The Middle Uchiha

Chapter 12

The morning sun filtered through the window, casting soft golden light across the polished wood floors of my room. I tightened the strap of my weapons pouch and laid it carefully on the bed beside me. My fitted blue Uchiha shirt clung snug against my frame, the fan crest stitched into the back like a mark I never really asked for. Black pants and fingerless gloves completed my training gear — functional, familiar, and silent proof that I wasn't just someone's sister. I was a shinobi in my own right.

I checked the edge of one of my kunai, satisfied with its sharpness, and tucked it into the holster on my thigh. I was ready to go.

Or so I thought.

The quiet creak of the door sliding open drew my attention.

Sasuke stood in the doorway, shoulders squared but eyes uncertain. He didn't say anything right away. Just stood there, watching me.

"You need something?" I asked, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

He stepped into the room, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. "Are you... going to train?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah."

He hesitated, then looked up. "Can I come with you?"

That caught me off guard. I blinked, still adjusting the strap across my chest. "What about Itachi?"

"He's too busy," Sasuke said quickly, his voice dipping just slightly. "He said he can't today. He said I should ask you."

My hand paused on the doorknob. I looked at him more closely. "You really want to train with me?"

Sasuke nodded, stepping closer now. "I've seen you train. You're... really good. Better than most of the older kids at the academy. You make your fire jutsu look easy."

I stared at him. It was rare for anyone in this house to say something like that. Rarer still for Sasuke to say it to me.

"What about Father?" I asked, folding my arms. "He's—"

"He's not like you or Itachi," Sasuke said, cutting me off. "He's strong, yeah, but he's... cold. He doesn't explain anything. You do."

There was no flattery in his tone. Just honesty.

He stood there expectantly, his posture rigid, like he was bracing for rejection.

I sighed and stepped forward until I was standing in front of him. Then, gently, I reached out with two fingers and tapped his forehead — right between the eyes.

His expression lit up with surprise, then softened with understanding. He knew the gesture. It was the one Itachi always gave him — a quiet promise.

"Sure, Sasuke," I said. "I'll train you."

His face lit up completely. "Really?!"

"Really," I said, hiding a smile. "But I'm not going to go easy on you."

⸻

Later That Morning – Uchiha Clan Training Grounds

We stood at the edge of the Uchiha clan's private training field, surrounded by quiet trees and well-worn targets. The sun was high now, the air warming, the cicadas beginning their song.

I dropped my gear under a tree and turned to Sasuke. "Since you can't use Earth Style, we'll skip that. I'm going to teach you one of my Fire Style jutsu."

His eyes widened. "You mean, one you made?"

I nodded. "It's not in the academy scrolls. I developed it myself — took me months to get it right."

He looked at me like I'd just told him I could fly.

"Watch closely," I said, stepping forward.

I formed the hand seals quickly, fingers moving in a tight rhythm. "Fire Style: Blazing Spiral Ember Jutsu!"

I exhaled, and a spiraling stream of fire erupted from my mouth — controlled, compact, twisting through the air like a coiling dragon before slamming into the target dummy and enveloping it in a ring of flames. The fire spun for a moment before extinguishing itself with a hiss, leaving the wood singed and smoking.

Sasuke stared, jaw slack. "That was... that was insane."

I smirked. "It's not raw power — it's precision. The spiral makes it cut through wind resistance and land harder. It's hard to master. But I think you can handle it."

"I want to try!"

"Good," I said, walking over to him. "Start with your breath. Don't just blow out chakra — shape it inside your chest first. Feel it coil, then release it."

He took a deep breath, formed the hand seals slowly, and tried. The flame sputtered and shot out in a messy, unfocused burst, hitting the dirt a few feet short of the dummy.

He grimaced. "Ugh. That sucked."

"First tries always do," I said. "Again."

We went through it over and over — I corrected his stance, adjusted his seals, taught him how to focus chakra in his diaphragm. By the fourth or fifth attempt, the flame had more form. On the seventh, it spun slightly — not tightly, but enough to be called progress.

"I did it!" Sasuke gasped, watching the flames scorch a black ring into the grass.

"You're getting it," I said, breathing a little heavier myself.

After another short break, we did target training with kunai and then a few rounds of light sparring. He was faster than I expected — impulsive but sharp. Still, I kept my edge just enough ahead of him to keep him pushing.

By midday, we were both winded and sweat-soaked. Sasuke dropped into the grass, breathing hard but grinning from ear to ear.

"You're a way tougher teacher than I thought," he panted.

I chuckled, flopping down beside him. "Well, I'm not going to let you surpass me too easily."

He turned his head toward me, his smile softer now. "Thanks, sis."

I looked at him — saw the trust, the admiration, the faint glimmer of something that had been missing for a long time: connection.

So I leaned forward, reached out again, and tapped my fingers gently against his forehead.

"Don't thank me yet," I said with a smirk. "Tomorrow, we're doing chakra control drills."

Sasuke groaned. "That sounds worse than sparring."

I laughed, and for the first time in a long while, it didn't feel like I was standing in anyone's shadow.