Konohagakure Training Ground.
The midday sun blazed high overhead, its scorching light piercing down mercilessly.
Naruto grit his teeth, clutching an orange rubber ball tightly in both hands, trying with all his might to infuse it with chakra.
The ball swelled and warped under the pressure—but refused to burst.
Sweat dripped down his temple. His arms throbbed with pain from hours of intense training.
"Damn it...!"
Naruto cursed under his breath and forcefully poured in more chakra.
But the rubber only trembled slightly—then settled back into place.
Panting hard, his arms trembling, Naruto could barely hold himself upright.
He had been at it for hours.
Compared to the water balloon from before, this rubber ball... was a nightmare!
He recalled the first step his father had taught him in last night's dream—stirring the chakra inside the water balloon until it burst. That part had come easily.
But now, the second step...
Compressing the chakra into a dense core strong enough to rupture a rubber ball—no matter what he tried, he couldn't pull it off.
"Hraaagh!"
Naruto let out a final cry of defiance, channeling the last of his chakra into the ball.
But with a soft pop, the rubber sphere remained perfectly intact—while Naruto, drained, fell back onto the ground with a heavy thud.
Breathing heavily with both hands on the grass, his head spun. His arms ached as though they didn't even belong to him anymore—numb and useless.
"Damn it… Why can't I get this right?"
Flat on the grass, Naruto stared up at the sky, frustration and disappointment knotting in his chest.
This Rasengan—an A-rank jutsu his father had spent three years creating—wasn't something to be learned overnight, huh?
He sighed deeply, ruffling his hair in agitation.
Then, a thought hit him.
"Wait a sec... I didn't even get the chance to ask Dad how to train for the second stage last night!"
Lying there, Naruto's mind spun.
If that's the case… maybe I should go ask Kakashi-sensei?
Eyes lighting up with sudden resolve, he sprang to his feet.
"That's right! Kakashi-sensei knows tons of stuff!"
Nodding to himself, he grew more convinced by the second.
Even if Kakashi didn't know the exact method, maybe he could still offer some advice.
With that, he brushed off his clothes, turned, and bolted toward the other end of the village—toward Kakashi's home.
He still remembered the contact information Kakashi had given them when Team 7 was first formed, in case of emergencies or last-minute missions.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the village...
Uchiha Sasuke walked alone along a quiet forest path.
The road beneath his feet grew rough and overgrown. The presence of people faded into silence.
His expression was dark, unreadable.
At last, he reached the edge of an abandoned district—the ruins of the Uchiha clan.
Crumbled rooftops, scorched walls... charred marks still lingered from a battle long past.
Once vibrant streets of his childhood were now cold, still, and lifeless.
Sasuke stepped forward slowly, every inch of ground steeped in old memories.
Before he realized it, he found himself standing before a half-collapsed estate.
Vines had overtaken the stone walls. The gate hung open, old and rusted.
But no amount of time could erase the structure's familiar shape.
This was his home. Once.
Sasuke stood there for a long while. Then, he drew a deep breath and pushed the gate open.
Creeeaak—
The hinges groaned loudly, startling a lone crow perched in the yard.
He stepped inside. The courtyard that had once been full of warmth now stood broken and bare. Only the wind whispered through.
And then, the memories came flooding back.
That night.
The blood-colored moonlight. The cold, merciless blade. The faces of his kin falling one by one—frozen in horror.
His father's stern gaze. His mother's gentle smile...
They had all been turned to corpses.
And the man atop the utility pole.
Sasuke's chest rose and fell violently. His fists clenched.
He fought to bury the storm inside—but rage burned in his dark eyes.
"That—was reality," he growled, voice hoarse. "That warm dream last night… was nothing but a lie."
Hmph.
With a hard shake of his head, he forced the remnants of hesitation out of his mind.
"I have to get stronger. I have to kill him."
With that, he strode into the backyard.
The overgrown lot still held a few wooden training dummies—rotted and crumbling with time.
Sasuke stood tall. His fingers flashed through hand seals.
Then he inhaled deeply.
"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"
A massive sphere of flame burst from his mouth, roaring through the yard.
In an instant, the old dummies went up in flames, reduced to blackened ash.
Smoke rose in thin, gray trails. Sasuke stood there, lit by the last flickers of fire.
His eyes were cold. His face unreadable.
Then—with a snarl—he drove his fist into a nearby tree.
"Family? Dreams? Nothing but illusions," he muttered, teeth gritted. "I'm not like that idiot Naruto—I won't be tricked by something like that."
Even as the words left his mouth, he launched into a fury of kicks and punches.
Whether tree, dummy, or empty air—it all became a target for his rage.
The air howled with his strikes.
His headband was soaked in sweat. His clothes smeared with dirt.
But he didn't stop.
He couldn't stop.
He pushed his body to its limit, trying to drown out the images replaying in his head.
His father's proud voice. His mother's kind smile. His brother's gentle hand on his shoulder...
Sasuke's breath came in heavy gasps. His jaw locked tight.
Only one thing burned in his eyes—pure, unwavering hatred.
Burning away the warmth of the dream.
High above, concealed atop a tall tree just hundreds of meters away—another figure watched in silence.
Kakashi.
From the shadows of the branches, his lone exposed eye stared quietly at the boy below.
A long sigh escaped him, tinged with sadness.
That dream last night… really got to him.
He hadn't planned to intervene.
He had simply followed Sasuke out of town on a hunch—concerned when he saw him heading toward the ruins alone.
But instead of doing anything reckless, Sasuke had gone home—and begun training.
Hard. Relentlessly.
At least for now, he wasn't in danger.
Not yet.
Still... pushing a twelve-year-old to the edge like this, day after day—obsessed with strength, consumed by vengeance...
It wasn't a good sign.
But as long as Sasuke remained in the village... as long as he still had his senses...
Maybe there's still time.
"Hang in there, Sasuke," Kakashi murmured.
He took one last look at the boy's sweat-drenched silhouette.
Then—with a flicker—disappeared into the trees.