The hum of classroom chatter filled the air as Nathan Fujimura tapped his fingers against his desk, barely paying attention to the teacher's words.
The name Madara Uchiha felt foreign now, almost distant. Ten years in this world had dulled as much as he could recall of his past life's memories, but they never truly disappeared. They were always there—whispers in the back of his mind, guiding him like an unseen shadow.
'How Far I Have Fallen'.
"…Nathan? Nathan Fujimura!"
His head snapped up, dark eyes meeting the teacher's expectant gaze. A few of his classmates giggled at his lack of attention. Nevertheless, none dared to speak further.
The teacher—Mr. Bennett—sighed, rubbing his temple. Not out of frustration, but resignation.
Nathan's mind wandered all the time, but no one dared to call him out on it anymore.
Not after the last time.
Months ago, when the new school year started, another student had questioned why a nine-year-old was sitting in a class full of twelve to fourteen-year-olds.
The teacher had tried to diffuse the situation with patience, but Nathan had simply stood up, taken over the lesson, and solved equations and explained theories in ways that had the entire class—including the teacher—staring in stunned silence.
Ever since then, no one asked questions. Not the teachers, not the students, and certainly not the faculty who had already bent the rules several times to accommodate him.
So, Mr. Bennett didn't reprimand him this time either. He just shook his head and continued the lesson.
Nathan—Madara—exhaled through his nose, fighting the reflex to roll his eyes.
It wasn't that he didn't care about school, It was just that this world's education system was painfully slow. The knowledge he had retained from his past life made everything here feel like child's play, and in a way, it was.
He knew why he was still here, though.
His mother.
Ever since his rebirth, he had history of staggering cognitive development.
First steps at six months. First coherent use of words at eight months. Able to hold a basic conversation with an adult after a year and a half. Possessing the mental discipline to start receiving literacy training at age three.
By five, he's well and truly blown all expectations out of the water and cemented a reputation as a gifted child in this dreaded city. There was so much talk of early schooling and academic opportunities to help nurture such prodigious talent.
Four years later, he was close to graduating from Middle school.
His past teachers had pushed for him to move even higher, calling lower-grade material a waste of his time. Some had whispered about college entrance exams before he even hit double digits.
But his mother?
"No son of mine is skipping his childhood just to become some emotionless genius with a degree at fifteen. You're going to school like a normal kid, and that's final!"
And once she made up her mind, even the principal had backed down.
It was why she had insisted on forcing socialization on him.
"You need friends, Nathan. You can't spend your whole life alone."
That was her reasoning for the forced playdates with the Crock family's daughters next door—Artemis and Jade.
Jade had been dismissive, sizing him up like a potential opponent. He had ignored her in return.
Artemis had been friendlier, though she had stopped trying to talk to him after it became painfully clear that he had no idea how to interact with kids his age.
And that was the problem.
Academically, he was off the charts. But socially?
A catastrophe.
Nathan knew he was bad at socializing.
His classmates were mostly older than him, but that didn't make much of a difference. He didn't talk to them, didn't engage in their conversations, didn't react when they invited him to things. It was like they didn't exist in his world, and after a while, they stopped trying.
Even the teachers had given up on trying to pair him up for class projects.
He was fine with that. He didn't need anyone.
But his mother didn't see it that way.
"Hey buddy. I know this is hard but You're too young to act like an old man."
Takahashi Fujimura didn't get it. Neither did his wife, Martha.
Neither could understand how difficult it was to pretend to be something he wasn't.
How unnatural it was to lower himself to their level, to play along.
So, eventually, he stopped trying.
Still, he had learned to fake it well enough.
He could memorize textbooks, analyze theories, and outthink adults, but the concept of small talk with children his physical age was completely beyond him.
Because while he was Nathan Fujimura, a half American, half Japanese nine year old kid. Deep down, his true name was Madara Uchiha, the man who became the Third Ten Tails Jinchuriki.
He turned his gaze to the window, watching Gotham's gray skyline stretch into the distance. He had lived here for ten years—ten years of normalcy, of warmth, of family. His mother would scold him if he came home early for not having friends. His father would shake his head with that knowing smirk, ruffling his already short, neatly-trimmed hair. A far cry from the long, flowing locks he once had. His mother had made sure of that.
"No son of mine is walking around looking like a feudal warlord."
He had given up arguing after the third time she dragged him to the barbershop. 'Hashirama ... I wonder what you would think If you saw what I've become.'
He thought, his gaze distant.
And what would he think of This new world Madara now find myself in?
Towering cities, ruled not by hidden villages but by faceless bureaucracies.
This world was different from his, by far. One a land of Shinobi Villages, vying for power and control among each other.
The other, a new system that had already fought Two wars, kept together from crumbling by a series of Political Factors, alongside Two more external influences.
Nuclear Missiles.
An ultimate weapon of each Nation, similar to a tailed beast possessed by The Five Major Ninja villages, except Manufacturable, and brought great harm to the land after use. It was the last detail that made these weapons of Deterrence capable of achieving what Hashirama couldn't with the Tailed beasts.
Peace. Not peace in the truest sense of It, but at least better than before. This would remain so as long as the second External Influence existed.
Not a weapon, or a Nation, but a Man. Rather, an alien as referred to by people of this Universe.
A creature From beyond this world, possessing the features of a human but displaying power Far above what they could ever achieve. His name? Superman.
Tring!!!!
The sound of the Class bell rang, signalling the end of the day. Madara or Nathan was drawn out of his thoughts as the students around him began packing their books with no delay.
"Alright, class dismissed ..." The teacher said as students began filing out.
"Hmm, too Much energy..." The boy muttered under his breath before he too mimicked their actions.
Youth was a good Thing.
Nevertheless, Madara could never put himself in the same Category as his classmates despite being the same age physically.
It had brought him face to face with New problems he hadn't experienced before. Problems he never felt he could experience. Family. Leaving the institutional building, he began Trotting the streets towards home that was Gotham. In the Nine years of his rebirth, he had studied this world's history and learned many things.
The Concept Of Chaka existed here, but not as a real, Metaphysical energy capable of being harnessed but as a lie told by Charlatans to commit Fraud or deceive the masses.
Humans here were generally powerless, save for a select Few he had researched about. Beings Like The Man Of Steel from the neighbouring city did exist.
Flash, Wonder woman, Green Lantern, The Man of Mars. However, Even their presence failed to completely eliminate Conflict that was ever present in humanity. His City Gotham was a prime example.
Even without powers. Even in a world with stricter rules to prevent people From causing said conflict, human beings seemed endlessly capable of causing Nothing but suffering and hatred. Crime ran rampant. Greed, lust, and corruption festered beneath the surface.
War was no longer waged by soldiers but by shadows. Political maneuvering. Intelligence agencies. Proxy conflicts in far-off lands. Madara had seen it all. The Lies, the Hypocrisy, the scheming,
The more he studied this world, the more he understood.
This was not peace.
Just a different kind of war. And yet, the Man turned Child no longer cared. As contrary to his past in the Ninja world, Madara had learned that human conflict could never really be erased.
He had tried himself, done everything he could in an attempt to achieve what he felt was the only way to True peace.
Project Tsuki No Me.
Only to be told everything he worked for was a lie for someone's reincarnation in his dying moments. Black Zetsu had played him well, and Madara was man enough to admit it.
Nevertheless he had learned. Humanity certainly couldn't be trusted to achieve true peace on their own. As Man would continuously battle until only one soul was left alive.
The battles would never stop as long as a reason to do battle existed, and immersing the entire world in an Illusion to live the rest of their lives was not the answer.
Even if it could work, there would always be those who would refuse to have someone else's will imposed on them, and would fight to the bitter end.
Like Naruto Uzumaki, and his last clansman after Obito, Sasuke Uchiha. He had been unable to accomplish that goal in his last life while at the peak of his power. Much less now when he has lost the will to Try again.
As while this world couldn't achieve true Peace, it had accomplished his and Hashirama's goal. A world where Children didn't have to go to War, at least on the surface.
Now, he would learn from Hashirama. To carve a place for himself, and those he currently held dear to him. No more lies, no more Schemes, No more Fighting.
If the world couldn't achieve peace, them he would achieve it for himself. Perhaps this was Hashirama's True intention underneath his Naive, Loving exterior was.
He chuckled at the thought. How Funny. He had always lost to Hashirama, and now it seemed he lost again in a clash of ideals
But life was inherently cruel, and things hardly ever went as planned.
A world without war still had conflict. A world with heroes still had villains. A world with laws still had suffering.
Perhaps it was due to his failure in the Shinobi world, or perhaps it was the past Nine years of warmth that had softened him up. Maybe it was the school, homework, and home-cooked meals. Maybe he was just tired of living another life full of deception. But he had forgotten that Life always awakened people in the rudest ways possible.
And as he approached his home, he saw his mother at the door, collecting the mail.
Just as a man walked past. Just as a black car rounded the corner.
Just as a missile launcher poked out of the window.
Nathan's heart seized. His mother, standing there, flipping through the mail. She turned, noticing him, a bright smile instantly illumination her face.
But he couldn't appreciate it at the moment. The trajectory. The inevitable impact. It was aimed at someone else, but she was right there.
He tried to move. Tried to shout. But time had abandoned him.
Then—
BOOM.
The explosion tore through the street. The heat slammed into his body, knocking him back, the force rattling his bones. A sharp, high-pitched ring drowned out all other sounds. His vision blurred, dark spots dancing across his eyes.
He pushed himself up. Staggered forward.
The house—his home—was gone. Fire raged where it once stood, black smoke curling into the Gotham sky.
His breath hitched. His throat burned.
"Mom…?"
No answer.
He took another step. His legs nearly gave out. His mind screamed at him to understand, to react, but all he could do was stare.
Flames engulfed his home.
His mother.
His father inside.
Everything.
It all happened in an instant. The Car drove away, but he still stood there, stunned to the core. The explosion caused a ruckus. People around panicked.
And in that moment—standing there as ash rained from the sky— A trembling hand clenched into a fist. His nails dug into his palm, drawing blood. His heartbeat roared in his ears, louder than the screams around him.
The young Madara Uchiha was once again reminded how cruel the world could be.
Even worse, something that had been dulled by warmth and love over the years awakened again. This time burning stronger than ever before.
For there and then, as he stood on the chaotic street, his eyes turned red. Not from crying, but an emotional energy so Intense.
And as it mixed with his eyes, a spark was spread. A crimson glow where sorrow and fury wed.
From that day on, through anguish and scorn,
A legend awakened—The Mangekyō was born.