Spring lingered on, and the sunlight was pleasantly warm.
In the Uchiha clan compound—near Konoha's commercial district—inside the small courtyard that belonged to Uchiha Fugaku.
Back then, the Uchiha hadn't yet been suspected by the high-ups led by Danzō after the Nine-Tails Night, and they certainly hadn't been forced to relocate to Konoha's outskirts.
As usual, Roy split off a clone to go to the Ninja Academy and handle school, while he himself lay flat on the veranda of the courtyard. A soft blanket was spread beneath him; his head rested on Itachi's knees as the boy gently massaged his temples. A water basin tipped, trickling like a small stream to water the flowerbed beside them…
With his right hand, Roy pinched a strand of spring breeze. His fingers twitched, scattering tiny points of light as he spent a sliver of aura—using "reverse conjuration" to pull out the crumpled sheet Ging had given him, Divine Script, and continued reading.
Itachi knelt quietly, serving as his brother's pillow. His clear eyes—too mature for a child—rippled with curiosity. It was the first time he'd seen his brother "use Summoning Jutsu."
[Summoning Jutsu]: a form of space–time ninjutsu, a contract-based calling technique. A caster signs a blood contract with a summon animal, forms specific hand seals (Boar → Dog → Rooster → Monkey → Ram), and spends chakra to summon it to the battlefield—like the "legendary trio" and their toads, snakes, and slugs.
There's also non-blood-contract summoning: sealing items or tools into scrolls and calling them out with hand seals—like Tenten's weapon scrolls or Sai's Super Beast Imitation.
From the moment Itachi became aware of the world, he'd watched Roy study all kinds of ninjutsu—openly and in secret—so he recognized the idea of summoning.
But limited by his age and by how this world understood "power," Itachi didn't realize: this wasn't Summoning Jutsu at all. It was reverse conjuration—"nothing cannot be conjured; nothing cannot be reverse-conjured." Its "summoning range" ran far deeper, and far wider, than ordinary summoning.
"Nii-san… what are Divine Scripts?"
The crumpled page was covered in sloppy, densely packed handwriting—very "Ging," careless and rough in a way that oddly suited a Ruins Hunter. Itachi had started learning to read around one year old; by two, he could follow Roy's ninjutsu notes. He managed to pick out the words "Divine Scripts" and leaned closer, reading with Roy.
Roy smiled warmly. "Think of it like a scroll. A scroll that can seal any 'ninjutsu' inside it—then you just pour chakra in and it activates."
"A scroll…?"
"Yeah. It can make a paralyzed person stand and walk. It can let a blind person see. It can make a dog talk like a human. It can call lightning from a clear sky… make snow fall in midsummer… If you can imagine it, it can help someone achieve it."
Itachi froze. "Then… can it help the uncles and older cousins who lost arms or legs grow them back?"
He meant the injured Uchiha who'd just returned from the battlefield. Roy's gaze flicked, remembering how Fugaku had held little Itachi's hand while visiting the wounded.
Roy understood. He smiled. "Why wouldn't it?"
"It's what Father said," Itachi murmured, his voice dimming. "He told me to remember their names and faces. He said… when I go to the battlefield, I have to protect myself. If you lose a hand… you can't form seals anymore. You can't be a ninja."
Hand seals… Roy's thoughts stirred, and Indra's face surfaced in his mind—the Sage of Six Paths' eldest son, the Uchiha progenitor, and the one who created the very concept of "hand seals," letting ordinary people use chakra.
The man was long gone… but chakra lived on, passing through generation after generation of Uchiha.
Maybe it was stubbornness. Maybe it was resentment—because he couldn't surpass his younger brother Asura and inherit Ninshū from their father…
A sigh of spring wind drifted through, lifting the brothers' bangs slightly.
Roy put away Divine Script, letting it dissolve into glimmering motes at his fingertips. Then he sat up and ruffled Itachi's obedient little head with a grin.
"Itachi. The world is huge. Strange things exist everywhere. Even a 'normal' person can grow two extra arms… so why wouldn't regrowing a limb be possible?"
As he spoke, two more arms sprouted from beneath his ribs—Arm Regeneration, the technique he'd learned from the Hand Demon. Four arms spread, half divine and half monstrous. Behind him, above his head, the blazing sun hung in the sky—casting a four-armed shadow that swallowed little Itachi.
Itachi knelt on the wooden veranda, listening to the water trickle like a stream. He stared, mouth slightly open—
—and then Roy pinched his chubby cheek, giving it a gentle squeeze. "So, my foolish Otouto… don't assume something doesn't exist just because you've never seen it."
In the sliding door that led indoors, a figure was faintly reflected.
Fugaku had been at the Police Force all night. Coming off his shift, he saw this and his mouth twitched. What the hell is this brat doing now?
With a shhkk, Fugaku slid the door open and sat down beside them. From inside his robe, he produced a warm oil-paper bundle and opened it—
Three-color dango, Roy and Itachi's favorite.
Brightly colored dumplings made from glutinous rice or potato starch; soft outside, with matcha and syrup inside—sweet and lightly salty. If the filling was generous, it practically burst.
Fugaku handed a skewer to Itachi, then shot Roy a glare. "You've got extra arms. Take your own."
Roy laughed, retracted the extra arms, grabbed a skewer for himself, and popped it in his mouth, chewing with half-lidded eyes.
Only then did Fugaku sigh. "Your uncles… it's a pity. The village will keep up appearances and give some compensation, but if things get worse…"
"I'll write it down," Roy said, chewing, tasting sweet and salty explode across his tongue. "Arm Regeneration… or call it Limb Regeneration, whatever. Father can take it and use it."
Fugaku's throat bobbed. He looked like he wanted to say more—then simply nodded, and sat with Roy and Itachi, eating dango and watching the blue sky, clouds drifting, spring calm and bright.
After a pause, Fugaku said quietly, "Roy… once this technique gets out, the clan won't be able to hide it."
A jutsu that regrows severed limbs… everyone—medics and non-medics alike, veterans and rookies—would understand its value instantly.
Ninjas still relied on hands to form seals and link chakra to jutsu. Even Orochimaru couldn't escape that. After Hiruzen took his arms with the Reaper Death Seal, Orochimaru spent every day yearning to restore them—but a severed soul was severed. A new body didn't fix it.
Roy understood. And he understood that the moment any one-armed or one-legged Uchiha appeared fully restored, Konoha would never miss it.
He finished the skewer and smiled at Fugaku. "An Uchiha life matters. A Konoha life matters too. If it helps the disabled return to the path of being a ninja… even if it's outsiders, I don't mind."
He said it plainly—like the sun itself, warm and unashamed. It reflected in Itachi's eyes.
Itachi's cheeks were puffed full of dango like a squirrel hoarding nuts. He mumbled, "Nii-san…"
Fugaku, caught between them, paused—then patted Roy's shoulder. "Don't worry. We won't give it away for nothing. Anyone who learns it… will owe us. They'll remember this."
There was another line Fugaku didn't say: if the clan and village ever truly turned hostile, that debt would make the upper ranks hesitate. They'd think twice before trying to gut the Uchiha too brutally.
Roy nodded. He lay back down on the blanket, hands behind his head, basking in the sun. The light shifted—Fugaku lay down too, then tugged Itachi into his arms.
After a long moment, Fugaku said, "I got word. The Hokage went to the Academy this morning."
Roy kept his eyes closed. After a pause, he answered quietly, "I saw him."
…
At the Ninja Academy—
An old man and a boy met eyes through clean glass.
The moment Sarutobi Hiruzen appeared outside the classroom—Hokage hat on, ceremonial robe draped over red armor, hands clasped behind his back—chaos erupted.
Today's substitute instructor for ninjutsu was Yoshida Yū, an older chūnin from a civilian background. He was skilled in Fire Release, but tired of battlefield killing and chose to teach instead.
Hearing the commotion, he hurried out and bowed, excited. "Yoshida Yū greets the Hokage-sama!"
"It's the Hokage!" "It's the Hokage-sama!" "No way—am I seeing things? He really looks like the one on Hokage Rock!" "Obviously! The face on the mountain was carved from him!"
As Yoshida bowed, the children abandoned all discipline—pushing desks, scraping chairs, swarming Hiruzen like bees.
In seconds, the classroom was nearly empty.
Only Roy remained in the very back row, bored, chin propped on his hand—calmly meeting Hiruzen's gaze over the sea of heads.
I'm here.
You're here.
You don't look happy.
Should I be?
A wordless exchange flashed between them like faint electricity.
Hiruzen moved. At fifty-something, he was still in his prime—nothing like his later, older self. He wore a kindly smile, like an uncle visiting family.
He looked away first, turning to the children, patting one head, squeezing one cheek—then asked Yoshida, "What are you teaching today?"
Yoshida answered quickly, nervous. "Fire Release."
Then added, "Fire Release: Fireball Jutsu."
It was his best, most presentable jutsu—though only a D-rank technique compared to the C-rank Great Fireball. For Academy students, even producing a small flame was hard.
Hiruzen hummed and nodded. "Fire Release is good. I'm good with Fire Release too. Let's go to the field. I want to see if our young ninjas have improved."
"Yes!" Yoshida's heart pounded. He raised his voice. "All students—line up! You will be inspected by the Hokage-sama!"
"OSS!"
A few kids who believed they'd mastered the Fireball Jutsu bolted ahead toward the training field.
Yoshida moved with the group, then turned and called out, "Uchiha Ren—what are you waiting for?"
Roy's clone—only a fraction of the real Roy's power, but still far from ordinary—stood up and was the last to leave the classroom.
Hiruzen deliberately slowed, walking alongside him.
In a voice meant for only the two of them, he said warmly, "Child… I never thought someone would ever catch me in the act."
"You were the first."
Hiruzen's smile didn't break. The world called the Telescope Technique powerful—Mount Myōboku's old toad, Gamamaru, could watch the world from home through crystal and even find people through a trace of chakra. Hiruzen's version didn't reach that far—only Konoha—but the fact he developed it himself was why they called him the "Professor."
"The Hokage-sama worries too much," Roy replied, calm and unhurried. "It was coincidence."
Hiruzen let out a cheerful chuckle and—surprisingly—didn't pursue the topic. He teased instead, like an elder talking to a nephew.
"Looks like you don't get along with your classmates very well."
Roy narrowed his eyes, smiling just as brightly. "That's where you're wrong. I get a pile of love letters every day."
"Oh?" Hiruzen paused, studying him. Then nodded seriously. "I believe it. If I were your classmate, I'd be jealous too."
"So…" Roy spread his hands. "That's the burden of being handsome."
"Hahaha—!" Hiruzen laughed openly, his voice rising just a little—enough that Yoshida, leading the group, kept glancing back in surprise.
The older chūnin shot Roy a startled look, then stole a glance at Hiruzen.
He quietly carved the moment into memory: The Uchiha boy… can talk with the Hokage-sama.
By ten in the morning, the sun had climbed steadily higher into the sky.
Hiruzen finished laughing and gave Roy's back a gentle pat as they walked. "I always tell your father not to stay so tense. You, on the other hand… you don't act like an Uchiha at all."
The "inherently evil Uchiha" stereotype didn't match this boy's brightness. Hiruzen hadn't expected that.
They walked arm-in-arm like that, and soon the training field came into view…
~~~
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