Legacy Reborn (Sasuke x RWBY Sequel)

4 - Father & Son

A/N: Sasuke's Outfit would probably still be the same as Boruto's but he would have his other arm. 

Rose Manor, Night

Sasuke arrived at the front gates of his home, the exhaustion from the day's work weighing on him, but the desire to spend even a little time with his family pushed him forward. The cool night breeze brushed past him, and the familiar sight of the manor gave him a sense of peace.

As he entered the gates, his sharp eyes caught sight of a lone figure in the courtyard. A familiar figure with dark hair, his son, Katsuro, was standing near the corner, practicing his throws with kunai and shuriken. The soft thunk of metal meeting target echoed through the quiet night as each throw hit with precise accuracy.

Sasuke paused, observing from a distance. There was something satisfying about watching Katsuro—his son, so focused, so calm—execute each throw with a skill that belied his young age. Kunai and Shuriken landed dead center, one after the other, with mechanical precision. It was impressive, to say the least.

Sasuke's expression softened slightly. Katsuro, like him, wasn't one for words. They didn't need long conversations to understand each other, yet their quiet moments of coexistence were always meaningful. Perhaps tonight was the perfect time to connect on a deeper level, to share something between father and son that went beyond words.

After all, Katsuro—who still carried the memories of Madara Uchiha—would not be easily impressed by anything or anyone. Yet Sasuke saw potential, perhaps even a reflection of himself, in the silent determination Katsuro displayed.

Stepping closer, Sasuke made his presence known. "Your aim is precise," he said, his voice steady and calm. There was no need for over-praising. Katsuro didn't care for it anyway. But respect was something Katsuro valued.

Katsuro glanced with his naturally blue eyes at Sasuke briefly, acknowledging his presence with a slight nod before continuing his practice. "It's not that difficult," he replied, his voice neutral, not boastful. It was a statement of fact. To someone like him, these basic techniques were child's play.

Sasuke stood beside him, watching his son throw another kunai. "True," Sasuke admitted. "But even the simplest techniques require mastery if you want to be truly great. And no matter how strong you are, precision matters." He took one of the kunai from Katsuro's hand, demonstrating his own throw. The weapon flew straight, embedding itself deep into the target's center.

Katsuro glanced at the target, but there was no awe in his eyes. He respected Sasuke's skill but didn't feel the need to show any outward admiration. To Katsuro—Madara—the throw was nothing extraordinary. He could do it just as easily, if not better.

Still, there was something in the way Sasuke handled himself, something about his calm and steady demeanor, that Katsuro couldn't dismiss. He respected his father, even if he didn't show it outwardly.

"I already know how to do that," Katsuro said after a moment, retrieving another kunai. His tone was not dismissive but matter-of-fact. He threw the weapon, and it struck the target with perfect precision.

Sasuke nodded, unfazed by the lack of reaction. He understood his son well enough to know that Katsuro valued actions over words. "Keep practicing," Sasuke said quietly, stepping back. "Even if you're good now, there's always room to improve."

Katsuro didn't reply, but he didn't need to. The silent exchange between them was enough. He respected his father, even if Sasuke's skill didn't impress him the way it might others. And Sasuke, in turn, respected Katsuro's raw talent and the quiet determination behind it.

As Sasuke turned to leave, Katsuro paused, watching his father's retreating form. Though he would never voice it, there was a quiet satisfaction in this time they spent together. Not because of the training itself, but because of the shared silence and the unspoken bond between them. No dramatics, no sentimental speeches—just understanding. That was enough for Katsuro, even if he'd never admit it.