Chapter Text
My face is the product of two people who hate each other.
Mother always said she wanted children, but I doubt she meant what the village prepared for me, the village she cared for so deeply. Their union wasn't accidental, but it wasn't a marriage arranged for money or to extend a clan either. It was something more.
Yuka Hyuga belonged to the "lesser" part of the clan - the branch family, marked with the seal on her forehead. Despite that, she was selected by scientists as the woman with the strongest genetic pool among the young, unmarried women. Imagine the chaos that caused among the remaining clan members.
Father - Kase Uchiha, brother of clan head Fugaku - didn't stir such emotions. For him, it was just a duty. A duty he hated.
"Hikari, but why did the village care so much about uniting members of two rival clans?" you might ask.
These were times when the Third Great Shinobi War threatened us. Konohagakure wanted to be prepared for any possibility. There's no better way than a living weapon you can control.
I was meant to be that weapon. A miracle child inheriting both of the most powerful visual techniques in the Leaf Village's arsenal. Combined with the Nine-Tails Jinchuuriki, it was supposed to give the village absolute victory. Of course, no one considered the objection of any of the "subjects" - because that's exactly how they treated us.
***
From my earliest years, I remember constant doctor visits.
Mother said it was for my own good, that they wanted me to be healthy and strong. She called me her "little ray of hope for a better tomorrow" and I think she took it too literally when she named me. I know she loved me, tried to convince herself and me that the constant manipulation of my chakra and the doses of medication that caused terrible headaches were justified.
I was maybe six years old when one of those days burned itself into my memory particularly deeply.
The sterile white of the examination room was blinding. Lamplight reflected off metal instruments laid out on a tray beside me. It smelled of chemicals and something sharp that stung my nose. I sat in a high chair, my legs not reaching the floor, swinging nervously in the air.
"Hikari, you need to stay completely still," said the doctor, a man in a white coat with a cold, indifferent voice. I don't remember his face. I only remember latex gloves and the metallic gleam of instruments.
My mom stood beside me, her hand resting on my shoulder. I could see the seal on her forehead-the green manji that always reminded me that even in the clan that was supposed to protect us, she wasn't free. She smiled, but her eyes betrayed worry.
"Everything will be fine, little ray," she whispered, squeezing my hand.
The doctor approached with a small instrument - something that looked like a metal pen with a tiny light at the end. He aimed it straight at my eye.
"Open wider."
I tried not to blink, but the light burned. Tears came to my eyes despite my will. I felt something warm - chakra - flowing through the instrument directly into my iris. It wasn't ordinary pain. It was a feeling like someone was driving hot needles deep into my eye sockets.
"Just a moment longer," the doctor muttered, not taking his eyes off mine.
I squeezed mom's hand so hard I probably left nail marks on her skin. The second eye. Then another instrument. This time an injection - directly into my neck, right next to the artery. I felt cold spreading beneath my skin.
"Now the pills."
They handed me a small white tablet and a glass of water. I knew what would come next. It was always the same. I swallowed, though my throat clenched in protest.
For the first few minutes, nothing. Then the pulsing began behind my eyes - like hammer blows, rhythmic and merciless. The light in the room became too bright. Sounds-too loud. Mother's breathing, the rustle of the doctor's coat, the ticking of the clock on the wall-everything hit me like waves.
"Mama..." I whispered, but my voice sounded so weak, as if coming from very far away.
"I'm here, sweetheart," I heard her voice, but her face began to blur. The world spun.
I fell from the chair, but I don't remember hitting the floor. I only remember darkness and Mommy's warmth as she lifted me.
***
When I woke up, I was lying in a bed in the next room. My mom sat beside me, covering me with a warm blanket. Her hand stroked my hair, gently, as if afraid I might shatter.
"You're very brave, little ray," she repeated quietly, as if those words could stop the pain. "See, it's all for your own good."
I didn't always believe her. But when I lost consciousness, she was the only constant who stayed with me. Young women from the Hyuga clan cared for me like aunts, covered me with blankets, watched over me until I fell asleep. I called them aunties or older sisters, depending on their age, because I never had real siblings.
***
Father was home too rarely, and when he was - it seemed he wished I didn't exist at all.
Kase Uchiha. Brother of Fugaku, the clan head. A man who should have been my father but never could accept me. He hated both me and Mother. He wanted a son and believed women were weak and doomed to failure from the start. When it turned out his child was a girl, he considered me a personal failure.
But not only that. In the silence of our home, in the cold glances he threw my way, there was something more - disappointment that I hadn't awakened the Sharingan. That my eyes remained ordinary, brown, empty.
***
I met Itachi when I was five years old.
I lived with Mother among the Hyuga, but sometimes the village required us to attend official Uchiha clan gatherings. Mother hated those days. I saw her hands tremble as she tied my hair, preparing us to leave.
The Uchiha clan garden was crowded. Children ran around, adults talked, some trained. I stood close to Mom, holding onto the corner of her kimono, when a boy approached me. Maybe a year younger than me, with long black hair tied in a ponytail and huge, dark eyes.
"You're Hikari, right?" he asked quietly. His voice was calm, more mature than a child's should be.
I nodded, not knowing what to say.
"I'm Itachi. Your cousin." He smiled slightly. "I know you live with the Hyuga, but... I'm glad I finally got to meet you."
Mom placed her hand on my head, and her voice sounded gentle:
"This is Fugaku's son. Your uncle."
Itachi extended his hand.
"Maybe we could train together sometime? I heard you're doing well at the academy."
That was the beginning. From then on, Itachi came to us, sometimes accompanied by Shisui - an older cousin with a cheerful smile and bright eyes. They had to sneak away to spend time with me, though they risked their parents' and guardians' anger. They were the only fragment of normal childhood I could have.
Sometimes we played in the garden, sometimes we trained in secret - every smile, every gesture of care gave me the feeling I wasn't completely alone in this cruel world. Shisui taught me how to better throw shuriken, and Itachi showed me the basics of combat strategy. They didn't think I was a failure. They didn't look at me like an experiment.
To them, I was just Hikari.
***
I remember one day - I was seven years old.
One of the boys from the Uchiha clan, maybe ten years older than me, saw me training alone in the yard. I stood before a wooden post, trying to form hand seals I'd seen others perform during training.
"Want to learn something real?" he asked, approaching. It was Tekka, one of the cousins who sometimes didn't treat me like air.
"Real?" I repeated uncertainly.
"Gōkakyū no Jutsu. Our clan's basic technique. Every Uchiha should know it." He smiled slightly. "Even you."
My heart beat faster. A clan technique. Maybe if I mastered it, maybe if Father saw that I could... that I was part of the Uchiha clan, just like him...
Tekka taught me the seal sequence: Snake - Ram - Monkey - Boar - Horse - Tiger. I repeated them over and over until my fingers ached. For a week I practiced in secret, gathering chakra in my lungs, feeling the warmth build in my chest.
Until finally, it worked. A small fireball - no bigger than a child's head - shot from my mouth and struck a tree. The leaves shook and the bark charred.
I was so proud.
***
That evening, Father came home. I heard his heavy footsteps on the veranda. The black clan robe billowed behind him, and exhaustion showed on his face.
I didn't hesitate. I ran out to the yard.
"Father!" I called, and he stopped, barely looking at me.
"What?" His voice was flat, emotionless.
"I want to show you something!" I positioned myself before him, my hands already forming seals. Snake. Ram. Monkey. Boar. Horse. Tiger.
I took a deep breath, focusing my chakra, and exhaled a fireball. It was smaller than the ones I'd seen from others, but it was there. It burned, bright and hot, before dissipating in the air.
I turned to him, waiting. Maybe a smile. Maybe a word of acknowledgment.
Kase looked at me for a long moment. His eyes, black and cold, didn't move.
"That's all?" he finally said.
"But... it's Gōkakyū no Jutsu..." I whispered. "The clan technique..."
"Weak," he cut me off. "Pathetic. Even a child could do better. You're not Uchiha and you're never be."
He turned and entered the house, leaving me alone in the darkening garden.
I stood there for a long time, looking at my hands. I felt tears welling in my eyes, but I didn't let them fall. Not in front of him. Not here.
***
Even training with Itachi and Shisui, who considered me a promising kunoichi, didn't change Father's perception. To them, I was someone worth attention. To him, I was only a failure.
***
The academy was a place of loneliness for me.
Training day. The instructor lined us up in rows before wooden targets. Each of us held a stack of kunai.
"Remember the force and trajectory of your throw!" the instructor shouted. "Kunai are the basics. If you can't throw accurately, you won't survive your first mission!"
I stood in position, weighing the kunai in my hand. I felt its coldness, weight, perfect balance. I closed my eyes for a moment, imagined the flight path, and threw.
Crack.
The kunai embedded itself in the center of the target.
"Excellent, Hikari!" the instructor called. "Again!"
I threw another. And another. All hit nearly perfectly.
I turned, perhaps expecting recognition in others' eyes. But instead I only saw whispers. A girl nearby, Kiomi, leaned toward a classmate:
"How does she do it? She doesn't have the Byakugan..."
"Maybe something's wrong with her. I heard her mother has the Byakugan, but she herself..." the boy whispered back, glancing at me furtively.
"She's weird. Doesn't fit with the Uchiha or the Hyuga."
I pretended not to hear. I took another kunai, focusing on the target. But their words remained, settling in my mind like glass shards.
After training, when other students dispersed in groups, I stood alone, collecting kunai from the target. Some threw glances my way-curious, sometimes envious, but always distant.
"Hikari, come with us to the canteen!" one of the girls called, but before I could answer, her friend pulled her by the sleeve.
"Leave her. She's always alone..."
It was hard to find peers who wouldn't look strangely at a girl with dark brown eyes whose mother had the Byakugan. People treated me like something special, strange, and... like alien.
***
One night, when I couldn't sleep after another doctor's visit, Mother came to my room.
She sat on the edge of the bed, and moonlight fell on her face, gently illuminating the seal on her forehead.
I always tried not to look at it too long. I knew what it meant. That even in the clan that should have been her family, Mother was controlled. That someone else decided her life and death.
"I can't sleep," I whispered.
"I know, darling." Her hand stroked my hair. "Does your head hurt?"
I nodded.
Mother sighed quietly, and in her eyes I saw something I could never name. Sadness? Regret? Maybe guilt?
"Mama..." I whispered quietly. "Why all this? Why these doctors...?"
"Because you're special, Hikari." Her voice trembled. "The village... they believe you can be someone great. Someone who will protect it."
"But I don't want to be great," I said quietly. "I just want to be... normal."
Mother hugged me tightly. I felt the wetness of her tears in my hair.
"I'm sorry, little ray. I'm sorry for everything."
I didn't understand then why she was apologizing. But now, looking back, I see that she knew. She knew what she was to me, what they were to me. And despite that, she couldn't protect me.
Because she herself was a prisoner.
***
My life was filled with doctor visits, academy training, and rare moments of normalcy with Itachi and Shisui. I spent my time mainly studying, repeating techniques, and trying to fit into a world that wasn't made for me.
In classes, during exercises or training missions, I was often left alone. Other students treated me with reserve, curiosity, sometimes quiet envy. But always with distance. A girl without the Byakugan living with the Hyuga, without the Sharingan living with Uchiha blood - I was an anomaly no one could understand.
Despite everything, those small moments with my cousins gave me a sense of belonging, though I knew that in the world that created me, my value was measured only by the strength and potential of my eyes.
The academy taught me something important: loneliness doesn't have to mean weakness. Through it, I discovered I could rely on myself, trust my own instincts, and draw conclusions from every situation. Every day spent in training halls, every sleepless night after doctor visits, every glance from Itachi or Shisui added to my determination to survive.
I didn't yet know that everything I'd learned would soon be put to the hardest test. That the world, which seemed predictable and orderly, would suddenly crumble into tiny pieces. That my life, until then subordinated to the village's plans and controlled by others, would transform into one great question: how to survive when even those closest can't protect you?
Soon an event would come that broke my childhood and unleashed a power I had no idea existed. Barely nine years old, faced with death and chaos, I would discover that my eyes hid something more than ordinary power.
Something that could change my life forever.
***
I was never a child. I was a weapon they created.