Konoha.
A village hidden between towering trees that reached the skies.
A village born from the hands of two legends—the Gods of Shinobi themselves—Hashirama Senju and Uchiha Madara.
The streets bustled with life. Vendors called out to customers, children laughed, and the air was filled with the fragrance of fresh food. But away from the lively heart of the village, in a forgotten corner, stood a run-down apartment.
Inside, a boy lay on a creaking bed. His frame was frail, bones sharp beneath his skin—clear signs of malnutrition.
His eyes snapped open.
Sweat poured instantly as he clutched his head, groaning, "Agh…" The pain was blinding, as though his skull was about to split apart. Then, just as suddenly as it came, the pain faded.
The boy opened his eyes fully.
"…Huh."
He glanced around. The bed smelled foul, as though something had died on it. Beside him sat a desk so unstable it looked ready to collapse at the slightest touch. Sunlight filtered in through a cracked window, carrying with it the cool breath of morning air.
Slowly, he pushed himself up.
Creak.
The floor complained under his weight as he limped forward. Through the doorway, he spotted a small kitchen. The stove was rusted, dishes stacked high in the sink, and a strange black liquid spread across the floor like a stain that refused to fade.
When his gaze drifted back to the desk, he froze.
A photograph.
In it, a younger version of himself sat perched on the shoulders of a man, while a woman stood behind them, giggling warmly. Bold letters at the bottom read: Ryu.
Memories crashed over him.
---
"Ryu!" A woman's voice, bright and loving.
A boy with a goofy grin stepped forward.
"Wait here! Your dad is sleeping… how about we prank him?"
The boy nodded eagerly.
His mother—Kaori—gently shook a man lying on the futon. "Itsuki! Wake up!"
"Shhh… Kaori, let me sleep," Itsuki groaned, half-burying his head in the pillow.
"No chance! Even Ryu is here!"
Itsuki's eyes opened, guilt flickering in them as he glanced at his son.
---
The memory shifted.
A monstrous fox towered over the village, its roar shaking the heavens. Ryu's legs trembled uncontrollably. He had already wet himself.
His mother lay before him, crushed under rubble, her body drenched in blood.
The ground shook. A massive hand grabbed Ryu and flung him aside.
"Ryu! Run!" Itsuki's voice roared as the building collapsed over him. Both parents disappeared beneath the debris.
---
"Haah! Haah!"
Ryu clutched his chest, gasping for air as tears blurred his vision.
Then it happened.
His eyes burned red, shifting into a single swirling tomoe.
Startled, he stumbled to a mirror—only to see the crimson glow vanish. He rubbed his eyes. A trick of the mind? No… ghosts were common in this cursed place.
His hand fell to the cabinet. Pulling it open, he froze once again.
A box.
Inside—stacks of cash.
"...One thousand ryō," he thought, lips trembling. But when he tried to speak, no words came. Panic surged. He clawed at his throat, pressing against his vocal cords.
Then—
A voice. Deep, commanding.
"What are you doing, brat?"
Ryu spun around.
The room dissolved into darkness. A void.
Two Mangekyō Sharingan spun wildly in the abyss.
A suffocating purple chakra poured into his body. He coughed blood, collapsing as a small glowing sphere spilled from his mouth.
"Now, my descendant… look forward."
He obeyed—and froze in disbelief.
A figure sat before him, cloaked in shadow. The man whose name was etched in every tale of the shinobi world. The one who built Konoha… and nearly destroyed it.
Uchiha Madara.
His Sharingan glowed like twin suns, brighter than the void around them.
"You can speak now. I've healed your vocal cords."
Ryu's throat trembled. His first sound in years escaped like a growl:
"…Howla."
The world shifted. Madara now sat casually on the filthy bed, as though he had been there all along.
"From today onward, you'll follow my guidance."
He rose, commanding with a flick of his hand.
"First, leave this place. And for heaven's sake, don't touch this bed again."
Ryu scrambled for water, gulping it down desperately, words breaking from his raw throat.
"...Y-yes…"
"Slowly," Madara corrected.
With a ripple of chakra, Madara's form shifted—his features becoming identical to Ryu's own. He strode to the cabinet, pulled out a wad of cash, and smirked.
"With this much, you can survive until you become a ninja."
Before Ryu could react, Madara was gone.
Ryu sat frozen. He wasn't from this world. He was a soul from the modern era—reborn in the body of Ryu. Madara's sudden appearance shook him to his core.
He was just...he came here just a second ago and yet, madara appeared and started taking care of him! Anyone would be in disbelief!
Moments later, Madara returned, as if nothing had happened. He packed the meager belongings with military precision and motioned for Ryu to follow.
They moved through the village, into a quiet neighborhood. A new house stood waiting. Madara pulled out a key and unlocked it.
Inside was everything the boy's old home lacked—polished floors, white walls, a clean kitchen, even a garden.
Madara set the bags down, turning with his piercing gaze.
"You. Can you cook?"
Ryu nodded quickly.
"Then make dinner."
Without hesitation, the boy darted into the kitchen.
That was the day his life changed.
The day Madara Uchiha claimed him.