Chapter 1: Shimura Danzo
Renji strolled down the street, phone in hand, scrolling through the comment section of the latest Jujutsu Kaisen episode. The heated arguments over Mahito, the sadistic cursed spirit, never failed to entertain him. Reading fans' unfiltered opinions was his guilty pleasure, a way to unwind and laugh at the chaos of clashing viewpoints.
"Die, Mahito, you piece of trash! Pure evil!"
"Who wrote this garbage character? Makes me wanna puke every time I see him!"
"Haha! Mahito's so f*cking awesome! I love a true villain who kills without needing a reason!"
"Not a single likable thing about him. I hate how he made Yuuji cry!"
Renji smirked, shaking his head. The polarized takes were gold. Some loathed Mahito's cruelty; others adored his unapologetic villainy. Renji, cosplaying as the stitched-up cursed spirit for a convention, leaned toward the latter camp. There was something thrilling about a character so free of morals, so gleefully chaotic.
A deafening horn blared, snapping him out of his thoughts. His head whipped up. A massive truck barreled toward him, its headlights blinding.
"No! Wait, hold on!"
He braced for impact, heart pounding—but the crash never came. No pain, no blood, no screech of tires. Instead, Renji's body simply… vanished from the street.
"Huh? Where'd that guy go?" a bystander stammered, rubbing his eyes.
"You joking? There was no one there!" another snapped.
"Man, too much overtime. I'm seeing things," the first muttered.
"What'll we do at 65 if we're hallucinating now?"
"Hah, I'll probably keel over at my desk before then. Tell my boss to pick up my corpse."
"Quit whining. Let's move."
...
Renji's consciousness floated in a vast, suffocating black mist. His body felt weightless, adrift in an endless void. Faint voices pierced the fog, distant yet sharp.
"Is he waking up?"
"Quick, inform Lord Danzo!"
Lord Danzo?
The name jolted Renji's foggy mind. As a lifelong anime fan, he'd never let the classics fade, no matter how many new shows flooded the scene. Naruto was sacred, and Shimura Danzo was a name etched into his memory—a scheming shadow of Konoha. The mist began to thin, and Renji's vision cleared.
A cat-faced mask loomed over him, attached to a human figure. Not a cosplay prop, but something far too real. The mask tugged at his memory—familiar, yet he couldn't place it.
"Hey, kid," the figure barked, voice rough and impatient. "What's your name?"
Renji's eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings. He was in a dimly lit basement, the air heavy and stale. No hum of traffic, no city buzz—only the faint flicker of primitive candles casting weak, wavering light. His heart sank. This wasn't a convention prank.
He glanced down at himself, and his breath caught. What the hell?!
His legs were short, childlike. His adult frame was gone, replaced by the body of a kid. He grabbed his head, expecting his Mahito cosplay wig, but the hair was real, woven into his scalp. Worse, the fake stitches he'd meticulously glued on for his costume were now tattooed into his skin, stark and permanent.
Dyed hair, tattoos… I'm done for! My parents will kill me!
He looked like Mahito, the cursed spirit he'd been cosplaying. His carefully crafted destiny as a dutiful son who'd ace the civil service exams was crumbling. If he showed up at home like this, his parents—never the warmest to begin with—would probably tag-team him into oblivion.
As panic clawed at him, steady footsteps echoed, accompanied by the rhythmic tap of a cane. Renji's head snapped up. A figure emerged from the shadows, one he recognized instantly.
Shimura Danzo.
No way. A Naruto character ? This has to be some sick convention stunt. I'm suing these maniacs!
They'd probably kidnapped him mid-cosplay, thinking they could mess with him.
"Lord Danzo, the child refuses to speak," the cat-masked figure reported, stepping back respectfully.
Danzo's cold, calculating eyes locked onto Renji. "Useless. Dispose of him."
Dispose?!
[Ding!]
[Human Malice Value +100 detected!]
[Cursed Energy converted to Chakra +100!]
A mechanical, electronic voice echoed in Renji's head, crisp and emotionless. It did nothing to quell the terror surging through him. Danzo's killing intent was palpable, sharp as a blade grazing his skin, raising goosebumps.
Am I… actually in the Naruto world? As Mahito?!
A pair of legs stepped into his field of vision. A dog-masked figure raised a kunai, its edge glinting in the candlelight.
Yamete! Stop!
Renji screamed inside, heart racing. "My name's Renji… Mahito!"
The name Mahito slipped out, almost against his will. The dog mask froze, kunai still raised, awaiting Danzo's next order. Renji's mind spun. Why Mahito? Is that my name now? Was my real name even Renji?
It didn't sound bad, at least.
"Not a mute," Danzo said, his tone flat as stone. He stepped closer, looming over Renji. "Renji Mahito. How old are you?"
Renji's mind blanked. Mentally, he was forever eighteen—prime anime fan age. Physically? He had no clue what this kid's body was.
"I… don't know," he admitted, shaking his head. Afraid Danzo might snap again, he added quickly, "I forgot! I don't remember anything!"
Amnesia. The oldest trick in the book, but it worked in every anime.
Danzo's gaze bored into him, unyielding, like a predator sizing up prey. The cat mask spoke up, voice cautious. "Lord Danzo, he might've hit his head in a fall."
Nice one, cat mask. Covering for me.
Danzo nodded, as if the explanation was sufficient. "Twelve. You are twelve years old. And my son."
Son?!
Renji barely stopped himself from yelling. Danzo, you old schemer! What's your game?
The cat mask caught on fast. "Yes, Lord Danzo's son. You injured your brain during training."
At least make your story add up! Renji thought, exasperated. If I'm his son, wouldn't he know my name and age? Do you think I'm an idiot?
But he had no choice. Playing dumb was his only shot at survival. He put on his best dazed expression, mumbling, "Is that so…?"
"It is," Danzo declared, his tone final. Without another word, he turned and left, cane tapping against the stone floor.
That's it? No fatherly pep talk? No explanation? Renji fumed inwardly. This guy's treating me like a stray dog he found on the street!
The cat and dog masks stared at him, their confusion almost matching his own. Three faces locked in a silent, mutual what the hell moment.
"It's fine if you forgot," the cat mask said, voice softening slightly. "We'll teach you everything from now on."
Brainwashing. Fantastic.
"First, resume training," the cat mask continued. "I'm Owl. This is Nightjar. We'll oversee your progress."
Training? More like a death sentence if I'm useless.
Renji's heart sank. Why couldn't he have been found by someone like Tsunade or Jiraiya? Why Danzo? ROOT wasn't exactly known for handing out free meals. Refusal meant death, plain and simple.
But that voice in his head… System?
"System! Status!" he thought, desperation creeping in. No response. Dead silence. He felt like an idiot shouting into a void.
Recalling the voice's words—Human Malice Value, Cursed Energy, Chakra—Renji pieced it together. Mahito was a Special Grade cursed spirit, born from humanity's hatred and fear. His power, Idle Transfiguration, let him reshape souls. In this world, where chakra ruled, his cursed energy was converting into chakra.
Thump!
Renji hit the floor, yanked off the crude wooden bed by Owl.
This is child abuse! he wanted to scream, but he bit his tongue.
"Get up. Training starts now," Owl said, her dark eyes glinting through the mask's slits, cold and sharp like a kunai's edge.
Renji stood, brushing off his clothes out of habit. His Mahito cosplay outfit—now his actual body—felt strangely resilient. The fall hadn't hurt, not even a little. Is this Mahito's cursed spirit physique?
Owl and Nightjar led him to an underground training ground, shrouded in darkness. The air was heavy, the space unmistakably ROOT's domain—a haven for those who thrived in shadows.
They didn't hold back. Renji, who'd dodged every 500-meter run in school and never thrown a punch in his life, became their punching bag. Fists and kicks came fast and hard, relentless.
These two aren't human!
Pain seared through him, sharp and overwhelming. He was terrified of pain, always had been. But then, something shifted. A strange power stirred within him, warm and electric. The masks' movements slowed, as if in slow motion, while Renji's body grew faster, more precise. He dodged, weaving through their attacks with an ease that felt alien.
I'm… adapting? Mahito's abilities are kicking in!
An hour later, Renji wasn't just dodging—he was fighting back. His body absorbed their taijutsu like a sponge, mimicking their moves with terrifying speed. Owl and Nightjar exchanged stunned glances, their coordination faltering.
"Stop!" Owl called, her voice sharp.
Renji froze, heart pounding, a rush of exhilaration coursing through him. His body and mind were in perfect sync, every movement fluid, every command from his brain executed flawlessly. The bruises and aches from earlier? Gone, as if they'd never existed.
Owl's gaze lingered on him, complex and unreadable through her mask. "He's a genius," she murmured to Nightjar, then vanished into a dark passageway to report to Danzo.
Renji shot a glare after her. Tattletale.
Nightjar tossed him a heavy pouch of shuriken and kunai. "Weapon training. Watch."
He flung shuriken, each one hitting the bullseye of targets ten meters away. The sound of metal slicing air echoed—swish, swish, swish.
Renji, who'd never touched a weapon in his life, watched Nightjar's movements replay in his mind, as if on a loop. He picked up a shuriken, holding it awkwardly between two fingers.
Here goes nothing.
He threw it. The shuriken flew, replacing Nightjar's in the bullseye.
Renji blinked, dumbfounded. No way.
Nightjar demonstrated a kunai next. Renji mimicked him, and the kunai hit dead center.
Mahito's learning speed is unreal!
He glanced back. Danzo stood in the shadows, watching silently. He'd seen everything.
Renji's stomach twisted. Here comes the scheming.
Danzo beckoned him over. Renji approached, wary, knowing this old fox was up to no good.
"Show me your tongue," Danzo ordered in a low, commanding tone.
Pervert! Renji thought, heart racing.
[Ding!]
[Human Malice Value +50 detected!]
[Cursed Energy converted to Chakra +50!]
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