Kentarō
A long time ago, about a thousand years prior to the end of the warring states era, there was not even a single person capable of utilizing chakra.
That was until Hagoromo, a monk in Temple of Fire who's known today as the Sage of Six Paths; firstborn of the Emperor Tenji and a prince to the Land of Ancestors who had left the royal life behind, had reached an enlightenment through rigorous meditation, and spread the gift of chakra along with his beliefs throughout the world.
Thus Ninshū came to be. A religion once practiced worldwide, now at the brink of extinction. Practiced by very few people, in scarce temples that survived where once the Land of Ancestors lay.
Ninshū was intended to help individuals gain a deeper understanding of themselves and others. By linking their spiritual energy with another's, people were meant to transcend the need for words, fostering a world of harmony and mutual comprehension.
'Alas, he should have put his foolish ambitions to rest.' Thought bemused Kentarõ, remembering a certain quote, as he put his chakra into motion.
Where Ninshū spread, Ninjutsu was quick to follow. It emerged within Hagoromo's own lifetime, not by his hand, but by that of his brother, Hamura. Unlike Hagoromo, Hamura abandoned the monastic path, driven by a desperate desire to end the bloody conflict between his ancestral homeland and the Land of That.
By merging his spiritual and physical energy, he conjured flames that engulfed the enemy's of his homeland, reducing both armies and innocent people into nothing but ash and smoke.
It is said that in a single day, he wiped the land clean of all opposition, erasing an entire nation and it's people from existence.
'Or so the records claimed.' Kentarō exhaled, wishing for more sources to cross-reference. 'A pity…'
Hagoromo did not like it, of course. He clashed with his brother, which ended in huge landmass alteration followed by their disappearance.
This apparently, was common knowledge amongst shinobi and educated folk.
…At least according to this book. Dammit. A surge of annoyance flowed through him along with chakra. Why couldn't he get more of those fucking books. Maybe if he knew more, he wouldn't be such a pathetic piece of shi-
A sharp pain tore through his skull and heart, forcing a groan from his lips. His vision wavered, veins standing out against his forehead as he fought to suppress the rage within.
Another failure.
His yet another attempt at the Fireball Technique had resulted in nothing but a raw throat and a coughing fit, leaving his breath thick with the taste of smoke.
Even channeling his chakra to his oral cavity didn't help. Apparently it was easier than doing so with a hand when it comes to fire related techniques. It made him wonder just how advanced Orochimaru's mastery over this peculiar energy is.
He sighed, sitting cross-legged and closing his eyes, Kentarō pushed unnecessary thoughts away.
After the great clash of two siblings, it hadn't taken long for others to follow in Hamura's footsteps. It was such a human thing to do after all, to simply pursue power for the sake of it. As time passed, ninjutsu grew more refined, complex, until entirely different branches like genjutsu came to be.
That, however, was of little relevance to him now.
His mind drifted back to Hamura, the brother who had forsaken his order, abandoned the beliefs put into him throughout the years, and annihilated an entire nation for the sake of his people.
Kentarō felt there was something missing here. Just what made the younger brother do such a drastic thing.
The hatred and sadness he felt must have been intense, for him to erase a whole nation so quickly.
Those were similar emotions that try to cage him right now.
So, what had Hamura done differently? How had he taken his pain and fury and turned them outward, wielding them like a blade against his enemies, instead of allowing them to consume him from within?
Kentarō exhaled heavily, frustration settling deep in his bones. No matter how much he tried to "acknowledge" his emotions, it never seemed to make a difference. And as for positive ones, he already had plenty of those.
For instance, when he landed that hit against Kin, it felt good. Well... what else was he supposed to channel into his chakra?
Grumbling, he joined his hands together, and went through the hand signs. He will get a hold on this fucking technique or-
Kentarō hands halted mid motion, at the sound of multiple steps from behind, his chakra returning to its rightful place. 'So much for some solitude… guess I need to leave it for later then.'
With a sigh, he stood up and turned his unimpressed gaze to the unruly band of children.
The girl was already running in his direction, folllwed by Dosu, Zaku and Benjibaru who made their way to the middle with no hurry in their steps.
"Ready for beating?" Asked Kin with a feral grin, that once was his sole reason to actually try.
"Bring it on." He answered with a smirk of his own. Today some arses would be handled, and it wouldn't be his.
…
'Sigh… who am I even kidding?'
Orochimaru
'And that, dear Kentarō-kun, is what happens when you don't preserve your strength during fights.'
Behind a one-way window, the Snake Sage observed the scene with mild amusement as his new pupil was struck down again and again by the members of Team Dosu.
Still, Orochimaru noted with interest, "He improves. Good." It would have seem Kentarō no longer felt the need to retreat into the shell Orochimaru had so generously provided him.
Truly, his kindness knew no bounds.
A low, unsettling chuckle slipped from his lips at the thought. Of course, nothing in this world, or any other was given freely. And Orochimaru, ever the meticulous collector of debts, would see to it that Kentarō-kun repaid his dues tenfold.
In the end, the boy would offer everything he possessed on a silver plate with a smile upon his face… everything and more.
Even now, the progress was evident. The fruits of careful manipulation unfolded before Orochimaru's eyes. Kentarō-kun had begun to accept his new identity, slowly forming bonds with the select few Orochimaru had placed around him. The connections were crude, awkward and forced, but necessary. Without them, the next phase of his plans would never bear fruit.
Still, it was tad too early.
The boy was painfully awkward in social interactions, gravitating toward peace and monotony. He disliked challenges, avoided pressure, and above all, detested responsibility.
Which was why, in his infinite wisdom, Orochimaru will make sure to bury him beneath it.
Whenever Kentarō found comfort, Orochimaru shattered it. Whenever he reached for stability, chaos followed. Again and again, until the boy's weakness cracked and fell away. Until his mind was tempered, reforged into something sharper and useful.
He will cultivate him into a vessel worthy of himself.
A difficult challenge, yes, but a welcome one. Such a character, when nurtured with care, held unique advantages. Beneath the layers of awkwardness and reluctance, there could be a potential reservoir of loyalty and gratitude.
It was true. Kentarō's nature, as frustrating as it might be at first glance, could be molded into something far more valuable. With the right guidance, his stubbornness would become unwavering dedication, his reluctance would transform into an unbreakable sense of duty.
In the end, he would be a tool of exceptional worth; a loyal vessel, bound to Orochimaru's will, driven not by fear alone but by a deep sense of indebtedness, a burning gratitude for the very man who had shaped him.
Alas, the Mind Reading technique could only reveal so much: raw memories, fragmented and layered like a complex painting, each one open to countless interpretations. What one person could perceive as a simple moment of joy, another could see as a hint of sorrow hidden under the mask. This was the barrier Orochimaru faced, for without a clearer understanding of Kentarõ's innermost desires and feelings, the process of molding him into something truly useful would be far more arduous.
What Orochimaru needed with a specimen like that, was to plant a dream so profound that it would etch itself onto Kentarō's very soul. A purpose that would sink its roots deep, becoming the core of this new identity, one that would finally bridge the gap between his native body and the foreign mind.
A dream to be engraved upon his very soul. A purpose that takes roots so deep that it would serve as a core of this new being, finally establishing a healthy connection and numify estrangement between native body and this foreign mind.
Fortunately, Kentarō already seemed to be moving in that direction. Introducing him to a hobby from his past life was a proper choice. Now all that remained was to nourish his present self… and reshape that dream until Orochimaru stood at its center.
Without purpose, the body would always feel alien. One could not simply inhabit a foreign vessel and expect it to become home. The ritual had made that abundantly clear.
'Bear in mind while developing Living Corpse Reincarnation. Possible countermeasures: Weak soul, willing specimen. Study further…'
Due to the overwhelming amount of data that was present in his soul, it created an insurmountable barrier, as if to stop the connection to the unknown vessel.
From the movement of chakra, he deduced that the soul tried to reshape the body he provided according to the one in its memories, which would undoubtedly result in its destruction, leaving behind nothing but a meat paste or some deformed atrocity, as the technique was nothing like Edo Tensei. It was far too crude for that.
The Pure World Reincarnation focused on the use of multitude of summoning diagrams to find and bind specific type of soul. Unlike the Second's technique, it had a wider range of possibilities, as one did not have to adjust the diagrams for specific person one wished to call upon.
The soul in question required to be weak of willforce and spiritual energy, thus allowing him to bind it to a living body. The price for it was equal to the spiritual energy such soul possessed.
It was also why no one could summon the likes of First Hokage such way, though Orochimaru still searched for a way to bypass this limitation to bring back himself if the necessity arose.
In Kentarō's case, to make the connection possible, a significant cut was necessary, a deliberate severing of parts of Kentarō's soul. This would leave him confused, fragmented, detached from his true self, with gaps in his memories and a lingering sense of depersonalization. A shell of who he once was, yet it left him as a perfect blank slate for the purpose Orochimaru had in mind.
It was a calculated risk, one that promised a difficult road ahead, but the payoff would be immense.
'The things I could do with just his bloodline…'
With enough time, the pieces of Kentarō's shattered soul would slowly mend. His memories would begin to form, and the experiences he accumulated would serve to reshape him, eventually filling the weight that pressed on his very shoulders.
The name Kazuki Yamada would fade away, vanishing like dust on the wind, and in its place, Kentarō Uchiha would emerge; whole, complete person, and forged by the pain and suffering he would endure under his guidance.
'And for all that, the boy will be grateful to none other than myself.'
Kin Tsuchi
'Where the hell are you, deadeyes!?' Kin Tsuchi growled inwardly, her patience wearing thin as she scoured the various training grounds, wasting her precious time in search for the deadeyed idiot.
A time that could be spent on reading those goddamn books he somehow leeched from Orochimaru-sama!
'MOTHERFUCKER!!!'
Dosu had spilled everything, and somehow, against all odds, the leech managed to worm his way into Orochimaru's good graces. All that with his constant tours to the labs.
So here she was, on her way to make a deal that would benefit both sides: because somehow the little shit had grown out of stupid in such a short period of time.
'Finally!' Grunted Kin Tsuchi in her mind. Her eyes locked onto his cross-legged form near the edge of the field. Kin paused, watching him in silence. Ever since that first trip into the labs, something about him had changed. He trained harder now, even without the usual threats she'd use to keep him moving. He even stayed behind after their joint sessions, grinding away alone.
"Tch."
She stepped in front of him, arms crossed, shadow falling over his face. A smirk tugging her lips. "Oi oi, Deadeyes. How about a deal?"
One he couldn't just refu-
"No!"
A groan escaped his lips as he clutched his heart in annoyance and pain.
…
"What the hell you mean "no", you ugly bastard!" She flapped her hands like a bird, face flushed in anger. "Don't you want to learn cool jutsu!?"
In an instant his head flicked to her direction, as if some dormant neurons were activated at the word.
"Huh? A jutsu? What jutsu?"
...Kin answered him with a blank look on her face.
'...Dumbass.'
A pout and an annoyed huff later, she did her best to regain some sense of dignity after her initial outburst. Only then, she continued. "So here's the deal, you twat…"
…
She clapped her hands, her fingers intertwining into a handsign.
A puff of smoke erupted beside her, and when it cleared, a solid copy of Kin Tsuchi stood there, arms folded and smirking just as smugly.
"Pretty neat, huh?" The clone chimed in. "Are you impressed, hmm? I'm great, aren't I? And this is just the beginning. But first, you master this if you want me to show other techniques."
That was the deal. In exchange for the access to his books, they'd teach him a few techniques from their own repertoires per team member, plus the Clone Technique. Orochimaru-sama had banned nature transformation, sure, but common and natureless jutsu were fair game.
Deadeyes, as she predicted, refused to share whatever technique he was trying to master.
Smart, she supposed. Never show all your cards, even to teammates and friends. Didn't make it any less annoying though.
'Tch! Greedy bastard.'
Kentarō unsurely made a hand sign for the technique, a motion that snapped her out of her thoughts. Kin opened her mouth, and pointed her finger upward in lecturing motion. She should provide some pointers, it is expected of her as his senpai, after all.
"You should guide the chakra based on the way of-"
Poof
Smoke bursted beside him and h.er words died in her throat.
As the smoke cleared, a near-perfect copy of Kentarō stood there, staring at its original with the same stunned expression she wore.
'...The swirl of your hair. What the fu-'
"Show me the other techniques, please."
Before she could finish her thought, his voice cut through it, urgent and eager.
She met his gaze. The usual blankness was gone, replaced with something raw and bright; determination, excitement, accomplishment and an almost unsettling look of pure joy. It was the first time she'd seen him look alive and genuinely happy since the day Orochimaru dropped him off at their feet.
For a moment the nickname "Deadeyes" felt really fucking wrong.
'...Those goddamn books…' She gulped and slowly started to explain another jutsu, trying her best to ignore this new stain upon her pride. '…better be god-damned worth it.'
A/N: As you can probably guess, no Kaguya and Ootsutski shit in this fic. Also, achieving the 15k words mark, I would like to see your thoughts and some comments about the story so far.
Thank you.