Chapter 3: The Price of Strength

The Uchiha compound was always alive with activity. Whether it was the older shinobi sharpening their skills or the younger children sparring under the watchful eyes of their parents, there was always movement, always training. It was a cycle—one I was quickly learning to navigate.

From an early age, I had already set myself apart. Not intentionally. I knew better than to attract too much attention, but the problem was that I learned too quickly. Techniques that took others weeks to grasp, I understood in days. My chakra control was precise, my movements sharp, and my endurance far beyond my age.

I had already begun devising a strategy for the future. If I was going to survive in this world, I needed to be three steps ahead of everyone else.

The problem was, I had already drawn too many eyes.

Sasuke found me near the training grounds just outside the compound. His expression was more serious than usual, his small fists clenched at his sides.

"I want to spar," he said.

I didn't respond immediately. The request wasn't surprising. We had trained together a few times before, and though he had potential, he wasn't close to my level yet. But that wasn't the real reason he was here.

There was something else.

I stood up from where I had been meditating.

"You're upset."

His frown deepened. "Tch. No, I'm not."

I studied him for a moment before sighing.

"You're frustrated because of your brother."

Sasuke's jaw tightened. That was all the confirmation I needed.

"Itachi's a genius," I continued, "and no one will let you forget it. You're training every day, pushing yourself, and yet you're still in his shadow. Everyone compares you to him."

His gaze lowered. He didn't deny it.

I rolled my shoulders before taking a stance.

"Fine. I'll spar with you. But I'm not going to go easy on you."

Sasuke's head snapped up, eyes burning with determination. He immediately rushed forward, his small frame moving with surprising speed. I dodged his first strike, then the second, watching his form carefully.

His technique was improving. It wasn't just blind aggression—there was structure, discipline.

But it wasn't enough.

I sidestepped, caught his wrist, and swept his legs out from under him in one fluid motion. He hit the ground hard, gritting his teeth in frustration.

"Again," he growled, pushing himself up.

We repeated the process several times. He was relentless, throwing himself at me again and again, but I countered every move. His frustration grew with each failed attempt, his movements becoming sloppier. He wasn't thinking—he was reacting.

Finally, I caught his wrist again, twisting him around and pinning him against the ground.

"You're too emotional," I said. "That's why you're losing."

Sasuke glared up at me, breathing heavily.

"Shut up."

I released him, stepping back. "If you want to get stronger, stop trying to fight like Itachi. You're not him."

That got his attention. He hesitated, eyes searching mine. "Then how am I supposed to fight?"

"Like yourself," I said simply.

He stared at me for a long moment before looking away, frustration still evident on his face. But there was something else, too.

Understanding.

I turned to leave, but before I could, he muttered, "I'll surpass him."

I glanced back. "Then stop chasing his shadow. Become something else."

Sasuke didn't respond, but I knew he was thinking about it.

I walked away, my mind already moving to the next step in my plans.

That night, I sat on the roof of my home, staring at the moon. The compound was quiet, the usual tension still lingering in the air. The Uchiha were not at peace, no matter how much they pretended otherwise.

I heard a soft footstep behind me. I didn't turn.

"You're always up here," my mother said.

I sighed. "It's quiet."

She sat down beside me, her long hair shifting in the breeze. "You think too much for a child."

I gave a dry chuckle. "And you're surprised?"

Sayuri smiled softly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I worry about you, Raiden. You're strong—stronger than most, but you always seem… distant."

I looked at her, meeting her gaze. "You know what's happening in the clan. You hear Father talk about it. This peace won't last."

Her expression darkened slightly, but she didn't deny it.

I continued, "I have to be ready. If I don't get strong now, I won't survive what's coming."

She was silent for a long moment before exhaling slowly. "I wish you didn't have to think this way."

"So do I," I admitted.

She pulled me close, wrapping her arms around me. "No matter what happens, I love you, Raiden."

I didn't say it often, but I let myself relax in her embrace. "…I love you too, Mother."

That was the last time she ever held me like that.

The next few months passed in a blur. My training intensified. I focused on chakra control, endurance, and strategy. I knew I had power, but raw strength meant nothing if I didn't know how to use it effectively.

I also began experimenting with my abilities.

Late at night, away from prying eyes, I focused on my chakra, reaching deep into myself. The Uchiha blood in me burned with fire, but beneath it, something else stirred—something ancient, something rooted in the earth itself.

I pressed my hand against the ground. Slowly, carefully, I molded my chakra.

A small sprout emerged from the dirt.

Wood Release.

I exhaled slowly, staring at the tiny plant. It was weak, barely even a glimpse of what I knew it could be. But it was there. The blood of the Senju was real, and with enough training, I could awaken its full potential.

I clenched my fist.

I had power. I had knowledge.

Now, I just needed time.

But time was running out.

And I wasn't sure if I could change what was coming.