My Mangekyo Sharingan Can't Save My Hero Academia: 20 Training Montage 2

Yuta stayed on the sand until the shaking in his arms stopped.

Sweat cooled on his skin. His breathing settled. The burning in his chest faded faster than it had any right to.

After a while, he pushed himself upright.

“…I feel better already,” he muttered.

His panting, shaking, burning lungs ... All gone.

It has only been twenty minutes, yet he felt he could put in another workout round. Not completely, but enough. The edge of exhaustion had dropped to something he could manage.

He checked the time on his phone.

7:54 PM.

Later than he expected.

The beach was darker now, waves rolling in quietly. The only light came from the street lamps along the boardwalk. He rubbed his neck and let out a slow breath.

'Well ... That's that for today it seems.'

He had planned to start Phase Three right away, but that idea died with the revelation of the time.

Regardless of Hero patrols, this was still a world with heroes and villains. Staying out doing exercises wouldn't do him any good this late.

Worse case scenario, he could encounter another villain.

His mind felt heavy too. Thinking clearly was already a stretch.

“…I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

He picked up his bag, brushed sand off the uniform he had laid aside, and started walking toward the exit.

His body still ached in places, but the pain was fading quicker than it should.

The Uzumaki Vitality truly was terrifying. No point thinking about it tonight.

The day had already been long enough.

For now, he would continue to push himself, doubling the training intensity tomorrow or perhaps pushing it a tad further if his body allowed it.

As for Quirk training and Chakra experimentation ... Those would have to wait school tomorrow.

Training outside would incur trouble if he was caught.

Might as well not risk it.

He reached the road, adjusted his strap, and headed home.

Training could wait until after school tomorrow.

Tonight was done.

__

[U.A GROUNDS – LATE AFTERNOON, DAY 4]

U.A. had everything—training fields, labs, support workshops, medical rooms the size of entire clinics. But for all its resources, it still didn’t have the one thing Yuta actually needed:

A “How to Ninja” manual.

He walked across an empty corner of the training field, holding a small notebook he’d bought yesterday. The pages were half-filled with scribbles—things he’d tried, things he thought might work, and a short list titled:

“Jutsu Attempts (Realistic???)”

He stopped under one of the shade trees and let out a breath.

The library was pointless.

Nothing relevant.

Nothing on chakra.

Nothing even adjacent.

Just general quirk theory, physiology, combat tactics, and some outdated books on ki and internal energy that sounded more like bad philosophy than anything useful.

He flipped open the notebook and scanned the list.

Clone – Maybe

Transformation – Probably not

Substitution – Doubtful

Elemental Jutsu – Needs work

Threads – promising

Rasengan? – future

He tapped the first line with his pen.

“Alright. Let’s see if yesterday was a fluke.”

He formed the Clone Technique seals and pushed chakra outward. The air rippled, then—

Poof.

The clone appeared… barely. The shape was warped, like the proportions were guessed wrong. It held for two seconds before its arm folded into its torso and the whole thing collapsed.

Yuta stared at the fading smoke.

“…Still trash.”

He crossed a line through the “Maybe.”

Clone → Not viable for now

He went to the next.

He formed the Transformation seals, pictured a random student he’d seen earlier, and released the chakra.

Poof.

The result looked human at a distance, but up close? Wrong height, wrong face, blurry edges. The moment he shifted his weight, the illusion flickered like an old TV losing signal.

He canceled it manually before it collapsed on its own.

He didn’t bother saying anything.

He simply drew a line through “Transformation.”

The list now looked worse than yesterday.

He sighed and closed the notebook for a moment.

It wasn’t lack of control.

It wasn’t even lack of proper effort.

It was the simple fact that he didn’t know the internal mechanics.

In simply terms, Yuta had no Ninja foundation of any sort.

Naruto was dead last during his time in the Ninja academy, and now Yuta could accurately understand why.

Because his current status, was even worse than Naruto's.

He knew the hand signs. He knew the visual result. But the steps in between—the chakra routing, the shaping method, the structural principles—he was guessing all of it. And guesswork wasn’t enough.

This wasn't something perfect chakra control and a few memory scenes from the anime could solve. To perform even the most basic Jutsu, chakra needed to flow in a set pattern.

Said pattern was probably not difficult to understand in reality. That however changed for him who had no proper understanding and no teacher or reference materials.

He opened the notebook again and flipped to the next item.

“Substitution.”

He didn’t expect much, but he performed the hand seals anyway and pushed chakra to his feet, just like he tried yesterday.

Nothing.

Not even a flicker.

He didn’t cross it out, but he drew a question mark next to it. “Probably impossible.”

The substitution Technique was probably the most confusing among all three. The previous day, Yuta had tried many different ways to achieve it, and going so far as to keep an actual log nearby.

Clearly nothing worked.

He took a step back and rested the notebook against his thigh.

'So the library was useless. The hand signs alone aren’t enough. And even with control, I can’t recreate something I never learned properly.'

This matched what he already suspected, but seeing it confirmed over four days of attempts was irritating.

He closed the notebook and exhaled through his nose.

There was no point forcing techniques he didn’t have the foundation for. Even Naruto only got anywhere because he had most of the academy’s worth of basics drilled into him before Jiraiya ever showed up. Yuta didn’t have that. He had memories of an anime and a handful of hand signs.

He glanced at the final items on the page.

Elemental Jutsu – Not happening.

Chakra enhancement - In progress

Threads – In progress

Rasengan – In progress

Those, at least, were things he could test without theory.

He stepped away from the tree, held out his hand, and pushed chakra to his fingertips. A thin strand formed, shaky at first, then steadier. It stretched a few inches before bending like a weak wire.

Better than yesterday.

He retracted it and tried again. A cleaner thread. More control. No shaking.

Now that was something he could actually build on.

He flipped the notebook open and marked a small check next to “Threads.”

Yuta closed the notebook and slipped it into his pocket.

Time was ticking. The Sports Festival wasn’t far off anymore, and he still didn’t have anything close to a real jutsu. The basic trio failed. Transformation was barely a party trick. Substitution might as well not exist. Elemental techniques were out of reach. The only things showing real progress were enhancement and threads—and threads weren’t enough to build an entire strategy around.

He flexed his hand once, feeling the internal stir of chakra. His control was sharp. His enhancement was reliable. Mobility, strength output, reflex boosts—those were consistent. On paper, he had advantages. In practice?

Yuta always felt that they weren’t going enough.

He let his back rest against the tree and watched dust roll across the empty field.

If he couldn’t rely on jutsu, then he had one path left:

His quirk.

That, at least, worked cleanly.

No hidden theory. No ninja mechanics he couldn’t access.

But for that, he needed equipment.

The same pebble-and-backpack principle applied: light objects were sustainable. Heavy objects were burst use. And the more precise the item, the better he could maneuver it.

Which meant his current inventory—one school bag and whatever fit inside it—was completely useless.

'I need proper gear.'

Not weapons, exactly. U.A. would never approve Kunai and Shuriken being used. Ironic when Aoyama was literally blasting Mina with a laser that could destroy steel during said festival.

But tools he could mark, tools with form, tools that could support movement or utility or misdirection. Something durable. Something he could control mid-combat without ripping his chakra reserves in half.

There was only one place to get that.

He looked across the campus, toward the row of buildings where the Support Department was stationed.

Getting materials wasn’t complicated. Asking for them was.

If he remembered right, he would need to fill in paperwork to use any support gear during the sports festival. Something Iida would learn after being tricked by a certain pink haired gremlin.

If he wanted gear, he would have to fill out the paperwork.

Still… if he didn’t ask, he’d

have nothing.

The better the materials, the better his chances of winning.

He exhaled through his nose.

“That’s tomorrow’s problem.”

He picked up his notebook again, tucked it into his bag, and stepped off the field.