*Waterfall Village*
The forest was still in the pale wash of dawn. Mist clung low to the ground, and the river ran smooth as glass, a faint shimmer under the early sun.
Sasuke stood at its center, bare chest rising and falling in quiet rhythm, his feet steady atop the shifting water. The boy had been swallowed by this river too many times to count. Now it carried him. No trembling, no sudden splash. Balance had become instinct.
On the bank, Shisui watched with his arms folded loosely, his Sharingan faintly spinning in quiet observation. He let Sasuke stand a few breaths longer, then spoke.
"That's enough."
Sasuke opened his eyes, dark and steady, and stepped off the surface. Droplets trailed after him, sliding from his soles as if reluctant to let him go. He came to stand before Shisui, expectant, a small flicker of anticipation in the quiet set of his mouth.
"What comes next?"
Shisui slipped a hand into his pouch and drew out a square of thin paper. It rustled lightly in the breeze. Sasuke's brows rose slightly. Ordinary at first glance, but nothing Shisui carried was ever ordinary.
"This is chakra paper," Shisui explained, crouching so the boy could see it clearly. "It tells you the truth about your nature. Every shinobi's chakra leans toward an element. Fire, wind, lightning, water, or earth. Most spend years mastering one. Some can touch two."
He let the slip flutter once between his fingers. "The reactions are simple:
— Fire will burn it.
— Wind will slice it.
— Lightning wrinkles it.
— Earth crumbles it to dust.
— Water dampens it."
Sasuke nodded once, sharp and quick. His eyes didn't leave the paper.
Shisui smiled faintly. "I'll show you first."
He pressed his chakra into the slip. The effect was instant: half of the paper blackened, curling into ash with a faint hiss of smoke. The other half did not char, but tore cleanly in two, split as if cut by an invisible blade.
"Fire," Shisui said simply, holding up the burned edge. "The Uchiha's inheritance. My strongest." He turned the split halves over in his hand. "And wind. Not as fierce, but sharp enough. I'm pretty good with both."
He let the pieces fall, scattering into the grass, and straightened. "Now you."
Sasuke accepted a fresh slip, holding it with careful fingers. He closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a steady breath, then pushed his chakra into it.
The paper shivered, then wrinkled sharply, folding into jagged ridges. A faint crackle of static sparked across its surface.
Sasuke's eyes widened. "Lightning…"
Shisui's Sharingan caught the flicker of the reaction. His gaze sharpened, but his voice stayed even. "So that's your core. The flow comes most natural to you. Quick, precise. Dangerous when mastered."
But the paper was not finished. Its other half ignited in sudden heat, curling black as flame consumed the edge.
"Fire," Sasuke murmured, voice lower now.
Shisui gave a slow nod. "Fire burns strongest in you. It always will. Your clan gave you that, and your mother made it more."
Then, almost reluctantly, the last fragments shifted. A thin, perfect line tore straight down, splitting the remaining piece into two. They drifted quietly to the dirt.
Sasuke's breath caught in his throat. "…Wind?"
The boy stared down at the halves in his palm. His brows pulled together, confusion and awe clashing across his young face.
For a while, Shisui said nothing. He studied the torn paper, the faint crackle of lightning still clinging to its edge, the burn, the split. He had expected something—Mikoto's pendant had not been an empty trinket—but three? Fire, lightning, and wind woven together in one child's chakra? Even for him, it was rare enough to stir unease.
At last, he exhaled. "Fire and wind—we share those. But you… you carry one more. Lightning. That makes three."
Sasuke looked up at him quickly, waiting for praise. He wanted to hear it. Needed to. But Shisui's face remained solemn.
"Do you think this makes you strong?" he asked quietly.
The boy flinched at the tone. His jaw tightened, fists clenching. "Doesn't it?"
Shisui crouched, lifting one of the torn halves from the dirt. He turned it in his fingers, the clean slice catching the sun.
"Three flames burn brighter," he said slowly, "but they also consume faster. Power isn't free, Sasuke. What your mother left you will lift you higher than most. But if you lose control of it—" He crushed the paper in his fist, the fragments scattering through his fingers. "—it will destroy you from the inside out."
The boy's lips pressed into a thin line. He looked down at his hands, then back up at Shisui, voice rough but steady. "Then I'll master them. I won't be consumed."
Shisui studied him for a long moment. Something in the boy's tone—earnest, unyielding—echoed painfully of another time, another boy, another promise. A smile tugged faintly at his lips, pride and worry mingling in equal measure.
"You'll try," he said softly. "And I'll make sure you don't fall."
He paused then, as if remembering, and added quietly, "I'm not proficient with lightning myself… but I'm not bad with it either. I'll guide you where I can."
He reached into his cloak, fingers brushing the familiar weight of steel. The dagger slid free, its hilt wrapped tight in black thread to hide the Uchiha crest. The faint curve of the blade caught the morning light, gleaming like a shard of fire.
"Your next step isn't just to hold chakra," Shisui said, extending the weapon. "It's to shape it. To pour it into steel. To make it cut with your will."
Sasuke's gaze locked on the blade. He reached out, small fingers closing around the thread-wrapped hilt. Against his chest, the pendant throbbed faintly, warm and alive, as if answering.
The river rippled behind him, reflecting boy and blade alike.
And somewhere beyond the trees, unseen but not absent, the faint glow of red eyes lingered—Sharingan, silent witness to the moment.
Shisui ignored it. His focus remained only on the boy before him.
"Now, Sasuke," he said, his voice even but carrying weight, "show me how you'll carry these three flames."
**End of chapter 14**