Chapter 2: Shadows of the Uchiha

The early years of my life were filled with observation. I listened. I learned. And most importantly, I hid.

By the time I was four, I had already mastered walking, running, and basic motor skills. But more than that, I had a deeper awareness of myself—of my chakra, my body, and the lineage that flowed through my veins.

The Uchiha were prideful. Our compound was a fortress of tradition, a place where strength was respected above all else. Even as a child, I could see how our people carried themselves—backs straight, eyes sharp, a quiet arrogance in their movements. We were a clan of warriors, but also of ambition. And that ambition would be our downfall.

I spent most of my time with my parents. My mother, Sayuri, was soft-spoken but fierce, always watching me with careful eyes. My father, Taizen, was a more traditional Uchiha—stern, disciplined, but not unkind. He saw something in me.

"You'll be strong, Raiden," he said one night as he watched me practice my stances.

"Stronger than most of our clan."

He wasn't wrong.

Even as a child, I felt the difference between myself and others. My chakra was too vast, too refined. I could run longer, recover faster, and endure more than a normal four-year-old should. The Sage Body was already working within me, accelerating my natural growth.

But I kept my abilities hidden.

For now.

At four years old, I was finally allowed to explore the Uchiha compound on my own. It was a sprawling district, almost a village within a village, walled off from the rest of Konoha. I saw other children training under their parents, kunai and wooden swords clashing in the distance.

That's when I met him.

Sasuke Uchiha.

He was about my age, maybe a few months younger, but even then, there was something different about him. He had the same black hair and onyx eyes as most of our clan, but his presence carried weight. Maybe it was because he was Fugaku Uchiha's son, the younger brother of the prodigy, Itachi.

He was practicing with a wooden kunai, trying to hit a target but missing slightly each time. His small face twisted in frustration.

"Your grip is wrong," I said before I could stop myself.

Sasuke turned sharply, eyes narrowing at me.

"What?"

I walked up to him, my body moving instinctively. "Your stance. You're gripping the kunai too tightly. It throws off your control."

He stared at me for a moment, clearly debating whether to listen or not. Then, reluctantly, he adjusted his grip and threw the kunai again.

This time, it hit the center of the target.

Sasuke's eyes widened slightly, then his lips curled into a small smirk. "Not bad."

It was the start of something. A rivalry, perhaps. Or maybe something more.

It didn't take long for me to become known among the children of the compound.

I wasn't as loud as some, nor as arrogant, but I was different. My movements were sharper, my endurance higher, my ability to grasp techniques quicker. Even when I held back, it was clear that I wasn't normal.

"Raiden, let's spar!" one boy called out one day. I turned to see Ryuu, a slightly older kid, holding a wooden practice sword.

I glanced at my father, who stood nearby, arms crossed. He gave me a slight nod.

I stepped forward.

The fight lasted less than a minute.

Ryuu swung first, predictable and wild. I sidestepped, letting the wooden sword pass harmlessly by, then struck back with a simple sweep. He stumbled, and before he could recover, I had already pressed my weapon against his chest.

The watching children went silent.

I stepped back, letting Ryuu regain his footing. He looked at me, stunned, then scowled. "You just got lucky!"

I didn't reply. There was no need.

After that, people started looking at me differently.

Some with admiration. Some with jealousy. But all with recognition.

I was no longer just another child in the Uchiha clan. I was someone to watch.

And that was both a blessing and a curse.

One night, as I returned home after training, I sensed something.

A presence.

I stopped in my tracks, my senses sharpening. It wasn't killing intent, but it was… observing.

I turned my head slightly. "You don't have to hide," I said quietly.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, a figure stepped out from behind a tree.

Itachi Uchiha.

Even at a young age, he was legendary. The genius of our clan. The prodigy. The one who was destined for greatness.

He looked at me with calculating eyes.

"You're different from the others."

I met his gaze evenly. "So are you."

A small smile tugged at his lips. "True."

For a moment, we stood in silence. Then, he spoke again.

"You should be careful, Raiden.

Being too strong can make people uneasy."

I understood what he meant. If I stood out too much, I would attract attention—both good and bad. And in a clan as politically fragile as ours, that could be dangerous.

"I'll keep that in mind," I said.

Itachi studied me for another moment before turning. "Don't lose yourself in power."

Then, just as quietly as he appeared, he was gone.

As I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, I thought about Itachi's words.

He was warning me. But it wasn't just a warning about strength—it was a warning about the future. He knew something.

And I knew, deep down, that the peace we had now wouldn't last.

I had a few more years before the massacre. Before everything changed.

I had to be ready.

And so, I trained. Quietly. Secretly. I honed my chakra control, learned how to extend my endurance, practiced techniques in the dead of night where no one could see.

I wasn't just going to survive.

I was going to make a difference.

One way or another.