My Mangekyo Sharingan Can't Save My Hero Academia: 22 Sharingan And Rasengan

[U.A. HIGH SCHOOL GROUNDS – MORNING]

U.A. High sat on enough land to fit a small town.

That was the first thing anyone would notice—the sheer scale of it. Sprawling training fields, multiple building complexes, forests dense enough to get lost in, and enough open space that you could walk for ten minutes without seeing another soul.

Which was exactly what Sato Rina and her friend Fujimoto Akane were doing.

Two girls from the Business Course walked down one of the forest paths connecting the east and central blocks. The path wound between tall trees and stone fences, a quiet shortcut most students used to avoid the Hero Course traffic.

“Did you hear? Class 1-A’s getting their Sports Festival rehearsals moved to Ground Gamma,” one said, scrolling through her phone.

“Yeah. Apparently, someone broke another section of the training wall,” her friend replied. “Mr. Aizawa from their class looked like he was about to resign.”

The first girl snorted. “At this rate, U.A. should just start charging by damage.”

A soft gust brushed past them—so quick it barely disturbed the air.

They both stopped.

“…Did you feel that?”

The leaves rustled, a low whisper moving through the trees. Then silence.

Nothing but the faint echo of sand shifting somewhere deeper in the forest. “…Probably some hero student showing off,” one said with a snort. Eyes gleaming with envy.

They walked on, the moment forgotten.

___

[In The Trees]

The world rushed past in blurs of brown and green.

Wind cut against his face as Yuta moved, each step a burst of speed.

He landed on a branch, pushed off again, and shot higher through the canopy. Chakra flowed through his legs in perfect sync, muscles tightening and releasing at just the right rhythm.

Finally,

Sand shifted under his sandals as he came to a stop only when the forest gave way to a wide, sandy clearing.

He brushed grit off his sleeves and took a steady breath.

That last flicker had been clean. No stutter, no lag, no face-first dirt slide.

'Finally.'

The sun was high, throwing sharp light across the empty training field. It was quiet — the air was crisp, carrying that faint smell of concrete dust that only existed before U.A. students started blowing things up for “practice.”

He stretched lazily, cracked his neck, and rolled his shoulders.

“Alright, Training log. Day... I’ve stopped counting.”

The past week had blurred together—sleep, eat, train, and the one time he vaguely threatened the support faculty with hypothetical cutlery.

His progress however ... Was real.

Compared to eight days ago, his chakra reserves felt like a bottomless tank now.

His stamina barely dipped after hours of drills and his proficiency with chakra enhancement was through the roof.

'Now then ...'

He bent slightly and gathered chakra into his right fist. The air buzzed faintly around his hand as the energy condensed, then he punched down.

A loud crack split the clearing.

The sand tore apart under the impact, scattering in a rough circle.

Yuta exhaled, eyeing the shallow crater.

“…That’ll do.”

He tried again—this time with his leg. Chakra surged through his calf, and his heel came down hard.

The ground shook. A chunk of compacted sand flew several meters before landing with a dull thud. ‘Tsunade made this look easy,’ he thought with a knowing nod. ‘It truly is.’

All shamelessness aside, he had only been able to achieve his current level due to his quirk.

Perfect control meant precision on another level once he found the right degree.

However, compared to Tsunade and Sakura, his raw physical power and total chakra amount lagged far behind. The power of his strikes were far weaker leaving him with a trace of dissatisfaction.

'What the hell am I thinking? It hasn't even been two weeks.'

He shook his head. The Body Flicker had come easier than expected. Perfect control meant perfect muscle memory—once his body learned the sequence, it stuck. The exact timing, the exact flow, the exact compression and release of chakra through his legs. Now he could use it without thinking.

If not for his lack of a foundation, he would undoubtedly achieve far more.

'Still. with this, my winning rate during the Festival...' He looked at the crater. ' .. It should be high enough.' His eyes gleamed. 'Speaking of enough. Time to see what I'm actually working with.'

He took a deep breath, and decided to do the one thing he had been putting off.

He closed his eyes and focused inward.

Chakra flowed naturally through his pathways, cycling without effort. He pushed a controlled amount toward his eyes, following the instinct that had emerged the first time.

The sensation was immediate.

Heat bloomed behind his eyelids. then cooled into the slow, burning focus he’d only felt a handful of times before.

He opened his eyes, and the world sharpened.

Every detail snapped into focus with surgical clarity. The grains of sand at his feet. The texture of bark on distant trees. The faint movement of leaves in the breeze.

But it wasn't just vision.

It was insight.

He could see the flow of air currents, predict where debris would fall, track motion before it fully registered.

Three tomoe spiraled slowly in each eye, black against red.

'This is...'

He turned his head, taking it all in.

The clarity was overwhelming. Every movement, every shift in light—it all fed into his brain with perfect precision.

'No wonder the Uchiha were so feared.'

He flexed his hand, watching the way his muscles contracted, the way chakra flowed through his arm in visible threads of energy.

'I can see my own chakra network.'

Ash white lines traced through his body like veins, pulsing rhythmically with each breath. The flow was smooth, efficient—no blockages, no waste.

His quirk's perfect control translated directly into how chakra moved through him.

He held his hand up, watching the energy coil around his fingers.

'If I can see it this clearly...'

He reached into his bag and pulled out the third rubber ball—the last one he'd bought. The first two had already been destroyed during step two training.

This one was still intact.

He held it in his right palm and let the Sharingan focus on it.

'Alright. Let's finish this.'

He pooled chakra into his hand, compressing it tightly. With the Sharingan active, he could see exactly how the energy moved—the way it spiraled, the way it concentrated, the way it pressed against the rubber.

He adjusted the flow, tightening the rotation, increasing the density.

The ball trembled.

Bulged.

The Sharingan tracked every micro-movement. Every shift in pressure. Every point where the rubber resisted.

He compressed harder.

The ball stretched—

POP.

It exploded.

Rubber shreds scattered across the sand.

Yuta stared at his hand, then at the remains of the ball.

"…Step two. Done."

He pulled out the balloon he'd bought for step three—containment. This was the hard part. The part that required absolute precision.

He inflated it halfway, tied it off, and held it in his palm.

'Rotation plus power, compressed into a stable sphere.'

He pooled chakra again, this time splitting his focus. The Sharingan let him see both the internal flow and the external shape simultaneously.

Rotate. Compress. Contain.

The chakra spun in his palm, forming a rough sphere. The balloon trembled but didn't pop.

Good.

He adjusted the flow, tightening the outer shell while maintaining the internal rotation. The Sharingan tracked every fluctuation, every imbalance.

The sphere smoothed out.

Stabilized.

For five seconds, it held perfectly.

Then it wobbled.

The balloon shifted slightly, and the chakra destabilized. The sphere collapsed, and the balloon deflated with a sad little wheeze.

Yuta exhaled.

"Close."

He inflated another balloon and tried again.

This time, the sphere lasted eight seconds before collapsing.

Then twelve.

Then fifteen.

Each attempt, the Sharingan fed him more information. He could see where the chakra was uneven, where the rotation faltered, where the containment weakened.

He adjusted. Corrected. Refined.

On the sixth attempt, the sphere formed cleanly.

Smooth. Stable. Perfect.

The balloon didn't move.

Yuta held it there, watching the chakra spin in a contained vortex. Blue light pulsed faintly in his palm, humming with compressed energy.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Thirty.

It held.

He let it dissipate slowly, the chakra unraveling in controlled spirals.

The balloon stayed intact.

Yuta stared at his hand, then grinned.

"…Got it."

He formed the sphere again—faster this time, smoother. The chakra coalesced instantly, spinning in perfect balance.

A proper Rasengan.

Small, maybe—about the size of a tennis ball—but stable. Clean. Functional.

He held it up, watching the light reflect off the spinning energy.

'Naruto would be proud. Or jealous. Probably both.'

He was about to test it on one of the nearby rocks when—

“YUTA AKUTAMI from General Studies, Class 1-D—please report to the Development Studio immediately. Repeat, YUTA AKUTAMI, Class 1-D, report to the Development Studio immediately.”

Yuta blinked. “...Already?”

He turned towards the direction of the main campus. Then slung his bag over his shoulder.

“Guess Power Loader didn’t forget.”

He gave the cratered sand one last glance and muttered,

“Good thing this isn’t the tiled field.”