As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, I ventured deeper into the forest. The towering trees swayed gently, their dense canopy casting restless, shifting shadows. This place, far from the village, was isolated and tranquil—untouched by the chaos of daily life.
The kunais embedded in tree trunks hinted at the area's past as a training ground. A weathered target dummy stood nearby, resembling a disc used in archery. Unlike arrows, only kunais and shurikens protruded from it. Clearly, someone else had been here.
I pulled a kunai free and inspected it. The clearing was deserted, so I assumed it was fine to use this place.
Kneeling in the center, I unfurled the explosive tags I'd procured earlier. They were crude compared to what I envisioned with sealing arts, but they held a strange allure. Tracing the patterns with my finger, I studied the chakra flow embedded within, akin to a physical form of magic circles or hand-casting rituals condensed into paper.
This simplicity inspired me. Drawing from my knowledge of nature energy—or magicules as it's known in the cardinal world—I designed my first enhanced explosive tag. Using the volatile radiation of magicules as the energy source, it mimicked nuclear fission. The result was terrifying: a tool of mass destruction folded into a slip of paper.
To mitigate its danger, I added a failsafe that deactivated the seal after five seconds. Even so, the elder would roast me alive if he discovered this experiment, so I decided to shelve it.
Next, I turned to storage seals. Traditional storage scrolls were cumbersome, so I streamlined the chakra programming, minimizing redundancies and condensing pathways. The result was a seal small enough to fit on paper. Practical, yet flawed.
Testing the kunai I'd found earlier, I painstakingly infused it with chakra to create an engraved storage seal. After hours of effort, a faint symbol emerged at its tip—a mark formed by programming residue.
When the symbol glowed, it unexpectedly absorbed the explosive tag nearby. A defect, it seemed—it could only store small objects and lacked control. Sighing, I deactivated the seal, making a mental note to revisit the design.
Then, I sensed them—two presences moving closer. Using magic perception, their forms pinged back to me like echoes. One older, steady and deliberate. The other younger, brimming with restless energy. No, it was actually three.
The first figure emerged: a tall man with jet-black hair tied in a loose ponytail. His dark attire and high collar marked him as a ninja. His sharp eyes scanned the clearing with precision.
The second, a boy, shared the same black hair, though his was spiky and unkempt. He wore a short-sleeved blue shirt with a red-and-white fan on the back—an Uchiha emblem. His shorts and sandals hinted at a beginner in training.
It was unmistakable: Itachi Uchiha and his younger brother, Sasuke. Their faces, their mannerisms—they matched my memories from the Naruto manga.
As for the third—
"What brings you here?" Itachi asked, his voice calm, devoid of hostility. Itachi's eyes settled on me, neutral but discerning. Sasuke stared openly, curiosity shining in his young features.
I stayed quiet, studying them as the thought communication translated his musings: "He's not answering... Observing? Wary, perhaps?"
"I suppose this is your spot," I finally said, tossing the kunai I held back to the target dummy where I'd found it. It wasn't useful anyway.
Sasuke tilted his head, scrutinizing me with exaggerated focus.
Thought Communication Translation: "Is he showing off? Throwing a kunai straight like that? Even I can do that."
The older Uchiha however, had different thoughts. Itachi's gaze narrowed, his sharp eyes tracking the trajectory of the kunai. I could see the calculations forming behind his steady expression as he pieced together the subtle anomaly.
"That kunai..." His words faltered, trailing off as his attention shifted. First, he studied the kunai where it had landed, then my wrist, and finally my face, his scrutiny piercing and deliberate.
"What's your name?" he asked at last, though the unfinished sentence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken realization.
Thought Communication Translation: "That kunai... it definitely curved mid-flight..."
Huh, he caught on. I wasn't exactly skilled at throwing shurikens, so I'd used a bit of magic to guide them. As expected of Uchiha Itachi—his perception was razor-sharp. Still, that was risky.
"Yuuki," I answered. "My name is Yuuki" Finally I offered him a greeting smile. Anyone who saw that can see it clearly, it was just a business smile, well that, a long with the fake name I gave him. Though I wasn't technically lying either.
His sharp gaze flicked to my left eye. For a moment, curiosity broke through his neutral expression. "A Hyūga?" he asked, noting the faint veins of my inactive Byakugan and the green markings on my forehead, partially hidden by my hair.
"...Yes"
"Then Yuuki Hyuga-kun, is it?"
Thought Communication Translation: "How strange... he's not even trying to hide those marks. The Hyugas I've met weren't like this. And that form... it was interesting. There was nothing special about the way he threw, just an ordinary throw. Why did it curved?"
He regarded me with quiet curiosity, though his focus seemed divided. Part of it was on the caged bird seal I was so blatantly displaying, but mostly, I could sense the intrigue in how I'd managed to hit the target with such an ordinary technique.
Sasuke blinked, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at me, as if I had suddenly sprouted wings. "Nii-san, aren't you going to train?"
Itachi's tone softened, yet there was a quiet authority in it, his smile never faltering. "Sasuke, it looks like I'll train next time. You can watch me then."
Sasuke's expression fell, a drawn-out "Eeeeh~" escaping him as his disappointment was clear.
"I'll leave if I'm intruding," I said, my voice neutral. As thrilling as meeting my favorite character was, lingering here too long could lead to complications.
He raised his hand towards me in a pardoning manner.
"No need. Feel free to train here. It's good to see someone working hard. Also, You'll be enrolling in the academy this year, won't you?"
Thought Communication Translation: "If he is, then he would meet Sasuke occasionally."
"...No."
A few days ago, I had nodded along when Hiashi urged me to train and prepare for the academy, and I had said all those things to Neji. But the truth was, Neji's advice to run away had made so much sense. Just because I felt like I'd been reincarnated into the Naruto world, didn't mean it was actually real.
If this was merely a simulation within Rimuru-san's stomach, then the war should still be ongoing. Perhaps that explained why I could use magic in the first place. Rather, a world of fiction come to life before my eyes, that was simply unbelievable.
"Hn, that's a bit... well, what about next year?" I asked, my gaze flickering to him. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, like he was waiting for something from me.
I hesitated for a moment, then exhaled, letting out a lie with a soft breath. "Sure, maybe."
Itachi's expression softened, his smile gentle as he nodded. "Then perhaps you and Sasuke will become friends after all."
Sasuke, ever the skeptic, shot a glance at Itachi. "But he'd be a year late, wouldn't he?"
Itachi's gaze remained unwavering, calm. "Regardless, it's important to have friends and comrades who will be there for you."
Sasuke grumbled under his breath, his eyes flicking between us. "Nii-san is the strongest. He doesn't need anyone to look after him."
Itachi's response was a simple, quiet gesture—his hand raised, and with a small, almost imperceptible thud, his finger lightly poked Sasuke's forehead. The infamous poke, as if it were a silent reassurance, a small moment that seemed to speak volumes.
I stood up, bowing slightly in acknowledgment. "Thank you for letting me stay. But I'll be leaving now."
I took a step away, feeling the tension dissolve as I made my excuse to leave. But before I could take a third step, I collided with someone. The impact was solid but not unpleasant. Looking up, I found myself staring at another figure. This one was taller and older, with a playful grin that radiated confidence.
It was that, the third presence that were picked up by me magic perception that I said before.
"Oh hey there, not so fast, yeah? That was cool, you know? How did you make it fly curved like that?" he asked, his tone lighthearted, his words flowing with an easy rhythm. His grin widened as he tilted his head, waiting for my response.
I stared at him for a moment. The man before me—messy, spiked black hair, a headband slightly askew, and sharp, watchful eyes that carried both amusement and intensity—was Uchiha Shisui. He wore a dark outfit, standard for the Uchiha clan, but there was an energy about him, as if he could spring into action at any moment. His constant smile, though charming, made him seem all the more unpredictable.
That's right, this is Shisui Uchiha, one of Itachi's character development, why am I meeting so many people today?
I was so caught up in my observations that his voice brought me back to reality. "Hey, you there? I'm asking you some questions, you know?" He leaned in slightly, waving a hand in front of my face.
"It was just a small trick," I replied, my tone deliberately flat. I had no intention of explaining myself, nor letting anyone know how I managed the throw.
Shisui's grin grew mischievous. "A trick, huh? Pretty pleeeaaase, tell me more?" His tone shifted into an exaggerated plea, his hands clasped as if begging.
"No."
"Oh, come on! Don't leave me hanging here. It was awesome, and I'm not saying that lightly," he added, his voice still annoyingly cheerful.
"No,"
Shisui sighed dramatically, as if my refusal had physically wounded him. "You're killing me here. Just one tiny hint? Just one?"
"No."
Itachi, who had been watching quietly, finally interjected. "Shisui, stop. It seems like Yuuki isn't comfortable."
Shisui spun around to face him, mock outrage painted across his features. "You stop talking! I was trying to convert him!"
The words lingered in the air for a moment before I echoed, "Convert?" What the hell is this guy talking about? My thought communication couldn't even translate his words—well, no, it did translates it perfectly, and their meaning aligned with his intent. It was as if he'd just made it up on the spot without any hidden motives.
Itachi tilted his head, his stoic demeanor barely cracking. "Convert him into what, exactly?"
Shisui folded his arms, his expression irked but still playful. "Obviously, I wanted a little minion who follows me wherever I go, just like yours."
Silence.
"Minion?" came the collective response from everyone, myself included. But my gaze instinctively shifted to Sasuke, While remembering those words, "That follows Itachi everywhere he goes"
Then is he talking about... Ah, him.
Sasuke finally connected the dots. "MINION?!" he yelled, his face flushing red with anger.
Shisui burst into laughter, doubling over as Sasuke ran at him, ready to retaliate.
As the Uchihas became engrossed in their antics, I seized the opportunity to slip away. My steps were light, my presence quickly masked, and I moved with practiced ease. Once I was certain I was far enough, I allowed myself to relax and review my thoughts.
.
.
.
On my way home, I allowed my mind to wander, focusing on the progress I'd made with seals. The intricacies of their design had started to make more sense. Even the cursed seal—my own personal burden—seemed less daunting now.
If a Hyuga from the main family activates the cursed seal, it doesn't fully rely on their own chakra. In my case, the seal primarily used my chakra to rupture the blood vessels near my eyes. Without blood flow, the affected tissues become necrotic, effectively destroying the Byakugan. The process also irritates nearby vessels, causing pain and severe headaches.
That's how it works. I could remove the seal, but that would defeat the purpose of studying sealing techniques. Besides, the main family only activates the seal—the rest is handled by my own chakra, which it manipulates to kill me.
So, as long as I maintain perfect control over my chakra, I'll be fine. And let's be real, this is coming form someone who wielded Veldanava's power through eons of time loops. Mastering chakra control? That's child's play.
Lost in thought, I barely noticed where my feet were taking me until I found myself in front of a small, familiar ramen stall. The sun was already setting, casting the place in a warm, golden glow. Ichiraku Ramen.
"Huh, so this is what it looks like in real life," I muttered. The nostalgia of seeing the iconic stall brought a faint smile to my lips. Pushing aside the curtain, I stepped inside, half-expecting to see a certain blond protagonist making a mess. Instead, the stall was empty save for Teuchi, the legendary ramen chef.
"Welcome!" Teuchi greeted warmly, his ever-present smile adding to the homely atmosphere.
"Two please, and make it a take out."
I took a seat, observing him as he prepared it. This is him, the guy which internet netizens made all those memes about him possessing a Mangekyō Sharingan beneath those perpetually closed eyes were hard to forget.
.
.
.
To be continued