Darkness.
And then—breath.
A single gasp tore through the stillness, filling tiny lungs that had never breathed before.Cold air seared my throat as a faint light broke through the haze.
I didn't know where I was.I didn't remember where I was supposed to be.
All I knew—was that I was alive again.
Voices surrounded me—muffled, distant, yet wrapped in warmth.
"He's strong," a man said softly, his voice trembling with exhaustion. "Just like Shisui."
"Our second son…" a woman whispered through tears. "Welcome to the world, Ryuken."
The name echoed faintly inside my newborn mind.Ryuken.A name I hadn't chosen—but somehow accepted.
I couldn't speak. I could barely move.But I understood enough.
I had been reborn—not as Richard anymore, but as someone new.
Then I saw it.
A cloth beside the bed, embroidered with a red and white fan.
The Uchiha Clan's crest.
So that was it.I was in that world—the world I used to dream about.And now, I was part of it.
Konoha, Year 37
The Second Shinobi War had ended… or so people claimed.But the tension still lingered—thick, invisible, and heavy enough that even a newborn could feel it in the air.
Both of my parents were jōnin of the Uchiha clan, called to the front lines to support the Konoha Police Force only days after I was born.They didn't have a choice.Duty came before family.
My brother, Shisui, was only a year older—curious, bright-eyed, full of life.He would often crawl close to my cradle, poking my cheeks and giggling, while our grandmother watched us with weary, distant eyes.
I rarely cried.Even as a baby, something in me had already accepted the truth of things.Maybe it was the remnants of my past life—or maybe that's just who I was.
Either way, I never cared for bonds.They never lasted.
Weeks passed.
One rainy night, I awoke to the sound of soft sobbing.Grandmother sat near the window, her wrinkled hands clutching two folded hitai-ate.The metal plates gleamed faintly under the pale moonlight, the Uchiha fan etched deep into each one.
Her voice cracked as she whispered,
"They're gone… both of them."
I didn't need to ask who she meant.Even without fully understanding her words, I knew.
Our parents were dead.
The air in the room grew heavy.Each breath hurt.My tiny hands clenched around the blanket as a strange heat burned behind my eyes.
The world twisted.
Shadows deepened.The candlelight bent.
And then—everything turned red.
In the reflection of the window, I saw my face:A child's face, barely able to focus—and eyes glowing with a single, spinning tomoe.
A one-tomoe Sharingan.
It pulsed like a living thing, alive with grief, confusion, and everything I didn't yet understand.
And then, just as suddenly, it was gone.The red faded back into black.
I blinked slowly, dazed.
Just my imagination…
But deep down, I knew it wasn't.Something inside me had awakened—born not from rage,but from emptiness.
That night, the rain kept falling.Shisui crawled into my bed and fell asleep beside me, blissfully unaware.
I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling that faint echo of power still burning behind my eyes.
I didn't cry.I didn't mourn.
Bonds. Love. Family.They all end the same way.
So I decided—even as an infant—that I would never depend on them again.
I was Ryuken Uchiha.The one who would live without ties, without illusions,and without mercy for a world that thrived on both.