The Hidden Leaf.
Twenty years.
That's how long it's been since I last stood on this soil. The village has changed—sleeker buildings, digital scroll panels, security drones overhead—but underneath it all, I can still feel the bones of the old Konoha.
To them, I am just a stranger. Another traveler with a worn cloak and a suppressed chakra signature.
But this was once my home.
Before the massacre.
Before I ran.
Before I woke up here.
I wasn't born in this world.
Back then, I was someone else—just a guy in another world who happened to be a fan of Naruto. Not obsessed. Just… familiar. Enough to remember the names, the clans, the tragedy of the Uchiha.
When I woke up in Ren's body—fifteen years old, standing on the training grounds of the Uchiha compound—I thought it was a dream. Or maybe a coma fantasy.
It wasn't.
This world was real. The chakra was real. The Uchiha pride, the tension in the air, the whispers of rebellion… all painfully real.
I had no cheat. No overpowered gift. No godly healing factor or reality-bending dojutsu.
Just Ren's body.
And a gut-deep fear of what was coming.
I didn't try to change the timeline.
What could I do? I was fifteen, barely a genin, and surrounded by paranoid, prideful clansmen on the verge of civil war. Even if I screamed that a massacre was coming, who would listen? Fugaku? Itachi?
No.
So I chose survival.
When a long-term reconnaissance mission was offered—six months patrolling the northern border, away from the village—I took it without hesitation. I never looked back.
A year later, the Uchiha were dead.
And I was the only one left.
The grief didn't hit all at once.
It crept in slowly, like fog. I traveled, hid, starved. Lived like an animal. Every Uchiha technique I remembered from the series felt beyond my reach. I wasn't special. I had no idea how to even mold chakra properly.
I wanted to quit.
That's when it activated.
"Initializing: Konoha's Uchiha System..."
The voice was cold. Digital. Clear as a bell in my skull.
Uchiha bloodline confirmed.Extinction-level threat detected.Emergency Protocol: Konoha's Uchiha System engaged.Full archive of Uchiha clan techniques unlocked.Personalized training simulations loading...
It wasn't a power boost. It didn't fight for me. It didn't heal me.
It taught me.
Over the next twenty years, I trained like a man possessed.
The system drilled Uchiha history into me. Forced me through endless simulations. Sparring matches against legends—Madara, Izuna, Shisui. I lost. Over and over again.
Then I lost a little less.
Then I started winning.
I learned every Uchiha ninjutsu—from the basic Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu to the devastating Gōka Mekkyaku.Every genjutsu, down to obscure illusions once banned by the Second Hokage.I mastered Uchiha taijutsu, their interception-style that turned enemy chakra against them.I studied kenjutsu stances developed during the Warring States Era.I branded ancient sealing jutsu onto scrolls I carved with my own hands.
I awakened the Sharingan when I watched a small village burn and couldn't stop it.The Mangekyō came after I buried a child who died protecting me from rogue-nin.The Eternal Mangekyō followed—not through stealing eyes, but by completing every mental and emotional trial the system threw at me, pushing my will beyond human limits.
And then, one day, the voice said:
Uchiha Legacy Complete.Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan stabilized.All techniques mastered.Konoha's Uchiha System: shutting down...
Just like that, it was over.
Now I'm thirty-five.
And I'm back.
The village didn't notice when I entered. My chakra is sealed so tightly, not even a sensor-type would feel a flicker unless I let them. I passed through crowds, past familiar rooftops, under the gaze of the carved Hokage faces.
Funny. Hashirama, Tobirama, Hiruzen—all of them up there, staring down at a village that betrayed its own.
The Academy gates are swarming with kids today. Parents. Teachers.
Tomorrow's the entrance ceremony for the next generation.
I spot Boruto Uzumaki almost immediately—blonde, brash, cocky. Then Shikadai, Inojin. And Sarada.
When I see her, I stop.
Sarada Uchiha.
She carries herself well. Sharp eyes. Firm posture. A little too eager to prove herself—but still… there's pride in her. Our pride.
She's proof the blood didn't die completely.
I pass by the old Uchiha district. Or what's left of it.
Cracked stone. Overgrown weeds. Collapsed roofs.
No memorial.
No sign that a clan once lived here.
Only ghosts.
And I'm one of them.
Tomorrow, the kids start their path.
But I've already walked mine.
I won't interfere. Not yet. I'll watch. I'll listen.
And if the time comes when this village needs an Uchiha who didn't die for ideals—or bend for forgiveness—but survived in silence?
Then they'll remember my name.
Ren Uchiha.
The one who chose to live.
4o