The morning mist clung to the Uchiha compound as Akari woke his son. No words just a kunai tossed onto Kayomi's futon.
Kayomi stared at the weapon before sitting up. The steel was cool against his palm, heavier than it should have been.
A sharp whistle from outside. "Up."
Kayomi exhaled, slipping the kunai into his pouch before stepping out.
The training ground stretched beyond the compound's main hall, shrouded in fading night shadows. His fire-wolves padded behind him, their molten eyes watching.
Akari stood in the center, arms crossed. "Draw your kunai."
Kayomi hesitated. "No wooden weapons today?"
"Wood doesn't kill." His father's voice was even, unreadable. "You've taken a life already. You need to learn what that means."
Kayomi swallowed hard but obeyed, pulling the kunai free. The metal glinting under the dim lights. It was just a weapon just steel but his fingers tensed around it like it might burn him.
His father's gaze sharpened. "Show me your stance."
Kayomi adjusted, feet firm, blade steady except it wasn't.
Akari moved. Fast.
Kayomi barely blocked before the impact rattled his arm. His father struck again, pressing the attack. Each blow was precise, relentless.
"You hesitate," Akari said between strikes. "Your grip is loose. Your mind is elsewhere."
Kayomi gritted his teeth. He adjusted, forced himself to push forward. He slashed at an opening, aiming for his father's shoulder
But the kunai stopped just short.
Akari's hand closed around his wrist. A sharp twist. And suddenly, the weapon was gone, flung into the dirt.
Kayomi cursed under his breath.
His father stepped back, expression unreadable. "You're still afraid of it."
Kayomi's jaw clenched. "I'm not afraid."
"You are." Akari crouched, picking up the kunai. He held it out. "Tell me what did the man you killed look like?"
The words hit harder than any strike. Kayomi stiffened.
"You remember, don't you?" His father's voice was quiet but firm. "The way his hands moved? The way his blood smelled?"
Kayomi's breath hitched.
As he did remember.
The shock in the man's eyes. The way his body jerked when the kunai sank in. The warmth of blood spilling over his fingers. His pulse pounded. His stomach twisted.
He hadn't used his claws that night. He had used this. A kunai.
His father stepped closer, lowering his voice. "It never leaves you. But it doesn't have to control you."
Kayomi exhaled shakily, fingers twitching. He looked up.
Akari held out the kunai again. "Pick it up."
Kayomi hesitated, fighting the tremble in his hand. His mind screamed at him to walk away, to leave the weapon buried in the dirt. But he knew that wasn't an option. With a deep breath, he reached out, gripping the handle tighter this time.
His father nodded. "Again."
Hours passed. As sweat clung to Kayomi's skin. His movements were sharper now. More certain. The kunai no longer trembled in his grasp. The hesitation was fading, but the weight of that first kill never would. It was something he would carry for the rest of his life.
Looking at his father, he expected him to say something about his form, about the fight, about how he still had a long way to go.
Instead, Akari turned toward the main hall, motioning for him to follow. "Walk with me."
Kayomi wiped the sweat from his forehead and trailed behind. The fire-wolves kept pace, silent shadows at his side.
They reached a stone bench beneath a lantern. Akari sat, rolling his shoulders. "How do you feel?"
Kayomi blinked. That was new. "Sore."
His father smirked. "Good." He leaned back slightly, staring at the sky. "And the kunai?"
Kayomi looked down at it. The steel no longer felt foreign in his grip. He could still remember the blood, the first life he had ever taken—but now, the weight was different.
He clenched his jaw. "It's a tool. Nothing more."
Akari nodded approvingly. "It's what you do with it that matters."
A breeze rolled through the courtyard, stirring the mist.
After a long pause, Akari spoke again. "The first time I killed someone, I was younger than you."
Kayomi glanced at him. Listening intently as his father rarely talked about his past.
"It was quick," Akari continued, voice even. "One strike to the throat and it was done. I still remember the way the blood sprayed against my skin. I remember wondering if it would ever wash off."
Kayomi stayed silent, the weight of his father's words sinking in.
His father turned to him. "It's easy to lose yourself in it. To let the kill define you. But we don't fight for the sake of fighting."
Kayomi's fingers curled around the kunai. "Then why do we fight?"
Akari held his gaze. "To protect what matters."
Kayomi's breath caught as memories of his mother and father flashed before him.
His father stood, stretching slightly. "Come. There's one more thing you need to learn today."
Kayomi frowned. "What now?"
Akari smirked. "Your Sharingan."
The flickering lanterns cast long shadows as they stopped in a secluded courtyard. Akari gestured for him to sit. Kayomi obeyed, his breath still heavy.
His father crouched across from him. "Close your eyes."
Kayomi hesitated but complied.
"Feel everything," Akari murmured. "The air. The heat of your wolves. The sound of your breath."
Kayomi focused. The world around him sharpened
each rustle of leaves, each distant footstep from the compound. The fire-wolves' heat at his back, their presence like an echo in his chest. Every detail stood out, clearer than before. His body tensed, almost vibrating with the sheer awareness of everything.
"Now," Akari whispered. "Open."
Kayomi's eyes snapped open and everything changed.
The flickering lantern slowed, each ember suspended in time. The air shimmered with movement. The subtlest shift of his father's fingers was suddenly crystal clear. Kayomi could see every strand of Akari's hair move, every breath he took.
His reflection in the lantern's glow revealed his eyes a single tomoe spun lazily in each crimson iris. But it wasn't just the eyes it was the feeling that came with it. Power. Clarity. A new kind of awareness.
Akari smirked. "Good. Now, let's see what those eyes can really do."