Naruto: Threads of Crimson

The morning air was crisp, yet it did little to cool the heated swirl of thoughts in my head. I jogged at a steady pace through the Uchiha compound, my usual routine, but today, I wasn't just running to wake my body up—I was trying to settle my mind.

Reika's words from the previous night still echoed in my head.

Her words had struck a chord, one I didn't know I needed to hear. That day, I'd been wrestling with the memory of my first kill. That moment when I saw the fear in my opponent's eyes, when I realized I relished the power I held over them, had left me questioning everything about myself.

But Reika had been so matter-of-fact, almost nonchalant, as she explained that every shinobi had their own darkness to contend with. She hadn't judged me for mine, and that had brought me a measure of peace I hadn't thought possible.

Now, as I ran past familiar streets and neighbors starting their morning chores, I felt… okay with that part of myself. I wasn't proud of it, necessarily, but I wasn't going to deny it either. It was a part of me, just like my fire style or my sense of humor. But even with that clarity, another question loomed: 'Was being a shinobi really my path?'

I'd trained my whole life for this. My clan had high expectations of me, expectations I wasn't sure I could meet now. 'What would they say if I decided the shinobi life wasn't for me? Would they be disappointed? Angry? Worse, would they pity me?'

I shook my head, pushing those thoughts aside as best I could. But they lingered, I imagined my parents' faces if I told them I wanted to do something else. My father, a proud shinobi who had served the clan with distinction, probably wouldn't understand. My mother, ever supportive, might smile and say it was okay, but I'd see the sadness behind her eyes.

And then there was the clan itself. Being a shinobi wasn't just a career—it was a duty, a legacy. What would it mean to walk away from that? Could I face them if I did?

"Good morning!" I called out to everyone I saw, waving and smiling slightly at everyone, even as sweat trickled down my temple. They waved back, some chuckling at my enthusiasm. I'd been doing this run for a few months now, and the routine of greeting the clan was almost as much a part of me as breathing.

As i rounded the corner, I saw the clan gates come into sight and I knew I had reached the outskirts of the clan. Arriving here, came one of my favorite stops on the route: Maki's dango shop. The shutters were creaking open, and the scent of fresh dango wafted into the morning air. It was comforting, familiar, like a hug from the universe.

I saw Maki standing out front, hands on her hips, surveying the quiet street. Her sharp eyes landed on me, and her face broke into a warm smile.

"Morning, Shiro!" she called out.

"Good morning, Ms. Maki!" I replied, slowing to a jog as I approached her.

"You're out early again," she said, her smile widening. "Come on in, grab some dango. Start your day right."

I hesitated, glancing down at my sweat-soaked shirt and the streaks of dirt clinging to my arms from earlier. "I'm all gross, though…"

She waved me off like it was nothing. "Bah! You're like family at this point, Shiro. Don't let a little sweat stop you."

The warmth in her gravely voice was impossible to resist. Smiling sheepishly, I followed her inside. The shop was small but cozy, filled with the sweet, earthy smell of fresh dango. The sight of the carefully arranged skewers, all glistening with syrup, made my stomach rumble.

I sat down at one of the small wooden tables near the window while Maki busied herself behind the counter. Her hands moved quickly, expertly skewering fresh dango and brushing them with glaze.

"So," she started casually, glancing over at me. "How are you doing? And don't just say 'fine.' I know you better than that."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, I'm good. Mostly."

Her brow arched. "Mostly?"

I sighed, running a hand through my damp hair. "I don't know. I guess… I'm wavering."

"Wavering?" She stopped what she was doing and turned to face me fully, resting her hands on the counter. Her gaze was steady, patient, like she had all the time in the world for me.

"I don't know if I'm in the right field," I admitted, my voice quieter now. "Being a shinobi, I mean. My first mission outside the village—it wasn't what I expected."

She came around the counter and sat down across from me, her presence grounding. "What happened?"

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table. The memory of that mission came flooding back, unbidden and sharp. "I killed someone," I said finally, barely above a whisper. "And I thought I'd feel guilt, or fear, or… something. But I didn't. I liked it." I swallowed hard, unable to meet her eyes. "Seeing the fear in their eyes, watching the life drain out of them… it felt good. And that terrifies me."

The silence that followed was heavy, but not uncomfortable. When I finally dared to glance at her, she didn't look horrified or disgusted. Instead, her face was calm, understanding.

"That's more common than you think," she said softly. "You're not a monster for feeling that way, Shiro."

I frowned, the knot in my chest tightening. "I'm not?"

She shook her head. "No. Your first mission is always the hardest. It changes you, tests you in ways you can't prepare for. But feeling a rush from it? That doesn't mean you're broken. It means you're human."

I leaned back in my chair, her words sinking in. "My opponent… they were trying to kill me. I know I did what I had to, but… what if this feeling doesn't go away? What if I like it too much?"

Maki sighed, her expression softening even more. "My husband felt the same way after his first mission. But for him, it wasn't a rush he liked—it was the guilt that overwhelmed him. He fell into a depression, so deep he couldn't climb out. Eventually, he left the field entirely and started working in a restaurant here in the compound."

I blinked, surprised. I'd known her husband had left the shinobi life, but I'd never known why.

"Not everyone is cut out to be a shinobi," she continued. "And that's okay. If you ever feel like this life isn't for you, the clan will still be here. I'll still be here. Heck, I'll even hire you to work in this shop if that's what you want."

I couldn't help but laugh softly. "Me? Making dango?"

"Why not? You're a hard worker, and the customers would love you." Her smile was warm, teasing but genuine.

Her words eased some of the tension in my chest. I hadn't realized how much I'd needed to hear something like that—that it was okay to doubt, to question, even to walk away if I needed to.

"You don't have to decide now," she said. "But remember, there's no shame in choosing a different path. And you've always got a place here, no matter what."

As if on cue, Shisui streaked past the window, a blur of black hair and determination as he dashed through his own morning run. I couldn't help but grin. "Looks like I'm getting passed up today."

Maki chuckled. "That boy never slows down. Hold on a second." She got up and walked over to the counter, grabbing a couple of dango skewers and tucking them into a small bag. Then she added two bottles of water before returning to the table and setting them in front of me.

"Here," she said. "For you and Shisui. You both need to stay fueled."

I stood up, taking the bag and water with a smile. "Thanks, Ms. Maki."

"Uh-uh." She wagged a finger at me, her smile turning mischievous. "It's Grandma Maki, honey. I don't like formalities, especially with regulars as cute as you, you know that."

Her words made my cheeks flush, and I stumbled over my response. "Uh, r-right, Grandma Maki. Thank you!"

She laughed as I awkwardly gave her a quick hug before dashing out the door. My heart was racing, but this time, it wasn't from my workout. Hugging her had felt like hugging my own grandmother—warm, comforting, and filled with love.

As I sprinted off to catch up with Shisui, I couldn't stop smiling. For the first time since that mission, I felt like I could breathe again.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The training ground was already buzzing with energy by the time I arrived, bag of dango in hand and a bottle of water tucked under my arm. It didn't take long to spot Shisui. He was a whirlwind of motion, bounding between the tall trees like some kind of acrobat.

I leaned against a nearby trunk, watching as he launched himself high into the air, twisting mid-flight. His hand flashed, and a shuriken whizzed through the air, slamming into the bullseye of a target with pinpoint accuracy. Without missing a beat, he threw another shuriken behind his back without even looking, the blade embedding itself dead center in another target.

"Show-off," I muttered to myself, clapping my hands together as he landed gracefully on a low branch.

The sound startled him, and his head snapped toward me, his expression quickly shifting from surprise to annoyance. "Shiro! You nearly gave me a heart attack. You know it's rude to sneak up on someone while they're in the middle of greatness."

I rolled my eyes, unable to stop a smirk. "Greatness, huh? To think, I was gonna share these with you." I held up the bag of dango, the familiar red stamp of Maki's shop visible on the side.

Shisui's eyes zeroed in on the bag like a hawk spotting prey. "Wait, wait, wait—Maki's dango?" He hopped down from the branch, landing lightly on his feet. "Okay, I might've overreacted. You're a saint. Truly."

I grinned, backing away a couple of steps as he approached, holding the bag just out of his reach. "Are you sure? I mean, you seemed pretty sarcastic a minute ago."

"C'mon, don't be like that," Shisui pleaded, taking a cautious step closer.

"You better mean it," I teased, backing up another step.

The next moment, Shisui lunged, faster than I expected. I tried to keep the bag out of his reach, but his fingers brushed the side. Off balance from his desperate grab, he tumbled forward, landing flat on his face

Thud

I doubled over, wheezing with laughter as Shisui groaned, the bag now clutched triumphantly in his hands. He sat up, his hair disheveled, and pulled out one of the skewers, popping a piece of dango into his mouth.

"You're ridiculous," I said between gasps, still laughing as I helped him to his feet.

"And you're predictable," he retorted, chewing happily. "Totally worth it, though."

Once the laughter subsided and we'd polished off the dango, I clapped my hands together. "Alright, let's get serious. We've got a lot to do today."

Shisui wiped his hands on his pants and nodded. "Right. What's the plan?"

I thought for a moment, running through the drills in my head. "First, we should work on our combination jutsu—my fire style with your wind style. If we're gonna use those in real combat, we need to get way better at coordinating them."

"Agreed," Shisui said, stretching his arms over his head. "Our timing's been off. That last attempt was more of a fireball explosion than a focused attack."

"Uh-huh, your specialty, right?" I replied, raising a skeptical brow.

"Correct," he shot back, puffing his chest out in mock pride. "You could never top me in that. I'm the genjutsu prodigy of the Uchiha. Accept it, Shiro."

I sighed dramatically, rubbing my eyes like I couldn't handle his ego. "Oh, sure. The prodigy, huh?"

"Obviously!" Shisui said, his grin widening. "You could try all day, and you still wouldn't come close to my level of—"

Before he could finish, I moved my fingers subtly, forming a quick hand sign. Shisui's balance faltered as he suddenly felt like the ground beneath him shifted. His arms flailed for a split second before he tipped backward and landed flat on his back with a loud thud.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, staring up at the sky, his expression dazed. "What the—? Did you just…?"

I stifled a laugh, looking down at him with an innocent smile. "I believe you," I said lightly, turning on my heel. "Genjutsu prodigy, right?"

Shisui groaned as he sat up, brushing dirt off his back. "You're such a pain, Shiro," he muttered, glaring at me half-heartedly.

I smirked and turned around to form a series of hand signs, 'Earth-Style: Mud Dummies'. The ground trembled slightly before several humanoid dummies emerged from the dirt around the training ground. They weren't anything fancy—just crude figures made of packed earth—but they'd do the job.

"There," I said, dusting off my hands. "Targets to practice on."

As we prepared to start, I glanced at Shisui. "You know, it's a shame we both have fire style, you have wid style, and I have earth style, as our main nature. It limits our combination options for now."

Shisui shrugged. "It's not like we can just pick another nature transformation."

"No, but eventually, we'll learn more than two," I said, pacing slightly as I spoke. "Right now, knowing two at our age is pretty strange. But imagine if one of us could use water and the other lightning. I read in Lord Third's book that water and lightning are an incredible combination."

Shisui rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "True. Water amplifies lightning, right? And lightning conducts through water. That'd be nasty in a fight."

"Exactly. Fire's powerful, but it doesn't pair with as many things. Wind's the best support for it, which is why your style complements mine so well."

Shisui gave me a mock bow. "Glad to be of service, oh wise one."

I snorted. "Alright, wise guy, let's see if you can actually hit those dummies with your 'greatness.'"

Shisui grinned and formed the seals for his wind-style technique, the air around him swirling as he prepared to launch into action.

"Let's make it count," I said, flames flickering to life in my lungs as we faced the first test of the day.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

(A/N: Nothing too intense for this chapter, more of just a slice of life and exploration of Shiro's psychological state right now. In the next coming chapters, there'll be another mission and then a pretty big event after that so be prepared.)