The streets were deserted, the rooftops pristine and spotless. Clearly, after the massacre, the Uchiha compound had been thoroughly cleaned by Root. Now, it had a fresh, almost new look.
If not for the bloodshed that once stained this place, it could easily be sold as a high-end residential district for a premium price.
Following Iruka's lead, you soon arrived at a standalone villa in the center of the compound—slightly taller than the neighboring houses. This was once the clan head's residence, and now, it was Sasuke's place of solitude.
Iruka stepped up to knock on the door, while you instinctively glanced around.
That one look was enough to expose the several ANBU operatives hidden nearby. Clearly, life after the massacre hadn't been all that different for Sasuke compared to Naruto.
He wasn't hated by the villagers, but he lived every day in a cage of hatred.
Iruka exchanged a few brief words with Sasuke. Sasuke responded with a tired shake of his head and began to close the door.
But just as he was about to shut it, his gaze turned toward you in the distance. He stared for a moment, a flicker of familiarity in his eyes, though he couldn't quite place you.
Of course, Sasuke didn't actually know who you were. It was just a faint sense of affinity stirred by shared Uchiha blood.
And just like that, the two of you were invited inside.
Iruka, who originally came to comfort Sasuke, now found himself at a loss for words and could only sit there in silence.
Sasuke sat quietly as well, occasionally stealing glances at you—this somewhat familiar stranger.
Your own identity had nothing to do with the Uchiha Clan. You'd simply come along with Iruka, out of admiration for the clan, hoping to visit the compound.
So the three of you sat awkwardly on three chairs, gathered around an empty coffee table.
Several times, Iruka opened his mouth, but the words got stuck in his throat and never came out.
After a while, perhaps unable to bear the silence, Sasuke stood up and headed to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of cold water, which he placed in front of you and Iruka.
To keep things from getting any more awkward, you took the initiative.
Lifting the glass, you took a gulp of water, then casually asked Sasuke if he'd ever done any housework.
Sasuke nodded and replied, "It used to be my mom and brother who—" but halfway through, his voice trailed off, and he buried his head between his knees.
Iruka quickly jumped in, explaining that you were a new ninja who'd recently joined Konoha and were eager to see the Uchiha Clan's Fire Style techniques. He asked Sasuke if he'd be willing to give a demonstration. Honestly, as Sasuke's teacher, Iruka was also curious to see how far Sasuke had progressed in his Fire Style training.
"Follow me."
Sasuke shot you a glance, as though something called interest had just begun to stir inside him. He pulled a scroll from beneath the coffee table, grabbed a pouch of ninja tools from the shelf and strapped it to his waist, then pushed open the door and jogged toward a quiet, secluded grove.
You and Iruka exchanged a glance, then followed.
The ANBU assigned to monitor Sasuke also moved quickly to keep pace.
As the three of you entered the forest, several ANBU operatives had already taken up positions, hidden among the tall treetops.
At Iruka's encouragement, Sasuke practiced his shuriken throws for a while, then moved to an open area by the lake, where he began forming hand seals to practice the Fire Style: Grear Fireball Jutsu.
You glanced around.
This place… would be perfect for eliminating witnesses. With your current strength, you could slaughter everyone here—including the hidden ANBU—in under thirty seconds and dump the bodies in the lake.
After that, before they could mark you with the Seal of the Tongue Eradication Curse, you could escape Konoha undetected, slipping through the barrier with the ANBU intel you'd gathered.
But if you did that, you'd become a target. The rest of your days would be spent being hunted by Konoha's ANBU, Root, Uchiha Itachi… and even missing-nin like Kakuzu, who worshipped money like a god.
In that case, trying to steadily acquire powerful jutsu would be far harder than having the Root organization backing you.
It had already been a month, but you never lost sight of your goal for this mission—to live long enough, and become strong enough.
For that grand plan, it was worth suppressing your impulses for now.
With that clarity in mind, you slowly withdrew the right hand resting on the hilt of your ninja blade and asked Sasuke if he wanted to see your Fire Style technique.
Something in your words sparked his competitive spirit.
"What kind of Fire Style could possibly be better than Uchiha ninjutsu?" he challenged.
You didn't respond. Instead, you casually tossed a shuriken into the air, focused your gaze on it mid-flight, and began weaving hand seals.
In the next moment, the metal shuriken burst into flames midair, and quickly melted into a glob of molten iron.
Then, you formed another seal.
The liquefied iron exploded in the sky, bursting into a massive firework over the lake. The molten metal scattered like countless droplets, hissing as they splashed into the lake and raised a light mist over the water's surface.
Sasuke, still fresh from the trauma of the massacre and not yet a full ninja, still had a fragile heart.
Seeing your godlike control over Fire Style, his gaze toward you changed completely in an instant.
...
Time passed quickly.
As the sun began to set, Iruka sat on a large stone by the lake, a deep worry etched into his expression. Watching you occasionally give Sasuke pointers on his ninjutsu, he couldn't tell if letting Sasuke learn more techniques early on was a good thing—or a bad one.
"We're leaving."
Under Sasuke's reluctant gaze, you pulled out your ANBU notebook, casually flipped through a few pages, made some marks with your pen, then stuffed it back into your pocket and called Iruka to head out.
...
That night, back in your room, you retrieved the ANBU notebook and, using the marks you'd made earlier, transcribed all of Sasuke's physical stats and known jutsu onto a fresh sheet of white paper.
You tucked the paper into a patch of tall grass used for exchanging intelligence.
Once back in your room, you enjoyed a long hot shower before opening the small metal box containing the Flame of the Infested. You resumed your Fire Style training, seeking further resonance with the strange flame...
...
Elsewhere, atop the Hokage Tower, Sarutobi Hiruzen stood on the rooftop, fuming with rage. Across from him, Danzō was calm and collected as he unfolded a piece of white paper filled with ninja data and began reading key points aloud.
His voice was soft, yet carried effortlessly with the wind, slipping uninvited into Hiruzen's ears.
"Sasuke… one of the last two surviving members of the Uchiha Clan… knows Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu… that's all. Hahaha!"
...
Hiruzen shot Danzō a stern glare and demanded to know where this "other Uchiha" had come from.
Danzō shook his head.
He simply said it was luck.
Truth be told, even he didn't know where you came from. He couldn't believe it—but you were here.
More importantly, despite having numerous chances to escape Konoha today, you hadn't shown the slightest intention of fleeing.
That thrilled Danzō to no end.
So much so that he outright ignored Hiruzen's angry ramblings—things like "He's still a child," "The meaning of life," "The Will of Fire," "Bonds," "The Clan of Love"...
Ridiculous nonsense. Danzō dismissed it all.
Instead, he left behind only one thing—his wildly arrogant laughter.
"Hiruzen, this time, I win."
"Absurd! I am the Hokage—!"
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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