Zuko cannot stop thinking of the masked man. He dreamed of it – of Tenma’s throat being slit, of the smooth, impossibly efficient movements of the sword. It appeared over and over in his mind in picture perfect clarity, the scene replaying like it's happening once more before his eyes.

The curse of the sharingan. The blessing of the sharingan.

His father was ecstatic that he has awakened the bloodlimit of their clan.

“You awakened your sharingan age eight – “

“– it brings joy to the clan when one of us excels –”

“You are my son after all.”

Blah blah blah.

Zuko wanted to ask Fugaku what the hell he’d been smoking.

One of his teammates was dead, the other has resigned from shinobi life, and Fugaku was congratulating him?

Clearly Zuko had judged him too soon and this father was missing several screws as well.

If Izumi – his daughter Izumi – had seen such bloodshed at eight, Zuko never would have reacted like this.

He was not his father. He has never been his father. This fact holds true in both lives.

But even if Zuko disagreed with Fugaku’s attitude, he cannot disagree with the pride he has for the sharingan. It's a fearsome tool.

The second he activated them, his fighting ability skyrocketed. People’s movements become so obvious that he can predict what they will do before they do it. The flightpath of weapons was made clear as day, genjutsu was useless against him, and ninjutsu might as well write themselves down on scrolls for him to master.

He utilised it against some shady ANBU folks – shadier than normal that is – during a training exercise with Shisui, and was astounded by how easy combat can be.

Of course, all these benefits were provided at the low price of engraving traumatic memories into his mind, mental instability and likely insanity somewhere down the road.

Zuko would like a refund please.

His ability with thrown weapons – already extremely good – becomes perfect, and Sasuke spends his days nagging him to show him the shuriken techniques he’s mastered.

“Nii-san, found you!”

“Nii-san! Will you practice the shuriken trick with me?”

“Nii-san, can you teach me again like today?”

Honestly, Zuko finds Sasuke a bit tiring; the kid was relentless.

The dogged determination to improve, always injuring himself while training, the impatience of youth. He’s had to distract his foolish little brother more than a few times to get away, poking Sasuke on the forehead and slipping out while he’s pouting. (It honestly doesn’t bode well for Sasuke’s ninja career that this continues to work.)

Sasuke really was nothing like Azula, if anything he was more like–

Zuko paused.

If Sasuke was more like Zuko in this scenario – the least talented child, unfavoured by his father and doted on by his mother – then does that make Zuko Azula?

No. no way.

There’s no way he will turn out like Azula.

The ability to lie without a single tell. Prodigal talents in all that she did. Causing people terror simply by existing. Their every encounter resulting in more psychological torture, using family relationships to wedge the knife deeper, and using his childhood nickname because she knew he hated it.

And then it all ends with him seated alone in an abandoned family throne room, awaiting the final, epic clash where he devolves into the full insanity of his bloodline, and the less talented sibling finally overcomes the other.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Nah. Zuko shook his head, snorting. As if.

Besides, if his little brother was the Zuko of this universe – the socially awkward guy with swords, fire and the ability to redirect lightning – then he supposed Sasuke would gather his own Team Avatar equivalent.

The wind natured one – who is actually a reincarnated sprit, not that he remembers it – would constantly try to befriend their enemies while promoting peace and understanding. Another would be a miraculous healer with a temper who could also kick ass. Then there would be the guy from Water with the sword and sarcasm, and finally the one who looked innocent on the outside but would transform into a raging, cackling beast of destruction in a fight.

But the sheer number of coincidences that would take just wasn't happening.

Sasuke would have to leave his home and everything he had ever known in order to set out on a task that everyone knew was impossible. Then, within three years, he finds his target, the target ends up dead, and though he was involved he wasn't directly responsible. Everyone will think it was him though, and then a master manipulator – who happens to be related to him – will take him away while he believes he just accomplished everything he ever wanted.

Zuko relaxed. The sharingan, contrary to some claims, cannot predict the future. Neither can Zuko and he’s glad for it. He doesn’t want to know about the misfortune he will suffer in advance. It’ll be bad enough experiencing it.

----------------------------------------

Zuko was fond of Izumi, despite the fact she’s a known demon sympathiser. She’s a bright and ambitious young girl who reminded him of his daughter, though far more idealistic and less practical.

She also gave him dango.

Zuko has just waved goodbye to her as he continues on his way through the compound to his training session with Shisui. The older Uchiha is warming up in their usual spot and eyes the dumpling sticks in his hand.

“Bumped into your little girlfriend?” Shisui teased, waggling his eyebrows outrageously.

“What?” The Uchiha heir stared at him blankly, the sheer unexpectedness of the words causing him to blink.

“You know, the girl who always blushes when she sees you, gives you dango for free, goes by the name Izumi?”

“What!?” Zuko did not splutter. “That’s disgusting, she’s like my daughter!”

Shisui eyed him weirdly. “Don’t you mean like your sister?”

“Sure, sister. Whatever. But I would never date her, that would be incest!!”

Shisui snorted. “You do know your parents are both Uchiha? And they’re considering Izumi as a match for you, right?”

“WHAT!?” he shrieked so loudly he startled the birds. Shisui grinned.

“You guys get along, she’s activated her sharingan, and she’s only half Uchiha so it introduces new blood to the main family. I can’t believe you didn’t know this.”

“Not happening.” He can’t marry anyone named Izumi! That’s his daughter! “I can't marrying her, actually I think it’s a terrible idea to marry within the clan in the first place. What if my children go insane from the incest!?”

“Um.”

Ah crap.

Zuko turned around to see the girl in question shuffling from foot to foot.

“I was just going to give you the rest of the dango, if you want Itachi-kun?” Izumi's voice trailed off uncertainly and she held the basket of sweet dumplings out in front of her like an offering.

Zuko was ashamed to admit that his hand moved automatically to accept the basket.

“Ah. Yes, thank you Izumi,” he said stiffly.

Izumi mumbled a goodbye and fled.

Zuko still had as much skill when dealing with the fairer sex as he did before; that was to say, none.

He never thought he’d think this about himself but thank goodness he’s pretty. If he was both ugly and completely witless, the only person who would agree to marry him would be the kind of gold digger he needs to stay well away from.

Well. He's still nine, there's no need to worry about girls. He'll track Izumi down later.

“Firebending?” Zuko suggested, turning back to Shisui.

Shisui was kind enough to ignore the desperation in his tone. “Sure thing Itachi.”

----------------------------------------

“Right, so you’ve learned the best way to defend against fire - when you can't dodge - is to redirect the other person’s fist before it can even aim at you. But sometimes that isn’t possible, so today I’m going to teach you how to slice fire.”

“Slice fire?” Shisui sounded very intrigued. Zuko grinned, because this was one of his favourite moves when he first learnt it from Uncle because it looked really cool.

He took a stance. “Give me a huge jet of flames, five second burst."

Shisui breathed in, slipping smoothly into a ready position before transitioning forwards, a fist outstretched and fire blazing from the tip. The wave of energy hurtled towards Zuko who didn’t try to escape. Instead, he stepped forwards, hands pressed flat together and he dug his fingertips straight into the fire. It parted before him rushing past, the haze of heat rustling his hair.

Zuko straightened and smiled. “Fire slicing.”

“That is so cool!” Shisui bounced on his toes, grinning from ear to ear. “Does it work on chakra fire too?”

“Yep, I’ve managed to split every Fire jutsu I've tested with it. It doesn’t matter if it’s got chakra or what shape it’s in; if it’s fire then you can bend it.”

Shisui sighed in contentment. “Man, firebending is the best thing ever! You know, the other day I found myself fighting some Kiri shinobi who had stolen a byakugan. His squad were all out thanks to my illusions, but of course the byakugan prevents that, so I went with plan B and blasted him with fire.” The older Uchiha’s smile morphed into a wicked smirk.

“He was so confused because there was no chakra in the fire and the byakugan can see that. He totally thought I had managed to get him in a genjutsu too! Man, you should have seen the look on his face,” Shisui snickered.

Zuko felt pride swell in his chest, the feeling so overwhelming he felt like he would burst.

“Shisui, don’t tell anyone but you’re my favourite student!”

“Why? So your other non-existent students won’t complain?”

"Uh. Just shut up and take the compliment.”

“Hai hai, I’m so flattered Itachi-sensei.”