During this period, I also met Uchiha Tomitake several times in his capacity as captain and received valuable advice and ninjutsu training. Among them was the Shadow Clone Jutsu—a technique Saitama had long yearned to learn.
Today was a rare moment of respite. After completing a recent mission chasing enemy spies, Saitama found himself with some free time and wasn't scheduled for any assignments outside the village.
Some of his missions were assigned by the Konoha Military Police Force, while others were led by Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Son, or Lin within the village. After all, as a recent graduate of the Ninja Academy, Saitama was not yet qualified to lead a mission on his own beyond the village walls.
It was May of the 45th Year of the Hidden Leaf—Year 45 of Konoha's founding—and tensions across the shinobi world were rising.
War had begun.
Yet as a member of the Uchiha clan, Saitama didn't immediately feel the pressure of the wartime atmosphere.
The Uchiha still held a unique status in Konoha. During times of open conflict, clan members could choose whether or not to join the front lines, unless explicitly ordered otherwise.
It wasn't yet the time when every ninja was conscripted.
After getting dressed and tidying himself up, Saitama stepped out of the house.
Lately, he had begun to grow rapidly. His appetite had increased, and he could feel the changes each day in his body. In just a few months, he had grown several centimeters and now stood about 1.4 meters tall.
"Morisama, do you know if the clan is sending troops to the front lines?" Saitama asked directly upon seeing Uchiha Mori.
At that time, Konoha was locked in a fierce struggle with Sunagakure. The atmosphere within the village was tense and grim.
Although the Uchiha had not fully committed to the war, a number of clan members had been sent to the front.
Uchiha Mori furrowed his brows and looked at Saitama with a complicated expression.
Over the past few months, he had witnessed the boy's efforts firsthand—his tireless training, his growing strength, and the emotionless look on his face during missions.
"You don't have to force yourself onto the battlefield," Mori finally said, voicing what he had held in his heart. He saw great potential in Saitama—potential rare even among the Uchiha.
"Now that you've joined the Police Force, you have fulfilled your duty to the clan. There's no need to push beyond that."
"But," Mori continued after a pause, "there's a small unit preparing to reinforce the front lines alongside Konoha's support division. I'll see to it that you're included."
As someone close to the Uchiha clan head and a shinobi of considerable strength, Mori had the authority to make such decisions.
"The Captain also said not to hold you back. You should do what you believe in."
Saitama gave a faint smile and looked up, meeting Mori's eyes with a calm yet determined gaze.
In the following days, Saitama trained and sparred with the other members of the Police Force, exchanging knowledge and refining his skills.
Though the youngest among them, he quickly earned a reputation. His strength rivaled and even surpassed many of his peers, and his dedication to completing every mission—no matter how grueling—had not gone unnoticed.
Three days passed in this way. Just when Saitama began to lose patience, Uchiha Mori arrived with news.
"Saitama, report to the clan's mobilization unit this afternoon. Lin will be leading this reinforcement squad."
"Understood," Saitama replied calmly, though excitement churned within him.
The battlefield—that was where he truly belonged. Ordinary missions could no longer satisfy the hunger that burned within him.
Though Saitama had only recently graduated, the number of lives he had taken likely exceeded that of many seasoned shinobi.
He craved growth and the thrill of danger. The battlefield would forge him into something greater.
After parting ways with Mori, Saitama returned home.
With Grandma Kaka growing older, and with Saitama often away for days on end, their shared meals had become rare.
Now that he had a little time before deployment, Uchiha Kaka greeted him with a warm, home-cooked meal.
"Granny, I'm home. Still busy?" he called out, seeing her hunched figure moving around the kitchen. Despite the years weighing on her back, her presence filled him with warmth.
"Yes, little Saitama. I made your favorite braised pork today. Be sure to eat more later. I simmered it all morning—just like you like it," she said with a soft smile, her wrinkles deepening.
"I will," Saitama said sincerely. After greeting her, he stepped out into the courtyard to reflect.
By now, he had completed more than a dozen missions. He could use his skills with precision and had grown more adept with both ninjutsu and kenjutsu.
The battlefield was a strategic choice. If he wanted to gain influence in Konoha, he first had to earn a reputation. Only then could he use his power to elevate the Uchiha and reshape their future.
He needed strength—and recognition. The battlefield would grant both.
After lunch, Saitama washed the dishes and asked Grandma Kaka to rest in the courtyard.
"Granny, this mission might take a while. Please take care of yourself while I'm gone. If anything happens, ask Shisui for help—I already spoke to him."
"Don't worry, little Saitama. Go with a calm heart. A man of Uchiha doesn't need to be held back by his old granny," she said with quiet strength. Her eyes, though cloudy with age, still held a faint light.
Saitama strapped on his gear, tied his blade to his waist, and stepped out.
Grandma Kaka watched silently from the yard as the boy she had raised walked away, shoulders squared with purpose.
Though still young, she felt in her heart that he bore the weight of something immense. Yet even so, his back remained upright and proud.
When Saitama arrived at the clan's assembly point, he saw the reinforcements gathered: around twenty Uchiha shinobi, neither many nor few.
He wasn't particularly well-known among the broader clan—only those who had trained with him in the Police Force recognized him.
As he entered, several gazes turned his way. But true to shinobi discipline, no one spoke. They simply waited for orders.
Most were in their teens or twenties, though a few veterans in their thirties were also present.
Saitama didn't recognize anyone, but he still offered a respectful nod. A few nodded back, though most maintained solemn expressions—focused on the grim task ahead.
After nearly half an hour, two more arrived. Then finally, Uchiha Lin appeared.
He bore the same distant, cold expression he was known for, keeping others at arm's length.
"Looks like everyone's here."
The group straightened as Lin stepped forward.
"Our mission is to escort Konoha's logistics unit and reinforce the front lines. You were all chosen because you represent the best of the Uchiha. If anyone wants to back out, speak now."
No one moved.
Lin nodded slightly. "Good. On the battlefield, uphold the Uchiha name. Do not shame the legacy of our ancestors."
With that, he looked to the sky, raised a hand, and launched himself toward Konoha's main gate.
One by one, the others followed—black shadows darting across rooftops.
Saitama joined them, leaping silently toward the war that awaited.
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