Brief Introduction:
Transported to the dangerous world of Naruto, our protagonist becomes a member of the prestigious Uchiha clan. Fortunately, the massacre is still years away, and he possesses the strongest talent of all!
•~•
Saitama couldn't help but think his luck was absolutely terrible.
Sure, he'd been reincarnated into Konoha's most illustrious family, bearing that legendary surname that commanded respect throughout the village. Yet every time he returned to his family compound, an overwhelming sense of loneliness washed over him like a cold wave.
The vast Uchiha estate felt more like a mausoleum than a home. In the sprawling courtyard that could easily house dozens, only two souls remained: Saitama himself and the elderly caretaker who looked after him with quiet dedication.
Where was everyone else?
As a transmigrator, Saitama had learned the harsh truth—family was a luxury he couldn't afford. When he'd first opened his eyes in this world, barely three years old, he'd inherited everything from parents who had died far too young. A prime property in Konoha's heart, along with a fortune that would make his previous life's self weep with envy. He'd achieved in death what had eluded him through years of struggle in his former existence.
Now five years old, Saitama listened as his caretaker spoke of the clan's plans to enroll him in the ninja academy. Five was the traditional age to begin one's shinobi education—the age when childhood games gave way to the deadly serious business of becoming a weapon.
After spending the entire day wandering Konoha's bustling streets, Saitama pushed open the heavy black gates of his compound. His small feet dragged with exhaustion, yet he quickened his pace as the familiar sounds and aromas from the kitchen reached him. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables, the sizzle of oil in a hot pan, and the rich scent of miso soup told him his timing was perfect.
Not too early, not too late. I'm such a punctual genius, he thought with a self-satisfied smirk.
As he made his way toward the kitchen, his mind drifted to the interesting encounter from earlier that afternoon. The kid he'd met—what was his name again? Shisui, wasn't it?
•~•
Earlier That Afternoon
Saitama had strutted through the Uchiha district with the confidence of a small emperor, clutching several skewers of colorful dango he'd just purchased from the friendly vendor across the street. The sweet, chewy treats were still warm in his hands as he observed the daily life of his clansmen with detached amusement, occasionally popping a dumpling into his mouth with leisurely satisfaction.
In that moment, with the afternoon sun warming his face and the taste of sweet mitarashi glaze on his tongue, Saitama felt he had truly reached the pinnacle of childhood bliss.
That feeling lasted until he noticed the sneaky little shadow trailing behind him.
"Hey there, kid!" Saitama called out, casually flicking the wooden skewer he'd just finished at the boy lurking in his wake.
"Ow!" The stick struck its target with a satisfying thunk, and Uchiha Shisui stumbled, rubbing his forehead with an indignant expression.
"Why are you following me?" Saitama asked through a mouthful of dango, his words slightly muffled as he savored another bite.
Shisui glanced down at the discarded skewer at his feet, then back at the boy who continued eating as if nothing had happened. His dark eyes darted away nervously.
"This is a public street. Who says I'm following you?"
Oh please, kid. If I hadn't seen you swallow nervously just now, I might have believed that act, Saitama thought with amusement.
"Is that so?" Saitama's voice dripped with mock disappointment. "And here I thought you wanted to be friends. I was actually about to share my dango with you, but I guess I was wrong..."
He turned as if to leave, hiding his grin.
"Wait, really?" The hopeful voice behind him made Saitama's lips twitch with barely suppressed laughter.
Spinning back around, he shoved all the remaining dango into his mouth at once, his cheeks bulging comically as he chewed.
"Yep, really!" he managed to say, his expression mockingly serious as he watched the other boy's face twist through a spectrum of emotions.
Shisui stared in disbelief at the person who had promised to share his treats one second ago, only to devour them all the next. His eye twitched involuntarily.
"You... you..." Shisui seemed to short-circuit, his young mind struggling to process such shameless behavior.
"What's wrong, kid?" Despite the fact that they appeared to be the same age, Saitama—with the mental maturity of his previous life—couldn't help but view Shisui as nothing more than a child. He nonchalantly used the discarded skewer as a toothpick, his posture radiating smug satisfaction.
The very picture of a little troublemaker.
"Didn't you say you'd give me some?" Shisui's voice carried a mixture of confusion and indignation.
"You didn't ask just now," Saitama replied with infuriating logic. "I thought you didn't want any!"
The late afternoon breeze carried the scent of cooking fires and blooming cherry blossoms through the district as the two boys faced off, one smug and satisfied, the other caught between frustration and grudging admiration for such audacious behavior. In the distance, the sounds of daily life in the Uchiha compound continued—children playing, adults conversing, the rhythmic thok of kunai hitting practice targets.
It was a perfect snapshot of peace before the storm that would one day consume this very street, though neither boy could foresee the tragedy that lurked in their future.