Konohagakure
The sun hung low over Konoha, its orange glow casting long shadows across the academy training field. The muffled chatter of children filled the air, but Rei barely heard any of it, her mind caught in its usual loop of worries and ambitions. She stood off to the side at the far edge of the grounds, gripping a wooden practice kunai, her hands tight enough to make her knuckles pale. The weight of everything—the past, the present, the future—was a constant presence in her chest, a quiet heaviness that she couldn't quite shake no matter how hard she tried.
It had been months since Sakumo's incident. Months since the night Rei ran through the streets covered in blood, her heart pounding, her thoughts frantic. And yet, the memory refused to fade. Every time she closed her eyes—whether in exhaustion after training or a rare moment of quiet—it came rushing back. The sight of Kakashi, frozen and trembling beside his father. The feel of Sakumo's blood slick on her hands, the panic choking her as she tried to keep him from slipping away.
And then there was Takeshi. Her big brother, still lying in that hospital bed, his breathing steady but his body unmoving. She had started losing track of the days—not because she didn't care, but because counting them made it harder. Every time she allowed herself to wonder when he might wake up, it brought a pang of guilt so deep it felt like a wound. How long could she keep hoping before it hurt too much to keep going?
Rei exhaled sharply, shaking her head as though trying to physically push away the thoughts. Her grip tightened around the kunai. Self-pity had no place here. If someone was going to make things better, if someone was going to make sure Takeshi never had to throw himself into dangerous missions again, it was her. She had promised herself that the night after Sakumo was rushed to the hospital: No more waiting. No more being weak.
And yet... here she was. Still at the academy, still doing the same redundant drills. It felt like being trapped, stuck in the middle of a story she wasn't allowed to move forward. Kakashi had already graduated, proving himself as the youngest shinobi in Konoha history. And while everyone else seemed awestruck by his achievement, Rei couldn't help but feel a twinge of bitterness. She wasn't jealous—not really—but there was something about Kakashi's success that made her feel left behind. He was already out there, already getting stronger, while she was still here. Still stuck on repeat.
"Rei!" Obito's voice broke into her thoughts, startling her enough to loosen her grip on the practice kunai. It slipped from her fingers, landing in the dirt with a soft thud.
She turned, blinking a few times to clear her head, and saw Obito jogging toward her from the other side of the field. His grin—always easy and bright—was firmly in place, though it softened slightly when he got close enough to see the tension in her expression.
"Hey," he greeted, crouching down to pick up her kunai before handing it back to her. "You okay? You've been spacing out a lot today."
Rei accepted the kunai, her fingers wrapping around it loosely. "I'm fine," she muttered, though the words felt heavy and unconvincing.
Obito frowned slightly, still crouched in front of her. "You sure? You look... I dunno. Tired. Like you didn't sleep."
"I said I'm fine." This time, there was more bite to her tone, and Obito flinched slightly. Rei felt a pang of guilt at the reaction, but she was too frustrated with herself to soften it properly.
Obito rose to his feet, but the worry didn't leave his expression. He watched her for a moment longer, as if debating whether to push the issue, before glancing toward the center of the training field where Rin stood talking with Anko.
"Session's starting soon," he said quietly. "Don't let Genma say you were slacking, or you'll never hear the end of it."
Rei nodded stiffly, her gaze lingering on Obito as he walked away. There was something different about him these past few months—not just in the way he interacted with her but in how he seemed to watch her, almost like he was waiting for something. It was strange, but Rei didn't have the energy to think about it too much. Right now, her focus needed to stay on her training. On getting stronger. On graduating.
A sharp whistle cut through the air, signaling the start of the training session. The academy instructors stood at the far end of the training field, calling students to gather. Rei jogged toward the center of the field where the others were assembling, her mind already racing through possible drills they might assign. She scanned the crowd out of habit, her eyes briefly landing on familiar faces—Rin chatting animatedly with another girl, Hayate fiddling with a practice katana, Genma casually chewing on a toothpick even though it wasn't allowed, and Anko tugging at the sleeves of her shirt as though itching for a fight.
"Alright, listen up!" the instructor called, their voice cutting through the chatter. "We're splitting you into teams for sparring drills today. Pay attention to your teamwork; this isn't just about individual skill. You'll need to communicate and adapt if you want to succeed!"
Rei straightened her posture, her grip tightening on the wooden kunai in her hand. She knew teamwork was important, but it wasn't her priority today. She needed this opportunity to prove, at least to herself, that she was progressing. That all the extra hours she'd poured into training alone were paying off. She wasn't the strongest student in the class—not yet—but she refused to stay in the middle of the pack.
As the teams were announced, Rei's name was called alongside Obito, Rin, and Hayate. She glanced at her teammates as they gathered together, each of them assessing the others with varying degrees of focus. Rin offered a bright smile, her usual optimism shining through as she adjusted the headband holding back her brown hair. Obito, as usual, grinned at Rei, his expression carrying a mix of encouragement and amusement as though he could sense her determination. Hayate gave a quiet nod, his hand resting lightly on the wooden practice katana at his side.
Their opposing team was made up of Anko, Genma, another student named Arata, and a tall boy Rei didn't recognize well. Rei's stomach twisted slightly at the sight of Anko and Genma—both were known for their aggressive, competitive styles, and while they were still fellow students, sparring against them wouldn't be easy. She knew from their previous training sessions.
"Alright, everyone!" the instructor shouted as they clapped their hands. "You've got one goal: push the opposing team back past the boundary line. Use whatever strategies you like, but remember—teamwork is key."
As the two teams spread out across the sparring area, Rei felt a spark of anticipation igniting in her chest. This was her chance. She could push herself harder than ever before, show everyone—including herself—that she wasn't the same girl who had stood frozen in fear those months ago. She was ready to fight, ready to grow stronger.
The whistle blew, and the sparring match began.
Everything erupted into motion at once. Anko came rushing forward with her usual boldness, her kunai aimed straight for Obito, while Genma circled to the side, his movements fast and fluid as he targeted Hayate. The other two boys on their team held back to defend their line, clearly waiting for an opening.
Rei darted to the right, her feet moving instinctively as she closed the gap toward Anko. The clash of wooden kunai filled her ears as Obito blocked one of Anko's strikes, but Rei was already moving in tandem, aiming a swipe at Anko's exposed side. Anko twisted away at the last second, her sharp eyes narrowing in challenge.
"So you want to play, huh?" Anko smirked, flipping her kunai in her hand as she shifted her focus onto Rei.
Rei didn't respond, her breaths steady as she settled into a defensive stance. She didn't have the time—or the focus—for banter. Anko lunged, but Rei twisted out of the way, her reflexes sharper than even she expected. She pivoted and swung her kunai in a wide arc, and for a brief second, she swore she could feel where Anko was going to move before it even happened.
The clash of wooden weapons brought her back to the moment as Anko blocked her strike, their movements a blur of rapid attacks and counters. Around them, the rest of their teammates were locked in their own skirmishes. Rin had teamed up with Hayate to hold off Genma, while Obito was doing his best to hold the line against the other two boys.
"Come on, Rei!" Obito shouted as he dodged a swipe. "We've gotta push them back!"
Rei's focus flickered for only a moment, and Anko used the opening to sweep her leg. Rei hit the ground hard, her back slamming into the dirt as Anko loomed over her with a triumphant smirk.
"Too slow," Anko teased, but before she could land the winning strike, Rei's instincts flared again. She rolled out of the way and sprang to her feet, her eyes sharp as she countered with a precision strike to Anko's shoulder.
Anko stumbled back, surprised, and Rei surged forward, her movements quick and deliberate. For a moment, everything seemed to blur—her senses heightened, her body moving as though it already knew what to do. She ducked, spun, and struck with impressive accuracy, her wooden kunai landing a clean hit against Anko's chest.
Anko skidded back, her eyes narrowing as she rubbed the spot where Rei had landed the blow. For the first time, her smirk wavered as she regarded Rei with something closer to respect. "Alright, Arakawa," she muttered, flipping the kunai in her hand again. "I see you."
Rei didn't have a chance to celebrate the small victory. Across the field, the match was still raging, and her teammates needed her. Gritting her teeth, she glanced toward the boundary line. They were close. Just a little more, and they could push the other team out.
"You've got this", Rei told herself as she ran to join the others. She didn't know why she was suddenly moving faster, why her instincts seemed sharper, but she didn't have time to question it. Right now, all that mattered was winning.
She sprinted across the field, her eyes scanning the chaos of clashing kunai and dodging movements. Obito was engaging both of their opponents at once, his agility and persistence keeping them at bay but not gaining ground. Rin and Hayate were working together seamlessly, their teamwork pushing Genma back, albeit slowly.
Rei spotted her opening. With a burst of speed, she veered toward Obito's flank, blocking a swift strike from one of their opponents just in time. The impact jarred her arm, but she didn't flinch, using the momentum to swing around and deflect another blow aimed at Obito.
"Rei, watch out!" Obito shouted as one of their opponents lunged at her, but Rei was already moving.
She dodged the attack by a hair's breadth, her senses on high alert as she wove between the scattered movements of the combatants. Everything seemed to slow down around her—her opponents' attacks, her teammates' shouts, even her own breaths. It was as though time itself had warped, giving her a fraction of a second more to think, to react, to anticipate.
In this state, Rei moved like a blur. Her kunai flashed between opponents, each strike precise and aimed. For the first time, she didn't feel the pressure of her teammates' expectations or the fear of failure. All she felt was the rush of combat, the thrill of competition, and an unspoken urge to protect.
As the match intensified, Rei found herself operating on instinct alone. Her training and determination coalesced into something more—something akin to the power that had been stirring within her since she touched the Hisatsume.
The sparring drill ended with a final whistle, and the teams paused, panting heavily. Rei stood poised, her chest heaving as she surveyed the outcome. To her surprise, they had managed to push their opponents past the boundary line. Anko, Genma, and their teammates were spread out beyond the marker, defeated.
Rei's teammates gathered around her, grinning from ear to ear. Obito clapped her on the back, shouting in excitement. Rin and Hayate were laughing, admiring Rei's performance. For a moment, everything else—Takeshi's coma, Sakumo's recovery, the stress of school—faded into the background. Rei had proven something important: she wasn't just any academy student; she was a force to be reckoned with.
But as they celebrated, Rei couldn't shake off the lingering sense of confusion. What was happening to her? These strange feelings, these heightened senses—it was more than just her training. She felt... different.
The instructors approached, offering words of praise and constructive feedback. Rei listened mechanically, her mind elsewhere as she tried to process what had just happened. She knew she needed answers, but for now, she just smiled with her friends, pretending everything was fine.
As they began to disperse, Obito leaned in close. "You were on fire out there, Rei! What got into you?" his voice was full of excitement and curiosity.
Rei shrugged, forcing a nonchalant smile. "Just good training, I guess." She didn't dare reveal the truth—she wasn't even sure what it was herself.
Obito nodded, his eyes sparkling with amusement, but Rei could sense a deeper interest behind them, something she hadn't noticed before. It was a look that hinted at more than friendship, a look that made her heart flutter slightly.
"You know," he said softly, his voice low enough that only Rei could hear, "I think there's more to it than that, Rei. You're starting to unlock something special."
His words startled her slightly. Was it possible? Was she truly accessing something deep within her, something that had been lying dormant all along?
The sun dipped below the horizon as they left the training grounds, casting long shadows across the academy. Rei walked silently with her friends, but her mind was racing. She knew one thing for sure—she needed to understand what was happening to her.
Later that evening, Rei sat alone on the worn tatami mat floor of her family's small training room. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of cicadas outside the window and the rhythmic sound of her breathing. Her wooden practice kunai rested beside her, abandoned since she left the academy earlier, as her focus was now elsewhere. Ever since the sparring session, she couldn't stop replaying those brief moments in her mind—the heightened senses, the almost supernatural reflexes, the way the world around her seemed to slow down.
The memory of the glowing red streak in her hair flickered at the edges of her mind, taunting her. It had appeared faintly once during training—an accidental flash after an exhausting drill a few weeks ago—but she hadn't told anyone. She didn't even know what it meant. Was it related to Raiden? Was it the power he claimed she'd inherited, tied to the storm? She felt its pull, its potential, lingering just beneath the surface, but it remained out of reach, frustratingly dormant.
Rei clenched her fists, staring down at her hands. Becoming stronger isn't enough—I need to figure out what this is. She couldn't waste time wondering anymore, not when she had so much at stake. Takeshi was still in a coma. Her dreams of graduating early felt like the only tangible goal she could chase—the only way she could protect him and stop him from ever having to risk his life again for missions.
In the corner of the room, the Hisatsume rested in its sheath. Rei's eyes drifted to the Arakawa clan's treasured sword, the faint gleam of its decorative hilt catching her attention. She hadn't touched it since the night Raiden's power surged through her. A part of her felt unworthy, unsure whether she was ready to wield something so significant. But another part of her—a louder, more defiant part—said she needed to earn it. She would earn it.
Standing up, Rei crossed the room and knelt before the Hisatsume. Her fingers hovered over the hilt for a moment, hesitating as doubt crept in. "If this is what you meant, Raiden..." she whispered, her voice barely audible, "then I'll prove I can be your heir."
Her gaze hardened as she withdrew her hand and spun toward the door. She wouldn't touch the sword again until the day she felt strong enough to carry it. But today wasn't that day—not yet. For now, her focus would remain on graduating, on proving she could stand on her own without a legacy weighing her down.
The next day at the academy, Rei's determination was evident to everyone around her. She moved through the drills with unwavering focus, her movements sharper and faster than ever before. Rin noticed, shooting her a curious glance as they worked side by side. Even Obito, who usually teased her during training, seemed to watch her with newfound respect.
"Rei, what's with you lately?" Rin asked during a break between exercises, brushing strands of her hair off her forehead. "You're training harder than ever."
Rei shrugged, wiping sweat from her brow. She didn't want to explain it—not fully. "Just trying to get stronger," she said simply. "The exams are coming up, right?"
Rin gave her a thoughtful look, as though debating whether to press further, but ultimately decided against it. She smiled instead, her usual warmth shining through. "You're doing amazing. I'll bet you'll be top of the class soon!"
Rei forced a small smile, though it felt hollow. Top of the class doesn't matter. What mattered was graduating. That was the end goal—the thing she had to fight for with everything she had.
Later that afternoon, as Rei sat in the shade beneath a tall oak tree outside the academy, Obito approached with his usual carefree grin.
"Hey, Rei," he greeted, flopping down beside her without invitation. "You're making the rest of us look bad out there, you know. What's the secret? Special training?"
Rei glanced at him, unsure whether to take his playful tone seriously. "It's not a secret," she replied, leaning back against the tree trunk. "Just practice."
"Come on," Obito pressed, leaning forward slightly. "It's more than that, isn't it? You're moving faster than I've ever seen—and you're not faster than me, just saying."
Rei rolled her eyes at the last part, but deep down, she knew he wasn't wrong. It was something more. Something she couldn't explain. But she wasn't ready to share that yet—not with him, not with anyone.
"You're imagining things," she said, brushing him off.
Obito frowned slightly, his grin fading ever so slightly. "Okay, fine, but... you're starting to change, Rei. I'm not sure what it is, but... it's kind of cool."
Rei blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. He wasn't teasing her anymore—he was being genuine. For the first time, his expression carried something deeper, something that made her heart skip a beat.
"Thanks," she muttered, unsure of how else to respond.
Obito leaned back beside her, staring up at the canopy of leaves overhead. "You know, I think you're gonna graduate early. Just don't leave the rest of us behind, okay?"
Rei smiled faintly but didn't reply. She couldn't promise that—not when graduating early was the only path she saw forward.
As Rei's resolve to graduate early solidified, she began to notice the weight of the village's whispers pressing around her like an invisible force. It wasn't new—Konoha always had its gossip, its quiet judgments spoken in shadowed corners—but lately, the rumors had grown sharper, crueler. She couldn't avoid hearing fragments even when she didn't want to.
"They say Sakumo Hatake's disgrace is why his son barely sticks around..."
"Must be the shame... Poor Kakashi, having to carry all of that on his back."
"Did you hear about the Uchiha visiting him? Fugaku's been over there a lot."
"Why would the Uchiha bother with Sakumo? He's finished as a shinobi."
The whispers about Sakumo stung, lingering like bitter echoes whenever Rei heard them. She knew these people didn't see the man she had seen—the man lying broken but still fighting to recover. All they saw was his weakness, the final toll of his failures. It reminded her too much of how they had treated her father after his suicide. Yusuke Arakawa had been a hero once, respected and admired, but in the end, they whispered behind his back too. She hated it—the hypocrisy, the cruelty of it all.
What bothered her most, though, were the rumors about Fugaku. She hadn't known the Uchiha clan leader well before that night and when he helped her with the bullies weeks before, but she'd seen the way he had acted with Sakumo, the quiet determination as he helped save the man's life. It didn't make sense to her why Fugaku would stay involved after Sakumo's near-death experience. The Uchiha weren't known for such unlikely friendships or alliances. Was it pity? Or was there something more?
Rei couldn't help but wonder what those meetings between Fugaku and Sakumo might mean. The rumors only fueled her curiosity, making her question what was really happening behind closed doors. Her thoughts often wandered to Kakashi, wondering if he knew. But with him rarely around these days, there was little chance of asking—not that she thought he'd tell her. Their strained relationship had made that clear enough.
One afternoon, Rin caught up with Rei after class, her steps light but hurried as she fell into stride beside her. "Rei! Wait up," she called, her voice cheerful as always.
Rei slowed her pace, glancing over at her friend. "Hey, Rin."
Rin smiled warmly, though the excitement in her eyes seemed subdued. "Are you walking home? Mind if I join you?"
"Sure," Rei replied, though her tone was quieter than usual. They walked together in companionable silence at first, the hum of cicadas filling the air as they left the academy grounds.
After a few minutes, Rin broke the silence with an innocent-sounding question. "Hey, Rei... have you heard the rumors about Sakumo-san and the Uchiha? People keep talking about it."
Rei's chest tightened slightly, but she kept her voice neutral. "Yeah, I've heard them. Why?"
Rin hesitated, her expression turning thoughtful. "It's just... I was at the hospital with my dad a couple of months ago, and I saw Fugaku visiting Sakumo-san. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now?" She frowned slightly, as though puzzling over the rumors herself.
Rei glanced at Rin, her curiosity piqued. "Did anything seem... strange about it?"
Rin shook her head. "Not really. Fugaku's visits were brief. I wasn't close enough to hear what they were saying. But... it just felt unusual, you know? The Uchiha don't usually keep ties like that, especially after an incident like Sakumo-san's."
Rei nodded slowly, her mind racing with possibilities. "It is strange," she agreed. "But maybe... maybe there's more to it than we know." She couldn't help but wonder if Kakashi knew better than anyone what was happening behind those closed doors.
Rin seemed thoughtful for a moment before she smiled again, brighter this time. "Anyway, that stuff doesn't matter right now. What matters is how amazing you've been doing in training! You've been pushing yourself so hard, Rei—I wouldn't be surprised if you graduate early like Kakashi."
Rei blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. "Thanks, Rin, but... I don't know. I'm trying, that's all."
"Well, it's definitely showing. Even Obito's starting to notice! He won't say it outright, but I think your training is making him want to work harder." Rin giggled, clearly amused by the idea.
Rei smiled faintly, though her thoughts remained distant. "I just want to get stronger," she said quietly. She didn't elaborate, but Rin didn't press her, sensing the weight behind her words.
As the evening approached, Rei found herself wandering Konoha's streets alone, her thoughts swirling endlessly. The whispers about Sakumo, Kakashi's absence, the curiosity about Fugaku—it all blended with the memories of Takeshi and her determination to graduate early. She passed by the hospital without meaning to, her eyes lingering on the building's windows. Even from the outside, it felt heavy, almost suffocating, as though it carried every worry she couldn't let go of.
Rei paused for a moment, staring up at the windows where Takeshi's room would be. "I'll make this happen," she whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible. "Just wait for me, Takeshi. I'll make sure you don't have to risk your life anymore."
The faint glow of her red streak flickered briefly, catching the moonlight as it passed. Though Rei didn't notice, the quiet surge of power hummed deeper within her, its presence waiting for her to fully awaken it.
She adjusted her satchel and turned away from the hospital, her footsteps steady as she walked toward home. She didn't know exactly what would come next, but she knew one thing for certain: she was done waiting. She would move forward, no matter how hard it was, because her path wasn't one anyone else could clear for her. It was hers alone.