Chapter 8

The gentle rays of the morning sun caressed my face through my open window, painting my cheeks with a warm glow. The sweet melody of birdsongs filled the air, carrying with it the promise of a peaceful weekend morning. But as the sound of my alarm pierced through the tranquil atmosphere, my heart sank with a heavy sigh.

It was Saturday, yet I couldn't laze around in bed. I had to get up and train. The thought of it made my limbs feel heavy and my mind numb. The temptation to sink back into the softness of my mattress was strong, as if it were beckoning me to give in to its seductive embrace.

But I knew better than to succumb to such comforts. I had grown stronger in this new life, with a willpower that surpassed my former self. And as I listened to the plaintive cries of my bed, I steeled myself for the challenge ahead.

I had to train. I had to become better, stronger, faster. I knew that I couldn't achieve my dreams if I remained weak and idle. So, with a resolute heart, I rose from my bed and prepared to face the day ahead.

Benjamin Franklin said, "Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise." Perhaps it was true, but Franklin was a whoring, drunk, racist who thought Germans were too "swarthy" and "dark skinned" for the Americas, so who gave a damn about what he thought.

I was unfortunately reminded in my head that a lot of people did. I sighed and broke myself from such depressing thoughts. Never again would some of my students hear my famous anti-Franklin tirades.

I made myself a simple, but hearty breakfast, of toast, bacon, eggs, and tomatoes. It seemed Sasuke's love of tomatoes was a preference that carried through strongly, overriding my former life's distaste for the...fruit? Vegetable? Pretty sure it was commonly viewed as a fruit, but such debates were ultimately a matter of culture, perception, and etymology more than a fundamental law of realty...but it was far too early to digress into examining Wittengenstein's philosophy of linguistics.

I finished my meal, dressed, and made my way to the door. As my hand reached for the door, I felt a chill run along my spine and bile rise in my throat. Something was on the door. With a tentative step backwards, I activated my Sharingan and saw it; or rather, saw nothing at all. It was a blob of nothingness, an eldritch perversion of reality and I swallowed hard.

It had been one year since that night at the Akimichi estate. One year since that abomination had warned me against the mangekyou. One year since I had begun seeing the blobs.

The monsters began to devour my flesh, rending my body limb from limb. Pain unlike any other threatened to abolish all conscious thought. I could feel death approaching.

And then suddenly, I was standing before Shikaku once more. And he spoke with a hint of kindness in his voice, "If you ever want stories about Fugaku of the Wicked Eye, don't hesitate to ask."

It was as if everything that had happened with the monsters was an illusion. I had hastily said a goodbye to Shikaku and ran home, locking myself in fear in my room. I had never felt such fear before.

Something about my transmigration had gained the attention of something truly Elder. My mind had turned to the stories of Lovecraft and Cthulhu and horrors that were too much for the human mind to handle. It seemed I was no longer in merely a shounen anime, but a tale of cosmic horror. I would take Madara and the Otsuki any day over this shit.

I focused on the creature blocking my exit. Though I could occasionally sense when one of the blobs were close, it took activating my Sharingan to "see" where they were. With a hard swallow, I steeled myself and pushed my hand through the nothingness to open the door.

I felt a small portion of my chakra drain from my body as I did so. Not enough to be a danger, but enough to be a warning. I was traveling the unbeaten path.

The first time I had seen one of the blobs had been three days after that horrific night, not the night of the massacre but the night I had begun referring to in my head as the Eldritch Night. It was a nice play on puns to perhaps make that horror seem a little less scary. Beside, I always enjoyed playing arcane characters in dungeons and dragons. Perhaps I should introduce that game to this world?

I sighed and shoot my head as I approached my family's training ground. I was getting lost on a tangent again. I needed to focus. It seemed none of the blobs were here at the training ground. Good, it would have been a pain to have to train with such a potential drain on my chakra.

The blobs only really appeared when I was performing an act that majorly went against what I assumed passed for the "canon" of this world. They did not appear for every infraction and often it seemed haphazard, but over the past year I had noticed that it seemed whenever I performed an act that would potentially alter the reality of this world, one of the blobs appeared.

I shuddered as I began practicing my taijutsu against one of the wooden posts.

The blobs were, quite frankly, terrifying. Even the smallest ones felt like I was stripping flesh from my very soul. They were like leaches, draining away my very life force. And so, I avoided them when I could, but so much had changed already it seemed to me that I knew I could not allow them to truly dictate my path. Still, it meant that I had to be more subtle in how I changed the world.

Once again, a heavy sigh escaped my lips as I attempted to focus on my training. It was a necessary distraction from the lingering horrors that threatened to consume my mind. The mere thought of the blobs sent a shiver down my spine, and I knew that allowing myself to dwell on them would only lead me down a path of madness.

My body moved with a fluid grace, a testament to the countless hours over the past year spent studying and practicing the taijutsu techniques of my chuunin instructors, Iruka and Mitsuki. The Sharingan had allowed me to perfect the form, but training would add the speed and strength.

However, despite my proficiency, I couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration at the limitations of my style. As a member of the Uchiha clan, my ancestors had a unique style designed to capitalize on the power of the Sharingan. But unfortunately, my younger self's knowledge of the style was woefully inadequate, and I was left with the basic taijutsu techniques taught to all Konoha Shinobi.

A scowl crept across my face as I considered my predicament. I knew that my potential was greater than what I was currently able to achieve, but without a deeper understanding of the Uchiha style, I was unable to tap into it fully. Itachi and Obito were the only ones alive who had mastered the style to the fullest, and they were obviously not an option.

Desperate for answers, I had scoured the vast library, which had turned out to be a treasure trove of knowledge once all the scrolls had been consolidated into a single location. However, my hopes were quickly dashed as I realized that the pictographs and diagrams in the scrolls made it incredibly difficult to learn a martial art style that relied so heavily on precise movements and technique.

My hits against the training stump has started to become sloppy thanks to my frustration, so I took a step back and some calming breaths. It would not do to train poorly merely because I was frustrated. I trained for a few hours more, before leaving the training ground to meet with Shikamaru and Chouji for the rest of the day.

Xxxx

We sprawled out on the rooftop, the sun-baked tiles warm against our backs, as we basked in the soothing afternoon breeze. The past two hours had been spent playing ninja, jumping and dodging around each other, but now we were content to let time pass in silence. The only sound was the rustling of the bag of chips as Chouji munched away.

Shikamaru broke the peaceful stillness with a sudden comment, pointing to a fluffy white cloud resembling a dragon. "See that cloud over there? That one looks like my mom."

I couldn't help but hold back a laugh. I knew all too well about Shikamaru's tumultuous relationship with his mother. Lady Nara could be quite formidable when her son's laziness became too much for her to handle. But my amusement quickly faded as I remembered my own painful loss. It had only been a little over a year since the massacre, and the ache in my heart remained raw.

Chouji chimed in, agreeing with Shikamaru's cloud interpretation before offering me a chip. I declined but couldn't help but admire Chouji's kindheartedness. He was always thoughtful and perceptive, noticing even the slightest discomfort in others.

Shikamaru, who had dozed off for a moment, sat up with a yawn. "No thanks, Chouji. And please, close your mouth when you eat. You're getting crumbs everywhere."

We returned to watching the clouds silently for a few moments until Shikamaru spoke up again. "You know, clouds are like life. They come and go, and you never know what shape they'll take."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Shikamaru's unexpected insight.

"I mean, you can't control the clouds, just like you can't control life. All you can do is observe them and try to predict what they'll do next."

I nodded slowly, but couldn't fully agree with his passive viewpoint. I turned to Chouji, curious about his thoughts.

Chouji, finished with his chips, let out a disappointed sigh and patted the ground beside him. "I think that cloud looks like a potato chip."

Shikamaru and I shared a grin at Chouji's simple observation, and I couldn't help but laugh. "It does look like a chip. But, Shikamaru, I think we can do more than just observe and predict."

Shikamaru smiled, pleased that his words had sparked a conversation. "Exactly. Life is like a game of strategy. You have to be strategic and plan your moves ahead of time."

Chouji let out a yawn and stretched his arms. "I'm getting sleepy. Maybe we should take a nap and dream about cloud-shaped potato chips."

I chuckled, feeling content in the presence of my friends. As we settled back onto the rooftop, watching the clouds drift aimlessly, I couldn't help but feel grateful for these small moments of peace amidst the monotony of training and far away from painful memories.

xxxxxx

Unfortunately, not every day was so peaceful. The following Monday we were back in class. It was the height of summer and the heat felt unbearable. I sat at my desk, surrounded by the dull drone of Iruka-sensei's lecture on the First Great Shinobi War. The room was stuffy, the air thick with the scent of sweat and old paper. I struggled to concentrate on the notes in front of me, my eyes glancing over to Kiba's boisterous antics in the back of the classroom.

His voice was like a hammer, pounding relentlessly against my eardrums. I felt bad for being irritated at the Inuzuka boy, but students talking during a lecture had always rubbed me the wrong way even when I had been a student myself. There was a reason I had been a college professor and not an elementary school teacher. The amount of patience it took to run a class room such as that was far beyond my capabilities.

I let out a heavy sigh, attempting to drown out the noise and immerse myself in the lecture. Iruka-sensei was a patient man, but even his patience was wearing thin. His eyes would occasionally flicker over to Kiba, his brow furrowed in frustration.

"Kiba, pay attention," Iruka-sensei's voice boomed, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. "This information is crucial to your future as a shinobi."

Kiba let out a snort, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling as if he was being punished for a crime he didn't commit. "Sorry, sensei," he muttered, his voice heavy with insincerity.

Iruka-sensei resumed his lecture, his voice low and steady, recounting the gruesome events of the war. I tried my best to focus, scribbling notes furiously in my notebook.

But Kiba's voice kept breaking my concentration, an incessant buzzing in my ear. I stole a glance at him, his broad shoulders hunched over his notebook, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

He caught my gaze and smirked, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. My lips curled in annoyance, my focus waning as his personality grew more and more obnoxious.

"Hey, Iruka-sensei!" Kiba bellowed, his voice bouncing off the walls of the classroom. "Do you think I could have taken on the First Hokage in a fight?"

Iruka-sensei's eyes widened in surprise, a brief moment of panic flashing across his face. But he quickly regained his composure, a small smile creeping across his face.

"The First Hokage was one of the strongest shinobi to ever live," Iruka-sensei replied, his voice firm but laced with amusement. "I don't think anyone could have taken him on in a fair fight."

Kiba grinned, the corners of his mouth curling upwards as if he had been praised for his efforts. "I bet I could have taken him," he muttered under his breath, settling back into his seat with a self-satisfied expression.

Iruka-sensei continued with the lecture, his voice a dull hum, but I could sense his patience dwindling with every passing second. Kiba's disruptive behavior was wearing thin, and I could tell that Iruka-sensei was fighting the urge to scold him.

Stolen story; please report.

The room was suffocating, the heat emanating from the other students making me feel like I was trapped in a sauna. My eyes flickered over to Kiba, his constant fidgeting and bickering growing more and more intolerable.

Finally, I snapped. "Kiba, can you please be quiet?" I blurted out, my voice ringing out like a gunshot in the silent classroom. "We're trying to learn something here."

Kiba's face turned beet red, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water. His expression quickly turned sheepish, and he nodded in agreement, his voice hushed and controlled. The sheepishness soon turned into a dirty look, but I found I did not care.

Shikamaru seemed to give me a grateful look, but I noticed some of the other students giving me wary looks. I sighed. As if I needed another reason to appear different, but I couldn't understand why these child-

Children. That's right. These were children being trained for war. I swallowed even as I felt guilt over my actions began to rise. Yeah, Kiba could be an asshole, but I shouldn't have lost my temper. I'd need to apologize later.

Iruka finished the lecture and gave us all a smile, "Now, considering the heat, we've decided to replace your regular calisthenics with a visit to the lake."

xxxx

I felt a hint of gratitude as a cheer went up among the class room.

As I walked towards the lake with the rest of my classmates, I could feel the excitement bubbling inside me. It was excessively hot and I could not wait to dive into the cool, blue water of the lake. I walked alongside Chouji and Shikamaru and noticed that even the normally lazy Nara was walking quickly. It seemed he was just as eager as I was to get out of this miserable heat.

As we reached the lake, Iruka-sensei gave us instructions on what we were going to do. There were a set of locker rooms where we could change into swimming gear and then we would all meet back outside.

The chuunin himself looked longingly at the lake and I felt a moment of sympathy for the man. He would not be allowed to partake in the festivities as he had to make sure we did not get into trouble.

I headed into the locker room and wrinkled my nose as the smell of a dozen sweaty boys filled the air. At least there wasn't any axe spray in this universe, merely regular deodorant. Still, it seemed the other boys didn't even have that. I finished up getting dressed in my trunks and soon all of us were outside alongside the girls in front of the lake with Iruka and Mitsuki.

I observed the white haired man for several long moments. In canon, Mitsuki had been a spy for Orochimaru, but, the truth was, I did not know if that was still the case. It was entirely possible Iruka was the spy in this universe. The thought did not appeal to me and I grimaced. Iruka was probably the kindest person I'd ever met. It was no wonder he had invested into Naruto.

I paused. The weight of Naruto's absence hung heavy in this world. I still was not quite certain what to do as a result. Who would be Asura's reincarnation? Was reincarnation even a thing in the world? The truth was, with Naruto's absence and the existence of the blobs, I was flying blind.

"Hey, Iruka, let's make this fun shall we? A competition," Mitsuki spoke up and all the kids turned their attention to him.

"Why not?" Iruka said after a moment with a chuckle, "Alright! Listen up! We will have races between fellow students. You swim to the other side and back. First one back wins!"

Many of the other kids started talking excitedly, but I focused on the lake. It was a decent swim from one side to the other and I frowned. For eight year olds to swim that far and back, this would be a matter more of endurance than pure speed.

"First up! Sasuke and Kiba."

I mentally cursed. Just my luck. I looked over at Kiba who was cracking his knuckles in an intimidating manner. I had not gotten the chance to apologize for my actions earlier and I could tell the other boy wanted revenge.

"Yes! I'm going to beat your ass, Sasuke!"

I felt a smirk cross my face. As if. I was confident in my swimming abilities, but I could see Kiba giving me dirty, but I didn't let it bother me. I was determined to win this race.

"Alright! Swimmers take your place," Iruka ordered, "On my mark. Get set. Go!"

As we jumped into the lake and started swimming, I could feel the water rushing past me. I put all my strength into my arms and legs and propelled myself forward. I could hear the sound of Kiba splashing around me, but I didn't look back.

Kiba immediately jumped out to the front, but I did not focus on him, more keen on maintaining a steady rhythm. Consistency was the key to winning this race, not adrenaline. I swam breaststroke style the length of the lake and could feel my arms beginning to burn. I really needed to increase my endurance.

We were over halfway back now and I had pulled even with Kiba. His arms were flailing more than swimming, wasting a great deal of energy. It would not be long before I left him behind. Suddenly, the other boy screamed.

"Stitches!"

I paused and turned around to see Kiba flailing in the water, struggling to stay afloat. I could see the panic in his eyes as he gasped for air. Without thinking, I swam towards him as fast as I could, ignoring my own burning arms. When I reached him, I grabbed him by the arm and started swimming back towards the shore. Kiba was still struggling, but I didn't let go. I put all my strength into my arms and pulled him along with me.

When we finally reached the shore, Kiba collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air. I could see the anger in his eyes as he looked up at me, mixed with guilt and shame.

"Why did you save me?" he shouted. "I was trying to beat you in the race. You should have let me drown!"

I didn't know what to say. I knew Kiba was always trying to prove himself, but I didn't think he would go so far as to risk his own life. I looked at him, trying to find the words to explain.

"I couldn't just let you drown," I said finally. "We may be rivals, but we're still classmates. We're supposed to look out for each other."

My words were true. I may view Kiba as an annoying brat, but he was one of my classmates. I cared for him regardless and I had an ethical responsibility to help him. It didn't matter whether or not I liked him as an individual.

Kiba looked at me for a moment, his anger melting away. He nodded slowly, as if he understood.

"Sasuke, Kiba! Are you okay?" Iruka approached quickly with a look of deep concern. It seems in my hurry to grab and save Kiba, we had drifted further down the lakes edge away from the group.

I turned towards Iruka and slowly began to stand, noting that Kiba was doing the same, "Ah, yes, Iruka-sensei. We're good!"

Kiba gave me a grateful tilt of the head as we headed back to the group.

Xxxxx

I entered the small office, feeling a bit apprehensive. Sunak Yeltori, the estate manager for my financial and business assets, was waiting for me. I knew we had to discuss the financial status of the businesses I owned, and I was hoping that everything was in order.

"Good afternoon, Sasuke," Sunak greeted me with a smile that was decidedly rat like, "Please, have a seat."

I took a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk and tried to relax. Sunak was a professional and I trusted him. Over the past year, I had met with him monthly and the two of us had developed a good working relationship, but I still felt uneasy talking about my finances.

"So, how are the businesses doing?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

Sunak pulled out a stack of papers and began to go over the details. As he spoke, I could feel my heart sinking. One of the restaurants my family owned was struggling, and I, not one trained in matters of business, had no idea how to turn it around.

"I understand that it's a difficult situation," Sunak said, looking at me with concern. "But I have some ideas on how we can improve the situation. We could sell the business at a loss, but it's better to sell now than later when we would get less for it. Another option is to merge it with one of of your other restaurants."

I leaned back in my seat, thoughtfully, and asked, "Do we know what the cause of the decrease in sales is?"

Sunak stroked his beard in a sagacious manner, "Examining the restaurant, it seems one of the old cooks had retired and the newer ones are not quite up to the same level."

I sighed. That would be difficult. I nodded and said, "Go ahead and sell it. While it's possible we could turn it around, it's more energy than I would prefer we deal with."

Sunak gave a tilt of his head, "I shall work to find an acceptable purchaser of the restaurant then." He paused and then looked at me curiously, "Thinking of food, I would like to extend the offer of you joining my family for dinner this evening."

I raised my brow. This was new. While I was not opposed, I was curious what had prompted this. I tilted my head and gave a nod, "I would be honored."

We finished up the rest of our business and made our way to Sunak's home.

As the sun began to set, we arrived at Sunak's home for dinner. He was treated warmly at the door by his family and quickly introduced me to his wife, Yaru, and their daughter, Tira. Tira was a small, timid child with big brown eyes that seemed to take everything in. She held tightly to her father's hand, peeking shyly at me from behind his leg.

We sat down to a delicious meal, and I could feel the tension in the air begin to dissolve. Sunak and Yaru were gracious hosts, and they made me feel welcome and at ease. We talked about everything from business to the latest news in the village, and I found myself enjoying their company more and more with each passing moment.

I noticed that Yaru would occasionally look at me with a hint of sympathy and I felt that my earlier curiosity was answered. The woman was concerned about me, an eight year old living all on my own. While it rankled my pride somewhat, her concern was entirely rational. There was no way she could have known about my past life. I was certain to give her pleasant and grateful smiles as she served the meal.

However, Sunak's daughter Tira remained cautious around me. She sat next to her mother, casting occasional glances my way but remaining mostly silent. I tried to engage her in conversation, but she would only respond with shy smiles and nods.

As we finished our meal, Sunak's wife cleared the table and brought out a plate of cookies for dessert. Tira's eyes lit up at the sight of them, and she took one eagerly.

"Would you like one, Sasuke?" Sunak asked, holding out the plate with a chuckle that caused his beady eyes to twinkle.

I took one of the cookies as more of a formality than actual enjoyment. I had inherited the tastebuds of Sasuke and sweets were not necessarily enjoyable to me. As I ate, I noticed Tira watching me closely. She seemed to be studying my every move, as if trying to decide if I was trustworthy.

Finally, she spoke up. "Are you a ninja?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, feeling a bit surprised. "Yes, I am," I replied. "Why do you ask?"

Tira's eyes widened, and she looked up at her father for reassurance. "Ninjas are scary," she whispered.

I felt a pang of sadness at her words. Red eyes. Blood splattered across the ground. Yes, ninja could be terrifying; however, I felt a deep sense of compassion as I looked down at the young girl.

"Not all ninjas are scary," I said gently. "Some of us just want to protect the village and keep people safe."

"Like the Hokage?" She asked after a moment. I felt a hint of bitterness flare in my heart. The old man truly did want to keep the village safe, but had been too weak to save my family. I wondered for a moment if the massacre would've happened had the Yondaime been alive. Unlikely. I shook my head and looked at the girl and simply nodded.

"Yes, like the Hokage."

Later that night, I sat upon the steps which surrounded the garden in the center of my home. The moon shone brightly this evening and I couldn't help but feel lost. I needed to grow stronger, that much was certain, but the weight of living in this world, so different than mine own and even that of the canon Naruto world weighed on me. Without the protagonist, what hope did this world have?

I sighed and leaned back. I thought of Shikamaru and Chouji. Sunak and his family. Iruka and his gentle ways of teaching. Hell, I even thought of Kiba. I felt a measure of affection for each of them. In the one year since I'd arrived in this world, it'd become home. Konoha had become my home. I'd already made the decision that I would become strong. I'd already decided I would not follow Sasuke's path of vengeance.

And now I had another decision to make.

Like the Hokage...

Naruto wasn't in this world; therefore, it was my responsibility. I would become Hokage.

With a smile, I turned to head back inside. Tomorrow, I would begin the steps towards that goal.

I was unaware that, on the far side of the moon, a small blob began to grow.