Mastering the Elements - Chapter - 83

The news struck Konoha like a thunderclap.
A genin team, barely beginning to grasp their place in the shinobi world, had been sent on their second C-rank mission. They never made it back. The survivors’ report was chilling—Orochimaru himself had ambushed them. Their jōnin instructor had been slain with cold precision, two of the genin mercilessly cut down, and the third, Akuma Uchiha, dragged away.

Akuma had only recently awakened the Sharingan, and everyone in the village knew what Orochimaru craved. He had always been obsessed with bloodline abilities, and now he finally had his claws in one of the Uchiha.

The Hokage wasted no time. Hunter-nin squads fanned out across the Land of Fire, combing through forests, riversides, and mountain passes for any sign of the Snake Sannin. But the man was as elusive as smoke, slipping through every attempt to track him.


Harry Pottaru sat in his garden, a scroll half-finished before him. He was etching delicate sealing arrays into parchment when the sound of footsteps interrupted him. Looking up, he saw Fugaku Uchiha.

It was rare for the head of the Uchiha clan to visit him personally. Their families had drifted apart after Mikoto’s father, Takashi, passed away. The bond that once tied the clans together had thinned, and Mikoto and her son Itachi were not regarded as part of the Uchiha clan proper anymore. Still, Midori Uchiha—heiress to the clan—was like family to the Pottarus.

Harry rose, brushing the ink from his fingers.
“Fugaku-san,” he greeted calmly, though curiosity flickered in his eyes. “What brings the head of the Uchiha to my door?”

Fugaku did not waste time with pleasantries. His voice was low, but each word carried weight.
“I want you to make a seal for the Uchiha clan. A seal to protect the Sharingan.”

Harry raised a brow. “A seal?”

“Yes,” Fugaku continued. “Something like the Hyūga possess—their cursed seal that prevents their dōjutsu from being stolen. I want one that destroys the Sharingan when its bearer dies, or when someone attempts to take the eyes by force. It must be invisible, placed on the back of the head. No one should know it exists, save the clan.”


Harry leaned back, thinking. He understood the Uchiha’s plight. The Sharingan was coveted throughout the shinobi world. Many would risk their lives just for a chance to claim a pair of eyes. Orochimaru’s recent actions only confirmed how dangerous that obsession was.

“I can do it,” Harry said at last, his tone even. “But I will not add any control function. I refuse to create a seal that could enslave your clan the way the Hyūga’s seal does.”

Fugaku inclined his head. “That is acceptable.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “And what about the Mangekyō Sharingan?”

The Uchiha head stilled. It was a name seldom spoken, even among his clan. Slowly, a smile tugged at Fugaku’s lips.
“I am not surprised you know of it. Most of my clan are ignorant of the Mangekyō’s existence. But you are right. If the seal destroys the eyes at death, it would interfere with the transplant needed to create the Eternal Mangekyō.”

“Exactly,” Harry replied. “So what happens when someone with Mangekyō wants to swap eyes with their kin?”

Fugaku’s smile widened, thin and sharp. “That is why I ask for a key. A way to lock and unlock the seal. Only the clan head will hold it.”

Harry nodded. “That can be done.”


Harry set down the scroll he had been working on and looked Fugaku straight in the eye.
“If we do this, you must announce it publicly. The world needs to know that the Sharingan cannot be stolen. Otherwise, hunters will keep targeting your clan, hoping to rip the eyes from their corpses.”

Fugaku’s expression hardened. “You are right. If the rumor spreads, it will discourage many. Orochimaru may not stop, but at least others will think twice.”

Harry folded his arms. “Good. Then let’s make sure this seal protects your people, not chains them.”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken truths. Both men knew the Uchiha were under scrutiny, their relationship with the village fragile at best. But for now, they found common ground in one thing—keeping the clan safe from predators like Orochimaru.


As Fugaku left the Pottaru estate, Harry remained seated beneath the garden tree, staring at the scrolls before him. His sealing expertise could change the course of the Uchiha’s future. Yet he knew seals had a way of becoming tools in the wrong hands.

He whispered to himself, “If this keeps one more child from being dragged away like Akuma… then it’s worth it.”

And with that, Harry began sketching the first draft of the Uchiha Protection Seal.



The news spread quickly across Konoha and beyond—the Uchiha clan was about to implement a revolutionary seal that would prevent the theft of their dōjutsu. Word traveled through every tea house, training ground, and clan compound, stirring curiosity and unease in equal measure. For centuries, shinobi villages whispered of the Sharingan’s power, and now, suddenly, there would be a safeguard that made the eyes useless to outsiders.

Harry worked tirelessly for days inside the Pottaru estate, his study littered with parchment sheets covered in spiraling lines of ink, geometric diagrams, and chakra notations. Complex layers of sealing formulas sprawled across scrolls, each tested and discarded until he found the perfect arrangement—an unbreakable, invisible seal that activated at the moment of death or forced removal.

When at last he set down his brush and wiped the ink from his fingers, Harry exhaled deeply.

“It’s done,” he murmured to himself. “A seal that not even I could break once it is set.”

The next morning, Fugaku Uchiha himself arrived at the estate to escort Harry to the ceremony.

“You have my gratitude, Pottaru-san,” Fugaku said as they walked side by side. His voice was controlled, but Harry could sense the weight behind his words. “This will change the future of my clan. Today, we show the world that we are not prey to be hunted.”

The sealing ceremony was held in the grand courtyard of the Uchiha compound. Every Uchiha—men, women, and children alike—gathered in their formal attire, a sea of black and red marked with the clan’s fan crest. Whispers filled the air, not of fear, but of anticipation.

Harry stood before them with Fugaku, demonstrating the hand signs and chakra flow needed to activate the seal. His clear voice echoed through the courtyard:

“This seal is not a leash. It is not a brand. It will not bind your will. It exists for one purpose—to ensure that your eyes, your legacy, die with you if stolen. No one else will wield your power against your will.”

He performed the first seal on Fugaku himself, carefully inscribing invisible chakra lines at the back of his head. A faint blue shimmer appeared for only a heartbeat before vanishing into nothing. Fugaku touched the spot and nodded in satisfaction.

Then, one by one, the Uchiha came forward. Harry applied the seal with steady hands, and each time, Fugaku observed to ensure it was properly done. The clan members watched in awe, pride swelling in their hearts as they realized what this meant—their eyes would never again be trophies.

But not everyone in Konoha was pleased.

Among the watching crowd stood several Hyūga elders, their pale eyes unblinking as they whispered among themselves. When the last seal was set, Hyūga Hiashi himself approached Harry and Fugaku.

“This… development is most concerning,” Hiashi said, his tone sharp but polite. “For generations, the Hyūga have safeguarded the Byakugan through the Caged Bird Seal. It ensures loyalty and protects our secrets. Yet now, the Uchiha claim a seal that does the same, without… control.”

Fugaku’s dark eyes narrowed. “The Uchiha will not shackle our children. We will not brand our kin as slaves.”

Hiashi’s jaw tightened. “Without control, how will you ensure loyalty? What stops a traitor from taking the secrets of the Sharingan to your enemies?”

Harry stepped in before the argument escalated. “The seal I designed protects only against theft. It does not bind the soul. You ask for two things, Hiashi-dono—security and slavery. You already have the latter. If you wish for the former, I can create it. But do not mistake me, I will never design a seal that strips free will.”

Gasps spread among the crowd at Harry’s words. Some Hyūga elders looked furious, others thoughtful. Fugaku smirked faintly, clearly satisfied that the Pottaru had spoken so firmly.

“This seal will be known,” Harry continued, raising his voice for all to hear. “Let it be clear across the shinobi world—there is no point hunting the Uchiha for their eyes. The Sharingan dies with its wielder.”

The Uchiha erupted into cheers, pride and unity blazing across the courtyard. Children clung to their parents, elders stood taller, and even Fugaku’s stern face softened with rare emotion. For once, they felt untouchable.

But in the shadows, the Hyūga elders left in silence, their minds racing. The balance of power in Konoha had shifted, and they did not like it.



The training grounds were nearly empty that afternoon, except for the thuds of fists striking wood and the rhythmic sound of kicks slicing through air. Naruto had been wandering after finishing his evening drills, his mind restless. He had grown used to sparring with Itachi and under Dad's watchful eyes, so when he stumbled across someone training alone with such intensity, his curiosity flared.

A boy about his age was launching kick after kick into a wooden post. His stance was firm, his movements sharp, and his eyes burned with unwavering determination. But what really caught Naruto’s attention was the boy’s appearance—thick eyebrows, a green jumpsuit, and a bowl-cut hairstyle that looked… unique.

Naruto blinked. What’s with this guy’s style?

The boy didn’t stop. Even as sweat poured down his face, he moved with relentless energy. He counted each strike aloud, voice steady despite his exhaustion.

“One hundred and ninety-seven… one hundred and ninety-eight…!”

Naruto finally stepped closer. “Oi, you’re gonna break that leg before you’re done!”

The boy froze mid-kick, startled, and turned to face him. His wide eyes blinked twice before his face broke into a radiant smile.

“Ah! A fellow youthful academy student!” he declared, giving Naruto a thumbs-up. “I am Rock Lee! Who are you, my friend?”

Naruto tilted his head. “…Uzumaki Naruto.”

Lee’s smile grew even wider. “Son of the Forth Hokage! What perfect timing! This year is my last attempt to graduate from the Academy, and I must prove that hard work can rival genius!”

Naruto scratched his cheek. “Last attempt? You mean…”

Lee nodded firmly. “Yes. I cannot perform ninjutsu or genjutsu. My only path is taijutsu. Many mock me for it, but I will not give up!” His voice carried so much conviction that Naruto felt it deep in his chest.

For a moment, Naruto didn’t know what to say. He knew what it felt like to be mocked, underestimated, treated as less than everyone else. But this boy… instead of sulking, he burned like a fire.

A grin tugged at Naruto’s lips. “Heh. You sound kinda like me!”

Lee’s eyes widened, then sparkled. He suddenly grabbed Naruto’s hands in both of his, staring at him like he’d just found a kindred spirit.

“Yosh! Naruto-kun, your spirit burns as brightly as my own! Together, we will show the world that persistence and heart can surpass all limits!”

Naruto yelped, nearly falling over. “W-What’s with this guy?!” he muttered under his breath, but he couldn’t help laughing.

Lee released him and dropped into a stance, fists raised. “Naruto-kun, will you spar with me? I must test my strength against one who shares the flame of youth!”

Naruto’s grin widened. “Fine. Don’t go crying when I beat you, bushy-brows!”

They clashed in the clearing. Lee moved fast, faster than Naruto expected. His kicks came sharp and precise, forcing Naruto to block clumsily at first. Naruto countered with quick punches, his natural speed helping him, but Lee’s taijutsu training was on another level. Naruto was sent skidding back more than once, breathless but exhilarated.

“Whoa! You’re strong!” Naruto admitted but smiling fiercely.

Lee bowed respectfully even as sweat dripped down his face. “Thank you! But strength alone means nothing without youth and perseverance! You are strong as well, Naruto-kun!”

The two of them laughed, battered and sweating, yet feeling a strange bond forming. Naruto realized he liked this guy. Lee was weird, sure, but he was real—someone who understood what it meant to fight despite the odds.

As they rested against the wooden post, Lee clenched his fists, staring at the sky. “Even if I fail again this year, I will not stop. I will train harder, grow stronger, and prove my path!”

Naruto looked at him seriously for once. “You won’t fail, Lee. I believe in you. And… even if you don’t make it this time too, I’ll still be cheering for you. ’Cause people like us—we never give up.”

Lee’s throat tightened, and he gave another bright thumbs-up, eyes shining. “Naruto-kun… you are truly a splendid rival!”

Naruto blinked. “Rival?!”

“Yes!” Lee shouted, standing tall again. “From this day forth, you and I shall push each other beyond our limits!”

Naruto groaned, shaking his head. “Man, I don’t get this guy at all…” But deep down, he felt happy. For once, he’d found someone as stubborn and determined as himself.