As I said before at every 10 membership I will drop bonus chapter. It does not matter if it is free or not.
Once again thankyou all and those who are supporting me on patreon.
Want to read 5+ chapters ahead? Support me on Patreon! And here by donating powerstone
for every 100 power stone I will drop a bonus chapter.
(A/n: After 120 of you take membership of this I will published it for free, Completly)
https://www.patreon.com/c/kapa69
Remember to only take 5$ membership, As I am going to remove all others membership except this from next months.
And In this you will get all the chapter of all my fanfics.
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So, there it was. My grand mission, laid out in ominous red text on a floating blue screen only I could see. Stop the Uchiha Massacre. No big deal. Just prevent a foundational, world-defining event orchestrated by some of the most powerful and manipulative shinobi in history.
"This will be a monumental headache," I murmured into my futon, the word tasting oddly appropriate on my infant tongue. My mind was already running a thousand different scenarios, each one ending in some variation of me becoming a shish kebab on the end of a Root agent's tantō. This wasn't a task for some wild, chaotic protagonist. This was a long, painstaking game of chess, and I was currently a pawn with the mobility of a potato.
But a potato with a plan. And a Sage Body Affinity.
The next four years were a masterclass in disciplined monotony. To the outside world, I was a quiet, perhaps overly serious child. Shisui's odd little brother. Internally, I was a drill sergeant putting my own body and mind through a brutal, invisible boot camp. My perfect memory was my greatest tool. I recalled every word of every basic jutsu theory I overheard from my father and his colleagues, dissecting the principles before I could even properly mold chakra.
My mornings started before dawn. While my family slept, I would be in my room, performing subtle but intense muscle-conditioning exercises. Holding painful positions for hours, building muscle fiber density and endurance. My Sage Body Affinity was a miracle, turning every ounce of effort into tangible results. My body, while still that of a child, was becoming a tightly coiled spring of potential.
(A/N: Think of it as baby yoga, but for future badasses. Downward-facing Dogma of Destruction, anyone? No? Okay, I'll see myself out.)
My days were spent in observation. I was a quiet shadow, my memory capturing everything. The political arguments, the training katas in the clan dojo, the growing bitterness in the eyes of the Uchiha elders. It was all data. It was all ammunition.
Today, I was four years old. Shisui, now a ten-year-old prodigy well on his way to becoming a genin, was sitting with me on the engawa, polishing a handful of kunai. The afternoon sun was warm, the compound was peaceful, and it was the perfect moment to make my first move.
"Nii-san," I said, my voice small and even, breaking the comfortable silence.
"Hmm?" He didn't look up from his work, the rhythmic scrape of whetstone on steel a calming sound.
"I remember the night of the scary fox," I stated simply.
The scraping stopped. He placed the kunai and whetstone down with deliberate care before turning to face me fully. His cheerful eyes were gone, replaced by the sharp, analytical gaze of a shinobi. He knew, better than anyone, that I'd only been a few months old.
"What do you mean, you remember?" he asked, his voice low and serious.
This was the crux of my gambit. I met his gaze, my own expression carefully neutral. "I remember everything, Nii-san. From the moment I was born. I don't forget things."
The air grew heavy. I could see the gears turning in his head, the prodigy's mind trying to process the sheer impossibility of what I'd just said. He was looking at me, but he was seeing something entirely new. He was seeing a puzzle. Instead of dismissing it as a childish fantasy, he did what a true genius would do: he considered the possibility.
"What," he said, his voice barely a whisper, "do you remember from that night?"
I looked down, as if gathering my thoughts, but in reality, I was selecting a specific, perfectly preserved memory file.
"I remember the big orange flash in the sky," I began, my voice laced with a carefully measured dose of childish awe. "And I remember being in the dark place, the shelter. Everyone was scared. But the Uchiha uncles were angry. They were angry with some man wasn't letting them fight."
Shisui's breath hitched. I had just confirmed the secret, bitter complaints of the clan with the impossible memory of an infant.
I pressed my advantage, my tone shifting to one of innocent confusion. "And I remember the big meeting, a few days later. Everyone was there. The old Hokage man. And the bandage man. Tou-san was angry. Fugaku-ojisan was angry. But the bandage man… he wasn't sad like the Hokage. He wasn't angry like the Uchiha."
I looked up, my four-year-old face the perfect mask of innocence as I delivered the payload—the one observation that would fester in his mind like a poison.
"He was looking at all of us, and his one eye looked… satisfied."
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wait
where
is
my
powerstone