The world of Naruto is a world of bloodline limits (kekkei genkai).
Or more precisely—
A world ruled by the three great dōjutsu.
With just one pair of those eyes, it was as if one had opened the gateway to the supreme power of this world. Under their gaze, everything could be reduced to ashes.
The deep-rooted impressions from his previous life made Shimizu both envious and resentful of those eyes. When he had first transmigrated, hadn't he longed to be born into that so-called cursed clan?
But reality was cruel.
He was merely an ordinary ninja. He possessed no bloodline limit.
And in this lifetime, he would never obtain such power.
Over the past twenty years, he had personally experienced the terror of those eyes.
The Byakugan—
He had witnessed experts of the Hyūga clan. Their astonishing perception, nearly 360-degree vision without blind spots, always allowed them to anticipate the enemy and strategize with precision. His former teammate, Gray Hawk—a Hyūga elite—could accurately detect enemies 1.5 kilometers away. No conventional sensory ninjutsu could compare.
The Sharingan—
During the Second Great Ninja War, a powerful Uchiha had once felled dozens of enemies instantly with genjutsu alone. The memory was unforgettable. And just moments ago, Sawie's three-tomoe Sharingan had merely glanced at him and already disrupted his chakra flow.
How domineering that illusion power was.
And the Rinnegan…
Memories surged forth.
After more than twenty years, recollections flooded back like a tidal wave.
"Heh… so it's the Rinnegan…"
Shimizu retreated rapidly while immediately shifting his gaze to the boy's hands and feet—an old tactic Sawie had once taught him for countering the Sharingan.
Never look directly into those cursed demonic eyes.
In an instant, a vast surge of chakra exploded outward from the boy. The water prison shattered immediately, and the dark red–haired youth descended lightly onto the vast ocean formed moments ago.
The A-rank technique created by the Second Hokage had been effortlessly nullified.
Shimizu was not surprised.
He kept his eyes fixed on the boy's limbs.
In his memory…
His name was Nagato.
The wielder of the Rinnegan.
The moment he realized he was facing the Rinnegan, Shimizu had considered turning and fleeing—avoiding the edge of this world's pinnacle power.
But if he ran this time—
Could he run next time?
A ninja who feared battle would lose the courage to advance and would never improve again.
How could he shrink back so easily?
Besides, his intuition told him—
This Nagato before him had not yet fully grown.
Even with that immense chakra, he might not necessarily defeat him.
And right now, they were fighting in a water-dominated environment.
Why not fight for his own fate?
What nonsense about "knowing the plot is the greatest advantage," about "avoid changing the original storyline," about "relying on the plot to survive"—
To hell with all of it.
This was a living, breathing world.
To view it through the lens of some preordained "plot" would be the greatest foolishness.
In this world, knowing the storyline would not guarantee a longer life. Building good relationships with so-called protagonists would not ensure prosperity.
They were real people.
With their own wills.
Their own thoughts.
Sometimes, all it took was the flap of a butterfly's wings to completely reshape history.
From the moment Shimizu Uzuki began to grow in this world, it had already ceased to be the world he once believed it was.
This was a brand-new world.
In that case—
Stay.
To fight.
"Impressive," Nagato said. His voice no longer carried the immaturity from before. It now brimmed with pressure—aged, distant, as though gazing down upon all living beings.
"I didn't expect you to recognize these eyes."
"You know what they represent… and yet you do not flee."
"You are a qualified ninja."
Where was the foolish boy from just moments ago?
Thinking back to just now—he had actually dared to mock this terrifying monster.
Ignorance truly bred fearlessness.
Shimizu couldn't help but laugh.
"What are you laughing at?" Nagato asked, puzzled.
"Nothing. I just think you're a bit stupid," Shimizu replied, still smiling.
"Why?"
"Stupid is stupid. That's why there are so many 'whys,'" Shimizu sneered.
"You recognize these eyes… Since earlier, you haven't looked at them directly even once. You're afraid. You're trying to relieve pressure by venting your emotions," Nagato analyzed after a brief moment of thought.
Afraid?
Of course he was afraid.
Those eyes were called the Rinnegan—the pinnacle of power in this world.
He, Shimizu Uzuki, was merely a jonin—one of countless ordinary shinobi. Why would fate hand him such a "jackpot"? Why toy with him like this?
This was Nagato.
The one who would end Hanzo of the Salamander.
And Hanzo—the man hailed as a demigod. In the Second Great Ninja War, he embodied what it meant for a single individual to stand as an army.
Yet even a demigod had fallen to this frail-looking boy.
Was that irony?
No.
Because his opponent bore those ominous ripple-patterned eyes—
The Rinnegan.
Just moments ago, Nagato's chakra reserves had felt no more than that of a genin.
Now, after awakening those eyes, what Shimizu sensed was a vast, surging chakra—far beyond that of an elite jonin—radiant like a blazing fire in the night.
This was Kage-level chakra.
No wonder Hanzo feared them so deeply.
Nagato stood before him with a slightly immature face, yet the pressure he exuded was like that of a beast locking onto its prey.
"I have a few questions," Shimizu said, withdrawing his smile.
"Go ahead," Nagato replied politely.
"You want to pursue peace without relying on extreme force. On what basis?"
"Yahiko is an outstanding leader. Under his guidance, we'll carve out a future in this world. We share the same dream…" Nagato's voice grew impassioned when speaking of their ideals.
"Are you sure it's not because of your Rinnegan?" Shimizu countered.
"I have never coerced anyone into joining us with extreme force!" Nagato shot back.
"Innocent… Fine, let me put it another way. What if Yahiko dies?"
"Yahiko is strong! It won't be that easy to kill him." Nagato had absolute faith in his companion.
"What if? Have you never considered it? In the ninja world, death is commonplace."
"…He won't die. The three of us will witness true peace in this world."
"Inspiring. Passionate. Confident," Shimizu said evenly. "Have you ever considered that someone you cherish—or someone who once showed you kindness—might become an obstacle on your path forward?"
"What do you mean? You adults always speak in riddles. I'm not as clever as Yahiko. I don't understand what you're getting at," Nagato frowned.
Fine. Then let's be direct.
"What if Jiraiya becomes your stumbling block?"
"That's impossible! Jiraiya-sensei longs for peace just like we do—"
"No. It's different," Shimizu said softly, recalling what he knew of Jiraiya's tragic life. "Completely different. So one day, you'll raise your blade against Jiraiya too. Won't you?"
"Why do you keep bringing up Jiraiya-sensei?"
"See? Even you don't know what you'd do if your ideals one day conflicted with his."
In the original story—
When Nagato raised his blade against Jiraiya, did he hesitate?
Naruto was, overall, a youthful and passionate tale. For Shimizu, those memories from his previous life had grown distant and blurred. He couldn't recall every detail.
But the emotions it once stirred in him—family, friendship, love—remained unforgettable.
And Jiraiya…
When he first learned of Jiraiya's death, watching his body sink slowly into that forgotten lake, Shimizu hadn't been able to stop his tears.
A man who rose from a dead-last student to one of the Legendary Sannin.
Jiraiya's life had been lonely.
He had no family to begin with. Over decades of being a shinobi, all his bonds gradually disappeared—his students, his teacher, his comrades…
Perhaps he wandered the world for so long because he could not bear to face what he had lost.
Yet he never gave up.
He fulfilled everything required of a great ninja.
He relinquished power. He relinquished love.
He protected Tsunade and the village.
He carried out the prophecy.
Even at the end of his life, he upheld his justice with a man's sense of responsibility.
How many people can face their fate calmly—and refuse to surrender, even in death?
Nagato—
With what kind of heart would you one day end that great man's life?
There are things one does—and things one must never do.
If one could raise a blade against their own teacher…
Then extinguishing such a fallen soul early might be mercy.
A spark ignited in Shimizu's chest, burning hotter and hotter.
Kill Nagato.
"Sorry. You're not that Nagato yet," Shimizu said before Nagato could answer. His tone held no trace of apology as it grew colder and colder.
"So naturally, you don't yet have the strength to kill Jiraiya."
"In that case…"
"What exactly are you implying?" Nagato's voice turned icy. This Konoha ANBU had been obsessively hypothesizing a future where Jiraiya's ideals clashed with theirs, as if it were inevitable. "As for Jiraiya-sensei, I—"
"Shut up."
Shimizu activated Instant Water, appearing behind Nagato in an instant.
In a voice colder than frost, he pronounced judgment:
"Go to hell."