CHAPTER 3: Pep-talks and Tough Love: Seven year olds were easier to console than fifteen year olds. Especially when the kid in question was having self-esteem issues. Stupid hormones.

SPECIAL BIRTHDAY CHAPTER THAT I WROTE ON SASUKE'S BIRTHDAY. OKAY. I UPLOADED LATE BUT I WROTE IT ON THAT DATE SO. STILL COUNTS =)

oh, and I know I went from child to teen. I told you it was in no order :) whatver comes, I type. Haha ENJOY. :)

Thanks for all the love for this series. Reviews make me happy, keep them coming? =) really, they make my day.

XX

Ah yes, that time of the year has come when a Shinobi of his calibre was told that he had once again survived another year of his life as a ninja, and in Uchiha Sasuke's case, a parent. And he had to say, surviving another year of parenthood was more surprising a feat than him living through S-ranked missions.

Having a one year old girl and a seven year old boy was harder than any training course imaginable. Between diapers and getting trapped in an ambush? Yeah—he'd take ambush. Plus now one kid was developing some sass in his little system. Gone were those 'cute' days when the child would take his answers as is and let the question go; Now he had a kid who wouldn't stop questioning him.

Daisuke was seven—he wasn't supposed to get sassy until fourteen; ten at the earliest. He did still have that cute innocence but wow was the sass beginning to show. He figured it must be from Sakura, that woman oozed sass and spunk, training with Tsunade didn't help his case either.

And so now, while other parents enjoyed and fawned over their seven year old's (he wouldn't say gullibility, mental malleability was more like it) he would sit through an argument over why the sky was blue and that it wasn't because of stupid ninjas who paint it everyday. Whoever gave his son that idea was surely going to die a painful death.

Sky-painting ninjas his ass. What the hell was wrong with them?

Sasuke glared at his paperwork and shoved them to the side of his desk carelessly, glancing outside his window that took up half of the wall behind him. It was his birthday and he was in his office going through ANBU profiles and arranging them by alphabetical order—wasn't there an assistant for that?

He was Head Captain of all of ANBU—he called the shots; arranged missions, pass or fail potential members. He was called to do the scariest missions— paperwork should not be added to his list of duties.

"Tou-san, come down already." An irked male voice, that Sasuke wasn't used to, came drifting into the room, pulling Sasuke away from his list of possible assistants that could file his top secret files. Dark eyes looked away from his window, his body followed; soon he was staring at the identical black eyes his son had—and they looked irritated.

Oh boy.

"You said ten more minutes—it's been thirty." His son complained again. Daisuke in a manner that just told the world that he was Uchiha Sasuke's son strode to his father's paper-littered desk and eyed him seriously.

"I want to go home." His day had been tiring. All he wanted to do was go home—but no. His father had to keep him waiting.

Sasuke rolled his eyes at his boy's bluntness. "You and I both, kid. But suck it up, I'll be down when I'm done." Annoying brat—who did he think he was? Bossing him around like that.

"Tou-san." Sasuke glared at the young Uchiha. "Fine, but you're running laps tomorrow for sassing me." He grumbled lowly, getting up, his papers clutched close to his chest, and beginning to put the files back into their proper places in the huge filing drawer that stood against the wall next to his bookshelves.

"Tou-san," his son began again this time, his tone had completely changed into one of thoughtfulness. Daisuke watched his powerful father walk back and forth with folders in his arms and an irritated look on his features.

He wondered whether his question would set Sasuke off.

"What is it, Daisuke?" mumbled the Uchiha patriarch as he scanned the profile once more before pushing it back down and slamming the drawer shut with a swift kick.

Sasuke who'd previously had his back turned, was now looking expectantly at his son. Daisuke swallowed a lump down his throat and steeled himself for the question he was about to ask his father.

"Daisuke, what do you—

With his eyes squeezed shut and his shoulders tensed to the fullest, Daisuke blurted out the question quickly. He figured, make it a quick death. "What if I don't graduate from the Academy early?" he asked nervously, fisting his small hands and not even bothering to open his eyes.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow and let out a small breath of laughter. "Suke, I was twelve when I graduated—I don't expect you to graduate early." He walked up to his son and knelt down so he could look at him properly.

Daisuke felt his father's eyes on him and slowly began to open his big eyes to stare into his father's. He'd heard of all the stories about his Ji-san, Uchiha Itachi, being able to leave the academy after only one year. He'd been teased by a few students about how the Uchiha clan wouldn't be the same—that they'd be nothing compared to the previous generations.

Uchiha Sasuke would be the last of the good ones, they said and it nagged him to no end, exhausting him and keeping him tossing around as he slept—or tried to

. He told his father all every bit of it; every concern and every worry that were all so hidden behind his false smiles.

Sasuke listened intently to what was keeping his son in turmoil.

When Daisuke finished, Sasuke had already formulated his pep-talk, though he wasn't much for sweet encouragement, he'd give his son and himself a break. "Ok," he started off, gently taking his son's balled fists and squeezing them.

Sasuke had a speech in his head, he'd readily prepared it while his son had been talking, he was ready to give his little talk. But somehow all the words had gone haywire in his brain the moment he opened his mouth. But it was his son's face that made him pull it together and push through anyway.

"You have my genes and you have your mother's—how could you possibly think that you'd amount to nothing?" Sasuke felt the words take over; his restraints were slowly being pulled away because he knew, first hand, what it felt like to be in someone's shadow; the struggles it brought and the disappointment that followed. When he was a child, he had no one to lift him up, he only had himself—a seven year old couldn't fathom what he was exactly going through at that very stage in his life. From his point of view, he simply sucked—wasn't good enough— and he carried that with him for so long.

His son would not feel that way. Ever.

"But you were trained by Kakashi, then by sanins—you guys are…are so powerful and have done so much." What else could be accomplished that his parents hadn't already done? He didn't want to be the son that paled to comparison next to his parents.

"You will be a great shinobi in your own right."

"My own right, my ass! Tou-san, you've been saying that for years!" a fifteen year-old cried out, hitting a the floor with a chakra infused fist, damaging the wall a great amount, before pulling back and crossing his arms to his chest.

"My case still remains." said a tired Sasuke, from across the flat rooftop, who was still dressed in battle gear. He'd just gotten home from a mission a few hours ago and was about to turn in an initial report to the Hokage when his wife and children bombarded him with news: Sayako, their youngest, had just finished her time in the Academy—only two years short from Itachi's graduation. He'd graduated at the age of six, while his daughter finished at the age of eight.

Eight years old and out of the Academy, his daughter was a prodigy.

So of course, he family had gone out to town to celebrate, Sakura had dragged the protesting Patriarch away from the Hokage tower and ordered him to have another ANBU officer do it. Seeing as her mind was set, Sasuke called for Hyuuga Neji, who'd co-captained the mission, to give the report in his stead.

They had dinner at a nice restaurant and walked around the night market. The impromptu celebratiton went pretty smoothly—up until Daisuke disappeared, resulting to a minor freak-out from Sakura and a small outburst from Sayako. Sasuke, being, well…Sasuke, had told the girls to enjoy the night while he looked for his escapist son; he had a nagging feeling in his gut that Daisuke was having mixed feelings over his sister's newfound brand as a prodigy.

True enough, after following a trail of destruction which were composed of cracked walls and bruised trees, he found his angsty fifteen-year old sulking by an abandoned building's rooftop.

Sasuke slowly made his way to a trembling Daisuke. "She activated her Sharingan today too." He heard his son mutter quietly. He was happy for his sister—extremely. He couldn't be more proud of her. Who wouldn't be? His sister was a certified genius child who basically put other kids her age to shame by graduating years before the usual time.

She was in the leagues of Uchiha Itachi, Hatake Kakashi, the three sanins. But aside from his joy, there was disappointment—in himself. He wasn't a prodigy.

He was used to 'Oh the gifted, kid?' or 'Damn, this kid is good.' But now, it was: 'Yeah, he's pretty good but have you heard about his sister?' or 'He's talented but his sister…she's a prodigy."

Daisuke always had enough confidence in himself. But slowly, it trickled down. He graduated at the age of twelve which wasn't at all bad. His father graduated at the age of twelve so that wasn't a big deal—but the Sharignan? Sasuke had gotten his at twelve. While, Daisuke… He'd just gotten it last year; two years later than his father and a whopping six years later than his sister; his younger sister.

Another punch aimed at the roof followed by a grunt of frustration when his hand went through the flat concrete roof. "Fuck." He muttered, trying to pull his fist out.

As soon as news spread that the second born of the Uchiha family had outshined her brother, Daisuke had been teased nonstop; he was referred to as the 'error' child—like a tester before the actual good one was produced.

What happened to 'Gifted Kid?' he went from that to: 'Gifted Kid but not a prodigy like his sister.'

Daisuke slumped even lower. He'd ceased the punching and was now just staring off at the dark and star spangled sky.

Sasuke had just about had enough of his older Uchiha sat next to his son and stared out into the horizon. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself." He thought he'd put a lid on this back when he was seven—it was alright to feel like an underdog. Sasuke was one at some point; the younger Uchiha who was gifted but not as gifted his brother. But he strove on, aimed to get stronger—made wrong decisions while he was at it, but eventually he found his path and a place in history, away from the shadow.

A place that was his own.

"Easy for you to say." His son muttered. "You graduated at twelve only because you weren't cooperating." If Sasuke hadn't been uncooperative, he'd probably have gotten out sooner."

At his answer, the older Uchiha couldn't help but scoff. "Yeah—tends to happen when your whole clan was murdered." It was a sarcastic punch but it hit home. Daisuke clamped his mouth shut and looked away, glaring at a black bird that was perched at the building's ledge.

"You just have to strive harder—

"What will that do?!" the teenager ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to soothe his temper—it didn't work. His father's presence fuelled his fiery temper much more; leaving him in a pit of black flames licking and growing with every second his spent trying to reassure him that everything was fine.

Being pushed down by insecure people was normal but he was handling this the wrong way. Daisuke was letting them blind him of his natural gifts.

Sasuke stood and stared down at his son. "You want me to acknowledge that you are weak? Fine. You are. Every bit of skill that we've passed down to you, be it genetically or be training, will be of no use if you let what people think affect you." He knew what he was doing. Sasuke was pissing his son off. Just like how Itachi prodded him and used Sasuke's anger to drive him to get up and surpass him—it was what made him stronger. When he felt like giving up, that anger driven determination would spark up and make him go a forward.

Sometimes it took anger to spark something.

In the end, the Uchiha who'd forever been in his brother's shadow stood before the world as the strongest Uchiha.

"Do you know what I did just to become stronger?" He asked his son who was boiling with anger. "I trained and trained and trained. Sought different teachers, practiced—the methods I used may have been not as morally right, but the thought was there. Look at your mother. You want underdog? Look at your mother."

Heck, Daisuke wasn't even an underdog. The kid was talented. Sakura even questioned being a shinobi; she was gifted but not as much as her two team mates who'd come from a powerful background. But she worked with what she had. Sakura was damn proud to be an underdog that jumped to the top. She'd worked relentlessly and tirelessly at becoming better and for years she would still fall hopelessly short when it came to a quick comparison amongst them. They were ahead of the game, ridiculously powerful. While she was just the intelligent girl with amazing chakra and a caring hear. But she pressed on. And when her time came, she shone—brighter than ever.

She'd reached them. Maybe not as quickly, but she was finally at par. Team seven was now an even playing field.

"Throwing a fit won't get you anywhere—you want to get stronger? Train. Train until you bleed; until you can't get up." Sasuke stared hard at his son.

Later in the evening, while Sayako and Sakura were curled up in bed, Uchiha Sasuke lay awake on his side, listening to the faint sound of kunai and shuriken cutting through wind and embedding themselves into tree trunks.

Daisuke had been at it for an hour.

"More force." He whispered, as he evaluated each hit and coming up with a thousand ways it could be done better. His son was good—better than most, actually. He was in his own right, a great shinobi. What Daisuke had to realize was that, Sayako still had ways to go—comparing himself to her was useless.

Sayako's chakra control wasn't as highly refined as Daisuke's when he was her age.

He had great chakra control, speed, strength and the intelligence to take on a Nara kid. Graduated with the highest rankings during the Chuunin exams and led his team through a fifty-man ambush in a supposedly C-ranked mission. Wasn't this impressive enough? Sure he wasn't a prodigy. But those came only once in a while.

There was prodigy and there was talented. Prodigies go through the process easily because they were graced enough that they were born prodigies. Talented was when had a remarkable skillset, but well you had to work a little harder than the prodigies. But that didn't make you any less of a shinobi. . Sasuke wasn't a prodigy—that was his brother. But he wasn't chopped liver either. He was gifted; and he knew that, he knew that well.

There was only a small difference; prodigies rode the wave easier. While the talented, still had to work a little harder.

People would still kill for the talent that Daisuke had. Not many shinobi were born with that much talent in them.

Daisuke was on his way to becoming Jounin and already, ANBU wanted him. Of course ANBU was entirely a different system, they had their own curriculum. But either way, once he had enough experience as a jounin, Daisuke would make up his own mind about joining the black-ops.

THUD.

THUD.

Sasuke smirked when his ears picked up the familiar sound of fists hitting something solid. Daisuke had abandoned his knives and was now giving Taijutsu a go. He heard every punch, kick and body slam his son aimed at the poor tree. With a quick glance at his wife, he threw his covers off and began to get dressed.

He pulled on a black shirt and a pair of white training shorts, grabbing a pouch of kunai and shuriken and securing them to his upper thigh.

"Sasuke?" muttered sleepily while shifting her weight and lolling her head to the side to get a better view of him. Her husband smirked at her. "I'm going to go make sure he doesn't kill the tree." The rosette nodded and stretched. "Tell him his punches and kicks need more strength"

The dark-haired Uchiha gave her an amused smirk. "I will." Sakura sat up and stared at her hands. "You know he told me that you called him weak…" she started off slowly, twisting the sheets in her hands as she said the words.

Sasuke dropped his hand from the doorknob and cocked his head at her. "And?"

The rosette on the bed let go of the sheets as she straightened her back. She gave Sasuke smirk that he could be a proud of and opened her mouth to speak.

"I said suck it up and get stronger then. That's what I did."

His fist was bleeding; a lot.

The calm night air did nothing for the pain that throbbed all over his atrociously battered fist; his skin to fist ratio was off by a mile, there was barely any skin left on his fist. Daisuke wondered why he didn't feel the pain until he decided to stop and take a sip of water. It was probably the word 'weak' that drove him on.

His father had called him weak—the very thing he did not want to be. People saw him as strong and skilled in battle, but if his father thought he still needed to improve, then, he needed to.

He eyed the bloody tree and glanced back down to his bleeding fist, wincing as the wind blew and icy gust of wind. "Guess, I'll have to heal this myself." He was well-trained in the medic area thanks to his mother. She always stressed the importance of knowing how to patch up injuries despite not being the team's medic.

Daisuke found a huge rock a few feet from the tree he'd been torturing and hooped on, sitting down with this legs crossed as he cradled his wrecked fist. Punching a tree without gloves, that wasn't exactly a good idea, he thought as he angled his hand more to the left to inspect the damage. "Doesn't look too bad." He said to himself quietly. He'd have to heal this well or his mother would find out and slap a pair of gloves across his face to prove their importance.

"For damage like that, I expected this thing to be uprooted." A deep voice cut through the quiet night air. Daisuke stood and wiped off the blood using his towel. "I'm not kaa-san." He barely skimmed the surface of his mom's brute strength—that woman could pound a mountain down if she found the need to.

It was scary.

"You can be. You have the chakra control for it." Sasuke said, pointing to his glowing hand that was over his bleeding one. Healing took great chakra control and immense concentration—the kid had it and the sharingan. That was some serious infrastructure he had going on.

Now if only he'd just acknowledge it.

"You're gifted, Daisuke. Immensely. It's you mentality that's limiting you—you don't need to be a prodigy to be great." The fifteen year old 'Sasuke clone' stared at his father thoughtfully. "You really think so?"

Sasuke answered by pointing that the dents he'd made on the tree with a casual flick of his index finger. "Yes." He saw his son smile and puff his chest up a little bit like he used to do when he was younger. Daisuke stared at his handiwork, the pain that engulfed his hand, forgotten temporarily as his eyes took in the deformity that was once a strong tree. "Some serious damage, huh?" he asked, a little pride lacing his voice.

The older Uchiha couldn't help but smile a little at his son's returning confidence.

"You could do better." Sasuke half expected him to throw another fit of rage and maybe even mutter a few expletives. But instead, Daisuke smirked and gave Sasuke a look that told the older Uchiha the challenge was on.

"I know I can. Give me a month, I'll be putting holes through them in no time." Sasuke was relieved that Daisuke was sounding like himself again.

"I want them uprooted." Daisuke was beginning to get that look of pride again. His shoulders were stretched and his head was held way higher compared to earlier. There was the Daisuke he knew; the kid who knew he was bio-engineered to be the best of the best of the best.

"Done. Oh, and Tou-san?"

Sasuke lifted a brow, addressing his son. "Don't call me weak ever again." His voice held a tenor that would make other people cower in fear—but Sasuke, yeah, he wasn't like other people.

"I'll stop when you aren't." There was a silent message between father and son. Suddenly the air had changed between; it was not filled with challenge and determination. "I wasn't a prodigy. But I surpassed my sanin mentor, Hatake Kakashi, though he still puts up one hell of a fight, and, in a way, my brother. Everyone knows me as the strongest Uchiha—I made history. But I wasn't a prodigy." Sakura and Naruto weren't prodigies. They saw what they had and worked with it.

The younger Uchiha smiled. "To think you were only talented." He joked lightly, giving his father a sly look that was returned with a shrug. "That and I had great teachers." With that, the dark-haired Uchiha Patriarch crossed his well-toned arms and gave Daisuke a steely look. "Now go give me twently laps around the compound, then we'll practice your chakra control."

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sorry for typos.

It's a little short but, I've got too many exams and things to do. Hello, student life. Go College.