Chapter 23: Sasuke – I Won’t Be Confused by Dreams

At the training ground in the Hidden Leaf Village, the midday sun blazed down from above, scorching the earth with its heat.cc

Naruto stood beneath the sunlight, drenched in sweat, gripping an orange rubber ball tightly in both hands. His teeth were clenched, and his arms trembled slightly from exhaustion.

He focused all his energy, channeling chakra into the ball.

The surface began to bulge and twist under the pressure, but no matter what he did, it refused to burst.

Sweat dripped down his forehead as his muscles burned from the strain of continuous high-intensity training.

"Ugh, come on!" he growled.

With a frustrated snarl, Naruto poured even more chakra into the ball, pushing himself beyond his limit.

The rubber quivered slightly—then returned to its normal shape as if mocking his effort.

His breathing grew labored. His arms hung heavy at his sides. Without realizing it, he had been at it for several hours.

The rubber ball was much harder than the water balloon he had started with.

He thought back to the dream he had last night—no, the training in that dream. His father had taught him the first step of the Rasengan. He remembered the feeling vividly. Stirring chakra inside a water balloon until it burst.

That part had been easy for him.

But this second stage—condensing the chakra, compressing it until it was dense enough to rupture the rubber—this was something else entirely.

"Come on… just a little more!"

With a shout of determination, Naruto forced the last of his chakra into the rubber ball.

But in the end, there was only a faint snap.

The rubber ball in his hand remained completely intact.

Naruto, however, collapsed to the ground from sheer exhaustion.

He braced himself on all fours, panting heavily. His vision blurred for a moment, and his arms felt so numb and sore that he could barely feel them anymore. It was as if they no longer belonged to him.

With a deep sigh, he let himself fall back onto the grass, staring up at the sky in a daze.

"Why... why is it still not working?"

He raised his right hand, trying to shake off the stiffness in his wrist. Frustration twisted on his face.

The Rasengan. An A-rank ninjutsu created by his father, a technique that had taken the Fourth Hokage three full years to develop. Was it really so difficult to learn?

Naruto sighed again and scratched his hair, annoyed at his own failure.

Then something clicked.

"Wait... I forgot to ask about the second step last night."

He frowned, staring up at the clouds as his mind began spinning again.

That dream had felt so real. Minato had clearly taught him the first step. But he never got the chance to ask about the next stage.

Naruto sat up slowly.

Maybe he couldn't go back into the dream right now, but…

"Why not ask Kakashi-sensei?"

That thought lit a spark in his eyes. With a sudden burst of energy, he jumped to his feet in one smooth motion.

"Yeah! Kakashi-sensei's a jonin. He's super experienced. He'll definitely know something!"

The more he thought about it, the more confident he felt.

Even if Kakashi-sensei couldn't perform the Rasengan himself, he might still be able to give some helpful advice.

Naruto grinned and slapped his cheeks.

"Alright. Let's do this!"

Naruto quickly dusted off his clothes, then took off running across the village, heading straight for Kakashi's residence.

He remembered that back when Team 7 was first formed, Kakashi-sensei had given them his address and contact information in case of emergencies or mission gatherings. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now it came in handy.

…

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the Hidden Leaf Village, Uchiha Sasuke walked alone along a quiet, winding path.

The farther he went, the more isolated the area became. The well-maintained streets of the village gave way to crumbling stone paths, and the number of people around him thinned until no one was left.

His face remained dark and unreadable as he walked.

Eventually, he reached the edge of a ruined district. His gaze slowly swept across a scene all too familiar, yet always painful to face—the ruins of the Uchiha clan's former home.

Scattered rubble and scorched walls stood as silent witnesses to a night of horror and loss. Burn marks still blackened the ground in places, remnants of fire and battle.

The streets where he once ran with laughter as a child had long since fallen silent.

Sasuke stepped forward slowly, one foot after the other, as memories surged and twisted inside him.

Before he realized it, he was standing in front of a particular house.

The front gate hung slightly ajar. Weeds climbed the wall, vines curling along the old stone, but even now, it still faintly showed traces of its past structure.

This was his home.

The house he had lived in with his father, his mother, and his brother.

Sasuke stood motionless for a long time, just staring. Then, finally, he took a deep breath and reached out.

He pushed open the gate.

The rusted hinge let out a long, creaking groan.

A crow resting in the yard was startled by the sound and flapped into the sky with a sharp caw, disappearing into the clouds above.

Sasuke stepped into the courtyard.

What was once a warm and peaceful home now lay silent and crumbling. The only sound that remained was the faint rustling of wind sweeping through the empty hall.

And then, without warning, the memories returned.

That night.

That terrible, blood-soaked night.

The crimson glow of the moon. The cold gleam of a blade. The images of his loved ones falling one by one—rushing past like a flickering slideshow he could never turn off.

His father's stern, commanding presence. His mother's soft, gentle smile.

All of it, frozen forever in the moment they became lifeless bodies.

And above it all… the shadowed figure standing on the telephone pole, gazing down with eyes colder than death.

Sasuke's chest rose and fell sharply. His fists had clenched on their own.

He forced himself to breathe, trying to push down the storm inside him, but the hatred had already begun to boil behind his eyes.

"This… is reality," he muttered, voice low and raspy. "That warmth in the dream last night… it was all a lie."

He shook his head hard, forcing the last trace of hesitation from his heart.

"I can't be fooled by dreams. I need power. I have to kill that man."

With those words echoing in his mind, he turned and marched toward the backyard.

The training ground behind the house was overgrown with weeds, but a few wooden training dummies still stood crooked and weathered with age. Their frames had begun to rot and bend, but to Sasuke, they were more than enough.

He came to a stop in the center of the yard, formed hand seals with practiced speed, and took in a deep breath.

"Fire Style… Great Fireball Technique!"

A massive sphere of fire surged from his mouth, roaring as it flew through the air.

The flames exploded against the training dummy with a violent crackle, engulfing the rotted wood in an instant and reducing it to ash.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed, the heat from the blast washing over his face.

He didn't flinch.

Within the roar of the heatwave, the broken wooden dummies were quickly swallowed by the flames, collapsing into a pile of blackened ash.

Thick smoke curled upward as the fire crackled, and Sasuke's face flickered in the glow—grim, tense, and shadowed with anger.

He struck the nearby tree trunk with a clenched fist and growled through gritted teeth, "Family? That dream was nothing but fake illusions. I won't fall for something like that. I'm not like that idiot Naruto."

The moment the words left his mouth, he began lashing out wildly.

Fists and feet flew through the air as he launched into a flurry of attacks, training his body with reckless intensity. Whether it was the wooden post or empty air, everything became a target for his frustration.

Wind howled around him as his strikes cut through the space. His forehead protector was soaked with sweat, and his clothes clung to him, dust-covered and torn at the edges.

But he didn't stop.

He couldn't stop.

Because every time he paused, fragments of that dream crept back in.

His mother's warm smile. His father's quiet pride. His brother's voice, so gentle and calm.

All of it tried to pull at the walls he had built around his heart.

Sasuke gritted his teeth harder. His breathing grew ragged. Veins bulged at his temples as he forced his body to keep moving, to push past the pain.

He wanted that warmth gone. Burned away by the fire of hatred that now filled his eyes.

At that moment, high in the branches of a tall tree several hundred meters away, a silent figure watched from above.

Kakashi stood on a thick branch, arms crossed, one eye focused through the slant of his forehead protector.

He watched Sasuke's wild training in silence.

A faint sigh escaped his lips.

That dream last night had affected Sasuke more than he expected.

Kakashi had noticed Sasuke walking out of the village alone and, sensing something off, quietly followed him to keep an eye on things. He hadn't expected Sasuke to return to the ruins of the Uchiha compound.

And now here he was, throwing himself into training with relentless fury.

Still, Kakashi was relieved to see that Sasuke hadn't done anything reckless. There was no danger in his behavior—only a desperate need to grow stronger.

For now, that was enough.

Even though pushing a child barely twelve or thirteen years old to this extent—forcing him to live day and night consumed by the desire for power and revenge—was far from ideal, Kakashi knew that, for now, there was still hope.

At least Sasuke was still here.

He hadn't run off.

He hadn't lost control.

He was still in the village, still training, still trying to move forward in his own way.

"I hope you can hold on, Sasuke," Kakashi whispered quietly.

He gazed once more at the boy's solitary figure—drenched in sweat, fists flying, heart burning—and then, without another word, his form flickered and vanished from the treetop.

…

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