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At the top of the stairs on the second floor, Yamanaka Rino had been standing quietly for some time. She had caught every word of the exchange downstairs. As a mother and a veteran kunoichi, she recognized the signs of blooming youth immediately.
Only when the conversation reached a natural pause did she descend, wearing a perfectly polite smile. Her eyes first softened as they landed on the unique bouquet of purple bellflowers clutched in her daughter's arms, then shifted to Naruto.
"Do we have a guest?" she asked, her tone carrying the measured curiosity of a shopkeeper and a mother.
"Mom!" Ino jumped, instinctively hiding the flowers behind her back. A shy, unmistakable blush radiated across her face.
Rino watched the maneuver with a mix of exasperation and nostalgia. She really does take after me, she thought. Rino remembered her own days at the Academy, how she had favored the handsome boys and how she had eventually won over Inoichi.
She turned her appraisal back to Naruto. The boy was undeniably handsome: golden hair, deep blue eyes, and a steady, dependable air that was rare for his age. Yet, the reality of his status as the Jinchuriki flickered through her mind. In Konoha, that identity was a storm of controversy.
Still, Rino mused, if he makes her happy, and if he is as sincere as he sounds... then his burden is his own. I will support my daughter's heart.
Beside a secluded lake on the village outskirts, Uchiha Sasuke's hands were a blur of seals. His chest swelled to its limit.
"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"
A massive sphere of flame howled across the clearing, slamming into the placid water. Vast clouds of white steam billowed into the air, obscuring the horizon. As the fire reluctantly faded, Sasuke stood panting, his black eyes burning with a turbulent, mismatched scarlet. The single and double tomoe spun unevenly, a testament to his unstable emotional state.
Memories surged through him, as thick and suffocating as the fog on the lake. He remembered failing this very jutsu before his father, Uchiha Fugaku. He remembered the cold, silent shake of his father's head and the retreating back that had branded his heart with the mark of "disappointment."
Those memories—his father's silence, Itachi's unreachable genius, and now his loss to Naruto—merged into jagged spikes that stabbed at his pride.
I am too weak, Sasuke thought, his nails drawing blood from his palms. I can't match Itachi... and now I can't even beat a loser like Naruto. What right do I have to even exist?
He felt himself sinking into an icy lake of self-loathing. But then, a hidden memory pierced the dark. He remembered the day he had finally perfected the fireball. He remembered his father turning to leave, only to pause and speak words that had changed Sasuke's world:
"You truly are my son."
The memory acted as a catalyst. I am the son of Uchiha Fugaku! his mind roared. The noblest blood of the Uchiha flows in my veins! I bear the hatred and the hope of an entire slaughtered clan!
He realized he had no right to fall. The cowardly Sasuke had died the night the clan was murdered; the man standing here was an avenger crawled out of the pits of hell. His only purpose was to kill Uchiha Itachi, and to do that, he would burn through any obstacle—including Uzumaki Naruto.
The shell of despair shattered. His Sharingan blazed with a new, terrifying resolve. He felt his chakra churn and refine itself, sensing the master's breakthrough. The unbalanced tomoe whirled, split, and finally stabilized.
In that instant, twin-tomoe Sharingan blazed in both eyes.
"Katon: Gōka Mekkyaku (Great Fire Annihilation)!"
This was no longer a simple fireball. A vast, searing tidal wave of flame erupted from his lungs—an immense curtain of fire that bore down on the lake with the fury to incinerate the very world. The B-rank jutsu swallowed half the water's surface, a spectacle of crimson fire and white steam that signaled Sasuke had stepped onto a new level of power.
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