"Hiro, please, wake up! Hiro!"
Hiro rubbed his throbbing temples, the world spinning as high-pitched, frantic voices pierced through his migraine. He squinted, trying to piece together how he had ended up here.
The last thing he remembered... he was walking home from a tutoring session. A blinding flash of headlights. The screech of tires. A truck.
"So... I've actually crossed over?" Hiro muttered to himself.
He looked at the young boy weeping by his bedside and the reality of the situation began to settle in. As someone who had spent far too many late nights devouring web novels, he recognized the trope instantly. He offered the child a weak, reassuring pat on the shoulder and gestured for him to give him a moment of peace. He needed to think.
Slowly, the floodgates of another man's life opened, and memories that weren't his own began to surface.
"This is... the Hidden Leaf Village? The world of Naruto?"
In this life, his name was Hiro Uchiha. He was eighteen years old, a renowned Jonin of the Uchiha clan, and a master of the three-tomoe Sharingan. Among the ninja of his generation, he was a titan; even Fugaku, the son of the current clan head, struggled to keep pace with his progress.
His lineage was prestigious, though it had waned in recent years. His grandfather was none other than Kagami Uchiha, the legendary shinobi who served as a personal guardian to the Second Hokage. Hiro's emergence as a prodigy was seen by many as the spark that would restore his family's glory.
That meant the sobbing boy who had just left the room was Shisui Uchiha—Hiro's younger brother.
Hiro looked toward the door where the future "Shisui of the Body Flicker" had just disappeared. This was the boy who would one day possess the Kotoamatsukami, the ultimate ocular power to rewrite a person's very will. He would become the bridge between the Uchiha and the village, a martyr for a peace that never quite arrived. But right now, Shisui was just a terrified six-year-old watching his only brother slip away.
The year was the 38th year of Konoha.
The Second Great Ninja War was in its early, brutal stages. The legends hadn't been forged yet. The Sannin hadn't yet earned their titles against Hanzo of the Salamander, and the Third Raikage was still very much alive. Even the "White Fang," Sakumo Hatake, had only recently struck the blow that would change history: killing the son and daughter-in-law of Lady Chiyo. That single act had turned the conflict with the Sand Village into a generational blood feud.
And then there was Danzo.
A fresh wave of memory, tinged with bitterness, surged through Hiro's mind. The reason the original Hiro had died—leaving a vacuum for a soul from another world to fill—was entirely due to Danzo Shimura.
During the war, Hiro's prowess as an Elite Jonin made him a primary asset. Uchiha shinobi were versatile, deadly, and indispensable on the front lines. Ordinarily, Hiro's skill set would ensure his survival in almost any skirmish.
But Danzo had other plans.
The old warhawk had orchestrated a mission that was nothing short of a death sentence. He dispatched Hiro and three other Uchiha Jonin on a "high-priority" assassination: their target was Bunpuku, the Jinchuriki of the One-Tails.
Bunpuku was an elderly monk who had been a vessel for the Shukaku since childhood. Though he spent his life behind bars, he was a rarity—a man who had earned the respect of the beast within him. He was effectively a perfect Jinchuriki, possessing power that rivaled a Kage.
Sending an eighteen-year-old, no matter how gifted, against a Jinchuriki was a calculated execution. The Uchiha Clan Head, Tenjima, had seen through the trap and flatly refused the mission. But Danzo knew exactly which buttons to press. He played on the legendary Uchiha pride, suggesting that the "mighty" clan was simply too terrified to face a frail, dying monk.
Stung by the insult to his bloodline, the original Hiro had snapped. He ignored his leader's orders, gathered three of his closest comrades, and set out to prove Danzo wrong.
The result was a bloodbath. While Bunpuku was not a cruel man, he would not stand by and be slaughtered. Of the four-man squad, only Hiro had managed to crawl back to the village, his body broken and his friends dead.
"What an arrogant fool," Hiro whispered, rubbing his chest where the phantom pains of the battle still lingered.
The original Hiro's strength was undeniable. He had been on the cusp of reaching that elite Kage-level threshold. If he had faced anyone else, he might have won. He had even managed to severely wound Bunpuku, taking the One-Tails out of the war for the foreseeable future.
But the physical wounds weren't what killed him. It was the poison of a rumor.
Upon his return, whispers began to circulate through the Leaf's alleyways. The story went that Hiro Uchiha was actually powerful enough to kill the Jinchuriki, but he had spared him, secretly defecting to the Sand Village in a treasonous pact.
Hiro scoffed. The idea that he could solo a Tailed Beast at eighteen was absurd, yet the village swallowed the lie whole. Ostracized by his clan for his disobedience and branded a traitor by the villagers, the original Hiro had died from the sheer weight of the disgrace and the agony of his untreated injuries.
"The 'Great Scapegoat' really went all out for this one," Hiro thought, a cold smile touching his lips. "He cleared the stage so perfectly for me. I suppose I should thank him."
He stared at his hands, feeling the potent energy humming beneath his skin, far more refined and dangerous than any physical strength he had known in his previous life.
"I'll pay you back, Danzo. When the time comes to settle the score, I'll make sure it's quick. That's the least I can do for the man who gave me a second chance at life."
TN: Shisui will be few years older in this timeline