After praying at my mother's shrine, I made my way to the Yamanaka clan compound to see Uncle Inoichi.
Even though he was the head of Konoha's Analysis Team, Uncle Inoichi always found time for me, whether we were playing games or he was answering my endless questions. For the past year, in my free time, I'd either hang out with him or Uncle Shikaku. To them, it most likely appeared that I simply enjoyed being around them—something that I truly did—but, in reality, it was a plan. By hanging around, I was able to see how they approached things, learn their methods, and, more importantly, gather information about what was happening in the world.
According to what I had seen in the anime, the Third Shinobi War was still underway, fueled by the loss of the Third Kazekage. Sunagakure, in their desperation, accuses Konoha of his disappearance, which is quite amusing. I mean, can you imagine being so oblivious that you don't even know your leader has been dead for years—murdered by one of your own? Sasori, the grandson of Chiyo, had killed him and made him one of his creepy puppets. The fact that Suna's security was so weak and their internal factions so divided only proved just how unstable their village was.
Daydreaming, I was able to make it to Uncle Inoichi's place at last and knocked on the door. Without delay, I called out, "Uncle Inoichi! I'm here to play! Let's play ninja tag!"
I heard a thudding noise coming from inside, and then shuffling footsteps. The door creaked open a moment later to show me Uncle Inoichi wearing his pajamas. His eyes had dark circles under them, and he seemed as though he hadn't slept in days.
"Ahh… Good morning, Akira!" he said, sounding a bit drowsy.
I blinked. "Good morning, Uncle! You look like you could use a vacation."
He exhaled a deep breath. "Yeah, I know. The Third Shinobi War has us in the Analysis Team working overtime. If things get any wilder, I might even be summoned to the frontlines."
Upon hearing that, I recalled some of the largest events of the war. This was the era when legends were forged: the ascension of the Yellow Flash, Minato Namikaze, the Copy Ninja, Kakashi Hatake; the tragic loss of Rin; and the apparent death of Obito Uchiha—only to descend into darkness at the hands of Madara. There were the mythic tales of the Third Raikage fighting thousands of shinobi alone, the Byakugan being caught by Kirigakure's Ao, and, naturally, the death of Hanzo the Salamander at the hands of a vengeful Nagato, who would go on to create the Akatsuki, a true force to be reckoned with.
I looked up at Uncle Inoichi, and I knew that even though he was tired, he stood tall. He was a shinobi, after all—no matter how stressful the war became, he had a responsibility to Konoha and our clan.
"Well, Uncle," I smiled, "if you get deployed to the frontlines, you'd better vow to return in one piece. Otherwise, who am I going to play ninja tag with?"
He laughed, shaking his head. "You're one of a kind, Akira."
He moved aside and gestured for me to come in. "Okay, since you went through all that trouble to get here, let's play. But let me warn you—I might be tired, but I'm not going out without a battle."
I grinned. "Bring it on, Uncle! You're going to regret staying up later!"
As I walked into the front door of Uncle Inoichi's house, he spread his arms wide and flashed that typical smirk of his.
"Okay, Akira, since you're the challenger, I'll initiate and tag you first."
I shook my head and folded my arms stubbornly. "No way, Uncle! I get to tag you first!"
His smirk simply grew, apparently relishing the teasing. "Oh? All confident, aren't you? You do remember I'm a Jōnin, don't you? Picking me out won't be a cakewalk."
I smiled in return. Jokes on you, Uncle.
"Still, I want to try," I pressed.
He laughed, playing with my hair in that obligatory uncle manner. "Okay, then, but don't blame me when you can't locate me!"
With that, the game began.
In an instant, Uncle Inoichi was gone, running into the thick woods that encircled the Yamanaka estate. I stood there watching him go, pausing for a moment before I moved. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply to concentrate.
This was not a game of fun; this was my opportunity to hone my sensory skills.
Thanks to my lessons with Nano, I'd learned a lot about chakra, but knowing about it didn't give me the skills to use it. My current sensory range was barely five meters. Still, improvement was possible.
I reached out with my chakra, trying to feel my surroundings.
Nothing.
Just the quiet hum of the forest and my limited perception.
Sighing, I reminded myself that if it were that simple to track him down, every shinobi would be a sensor ninja.
But I wasn't giving up. I needed to refine my senses, even if my range was pathetic. I ran off into the trees, attuning myself to every change in the air, every creak of leaves, and every bit of chakra that passed my way.
Minutes became a half-hour of careful searching. When I was at last beginning to lose hope, I sensed it—the slightest tingling, the hint of chakra. So weak at first that I was almost unaware of it, yet I could pick up on it just enough that I could manage.
Breathing slowly, I trailed the faint presence, making my way through the trees. And there he was—Uncle Inoichi, sitting on a fat branch high up, hidden in the leaves, eyes shut, looking utterly calm.
Sleeping.
A wide smile crossed my face. Got you, Uncle.
I quietly climbed the tree, making my way over quietly until I was directly overhead of him. With a smile in my eyes, I tapped him gently with my finger, and he fell off the branch.
"TAG!" I called out victoriously.
His eyes sprang open as he started to drop, but, unfazed as always, he adjusted in mid-air. No freak-out, just a fluid contortion of his form as he alighted on the ground with a mere whisper of a thud.
Sheer experience, and that perfect control of the chakras—I had much to learn.
He gazed up at me, a glint of humor in his eyes, and smirked. "Appears you've got a talent for sensory powers, Akira. Picking me out when I was repressing my chakra isn't exactly simple—even if I wasn't holding back, I am impressed you managed to track me down."
I jumped off the tree, bubbling with enthusiasm. "Well, I am a Yamanaka! It's in my blood!"
Uncle Inoichi burst out laughing and playfully patted my head. "That's the spirit! Continue training, and who knows? One day you'll be the greatest sensor ninja in Konoha."
I smiled back at him, excitement bursting forth. "That's the idea, Uncle!"
After our game of ninja tag, Uncle Inoichi and I made our way back inside, where Aunt Inoki was already busy serving lunch.
We washed up in the bathroom and settled at the table. As always, Aunt Inoki scooped me up onto her lap, feeding me herself. I might have been a whole year old and capable of eating on my own, but she spoiled me rotten. No doubt about it— I was her favorite, and she never missed a chance to shower me with affection.
Once we polished off lunch, I jumped in to help the Yamanaka couple with the dishes. While I was drying a plate, Aunt Inoki looked at me with a glint in her eye and asked,
"Akira, I'm heading to the market to buy groceries. Do you want to come with me?"
I couldn't help but grin. "Yes! I'm running out of fun beating Uncle Inoichi at ninja tag! Sometimes, I wonder if he's a Jōnin or just a Genin in disguise."
Uncle Inoichi, sipping his tea, nearly choked. He shot me an exasperated look while Aunt Inoki chuckled, clearly amused.
"Alright, then. Go get ready—we'll leave in a minute or two."
The marketplace was busy, but an irreversible weight hung in the air. As the Third Shinobi War raged on, the mood among the villagers was strained. War was never a success for civilians—merchants, farmers, and craftsmen paid the highest price, their lives controlled by wars they never participated in.
As Aunt Inoki and I navigated through the stalls, I saw two figures in the distance. A woman, roughly Aunt Inoki's age, moved with a peaceful demeanor, her dark hair cascading down her back as she walked hand in hand with a little boy. He was my age, with dark hair like mine and onyx eyes that pierced like jewels.
I knew them at once.
Mikoto Uchiha, Fugaku Uchiha's wife—the head of the Uchiha Clan. And standing beside her…
Itachi Uchiha.
The Uchiha prodigy, the child once called a genius of a lifetime. The would-be leader, the future Hokage—left a rogue ninja, his reputation marred by the blood of his kind.
Looking at him now, just a harmless, innocent-looking child, unaware of the horrible destiny that would befall him, something inside me constricted.
I had never liked Itachi's character in the anime. He made too many decisions alone, bearing the weight of an entire clan's future without ever seeking their voices. He slaughtered his kin in the name of the so-called greater good, never even attempting to fight for their place in the village. He broke Sasuke, tormenting him under the guise of making him stronger. And even in death, he had left behind a trap—Shisui's Kotoamatsukami—meant to bring Sasuke back onto Konoha's side if he ever turned against it.
It was manipulation at its best.
But for all my anger at him, I couldn't entirely fault him either.
Itachi and Shisui were idealists, thinking that the long-standing resentment between Konoha and the Uchiha could be resolved by understanding each other. They were children—naïve children attempting to resolve a crisis that had been festering for generations. But what they did not know was that there were men in authority who did not care about peace.
Danzo never intended to reconcile with the Uchiha.
To him, extermination wasn't a possibility—it was an objective.
He perceived the Uchiha as a threat, an asset to be eliminated in the name of his warped vision of Konoha's future. He desired their eradication, whether for political security or personal experimentation, milking their Sharingan for his benefit.
Shisui, in his naivety, had thought his genjutsu, Kotoamatsukami, could impose peace on the Uchiha. But he had underestimated Danzo's ambition. The veteran war hawk stole his eye and drove him to the brink, compelling Shisui to leave everything to Itachi.
And Itachi, the perpetual loyal soldier, had to make a decision.
He could have resisted. He could have rallied allies, attempted to uncover Danzo's plots, and forced Danzo to negotiate.
But instead, he took another route.
He decided to believe in Konoha more than anything else.
A diehard believer, he took the village's word for it without complaint. Rather than fighting for his people, he became the sword that sliced them down.
Observing the little boy walk alongside his mother, not knowing the weights that would soon be placed upon him, I made a decision.
He was young. Still pliable.
If only I could get to him—if only I could alter the way he perceived the world—then perhaps I could alter the course of history itself.
A small smile creased my lips. I had discovered my next assignment.
For a moment, Akira hesitated. This was his opportunity to intervene. To sow a seed of doubt before it was too late.
He elbowed Aunt Inoki's arm, hardly able to keep the excitement in check. "Can we go greet them?" He gestured towards Mikoto and Itachi as they walked past a fruit stand.
Aunt Inoki arched an eyebrow but smiled at his enthusiasm. "Okay, let's go introduce ourselves."
As they came closer, Mikoto's face lightened. "Inoki! It's wonderful to see you!" she welcomed.
"Hey, Mikoto!" Aunt Inoki replied, equally ebullient. Then, kneeling slightly, she indicated Akira. "And this little boy here is—" A moment's hesitation. "Akira. Jina's son."
Mikoto's smile wavered—just for an instant. Her dark eyes flashed over Akira, a look uninterpretable flashing in them before she relaxed. "He has her eyes."
Akira blinked, surprised at the abrupt gravitas in her tone. He knew little about his mother—just tales of the people who'd known her—but the look Mikoto was giving him now made his chest squeeze.
Aunt Inoki offered a small, nostalgic smile. "That he does."
The moment passed, and Mikoto turned to the quiet boy at her side, resting a gentle hand on his head. "And this is my son, Itachi."
Akira met Itachi's gaze. The boy stood silently, watching him with sharp, calculating eyes. He wasn't looking at him in curiosity or excitement like most kids his age—he was studying him.
Akira grinned. "You look strong."
Itachi blinked once, tilting his head slightly. "You too," he said, his voice calm and even.
A familiar fire ignited in Akira's chest. A rival. Finally.
He smirked. "Wanna find out who's stronger?"
Mikoto chuckled, amused. "It looks like you've already gained a rival, Itachi."
Aunt Inoki sighed theatrically. "Oh boy, here we go…"
Akira pointed a finger at Itachi, his smile growing. "Then from today on, you're my rival!"
Itachi looked at him blankly. "…What does that mean?"
Akira puffed out his chest and folded his arms. "It means we'll keep pushing each other! Training together! Fighting to see who's better!"
Itachi furrowed his brow, tilting his head in contemplation. "That sounds. inefficient."
Akira almost fell. "What?! No, it's how you become stronger! Rivals urge each other beyond their limits!"
Itachi thought about it for a second. "I understand. Then. I accept."
Mikoto smiled, observing the two boys engage with each other. "He's full of energy, isn't he?"
"He certainly is!" Aunt Inoki laughed. "But I'll bet Itachi is quite quick himself. He may just beat you to it, Akira!"
Itachi's eyes narrowed slightly at the challenge. "I can." His tone was low but definite.
Akira smiled and leaned forward, speaking softly as if he were sharing a big secret. "If you'd like, I can demonstrate my special ninja techniques. They're cool."
Itachi's eyes widened just a tiny bit. "Seriously? What kind of techniques?"
Aunt Inoki interrupted before Akira could respond. "Why don't we all try something sweet from that stall there?"
Mikoto agreed, and as they approached the vendor, Akira felt purpose surging within him. Becoming friends with Itachi wasn't about altering destiny—it was about offering him an option. An option above obligation, above sacrifice.
As they selected some candies, Akira once again approached Itachi. "You know, my uncle advises that teamwork is the secret to becoming an awesome ninja. Have you ever practiced with friends?"
Itachi paused, his eyes cast downwards. "Sometimes. it's difficult to believe in others. They don't always get it."
Akira nodded, sensing the loneliness in his tone, even though Itachi himself did not completely understand it yet. "Then let's reverse that! We can practice together—ninja tag, teamwork exercises, all of it! If we cooperate, everyone gets a prize."
Mikoto looked at Akira, a soft look of thankfulness on her face. It was evident she wanted Itachi to know childhood, and to have friends.
As they concluded their snacks, Akira showed his new nemesis a sly smile. "When we practice together, I'll make sure you're the greatest ninja in the world!"
Itachi glanced at him and then nodded. "Okay."
As we walked away from the market, I casually touched the side of my head, making sure no one was paying attention. "Nano, scan Itachi's body and eyes. I need a full report when we get home."
A soft, mechanical chime echoed in my mind as Nano confirmed the request. "Received. Activating full-body scan of target: Itachi Uchiha. The analysis will be ready upon your return home."
I glanced over my shoulder at Itachi, who was now strolling beside his mother, completely unaware of the microscopic-level scan happening inside his body.
That kid… his body might already be breaking down from the burden of his strength.
For now, though, all I could do was collect information.
After parting ways with Mikoto and Itachi, Aunt Inoki and I continued shopping. We weaved through the busy streets, stopping at stalls to pick up vegetables, rice, and dried foods for the week. Despite the war, the market still had a decent variety of goods, though I noticed some essentials were getting pricier. Supply lines must have been affected.
While Aunt Inoki haggled over the price of some fresh fish, I wandered over to a small bookstore nearby. My eyes scanned the faded covers and tightly rolled scrolls, fingers grazing across the different titles—strategy guides, shinobi techniques, Konoha's history, and records of past wars.
"Interested in something?" Aunt Inoki's voice broke through my thoughts as she walked over, smiling warmly.
"Yeah," I admitted, eyes still locked on the books.
She chuckled. "Want some?"
I looked up, surprised. "Really?"
"Of course," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "I know how much you love learning. Pick whichever ones you want."
I didn't hesitate. I grabbed a few books on Konoha's history, a chakra theory volume, and one detailing the key figures of past wars. These would be valuable—understanding the village's past meant understanding the people shaping its future.
"Thanks, Aunt Inoki!" I grinned, genuinely grateful.
She ruffled my hair, laughing. "You're too polite for a kid your age."
After finishing our shopping, we made our way back to Uncle Inoichi's house. I thanked them both for lunch and the books before heading home, my arms full of supplies and my mind racing with plans.
By the time I stepped into my house, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting golden streaks of light across the wooden floor. The house was silent, as usual. My father was rarely home—always out on missions or handling village duties.
I set my books down and settled on the floor, crossing my legs. Taking a deep breath, I finally said, "Nano, give me the full analysis on Itachi."
A familiar chime echoed in my head. "Analysis complete. Subject: Itachi Uchiha. Age: 5 years. Sharingan: Not yet activated. Physical Condition: High potential, but signs of early deterioration detected. Cause: Prolonged exposure to high chakra stress at an early age. Likely catalyst: Uchiha Clan training methods and genetic predisposition."
I frowned. "Explain the deterioration."
"Itachi's body is developing rapidly, but his chakra network is under severe strain. His cells show signs of oxidative stress, likely due to early training in high-intensity jutsu. If he continues on this path without strengthening his physical foundation, his body will gradually break down over time. Based on historical data, this aligns with the condition that ultimately led to his terminal illness in his late teens."
I exhaled slowly, rubbing my temples. So that's it… it wasn't just the Mangekyō Sharingan that destroyed his body. It started years before that.
This meant that if I wanted to prevent his illness in the future, I had to figure out a way to make his body stronger before the damage became irreversible.
This wasn't just about stopping the Uchiha Massacre anymore. If I genuinely wanted to save Itachi, I had to save him from himself.
Leaning back against the wall, I stared up at the ceiling, my mind working through the puzzle. My next steps were becoming clearer.
I needed to get stronger. I needed to establish my presence. And most importantly—
I had to become someone Itachi would listen to.
A slow smirk crept onto my face as I reached for one of my new books, flipping it open.
Step one of the plan: knowledge.
"""
(A/n);- Female Heroine will be Izumi as she has got 3 votes while Ino has gotten 4 votes but 2 votes were given after this chapter was released so it was too late to vote and it would take much more time for romance to start in the series as Ino and MC must be at least 14 or 15 to start romance and according to timeline that will be prelude great ninja war so I cannot take Ino as a Female lead.Which also Apply to Hinata as she is of same generation as Ino, due to late voting I have chooses the perfect timeline for Izumi to be as Female Herione, So I hope you will respect this decision and continue along with the story.
"""