Naruto: Threads of Crimson

The swirling vortex tore open the sky with the sound of a thousand storms, crackling with an untamed, ferocious energy that sent shockwaves through the atmosphere. From its spiraling center, a lone figure plummeted toward Earth, trailing behind him streaks of golden light like a dying star.

Kurohiko Ōtsutsuki, once a celestial being of grace and unimaginable power, fell from the heavens, his body a wreck from a battle that had scorched his once-magnificent robes and drained his energy to near extinction.

His eyes, once filled with the brilliance of a thousand suns, now flickered faintly, struggling to stay focused as he scanned the world below. Even in his weakened state, his vision reached far beyond the horizon, spanning miles upon miles of landscape.

The ground loomed closer. 

BOOM

Kurohiko's descent ended with an earth-shattering impact, sending a shockwave through the forest in the Land of Bears. Trees were uprooted, the ground cratered under the sheer force of his arrival. For a moment, silence reigned. Dust and debris floated down like ash from the sky as the air stilled.

Kurohiko lay motionless, breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. The portal that had flung him here had closed behind him, leaving him stranded, broken, and on the brink of death. He groaned, pain shooting through his battered body as he forced himself to rise just enough to get a glimpse of the sky.

His once-golden rinnegan eyes glowed faintly, struggling to find what he sought. His mission, his very existence, was at stake. His legacy could not end here.

"Must… find… a worthy host…" he muttered, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His chakra, once limitless and vibrant, was now a flickering ember. With what little strength he had left, he extended his senses outward, feeling the flow of energy in the world around him. The vast expanse of souls spread across the land, but only a few possessed the potential to harbor his power, and none looked to be able to survive his infusion.

He was running out of time. His vision blurred, dark spots creeping into the edges of his sight. Then, like a beacon cutting through the fog, he felt it, a presence. A small, yet powerful aura, pulsing faintly from a distant village. It was weak now but brimming with untapped potential, a soul that could withstand the burden of his power.

"There… is… hope…" he gasped, the faintest flicker of a smile crossing his lips before his body collapsed again, his energy too depleted to carry on. He was too far, his mortal body giving out. But he refused to let it end like this. Summoning what little remained of his spirit, Kurohiko sent his essence racing across the landscape, flying at impossible speeds, leaving his broken shell behind.

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In the heart of the Uchiha compound, inside a modest home, a newborn lay swaddled in warmth, blissfully unaware of the celestial conflict unfolding so far away. The infant's name was Shiro, his tiny body wrapped snugly in soft blankets, his breathing peaceful and steady. The child slept soundly, his dark hair framing a serene face, his pitch-black eyes shut tight against the world.

The spirit of Kurohiko arrived, hovering invisibly over the infant like a ghost, his once-mighty presence reduced to a flicker of what it had been. Despite the cost, he gazed down at the newborn, knowing what had to be done.

"Forgive me, little one… but you are… the only suitable person…" Kurohiko whispered, his voice almost a breath of wind. Without further hesitation, his essence intertwined with the child's chakra, his soul merging with Shiro's.

A brilliant flash of golden light filled the room, momentarily illuminating the space with a soft, ethereal glow before fading into silence.

As the last of Kurohiko's consciousness was absorbed into the child, a golden diamond-shaped symbol imprinted itself onto the back of Shiro's cerebellum. It was subtle, hidden from view, but there all the same—a mark of destiny, a promise of unimaginable power, yet to awaken.

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In my mindscape, I floated in a strange, dreamlike haze. It was all so… surreal. The memory of a dream, something about a man crashing through a patch of snow and dining with Santa Claus, lingered at the edges of my thoughts, odd and out of place. I rubbed my temples, trying to shake off the strange images, when, out of nowhere, a ball of bright, golden light appeared before me.

The light was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic, and it radiated warmth unlike anything I had ever felt. I took a step back, startled by its sudden appearance. But there was no fear in me, only curiosity. This light—it felt familiar? like something I had known my whole life but could never name. The closer I got, the more I realized it was calling to me, pulling me toward it with an unspoken promise of safety, of belonging.

I reached out, hesitant at first, my hand trembling. But then, almost without thinking, I pushed forward, my fingers brushing the surface of the glowing orb.

In an instant, everything changed.

A flood of memories that weren't my own surged through me—memories of ancient battles, pale-horned beings clashing for power and survival. I saw civilizations rise and fall, felt the weight of victory and the sorrow of defeat.

Faces I didn't recognize flashed before me, one after another, until the image of a tired, sorrowful man lingered. His eyes, glowing with the same golden light as the orb, looked down upon me. His lips moved, though I couldn't make out the words.

"You'll remember… when… next…"

The words echoed faintly, but before I could understand them, the memories vanished as quickly as they had come, dissolving into the void of my mindscape. I was left standing there, breathing heavily, confusion swirling in my head.

"What just happened? Where am I?" I asked myself, trying to piece it together. I looked back at the glowing ball, 'wait, had I touched it already?' It was still there, pulsing gently, as though waiting for me to touch it again.

This time, I didn't hesitate. My hand shot forward, and the moment I made contact, the orb exploded into countless particles of light. They danced and flickered in the air around me, swirling like fireflies before, one by one, they shot directly into my eyes. 

I tried to move, to escape, but there was no avoiding them. Every single particle of light hit me, flooding my senses until all I could see was a blinding, golden radiance.

Suddenly, my brain seemed to catch up to my body, and a searing pain exploded in my eyes. It felt as if two knives were being twisted into my eye sockets, sending shockwaves of agony through me.

"AHHHHH!"

My newborn body jolted awake, writhing in agony as the scream tore itself from my throat. The intensity of the pain blurred the lines between my dreams and reality, and the remnants of that strange, otherworldly vision lingered, like an echo in the back of my mind. My eyes burned fiercely, the sensation unlike anything I had ever felt, as if the very fabric of my vision had been altered.

In an instant, my parents appeared, materializing at my bedside as though they'd been summoned by the sound of my cries. Their Sharingan flared to life, spinning wildly with protective fury.

I could feel their presence, sharp and alert, ready to defend me against anything, or anyone, that could have caused my distress. But as their eyes scanned the room and found nothing out of place, they slowly lowered their guard.

My mother was the first to move, her eyes softening as she reached down and lifted me into her arms, cradling my head gently against her chest. "Shhh, shhh, it's okay, baby boy," she whispered, her voice smooth as velvet. "There's nothing to scream about. You're safe." Her words seemed to wrap around me, soothing the fire that still burned in my eyes.

I blinked up at her, confused. Something felt off, something more than the pain that still pulsed behind my eyes. The room around me was dark, but as I stared at my mother's face, I realized… it didn't look dark. In fact, everything seemed illuminated, as if a hidden light source had switched on. Her face was crystal clear, her features bathed in what looked like sunlight, even though the room should have been dark.

'Can I… see in the dark?' I wondered, squinting slightly as I tried to make sense of the new sensation. Everything looked sharper, more defined, like I was seeing with a clarity I had never known before. The details of my mother's face—the slight curve of her smile, the softness in her eyes—were so vivid it almost made me dizzy. 'Why does it feel like I can see so much better all of a sudden?'

My mother must have noticed the change in my eyes, though she controlled her reaction expertly, her face remaining calm despite the flicker of shock in her gaze. She glanced at my father, her voice barely above a whisper. "Kaito… look at our baby."

"Hm? What's—" My father's question died on his lips as soon as he looked down at me. His jaw dropped, his dark eyes widening in disbelief. "H-how is this possible? He shouldn't have awakened his Sharingan yet. He's only six months old," my father murmured, his voice thick with confusion as he gently lifted my eyelids to get a closer look.

His Sharingan, with its three distinct tomoe, stared into my newly awakened one-tomoe Sharingan. He blinked rapidly, his initial shock giving way to a deeper analysis. "Everything seems… normal. The chakra flow is stable, there's no disruption in his energy. The coloration is perfect, and the tomoe are positioned just as they should be," he said, his voice softening with a hint of pride.

"For all intents and purposes, his one-tomoe Sharingan looks exactly how it should." A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he gazed at me, his eyes full of wonder. 

My mother, on the other hand, seemed almost breathless with excitement. "Kaito, this is unheard of. We have to tell Fugaku. If this is real, Shiro could receive the best training possible!" Her words came quickly, her voice tinged with hope and awe as she looked from me to my father.

Kaito nodded slowly, though his practical side kicked in. "I agree… but without proof, it's difficult. Shiro won't be able to control his chakra properly for a while yet. We'll have to wait for him to show signs of control." He glanced down at me, my sleepy eyes half-lidded, struggling to stay open.

My mother smiled, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Even so, they should know we wouldn't lie about something as big as this. We have a future prodigy on our hands, Kaito. He could be… something incredible," she said, her voice thick with emotion. Her gaze lingered on me, pride and love shining in equal measure.

Seeing the tears well up in her eyes, I instinctively reached out, my tiny hand awkwardly brushing her face. I wanted to wipe them away, though my coordination wasn't the best yet.

She laughed, a soft, musical sound, and gently kissed my forehead. "Oh, my sweet little prodigy," she murmured, rocking me back and forth as she began humming a familiar tune—a lullaby I somehow knew had been passed down through our family for generations.

'You think a lullaby's going to… work on… me?' I thought, stubbornly fighting the heaviness in my eyelids. But despite my best efforts, sleep tugged at me. The warmth of my mother's embrace, the soft rhythm of her humming, and the gentle patting of my father's hand on the back of my head were too much. I felt myself slipping, my thoughts growing slower and more distant.

As I drifted back into the haze of sleep, I could hear my father's voice, low and full of pride. "You're already making us proud, Shiro. We'll protect you. You'll do great things, son."

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(A/N: This is a pretty plot-driven chapter; we won't see much of this plot point until he's around mid-twenties or so, but he will still be affected by this due to certain things like chakra capacity, control, and so on.)