Mikasa Uchiha

Will Of Fire

Almost Three More Years Later

Mikasa, now nearly six years old, stood in the training grounds of the Uchiha compound. The towering trees cast long shadows as the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of gold and orange. Clutching a wooden practice sword, Mikasa's small frame seemed out of place among the imposing scenery, yet her posture exuded a calm confidence far beyond her years.

Across from her, Sasuke, her older brother by a few minutes, mirrored her stance. His dark eyes were filled with determination, brow furrowed in concentration. Their sparring sessions had become routine, an unspoken contest to meet the high expectations set by their father, Fugaku Uchiha. Fugaku stood silently at the edge of the training ground, arms crossed, watching his children with the same critical eye he had once used on Itachi.

But Itachi was different. A prodigy. By the age of seven, he had already graduated from the Ninja Academy, marking himself as one of the most gifted shinobi of his generation. At ten years old now, Itachi was far beyond what was expected of even the most talented young shinobi. He watched the sparring match from a distance, a quiet smile on his lips, his expression betraying both pride and a sense of responsibility toward his siblings.

"Sasuke, your guard is slipping again," Mikasa said, her voice calm but firm, almost like that of an instructor. Her tone, far too composed for a child her age, echoed the depth of experience she carried within her.

Sasuke's grip tightened on his wooden sword, his eyes flickering with frustration, but he adjusted his stance as instructed. "I'm not going to lose this time," he muttered through gritted teeth.

Mikasa offered him a small smile, a gesture both encouraging and knowing. "We'll see."

Their movements became a blur of strikes and parries, each swing of the wooden swords precise, deliberate, and far more advanced than expected of children preparing to enter the academy. Sasuke was strong and quick, but Mikasa's refined control and fluidity gave her the edge. Every time Sasuke thought he had her, she countered effortlessly, her experience showing in her calculated maneuvers.

Itachi observed quietly, noticing how Mikasa's movements seemed almost instinctual. She reminded him of himself at that age—perhaps even more so. Mikasa's ability to grasp complex techniques, even without formal academy training, was nothing short of astonishing. He wondered if their father realized just how special she was.

As the sparring match neared its conclusion, Sasuke lunged forward, aiming for Mikasa's side. But she sidestepped effortlessly, spinning and tapping the back of his knees with her wooden sword, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Panting heavily, Sasuke looked up at her from where he lay. "You win... again," he muttered, but there was no resentment in his voice—only admiration.

Mikasa offered him her hand, pulling him to his feet. "You're improving, Sasuke. It won't be long before you beat me."

Sasuke took her hand, wiping sweat from his brow. "I'll hold you to that."

Fugaku approached then, his expression unreadable as always. "You both did well," he said, his voice steady and authoritative. "But there is still much to learn. You must continue to sharpen your skills if you wish to carry the Uchiha name with pride. The ninja academy is only the beginning."

Mikasa and Sasuke stood straighter, absorbing their father's words. Despite his praise, the weight of his expectations loomed heavy over them. The academy awaited them soon, and Fugaku had been relentless in preparing them for the challenges ahead.

After a moment's pause, Fugaku continued, "In time, I will teach you both the Great Fireball Technique. It is a rite of passage in our clan, a symbol of our strength. When you master it, you will prove your worth as true Uchiha."

Sasuke's eyes lit up with excitement at the mention of the legendary Uchiha jutsu. "The Great Fireball Technique? Are you really going to teach us that, Father?" he asked, barely able to contain his eagerness.

Fugaku nodded solemnly. "When you are ready," he said, his gaze moving between his son and daughter. "Both of you will learn. But it will require discipline and focus. Only then will you carry the flame of our clan."

Mikasa nodded, her heart steady. She had lived through battle and fire before, in another life. This new world's challenges were different, but the Great Fireball Technique, a symbol of her clan's pride, was something she was determined to master.

Sasuke's resolve seemed to solidify even further. "We'll make you proud, Father. I promise."

Fugaku gave a slight nod, his approval subtle but clear. "See that you do." With that, he turned and left.

As the session ended, Itachi walked over to his siblings, his presence calm and steady. "You're both ready for the academy," he said quietly. Then, turning toward Mikasa, his voice carried both encouragement and a hint of caution. "More ready than most."

After addressing Mikasa, Itachi shifted his gaze to Sasuke, his expression softening. "You've improved a lot, Sasuke. Your dedication shows," he remarked, offering his younger brother a rare smile.

Sasuke, standing a little taller, beamed at the praise. "I won't stop until I can beat you, Itachi."

Itachi chuckled softly, though there was a seriousness in his eyes. "Keep that determination. But remember, strength isn't everything. Stay focused, and you'll surpass me in your own way."

Mikasa looked up at her older brother, her expression softening. "You've been a great teacher, Itachi. I couldn't have done it without you."

Itachi smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes, one that Mikasa recognized but did not press. "The academy is just the beginning," he said, his tone more serious. "There are things even our father cannot teach us. Be careful, Mikasa."

She nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. She knew, just as Itachi did, that the world of the shinobi held darkness far beyond their father's strict training. But Mikasa had seen darkness before, and she was ready to face whatever lay ahead.

As they walked back toward the compound, the setting sun bathed the world in a warm glow. For a moment, there was peace, a quiet stillness that allowed them to forget the burdens of their future.

As they neared the entrance to their home, Sasuke looked up at Mikasa, excitement shining in his eyes. "Do you think we'll be the best in the academy?"

Mikasa smiled, her heart full of affection for her brother. "We will be the best, Sasuke. Together."

But in her mind, doubt lingered. She knew how far she had come, and she knew the burden of greatness that loomed over the Uchiha name. The academy was a stepping stone—one that would determine not just their standing, but their survival in a world where only the strongest endured. Mikasa was no stranger to hardship, but this world, with its rigid hierarchies and deadly ambition, was different. It wasn't just about strength; it was about strategy, alliances, and understanding the hidden currents of power that swirled around them.

That night, as they settled into the warmth of their home, Mikasa lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The quiet hum of the village in the distance filled the air. She thought about her father's expectations, Itachi's sadness, and the looming challenges that awaited her and Sasuke. The academy would be the least of their worries in the years to come. And yet, a part of her was ready. Ready for whatever the future would throw at them. She had faced loss, and fire, and war before.

How would this life be any different?

She would do it again, this time for her new family. She had the will of fire within her.