While my body trained every day, my mind worked on a completely different problem at night.
The Sharingan.
The Uchiha clan talked about it constantly.
According to them, the eye awakened through emotional tragedy.
They called it the Curse of Hatred.
A dramatic name.
But emotional stories rarely explained biological systems.
Instead of listening to clan legends, I studied the research of Tobirama Senju.
The Second Hokage had studied the Sharingan like a scientist examining a machine.
His conclusion was brutally practical.
When an Uchiha experiences extreme emotional trauma, the brain releases a special form of Yin chakra.
That chakra travels through the optic nerves and changes the eye itself.
In other words, the Sharingan was not mystical.
It was biological.
Emotion simply triggered the process.
Think of it like adrenaline.
When someone is in danger, the body releases chemicals that make the heart beat faster and muscles stronger.
The Sharingan worked similarly.
Trauma triggered a biological reaction.
Once I understood that, a dangerous thought appeared.
If trauma produced a specific chakra pattern…
then maybe the same pattern could be recreated artificially.
Simulated.
The idea was risky.
But curiosity was stronger than caution.
Over the next several weeks I began experimenting with Yin chakra meditation.
Each night before sleep I created a quiet mental space inside my consciousness.
Think of it like building a private room inside your own mind.
A place where outside interference couldn't easily reach.
Inside that mental room I began building defenses.
If genjutsu attacked the mind, then strengthening the mind itself was the most logical defense.
At the same time, I started studying the nervous system.
The human body sends signals through nerves the same way electrical wires carry electricity.
If chakra could travel through chakra pathways…
then maybe it could interact with nerves as well.
During the third week of experiments, I tried something simple.
I sent tiny pulses of chakra into certain nerve pathways.
The effect was immediate.
Muscles responded faster.
Movement felt sharper.
It was like upgrading the wiring inside a machine.
From that discovery I developed a small technique I called Body Analysis.
By feeding tiny amounts of chakra into my nervous system, I could monitor how tired my muscles were.
It was similar to how modern devices display battery percentage.
Instead of guessing when to stop training, I knew exactly when my body reached its limit.
Eventually curiosity pushed me further.
If nerves controlled muscles…
then optic nerves controlled vision.
One afternoon after finishing two hours of shuriken practice, I experimented again.
I sent extremely small pulses of chakra toward the visual processing center of my brain.
For a brief moment the world seemed slower.
Not actually slower.
But easier to follow.
Like watching a video in slow motion.
I called this effect Pseudo Dynamic Vision.
It wasn't the real Sharingan.
But it was a useful imitation.
For now, that was enough.
Three months passed like this.
Training.
Experimentation.
Observation.
Slow improvement.
Eventually the day arrived when the gates of the Konoha Ninja Academy opened for entrance exams.
Compared to my training routine, the exam felt almost insulting.
Basic shuriken throwing.
Elementary chakra control.
A written test that barely took thirty minutes.
Still, I held back.
Standing out too much attracts attention.
Attention invites investigation.
Investigation exposes secrets.
So I performed just well enough to appear talented.
But not extraordinary.
The result was predictable.
I passed near the top of the list.
That evening my parents celebrated quietly at home.
The acceptance scroll sat on the dinner table.
My father studied it before speaking.
"The Academy is the first real step," he said. "You'll meet children from across the village. Allies outside the Uchiha district matter."
My mother gently ruffled my hair.
"You train too hard," she said softly. "At the Academy… try to be a child sometimes."
A child.
The word felt strangely distant.
In another life I had already lived as an adult.
Responsibility.
Ambition.
Failure.
Death.
Reincarnation hadn't erased those memories.
It had only placed them inside a smaller body.
"I'll learn what I need to learn," I replied calmly. "The Academy is simply another stage of preparation."
My father laughed quietly.
"Just don't treat your classmates like tools," he said. "The Will of Fire is about bonds."
I nodded.
But my thoughts were already moving toward the future.
The Academy was not a place for friendship.
It was a place for observation.
For studying the children who would one day shape history.
And for preparing myself…
for the night when the sky above Konohagakure would burn red.