Dawn broke over the Uchiha compound with golden light that cast long shadows between the rooftops. Smoke from early morning fires drifted lazily into the air as Sasuke stood in the courtyard, facing his father.
Fugaku Uchiha's gaze was sharp, arms crossed over his chest, watching his son in silence. The clan head wasn't known for affection. But this morning, he had agreed to show Sasuke his first true Uchiha jutsu.
"Fire Style," Fugaku began, "is more than just a release. It is the symbol of our bloodline. Our pride. When you breathe flame… you carry the fire of every ancestor before you."
Sasuke remained still, calm, but inside—his heart beat a little faster.
This was his first real chance.
---
Fugaku inhaled sharply, then exhaled with precision.
"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"
A swirling ball of intense fire exploded from his mouth, roaring into the open sky. The heat warped the air, and Sasuke could feel it sting against his skin even from several meters away.
He watched the jutsu, not in awe—but in detail. Every muscle Fugaku used. The chakra path. The hand seals. The breath control.
Corp: Activated.
The jutsu's structure entered his mind like a blueprint, but Sasuke didn't stop there. He immediately began evolving it. While the original technique was a large fireball meant for intimidation or damage, Sasuke imagined a tighter, faster, spiraling flame compressed like a spear.
He called it: Katon: Rekka Senko – Fire Style: Scorching Flash Lance.
Smaller, faster, hotter. Deadlier.
---
Fugaku turned to him. "Now, your turn."
Sasuke mimicked the hand signs with perfect accuracy. He didn't need to perform the basic form—he already understood it. But he couldn't reveal his full evolution yet. Not now.
"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"
His fireball wasn't as large—but it was cleaner, more focused. The flames swirled tighter than any beginner's ever should.
Fugaku's eyes widened ever so slightly.
"Not bad. You've been practicing?"
Sasuke nodded softly. "A little."
"Hn." His father turned away, but not before Sasuke caught the rare glimmer of pride in his eyes.
---
Later that day, Sasuke wandered the training grounds alone, replaying the fire technique in his mind. Each time he practiced it internally, he layered chakra faster, shaped the flame tighter, sharpened the spiral core.
But as he rested under a tree, a gust of wind brought something with it—a scent.
Smoke.
Not chakra smoke.
Burning wood.
He stood up quickly, eyes scanning the horizon. He saw it—rising over the distant rooftops, from a small civilian district near the edge of the village.
Without a second thought, he ran.
---
When Sasuke arrived, he found a two-story wooden house engulfed in flames. Villagers were scrambling for buckets of water, but panic made everything inefficient. He heard a woman crying out.
"My daughter! She's still inside!"
No shinobi in sight.
Sasuke didn't hesitate.
He pushed through the crowd and bolted through the burning doorway.
"Sasuke!" someone shouted, but the roaring inferno drowned out the voice.
Inside, the heat was suffocating. Wood cracked, beams collapsed, and smoke filled his lungs.
But his eyes—his Sharingan—pierced the chaos.
He saw the chakra of a small body in the corner room.
A girl, maybe three or four, coughing and barely conscious under a fallen beam.
Sasuke channeled chakra into his legs and dashed forward, ducking past fire and debris. He grabbed the beam—too heavy.
He grit his teeth.
Corp: Activated.
He triggered the hybrid strength he'd copied from Kiba earlier. The wild, raw power of the Inuzuka fused with his Uchiha control, and with a shout, he heaved the beam aside and scooped the girl into his arms.
The ceiling above groaned.
He turned—and sprinted out as the entire room collapsed behind him.
He burst into the open, coughing violently, holding the girl close. Villagers stared in shock.
The mother rushed over, tears streaming down her face as she embraced her daughter.
Sasuke collapsed to his knees, chest burning, lungs screaming for clean air.
But inside his soul, something pulsed.
A memory—not of fire, but of purpose.
---
That night, Sasuke lay on his futon, staring at the ceiling.
His Sharingan had activated instinctively during the rescue—this time showing two tomoe in each eye.
The second tomoe had awakened through will, not pain. Through the fire of protecting, not losing.
And it felt... right.
He reached for the mirror nearby and stared at his reflection.
Crimson eyes spun slowly—twice-marked, powerful.
But it wasn't the power that made him smile softly.
It was the fact that today, he saved someone.
Not for glory. Not for the clan. Not for vengeance.
Just because he could.
Because he chose to.
---
Downstairs, Mikoto and Fugaku argued again.
"You let him fight fire alone?!"
"He's an Uchiha. We face danger. He didn't hesitate. That's something to be proud of."
"He's still a child."
"No… He's already something more."
Sasuke heard it all.
He closed his eyes.
Memories burn like flame. But some fires purify.
I'll be the one who saves, even if the world expects me to destroy.
His hand curled into a fist.
And in the darkness, the red eyes of the Uchiha gleamed—no longer burdened by hate, but lit with resolve.