Darkness.
For a long moment, that was all there was — no sound, no pain, no memory. Only the stillness between one heartbeat and the next.
Then came warmth.
A muffled voice. A rush of breath. And suddenly — life.
The wail of a newborn filled the chamber, small but fierce, echoing off the wooden walls of the shrine.
"It's a boy," the midwife whispered, her voice trembling with relief.
Keiko Uzumaki lay pale but smiling beneath the dim lantern light, her eyes glistening as she reached for her child. Her long black hair clung to her cheeks, and faint seals etched into the walls shimmered with a soft spiritual glow.
Ishida Uzumaki stood beside her, tall and composed even in exhaustion. His crimson hair framed bronze eyes that softened as he gazed down at the tiny bundle in his wife's arms.
"He's strong," Ishida murmured, brushing a finger against the baby's cheek. "Look at that grip."
Keiko laughed weakly. "He gets that from you."
"What will we name him?" Ishida asked, though the answer was already in her eyes.
"Rion," she said softly. "Rion Uzumaki."
The wind outside shifted — a distant rumble of thunder, a flicker of light along the ancient seals. It was as if the mountain itself acknowledged the child's arrival.
And thus, under the storm's lullaby, Rion Uzumaki was born.
---
Six Months Later — Spring
The shrine's courtyard bloomed with cherry blossoms. Petals drifted lazily on the wind, landing in Rion's small hands as he sat in his mother's lap.
Keiko smiled down at him. "You like the petals, little one?"
Rion cooed softly, eyes following each falling flower. His tiny fingers clenched around one, then released it again, watching it float away.
"You see," Keiko whispered, "the wind carries them where they belong. Just like people. Just like fate."
Beside them, Ishida chopped wood with smooth, controlled swings. His movements were precise — each strike clean, efficient. Even as an infant, Rion watched with intense curiosity, eyes wide and unblinking.
When the axe fell silent, Ishida turned, catching his son's stare. "He's been watching me for ten minutes straight," he said, a rare smile tugging at his lips.
Keiko chuckled. "He's your shadow already."
Rion babbled something incoherent, waving his arms as if trying to mimic his father's motions. Ishida knelt beside him, tapping a finger to his nose. "Patience, little warrior. One day, I'll teach you."
Rion laughed — his first real laugh.
It was a sound both parents would never forget.
---
Ten Months Later — Late Summer
Rion had learned to walk — wobbly steps that always led him toward trouble. The shrine's priests adored him, calling him the little spirit child, but his curiosity often made them nervous.
Keiko found him one morning trying to climb the altar steps where sacred seals glowed faintly. "Rion!" she gasped, scooping him up before his tiny hands could touch the inked talisman.
He blinked up at her, completely unbothered, his crimson hair sticking out like a wild flame. "Shiiine," he said proudly, pointing at the glowing seals.
Keiko stifled a laugh. "Yes, they shine. But they're not toys, my love."
Ishida, watching from the doorway, crossed his arms. "He has good eyes. He sees the chakra threads in the seals already."
Keiko shot him a playful glare. "Don't encourage him."
Reiko bounded in moments later — seven years older, all energy and sunshine. "Mother! He's walking again? Let me try!"
Before Keiko could stop her, Reiko took Rion's hands and lifted him upright. "Come on, baby brother! Step… step…"
Rion stumbled, then fell face-first into her lap, giggling uncontrollably. Reiko laughed too, tickling his sides. "You're hopeless."
Keiko shook her head but couldn't hide her smile. "He's stubborn. That's an Uzumaki trait."
Ishida chuckled softly. "Then he'll go far."
---
One Year Later — Early Winter
Snow blanketed the shrine. Smoke curled from the chimney, and the sound of laughter filled the small home.
Rion, now barely two, sat cross-legged beside his sister as she tried to show him how to write his name on parchment.
"Like this," Reiko said proudly, holding up the brush. "R-I-O-N."
Rion frowned, his small hand gripping the brush awkwardly. His strokes were crooked, messy, but the letters formed — barely.
Reiko's jaw dropped. "He did it?!" she shouted.
Keiko peeked in from the kitchen. "What did he do?"
"He wrote his name! Kind of!" Reiko said, shoving the parchment up proudly.
The marks were childish scrawls, but Keiko's heart swelled. She knelt beside them, brushing a kiss against Rion's head. "You're growing too fast, my little one."
Rion looked up at her with curious eyes. "Mama, why do words… move?"
Keiko blinked. "Move?"
"They shimmer. Like wind," he said softly.
Her smile faltered slightly. "You… can see that?"
He nodded innocently.
Ishida, entering the room, overheard and froze mid-step. He exchanged a glance with Keiko — quiet understanding, tinged with awe and worry.
"He sees chakra flow," Ishida murmured. "At his age?"
Keiko whispered, "Then his soul truly is touched by something greater."
But to Rion, it was all just colors — bright, dancing lights that surrounded everyone he loved.
---
A Few Months Later — Early Spring
Rion's curiosity had grown even sharper. He followed his father everywhere — during training, during meditation, even during prayer.
"Why do you close your eyes, Father?" he asked one morning as Ishida sat before the shrine.
"To see clearly," Ishida replied without opening his eyes.
Rion tilted his head. "But your eyes are closed."
A soft chuckle escaped Ishida. "When you stop seeing with your eyes, you start feeling with your spirit."
Rion frowned in concentration, then closed his eyes too, imitating his father. "I feel… warm."
"That's your chakra," Ishida said gently. "The life inside you. It listens when you're calm."
Rion's eyes opened wide. "Like the trees?"
"Yes," Ishida said with a faint smile. "Like the trees."
Reiko, watching from a distance, whispered to Keiko, "He's so serious. He doesn't play like other kids."
Keiko smiled wistfully. "His heart remembers something his mind does not."
---
The Dream — Winter
Snow whispered against the roof as Rion slept.
He dreamed of a vast field made of glass, stretching endlessly beneath a red sky. The air shimmered, and two massive eyes opened in the void — one white, one crimson. Symbols glowed within them: Alpha (Α) and Omega (Ω).
The world vibrated with a deep hum.
"Rion Uzumaki," a voice whispered — ancient, calm, and infinite. "You have walked two lives."
Rion turned, searching for the speaker. "Who… who are you?"
"A soul forged by fire… reborn in light. The path awaits."
The symbols pulsed — and warmth flooded through him, filling his chest with the same calm power he once felt long ago, in another life he could not recall.
"What am I?" he whispered.
The voice softened. "You are both beginning and end. Alpha and Omega. The child of two worlds."
Light consumed him — white and red intertwining like twin stars.
He woke with a gasp.
Keiko rushed in, kneeling by his side. "Rion! What's wrong?"
He blinked up at her, trembling. "I… I saw the light again."
Keiko's expression gentled. She stroked his hair. "It was only a dream, my love."
Rion shook his head. "No… it felt real. Like it was calling me."
Keiko hesitated, then pulled him close. "Whatever it was, you are safe now. You are here, with us."
He nestled into her arms, heartbeat steadying against her chest. The warmth of her chakra surrounded him — calm, loving, alive.
Outside, dawn broke over the mountains. The shrine's seals shimmered faintly, reacting to the boy's awakening energy.
Keiko whispered into his hair, "You are my light, Rion. Whatever you become… you will never be alone."
Rion's small hand tightened around her robe as his eyes slowly drifted shut again.
For now, he was just a child — curious, loved, and safe.
But deep within his soul, something ancient stirred — waiting for the day it would awaken.