1. Weep

Konohagakure no Sato

Year 65 (After Founding)​

The dark clouds were a mimic to the heavy gloom and sadness that enveloped the village, as final rites and somber words were spoken for those who had met their end. Sniffles of sorrow from grief-stricken loved ones could be heard, and soft cries filled the air from those who hadn't been able to settle their grief during the week that followed Kurama's rampage.

Many had fallen as was evident of the tombs erected, and their end would be felt in days to come…this was especially so for the fourth who had given his life in pure Konoha fashion, as his end would invite the probing of those villages who didn't truly view our splendid Leaf in fondness…

Perhaps if the wounds of the Third Great Ninja War weren't so new. Perhaps if the Fourth didn't turn himself into a deterrent.

…yet for all the recent suffering, the spirits of the citizens of the Leaf never wavered. Reinvigorated and emboldened by the touching words of the Third, the corp was sure to see its numbers replenished in times beyond tomorrow.

This was, after all, the perfect opportunity to evoke the Will of Fire within the citizens…and give them reason to sacrifice their lives for a better future, and a more prosperous generation.

But the future was ever unreachable — quite the insidious philosophy this Will of Fire, but I guessed we all sought need to feel worth in our existence.

…

Ah, greater love, indeed.

The ceremony didn't last in its duration, over in less than an hour as work was to be done for the village to return it back to adequate functionality.

I lingered, my brown eyes affixed to the tombs of my parents with borrowed sorrow. I shed no tears today, but I suffered a sad induced headache a week back when the news were delivered to me.

['Taka Kimura'] and ['Shino Imai']

I knew little of them…not directly at least, the memories of the child I now possessed were the only proxy to their identities and the life before my come about in this world.

I knew it, of course; this world I meant. It was Naruto…one would need to be an isolated tribal to not know of it, but I didn't just know it, I had been obsessed with it in my teens, and kept touch with it for nostalgia's sake.

But this was fiction meets reality so the phantasmal aspects of it were a bit dull, overshadowed by realism, and all its unsavoury effects.

I wasn't a pawn in a game of gods— I had long relinquished myself of the notion of being some sort of self-insert who could guide events of the future, become an absolute power and spearhead the conflicts to come. And while I held sympathy for the residents of this village, my empathy for them was nonexistent.

Shackled I would not be, and while still important, I refused to rely on the events of canon with absolute faith.

It was a pessimistic view, but I had long been awakened to the cruelties of optimism.

I mean Iwagakure fuckin' despised us with a passion in this reality…we had shown and written instructions for any Land of Fire merchants with hair that seemed a bit yellow, cautioning them to Iwa's countless missing-nin.

A sigh breached my lips.

With my young body, I took a knee and placed the flowers I had brought to the graves of this life's spawners. The consultation with my memory showed them to be good, if a little ambitious. Yet their influence and wealth meant I would want for nothing…and not fear being snatched by Danzō or the snake.

With the meagre advantage I had been granted in this rebirth, my lack of caution— as far as magic ninjas were concerned— would no doubt invite attention.

The uncomfortable feel of Kurama's corruptive chakra still seeped from their buried bodies, futilely trying to corrode the ambient before being smothered by its vastness. I judged only I could perceive it at this level…through an ability I had yet to put a name on.

It affected all of my senses, making me incredibly sensitive to the metaphysical energy…but with the sensory came the boosted manipulation, granting me the ability to recover my reserves quicker and deplete them rapidly.

The latter practice had seen an increase in my reserve and subsequent density by a factor of 5% within my first week.

A significant growth, especially considering that I was civilian in heritage and the first shinobi within both my bloodlines. The study I had conducted showed that those of such a beginning were destined the rank of genin, and if exceptional, chunin. Because of course ninja genetics mattered.

Still, I would not be an absolute anomaly…merely a curiosity.

The only downside to the increase in reserves was the pain of chakra exhaustion, though it did last an hour in my case.

I placed a mixture of lilies and hydrangeas on my father's grave, and a batch of chrysanthemums on my mother's.

"I will see that part of your dreams are realised should fate not favour you as it did me." My voice was low and light, unstrangled by puberty as my body was still that of a six-year old. I moved it well though, with the preparation of ninja-hood this body had been subjected to there was little effort required to achieve this grace.

Still, I would need much more practice and dedication if I were to achieve peak grace: ninja edition.

Words spoken, I stood once more and brushed the debris that had caught to my kimono and made to leave.

The academy opened within a week, and I would see my preparations done as I was sure there would be an influx.

…..

The streets were cold and miserable, especially as one drew closer towards the ruined slums. Dimly lit alleys carried a heavy stench of decay and poverty. Crumbling buildings surrounded malnourished people and children whose hollow gazes revealed their yearning for a life beyond their means.

I walked through the suffering, unguarded in my gait. I knew that nothing of harm would before me in the vigil of daytime…as normals would never match ninja in their search for truth, especially one that involved crime.

Punishment was harsh for crime, twice more if the perpetrator was of useless origin.

It was the part the series didn't show, the misery behind the carefree outlook. I wasn't surprised, not really. Konoha wasn't a paradise, but a ninja village, where a person's value depended on the significance they brought, be it through crops, weaponry, literature, or other contributions. The shinobi clans controlled most of the resources, extending their reach beyond the village with outposts and retainers.

Becoming a noble clan required more than just dōjutsu or hiden abilities, lest one turned to banditry and raiding. Contracts needed to be made, promises secured, and alliances formed for protection and prosperity.

The shinobi villages were a way to grant safety in numbers and have easy assistance in case of emergencies.

It was a feudal society, and lives weren't equal, how could they be, in a world where superiority was so visible.

My metaphysical senses scanned over their forms, searching for the fundamental essence that made this reality truly fantastical. I wasn't surprised by what I found. They were as civilian as civilian could be, possessing only the faintest traces of chakra, enough to satisfy the requirements for Ninshū, I surmised.

Leave it to an optimist to screw an entire species… Hagaromo truly knew little of humanity despite being half-human. Sin ran deep in our veins, and benevolence was a chore to maintain.

These people…

I shook my head as I directed attention to the shinobi who were remoulding the earth with their advanced, yet unrefined, jutsu. My sensory ability allowed me greater insight into Nature Transformation, yet it was like having a house plan without the knowledge of brick laying.

I was taught hand seals and their importance in channeling and regulating chakra to manifest a desired jutsu into realism. But preparation was still foreign to me, something that I was to be taught at the academy.

These were the things I wanted learned and mastered before becoming genin.

Chakra Manipulation in all its entirety.

At present, I could stick a leaf to my head for a minute before running out of chakra. I needed to be able to move it at will and do so with little effort. The same was true for tree walking and stick-exercising. Control would make so jutsu demanded little chakra in their use while providing excellent effectiveness.

Shaping or Moulding was the easiest part thanks to my ability. Even now, I could feel the augmentation on my limbs, senses, mind and muscles. Though I couldn't push my augmentations to their fullest due to my tiny reserves, I was still capable of the feat with surprising ease.

Moulding also allowed me to produce chakra faster, along with transforming chakra to nature chakra quicker (no wonder a lot of people preferred Ninpō, far less steps).

Taijutsu Style that favoured efficiency over strength, it should also pair well with my Ninjutsu, though not be dependent on it. I wasn't above using ninja tools and poisons…or genjutsu I wondered if I needed to acquire a sharingan in the future.

I would need to master throwing weapons and trajectory prediction. As for weapon mastery, I would aim for adequate proficiency.

Find a way to acquire a fully awakened sharingan, compatible sharingan. Priority!

Jutsu Refinement and Accumulation, all jutsu should be refined to their utmost mastery. Perfect chakra control would reduce the need for hand seals. But understanding could make one as dangerous with a simple jutsu as Shunshin no Shisui.

Henge no Jutsu could be used as Chimera and add flexibility and versatility to simple jutsu, Madara's Tengai Shinsei was a use of three different hand seals weaved simultaneously to produce one single jutsu via his pseudo Chimera Susanoo.

This meant that I could achieve some level of enhanced jutsu production, or pseudo kekkei genkai if I managed the chimera technique…that's in theory of course.

Still, a lot of these things would require research and experimentation. But I was patient in my want for greatness…and as I looked more at the unfortunates that littered this part of the village, I felt a resolve of something form in my heart.

Their lack of power and potential meant they were excluded and discriminated against, but even then, the village was still safer than the outside, were nuke-nin, bandits, monsters and wild animals roamed free.

Slavery wasn't illegal in this world… and so were many other things unless you were a citizen or a noble.

These were the people Orochimaru should have experimented on, not Konoha citizens, not war potentials, not clan members.

My extreme view on this was mainly because I fell under the potentially experimented, and I was still weak.

It wasn't the nature of the experiment that troubled Hiruzen, but the callous disregard for Konoha's future and the essence of the Will of Fire. The true strength of the village lies in protecting and nurturing its citizens, not exploiting or sacrificing them for personal gain or power.

Of course, I was far removed from that sacrificial ideology, this second chance at life I'd use to see my wants and desires fulfilled. I wasn't saviour, but also not heartless.

I was home before long, greeted by the empty echo of a house that was once filled with life. The supplies I had bought I placed in my room before initiating my training.

Totsu Kimura would be a name feared more, and a legend on par with those few greats.