The last embers of Kayomi's fireball dissipated into the dawn mist as he lowered his hands, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm despite the magnitude of the jutsu he'd just performed. At four years old, his chakra coils hummed with a density that would make most genin weep. The training field once a pristine stretch of grass now resembled a warzone of blackened earth and shattered stone, a testament to two years of relentless conditioning since his chakra awakening.
His summons, twin fire-wolves with pelts of living flame, circled him in lazy arcs, their molten eyes tracking imaginary prey. They'd grown since their first manifestation now the size of mastiffs rather than housecats though their personalities remained frustratingly feline. One yawned, exposing fangs that dripped embers onto the scorched soil.
Pathetic, Kayomi thought, though the corner of his mouth twitched. But they'll do.
A familiar scent cut through the smoke dog fur and citrus soap. His mother leaned against the fence post, arms crossed, her Inuzuka markings stark against skin tanned from years of field missions. "If you singe another set of robes," she said dryly, "you're doing the laundry in the river. With soap. Like a civilian."
Kayomi opened his mouth to retort—then froze. The realization struck like a kunai between the eyes.
Today's the day.
The Academy. The beginning of his official shinobi career, though in truth he'd been preparing for this moment since his first coherent thought in this world. His fingers found the hem of his new Uchiha robes, black fabric embroidered with subtle flame patterns along the sleeves. A gift from his father upon mastering the Great Fireball. The cloth was thicker than standard issue, woven with chakra-conductive threads that wouldn't incinerate the first time he sneezed wrong.
His mother's callused hand ruffled his hair, deliberately mussing the already wild spikes. "Stop overthinking. You'll do fine." The unspoken you're an Uchiha hung between them, weighted with generations of expectation.
Konoha's Academy loomed like a stone sentinel, its walls scarred by decades of wayward shuriken and explosive tags gone astray. Children clustered in nervous packs, their chatter rising in pitch as Kayomi ascended the steps. His Six Eyes activated without conscious thought—not the full analytical brutality they were capable of, but enough to take inventory.
There. A dark-haired boy with sharp features leaned against the wall, observing the crowd with detached amusement. Shisui. Future prodigy, future corpse. The knowledge sat heavy in Kayomi's gut.
There. A pink-haired girl giggling with friends. Sakura's mother, perhaps?
There. A loudmouth with spiky blond hair holding court. Not Naruto, but the resemblance is uncanny.
A scarred chunin instructor clapped his hands, silencing the murmurs. "Line up, maggots. First test: kunai accuracy."
The trials passed in a blur.
Kayomi's throws struck dead center. His chakra control exercises—meant to gauge basic leaf-sticking proficiency—became a display of precision as he arranged five leaves into a rotating star pattern above his palm. The instructor's eyebrow twitched when Kayomi casually reformed the exercise's water ball into a perfect wolf's head that howled silently before dissipating.
Then came the sparring matches.
"Uchiha versus Aburame!"
His opponent was a wiry boy whose sleeves buzzed ominously. The moment the match began, a dark cloud of kikaichu surged forward
only to recoil as Kayomi's palm met the earth. A wall of fire erupted between them, heat forcing the insects back. Before the Aburame could react, Kayomi was upon him, a training kunai resting against his throat.
"Yield."
The boy's glasses fogged from the residual heat as he nodded stiffly.
Match after match ended the same way. A Hyuuga lasted three seconds before Kayomi feinted left and swept his legs. A Nara barely had time to form a shadow before finding herself dangling upside-down from a tree branch.
By midday, the whispers had grown teeth.
"He's not even breathing hard—"
"That's the Uchiha for you—"
"Did you see his eyes*?"*
Only Shisui watched with genuine interest rather than fear, his gaze calculating.
As the sun dipped below the academy's roof, the instructor—a grizzled veteran missing two fingers on his left hand—cornered Kayomi near the weapon racks. "You fight like someone who's already seen battle," he said quietly. "That's dangerous for a child."
Kayomi met his gaze evenly. The man's chakra pulsed with the telltale flicker of someone who'd survived one too many ambushes. "War doesn't care about age," he said, echoing words he'd heard his father mutter after too much sake.
The instructor exhaled through his nose. "No. It doesn't." He straightened. "Report to the advanced class tomorrow. And Uchiha?" A calloused hand gripped his shoulder. "Try not to break your classmates. We need every shinobi we can get."
The walk home was quiet. His wolves materialized at his sides, their warmth warding off the evening chill. Somewhere beyond Konoha's walls, the Third War raged on. Somewhere in the future, a masked man would orchestrate the death of everything Kayomi loved.
But tonight? Tonight he was just a child returning from his first day at school, the scent of charred wood clinging to his robes, his mother's laughter ringing from the kitchen as she recounted his exploits to his father.
For now, that was enough.
[System Notification]
Academy Assimilation: 97% Success
New Objective: Survive Peacetime Without Boredom-Induced Arson
Warning: Classmates May Develop Hero Worship. Please Discourage.
[System Interface]
Age: 4 years
Chakra Capacity: Above Average
Traits:
Beast Magic [Lvl 4] (Can summon two fire wolves the size of mastiffs, flame manipulation enhanced)
Six Eyes [Lvl 3] (Full chakra perception and analysis, can observe chakra manipulation in real-time)
Fire Dragon Slayer Magic [Lvl 4] (Flame bursts last 5 seconds, enhanced power and precision)
Nature Affinity: Fire (Primary), Earth (Secondary)
Chakra Color: Deep Ember Red