The morning light spilled through the Academy windows, painting soft, warm rectangles across the wooden floors. Dust motes drifted lazily in the sunbeams, a serene contrast to the storm building inside Kayomi's chest. He sat at the back of the classroom, chin propped on one hand, eyes half-lidded as his mind buzzed with thoughts too heavy for a five-year-old. At least, that's what everyone around him would assume.
But Kayomi wasn't a typical child.
The System had been silent all morning. No quests, no alerts. Its absence left a strange weight in the air, like a shadow just out of reach. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much, but today, the quiet felt wrong. Unsettling.
"Today," Chunin Matsuo's voice broke through his thoughts, snapping the class to attention, "we're going on a little trip."
A ripple of excitement passed through the room. Daisuke nearly toppled out of his seat, Mebuki adjusted her glasses with precise care, and Shisui, ever-serene, blinked slowly but remained unshaken.
Kayomi's fingers twitched, his crimson eyes narrowing. Despite his teammates' energy, a sense of unease gnawed at him. The stillness in his mind felt like the calm before a storm.
"The forest outside Training Ground Three has rare medicinal herbs," Matsuo continued, unaware of the tension growing in the young boy. "Your mission is to collect them. Simple, yes?"
Simple. That was the word that made Kayomi's stomach twist.
He wasn't sure why, but something about the mission felt wrong. It wasn't the task itself, nor the safety of the Academy, nor even the presence of his friends. It was the forest. The woods outside the village were always full of danger, but this time, he couldn't shake the sense of being watched.
The forest smelled of damp earth and pine resin. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in broken patches, casting long shadows on the undergrowth. The group spread out in their assigned teams, each clutching a small basket for their haul. Kayomi's team was made up of Shisui, Daisuke, and Mebuki. Despite the mission's simplicity, there was an air of tension hanging around them, thick and suffocating.
Daisuke, ever the joker, held up a mushroom triumphantly. "Look! It's shaped like a butt!"
Mebuki sighed, flipping open her notebook with exacting care. "That's toxic. Touch it, and you'll lose feeling in your fingers for a week."
Shisui chuckled and poked at a beetle with a stick, but Kayomi wasn't laughing.
He scanned the trees, the low hum of his Six Eyes flaring softly. It wasn't the sharp warning of immediate danger it was different. There was a persistent, almost imperceptible wrongness in the air. A snapped twig here. A footprint too deep there. Everything felt slightly out of place.
He opened his mouth to speak when
Crack.
The sound of a branch snapping came from behind them.
Kayomi's muscles tensed, and his heart skipped a beat.
A man emerged from the shadows. His face was gaunt, his forehead protector scratched through, and his eyes flickered over the children, calculating. His posture was loose, relaxed a predator sizing up its prey.
Clan children. No Jonin. Easy targets.
Kayomi's breath hitched, and his body reacted before his mind could catch up.
The missing-nin moved.
Daisuke screamed as the man seized him by the collar, a kunai flashing to his throat. Mebuki stumbled back, dropping her notebook into the ferns. Shisui froze, his Sharingan flickering weakly, untested, unable to summon its power in time.
Kayomi's body moved instinctively. He didn't have time to think.
"Fire Style: Ember Palm!"
A weak technique, barely more than a flicker of heat, but it was enough to distract the missing-nin. He snarled, dropping Daisuke, but then the man lunged, his kunai aimed directly at Kayomi.
Think. Think. Think.
Kayomi dodged, but the kunai grazed his cheek, leaving a thin streak of red. Pain exploded through his body, and for a second, he faltered, dizzy.
Fire wolves? Too risky. The forest will burn.
Earth Style? Too slow.
The man's foot slammed into Kayomi's ribs.
Pain radiated outward, and Kayomi dropped to his knees, gasping for air. His vision blurred, but his mind remained clear. The System was silent, but something else the raw, primal instinct to protect took over.
The missing-nin didn't hesitate. He gripped his kunai with both hands, preparing to drive it down.
No.
Kayomi's eyes snapped open as something inside him snapped. He couldn't let it happen. Not like this.
A blur of pink slammed into the missing-nin's knee, Mebuki's herb basket crashing into his leg with a sharp thud. The man faltered for a split second, enough for Daisuke to hurl a rock at him, and Shisui, though hesitant, threw kunai.
But it wasn't enough.
The missing-nin backhanded Mebuki aside effortlessly, dodging every projectile with ease.
In that moment, something inside Kayomi cracked open.
He lunged.
Kunai in hand, his tiny fingers gripped the weapon with the desperation of someone who had nothing left to lose. His vision sharpened, the world moving in slow motion. His Sharingan activated without warning, a deep crimson light filling his eyes, reflecting the chaos around him.
He aimed for the throat.
The blade sank in with a sickening ease.
For a heartbeat, the world stopped.
The missing-nin stood, his eyes wide in disbelief, before his hand shot up to his throat, fingers grasping desperately at the hilt of the kunai lodged there. Blood bubbled from his lips, spilling over his chin. His body shuddered, then collapsed, falling to the ground with a wet thud.
Kayomi stood there, the weight of the kunai still heavy in his hand, the blood still fresh against his palm. He was frozen, staring at the body, his heart racing, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Ding.
[System Notification]
Congratulations. You have awakened the Sharingan.
Kayomi didn't feel victorious.
He didn't feel anything.
He stared at his blood-streaked hands, the warmth of it still clinging to his skin, the metallic scent of iron filling his lungs. His body shook, but it wasn't from fear. It was from the realization that he'd crossed a line one that no child should ever cross.
The next thing Kayomi knew, he was sitting in the Hokage's office, a strange weight pressing down on him. The room felt too large, too bright, like it was swallowing him whole. His skin felt tight, and everything smelled like copper.
Hiruzen Sarutobi sat before him, studying the children with an unreadable expression. He steepled his fingers, his gaze sweeping over them with careful deliberation.
"A tragic accident," Hiruzen said finally, his voice calm, measured. "But you protected your comrades. That is what matters."
A medal was placed in Kayomi's hands, too heavy, too warm. A pat on the head, a few congratulatory words. But the hollow feeling in his chest only grew.
Outside, the sunlight felt hollow.
Shisui walked beside him, their shoulders nearly brushing. "You saved us," he said softly, his voice a mix of awe and something deeper—something more complicated.
Kayomi glanced down at his hands, still clenched into fists. He didn't respond. What was there to say? He didn't feel like a hero. He didn't feel like anything.
[System Alert]
Six Eyes has leveled up [+1].
New trait: Sharingan has been obtained.
Kayomi didn't care about the notification. He didn't care about the System.
What had he become?
That night, the nightmare came, like it always did. The burning forests. Eyes watching from the darkness. Hands slick with blood, trembling and desperate to let go of the knife