Kurogami Household
Kurogami POV
As I let the shower water pour over me, I couldn't help but think about how absurd my father's bloodline might be.
"Three tries. That's all it took for me to use the Fireball Jutsu without hand signs. Jesus, I'm one hundred percent convinced now—my old man isn't human."
Just thinking about how my fireball came out blue with hints of black—and how the flames were hotter than even my mom's—made me realize how ridiculous my potential could become.
"I definitely need to find out more about my father. Maybe Aunt Mikoto can tell me something. Surely she knows at least a little."
After finishing my shower, I dried myself off and changed into a fresh set of clothes back in my room.
"Black shirt, white shorts, and the clan symbol as a necklace. Damn, I look good. Then again, I might need to stay away from Orochimaru—if he sees me looking like this, I might end up in his basement."
I closed the door and headed downstairs toward the entrance of the house. Mom wasn't there yet. I checked my watch—1:00 PM on the dot. So, I waited.
15 Minutes Later
"Ah, of course. No matter which world you're in, women are always fashionably late. I wonder what took her so long—hair or makeup?"
As I pondered the divine mystery of why women take forever to get dressed, I heard Mom's voice.
"Sorry, Kuku! I was doing my hair, but it just wasn't looking right!"
I turned around and saw her in all her glory—bright red shirt, with pants that look like black skinny jeans, black heels, an Uchiha crest necklace, and her long black hair flowing freely.
{Image here}
I gave her a thumbs up. "Looking good, Mom. I'm sure Aunt Mikoto will be asking you for fashion tips."
She smirked. "She better. Between the two of us, I was always the fashionable older sister. She liked dressing like a housewife or in plain clothes when off-duty."
I smirked back. "Well, I've been ready to go for fifteen minutes."
She grabbed my hand and led me toward the door. "Well, Kuro, here's something every man needs to know about women. The later they are, the better they look."
I grinned. "Or they're just old and need more makeup to hide the wrinkles."
She squeezed my hand harder—just enough to hurt—and looked back at me with the kind of stare that promised extra training. "Care to repeat that, my little Kuro?"
I felt a bead of sweat roll down my back. Any normal person would apologize. But I'm not normal nor coward.
"I said the later they are, the older they are—because they need more makeup to cover the wrinkles."
Her face froze. Like she couldn't believe I actually said that again. While she short-circuited, I initiated a tried-and-true survival tactic: puppy dog eyes.
"Mom," I said with a whimper, "you wouldn't hurt me outside of training... would you?"
She looked torn—part of her wanted to slap me in the back of my head, the other wanted to smother me in affection. Luckily, maternal instinct won.
She scooped me up, hugged me tightly, and kissed my cheek. "Ohhh, Kuku! That's not fair! Using that look should be illegal for sweet moms like me!"
Looking up at her, I kept the puppy dog expression and whimpered again. "I can't?"
Her Sharingan activated—she was literally engraving this moment into her memory—and she hugged me tighter, like I was a teddy bear.
"My Kuku is so cute! No matter what, Mikoto's future kids will never be as cute as you!"
Poor Itachi and Sasuke having the handsome older cousin will be there burden. Than again do they even like girls?
After her little meltdown, she set me down and looked me in the eyes.
"Kuku, be careful what you say to women. Some are sensitive about their age. Don't remind them how old they are."
Perfect chance.
"But Mom, how old are you? You look so young, I wouldn't be surprised if people thought you were my older sister!"
She blushed and poked my nose. "You're definitely your father's son. He was quite the sweet-talker too. I'm turning thirty-one next year."
I raised an eyebrow. She looked like she was barely in her twenties. "What's your secret?"
She stood up and took my hand as we walked toward the gate.
"Your father's special medicine that you took yesterday. Unlike others, I don't need a unique transformation jutsu to keep myself young. But don't tell anyone about its... additional effects. Most people just think it's a recovery medicine."
I nodded. "Got it. But... can I tell my future wives?"
She stopped, looked back at me, and narrowed her eyes. "Wives? With an S?"
I put on my most confident look. "Yes. More than one!"
She knelt down. "First of all, you're too young for even one girlfriend—let alone wives! And second, any girl you bring home has to go through me first! No one's taking my little man! Not until I'm dead—and even then, I'll haunt you! I swear the ideas of multiple wives must come from your father side of the family!"
She pouted, opened the gate, and we stepped out.
And for the first time—with all my memories unlocked—I took in the outside world.
The first thought that crossed my mind?
"The Ōtsutsuki clan practices polygamy!?"
Uchiha Compound
A young, buxom woman radiating dragon-like presence strolled through the compound with her son. She ignored the stares and whispers—her son held her hand, his eyes filled with curiosity, though behind them was a soul of a man in his mid-twenties, analyzing everything: public sentiment, business opportunities, and networking potential.
Kurogami POV
It was strange, walking through the Uchiha streets. Everyone looked so... happy. Peaceful. Living their daily lives like this wasn't the prelude to tragedy.
Honestly, it's a shame this will all possibly vanish thanks to a pathetic simp and a child who'll soon redefine the meaning of "ungrateful bastard." Then again, maybe the politics are more complicated than that. But it doesn't matter.
As long as I carry Uchiha blood, I'm either a dead man walking... or a useful dog for the higher-ups to command.
"I'm no one's dog. And I'm definitely not dying for Danzo, Hiruzen, or Itachi's bullshit."
The second I get even a whiff of Itachi planning to massacre the clan, I'm punching him in the balls with a chakra-enhanced strike so hard it'll send him to the moon.
Shaking those thoughts off, I started observing how people were looking at me and my mom. The reactions were... enlightening.
People saw me as cute—a puppy, but some look at me with disgust. I wonder why?. But when they noticed me with my mom? Their expressions shifted to shock. Like seeing a Nara doing jumping jacks and smiling.
Apparently, Mom having a kid was an act against god.
She got plenty of respect—nods of admiration, even reverence—but it was always tinged with fear. Makes sense, considering what I know about her so far.
But then there was the lust.
Some guys looked like they'd simp for her on the spot. Others looked ready to get on their knees and propose. And the creepy ones?
They looked like they wanted to kidnap her and do all kinds of messed-up things with her in their basement.
I mean... I get it. If I weren't her son—and still had my old body—I'd smash too.
She's basically Azula with black eyes and curves that rival or surpass Tsunade. Wearing that outfit? Yeah, I understand.
10 Minutes Later
We reached the outer gate, guarded by two Uchiha clansmen. That meant the sealing barrier was no joke, and those two were strong.
I spotted Aunt Mikoto sitting on a bench nearby.
Mom shouted, "Little Mik!"
Mikoto turned with a deadpan stare, sighed, and stood up.
"Nee-san, how many times have I told you to stop calling me that? We're not kids anymore."
Mom grinned. "You'll always be my little sister."
I watched them bicker and thought, "Poor Mikoto. Growing up with Mom must've been wild."
Mikoto rubbed her forehead, then looked down at me with a smile, ruffling my hair.
"And little Kuro, do you remember your sister Mikoto?"
I bowed. "Yes, I remember, Auntie Mikoto."
Her smile froze. "No, no—call me sister. 'Auntie' makes me feel old! You don't want your beautiful sister to feel old, do you?"
Wanting to play along and get some info, I smiled. "Of course, Sister Mikoto! Honestly, with you and Mom next to me, people will probably think we're siblings."
She practically glowed with happiness and hugged me. "You're so sweet! You definitely didn't inherit your mom's foul mouth."
Opportunity detected.
"Sister Mikoto, how could Mom have a foul mouth? I'm sure it's lovely."
She chuckled, taking it as childish innocence. "Oh, don't be fooled! Your mother used to say the nastiest things during the war. Once, during the Second Great Shinobi War, she insulted the Mist Villag—"
"MIKOTO!"
Mom's glare shut her up instantly.
Mikoto froze like a vet having a Vietnam flashback.
Jesus, Mom... did you traumatize your own sister during training!?
Mikoto placed me down like she was handling a bomb, put on a mechanical smile, and took my hand like a lifeline.
"Oh, dear sister! Forget I said anything! Let's go shopping!"
And just like that, my mom led the way with a smug smile, Mikoto's back sweating despite the mild weather.
Because apparently, the forecast forgot to account for Mom, the Menace of the Leaf Village.
5 Hours Later
There is no god.
There is no heaven.
And there is definitely a hell.
Those three thoughts kept cycling through my head as I suffered in silence, stuck between two beautiful, terrifying women with too much money and too much time.
They had gone shopping like every store had a Black Friday sale. So many clothes. So. Many.
And worst of all?
Half of them were for me.
I couldn't even complain because I kept getting free stuff. But I swear, the number of times I was forced to try on outfits, change out of them, then back into them again… it was psychological warfare.
And it got worse.
You'd think the Sharingan—our clan's proud dojutsu—would be used for battle, defense, or maybe even training.
But no.
Some mad genius decided to use the Sharingan's enhanced perception and memory...
to check outfit fitment.
Yes. Clothing measurements. Precision tailoring.
God help me—either a brilliant woman or an insane man invented that idea.
After what felt like a lifetime, we finally finished our retail warpath. Mom stepped away to use the restroom, and I seized the opportunity.
"Sister Mikoto?"
She turned around with a tired but gentle smile. "Yes, little Kuro?"
I gulped. This might be the only shot I get. "Can you tell me about my dad?"
Her expression shifted. For a second, she looked like a machine short-circuiting before biting her lip. "I'm sorry. My sister—your mom—made me promise not to talk about your father."
I activated Puppy Dog Eyes, Level 3. "Not even a little bit?"
She grimaced like she just stepped on a landmine of cuteness.
"…Okay. I can't say much. All I'll say is that your father was a very wealthy man… and that he saved your mother with some kind of medicine. That's all I can say. Nothing else!"
I sighed. It wasn't much, but it was something. I gave her a hug. "Thank you, Sister Mikoto."
She smiled warmly and hugged me back. "I'm sorry, Kuro. Just trust your mom. She has her reasons."
"Alright."
When Mom returned, she and Mikoto started dividing all the shopping bags and sealing them into scrolls.
"That's really convenient," I muttered.
Mom beamed. "Yeah, the Uzumaki clan were geniuses when it came to sealing jutsu."
Mikoto's face turned somber. "A real shame what happened to them…"
I tilted my head, playing the innocent child. "What happened to the Uzumaki clan?"
Mikoto stayed silent, but Mom… her eyes darkened. She stared at the ground before responding.
"What happens to any clan that lacks true power… and allies willing to fight beside them."
She looked me dead in the eyes, her tone as cold as a blizzard.
"Annihilation."
I swallowed hard and asked the question anyway, needing confirmation—just in case my existence had caused changes.
"There were no survivors?"
Mom let out a long sigh. "Officially, Konoha found one survivor. She lives in the village. She's actually a friend of mine and your aunt's. She's closer to Mikoto's age."
Then Mom kept going.
"But unofficially? There might've been others who escaped. As long as they don't show up in Konoha, it's not our problem. The higher-ups don't care."
She looked me in the eyes again.
"You're smart, Kuro. You've read the books in the study. You understand what I mean… right?"
I stared back at them both and said the truth. The ugly truth that I knew in my past life too.
"Power makes the rules… and decides who lives and who dies."
Mom patted my shoulder, proud. "Exactly. Never forget that, Kuku. In this world, there are only three things you can truly rely on:
Family.
Your ideals.
And your own power.
Everything else?
You can discard it if you must."
With that, she turned and began walking toward the exit of the shopping district.
Mikoto looked at me. "Your mother makes it sound harsh, but she's right. The last war changed a lot of us. I used to doubt her, but… I learned the hard way."
She gently squeezed my hand.
"But remember, Kuro. While power and ideals are important… having someone you can call family can make the world a little brighter. It's the reason your mom's still here with us, instead of wandering off chasing strength."
I looked at her, curious. "It's because you and I are here?"
She smiled. "Yep. You… and your father. Even though he's not around, I think his influence made your mom appreciate life more."
I smiled at the thought.
"Okay, old man. Maybe I won't punch you in the balls anymore. I'll just stab you with a fire-charged kunai instead."
Mikoto led me back to Mom, who stood at the shopping district's entrance—waiting patiently…
…until three familiar faces approached.
Three legendary faces.
One had long white hair and a pervy aura.
The other was pale, snake-like, and unsettling.
The third was curvy, blonde, and already glaring.
The Legendary Sannin.
Before I could say a word, Mom noticed them—and smirked.
"Ohhh, look what we have here."
"A perverted toad, a creepy snake, and a drunk cow—cough, I mean slug."
Tsunade's eyes twitched. "Ohhh, you pyromaniac bitch—!"