The wind tastes of iron.Every breath I take feels heavy, as if the world itself remembers the dead.They say the river never stops flowing — yet I wonder how many tears it carries within.
I am six and a half years old. Old enough to stand, to speak, to kill. Too young to understand why the sky keeps bleeding for us. Three days of travel have hardened my body and my mind, but each step still carries the weight of the lives already lost.
Three days of travel. Three nights of silence. The world around me shifts from the comforting hum of the clan's forest to the bitter echo of war. Smoke stains the clouds. The earth smells like metal and fire. Each gust of wind carries whispers — voices of men who once laughed, once dreamed, now nothing but dust and memory
The battlefield stretches before me now. Rows of tents rise like bones on wounded soil. Smoke curls from braziers, mingling with the faint tang of blood. Soldiers walk silently, their faces masks of solemnity, but their eyes betray exhaustion, grief, fear, and determination.
When they see me, a hush falls over the camp. Whispers ripple through the rows of men:
"Indra-sama… he's here.""The boy with the Six Eyes."
"A prodigy, but still a child…""He shouldn't be on the battlefield… a child…"
I hear them all. Every word. Every doubt. Every awe and terror that trembles behind their gazes. I cannot allow fear to infect me. I walk forward, steady, my boots pressing into the earth like a heartbeat that will not falter.
A guard at the main tent stops abruptly when he sees me. His eyes widen, and he bows deeply.
"Young Master Indra, the Clan Leader awaits. Shall I announce your arrival?"
"Yes," I reply, my voice quiet, yet every word carries the weight of my purpose. "Tell him… his son has come to support the frontlines."
The guard disappears behind the tent flap, and for a moment, I am left with the wind and the heavy silence of anticipation. A moment later, I'm called in.
Inside, the air smells of ink, smoke, and authority. My father, Tajima Uchiha, sits at the head of a table carved from oak, maps scattered before him like broken history. Around him, elders stand, their faces etched with years of war. Their eyes, sharp and calculating, fall on me.
I kneel on one knee, as custom demands, voice steady and disciplined:
"Clan Leader. I, Indra Uchiha, son of Tajima Uchiha and Hana Gojo, have come to support the frontlines."
The room is still. The only sound is the faint rustle of paper as a map shifts in the wind. Their gazes weigh upon me — disbelief, awe, unease. They have seen many prodigies, but never one so young, so powerful, yet disciplined.
My father's eyes soften just a flicker — a warmth buried beneath decades of duty.
"You've grown, Indra," he says finally. His voice is calm, but I feel the faintest tremor of pride hidden in the syllables. "Go and rest. Tomorrow will demand everything. We anticipate a battle at dawn You will join us then."
I bow, hiding the slight frown that touches my lips. "As you command, Clan Leader."
I turn and leave, though the echo of his words — rest well — feels like a cruel kindness.
Back in my tent, the air is still and suffocating in its quiet. A single candle flickers, casting long shadows over the mat. I sit, pressing my hands to my knees, trying to swallow the storm rising in my chest.
Outside, the camp murmurs with low voices — soldiers praying, sharpening weapons, writing their names into the dirt as if afraid they'll be forgotten by morning. A man softly hums a lullaby for a child he will never see again. Many soldier's kneels, biting there fist, muttering the names of his lost brothers, sisters, wives, and fathers.
This world is a graveyard of hope, yet people cling to it like it is precious — and it is.
I close my eyes, feeling the faint flicker my Sharingan about to awaken but my Six Eyes beneath my lashes of. With strong pulse, it hums with clarity, with awareness. Pain, loss, and injustice pulse through me, yet they are tempered by purpose.
Why do we fight? For pride? For revenge? For survival?
I open my eyes. The candlelight flickers across the maps and ink stains, the weapons and scrolls, the quiet desperation of men who have seen too much. I want to tell them — no, I need to tell them — that strength is not cruelty, and power is not the right to destroy. But they cannot hear a child.
A whisper forms in my chest. A vow:
I will become strong. Strong enough that the world listens. Strong enough to end this cycle of blood. Strong enough to save every soul I can reach.
My fists clench. The weight of destiny presses down like iron on my shoulders. My mind flares with visions — of battlefields soaked with blood, of children crying for parents lost, of villages burning under the arrogance of men too proud to stop.
And then — clarity.
I will walk through this fire. I will carry sorrow in my heart, and still, I will rise. For if I do not stand, no one else will.
Three days have passed since leaving my home. Now, as the first shadows of dawn stretch across the battlefield, I step outside my tent. The camp is alive with motion. Soldiers ready weapons, sharpen blades, and whisper prayers into the mist. A flag flutters above the central command post — the Uchiha crest, a scarlet fan against gray skies.
I touch the necklace my stepmother gave me. Her warmth, her fear, and her love are woven into its silver threads. She cannot come to the front — her illness would betray her body in moments — yet her spirit moves with me.
I whisper softly:"For you… for them… for all."
The wind brushes against my cheek. It feels like a promise.
Meanwhile, at Mount Myōboku…
The cavern is still, bathed in the glow of ancient bioluminescent moss. The Great Toad Sage stirs from centuries of slumber, opening eyes that reflect the weight of eternity. He surveys the world with ancient patience.
"The wind has shifted… again."
"He walks upon burning embers, yet his feet do not bleed.""He looks upon death, and death bows before him.""He carries sorrow like a crown of thorns — yet in his heart, blooms peace."
"The boy with eyes like the calm sea and soul like the raging storm… he will tear open the cage of fate."
"He is not born of prophecy… he is the prophecy."
"A god in the making, yet chained by humanity. A child of light who will walk through the ruins of shadow."
"When rivers burn and skies weep crimson, his name will rise like dawn."
"A man with strong justice… the one who will bring the storm of peace — and silence the war of gods."
The chamber quakes. Every toad in Mount Myōboku lifts its head, sensing the pulse of destiny that resonates across mountains, forests, and battlefields.
"Prepare," the Great Toad Sage murmurs, his voice fading into still air."For the fire of destiny has awakened once more."
I return to the camp, the prophecy unknown to me but somehow felt in the stillness of my chest.
I sit again in my tent, closing my eyes as dawn slowly paints the sky in shades of crimson and gold. My thoughts drift to the soldiers, my father, my younger brothers, and the countless innocents caught in the tides of hatred. I allow myself a single tear, and let it fall freely — not of weakness, but of acknowledgment. The world is broken, and my soul will bear that weight.
I clench my fists again, this time with certainty.
I am Indra Uchiha.I am six and a half, and I will not fail.
The sun rises. The battlefield wakes. And I rise with it — a child with the heart of a storm, carrying the sorrow of the past and the promise of the future.
The river flows again.The dawn rises.And I walk toward destiny — not as a boy of war, but as the beginning of a legend.
[Explanation for my Fanfiction]
[This fanfiction is a slow-paced story. The main character is strong, but he is not a god. He fails sometimes, and these failures are what make him stronger.
The premise is a simulation: he is living in the world of Naruto with foreknowledge of the future. He possesses knowledge of many advanced combat techniques, but he cannot use most of them yet because he is trapped in a child's body.
One crucial point is his age: he is only six and a half years old. While his mental age is around 30, having been reincarnated from a previous life, he was a common man in that life. He was powerless to get justice for his late wife. This means that while he is mentally strong compared to a normal child, his resilience is a mere façade when compared to the harsh realities of the ninja world. He must learn, adapt, and grow into his power, becoming absolutely strong—but not overnight.]