reincarnated in the world of naruto

The massacre of the 34 Iwa ninjas had ended. Although the victory was ours, some of our own had fallen.

Orochimaru appeared among the bodies. His gaze slid over the corpses with an expression that seemed somewhere between indifferent and amused.

"Oh, it seems that unfortunately some of us died..." he let out a low, drawn-out laugh.

His eyes settled on me, with that reptilian gaze that always felt unsettling.

"Arata, I thought you weren't going to survive," he said in an almost mocking tone. "When we return to the base, you can rest."

I didn't respond. He simply turned with his usual indifference and ordered the retreat.

The way back was silent. When we arrived at the base, I separated from the group. My wounds were bandaged, but I planned to use Kannonbiraki Benihime Aratame to heal myself.

But then, Orochimaru's presence made itself known again.

He leaned against a tree, watching me with that curiosity that was starting to irritate me.

"Hey, kid..." His voice came out of nowhere, dragging the words with his typical serpentine tone. "I noticed your skills while you were fighting that Iwa ninja. Very interesting... those two wind and fire jutsus."

I glanced at him sideways.

"And what does that mean?" I replied without much interest.

Orochimaru's smile widened, as if he had been waiting for that question.

"Well... I'm curious about your jutsus," he said, laughing. "But more importantly... your three-tomoe Sharingan."

His tone was playful, but his eyes reflected a sharp interest.

He stepped a little closer, tilting his head to the side, like a snake observing its prey.

"According to the report Fugaku sent me, you're an excellent sensor without the Sharingan. However, something doesn't add up. Some from Root told me they saw it, even if only for a moment. Tell me, why do you hide it?"

I smiled calmly.

"You should never show your last card to others."

Orochimaru tilted his head slightly, analyzing me with the same fascination a child has when observing a new toy.

"Hmm... you have a point."

But he didn't look away. His curiosity persisted, radiating an almost irritating intensity.

"What are you looking for, Orochimaru?"

This time, his laugh was softer, more restrained.

"Nothing, nothing..."

Orochimaru narrowed his eyes, watching with fascination.

A fully matured Sharingan... and at such a young age. An exceptional find. A perfect specimen.

Slowly, a barely perceptible smile formed on his face. In his mind, the possibilities were endless. Experiment, discover, unravel every hidden secret.

The forest fell silent. But in that silence, I felt the atmosphere change. The air grew heavy, somber. My anger, like a sleeping beast, began to awaken. Without realizing it, my killing intent began to seep out.

My voice came out low, cutting.

"Whatever you're thinking, snake... you'll regret it if you try anything against me."

Orochimaru paused for a second. Not out of fear, but because of the intensity of my aura. It was strong... abnormally strong. Not that of a mere ninja... but of someone who had taken the lives of countless enemies.

But far from being unsettled, he smiled again.

"Oh, little Arata... Don't worry. I won't do anything... to a good sensor like you," he said in a mocking tone.

He turned and walked away, but before disappearing into the shadows, I could feel it. He wasn't looking at me as an ally. He was looking at me as an experiment waiting to be dissected.

As Orochimaru entered his tent, his mind remained trapped in the encounter with that boy.

A three-tomoe Sharingan at such a young age... and a natural sensor, with jutsus without hand seals. It wasn't something you saw every day.

He smiled to himself, with that serpentine grin that so many found unsettling.

"Interesting... very interesting," he murmured, sinking into a chair, interlacing his fingers under his chin.

He remembered the intensity of his killing intent. It wasn't that of a mere prodigy ninja, no... It was more like someone who had been on the brink of death countless times, who had bathed their hands in blood without hesitation.

That only made his curiosity grow.

"Arata..." he whispered the name with a barely perceptible smile.

What intrigued him the most wasn't his power, but his attitude. Orochimaru knew the Uchiha well, their excessive pride, their thirst for recognition, their need to prove their superiority. But that boy...

He hid his power.

"You should never show your last card to others..." he repeated in a low voice, savoring those words.

That wasn't arrogance. It wasn't just a battle strategy. It was caution. Survival instinct.

"What kind of life has he led to think like that?"

He licked his lips. There was something about him, something that awakened his most obsessive side. He could feel it in his gut, in the way his mind was already weaving possibilities.

Experiments, tests, limits to discover... How far could his Sharingan go? How would he react if cornered? Could it... evolve even further?

His smile widened.

"I won't do anything... for now," he whispered to himself.

But he knew they would meet again in the future. And when they did, he wouldn't let such a rare specimen slip away.

The shadows seemed to embrace the trees, but inside me, the storm was palpable. Orochimaru had disappeared, but the sensation of his gaze persisted, cold, penetrating. I could feel his curiosity still swirling around me, like a snake lurking in the shadows. But that wasn't what worried me now. My wounds... and with my own power, I would heal myself.

The bandages on my body only irritated me, the pain continued to throb like a constant echo, but I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to recover, I needed to feel whole again.

"Kannonbiraki Benihime Aratame..." I murmured softly, and the whisper of the Mangekyō Sharingan's power resonated within me like an ancestral chant.

With my right eye closed, I focused. I felt the energy flow within me, that invisible force that seemed to take shape as my will shaped reality. The broken muscles, the cuts, and the bruises began to dissolve into the air, as if they were mere shadows, particles scattering around me.

I opened my eye, and the vision it granted me distorted for a moment. My wounds didn't disappear immediately, but they began to rebuild themselves, like pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly. The torn skin stretched and regenerated, the tissues reorganized. Every cell, every fiber of my body, rebuilt by my will. I felt like the architect of my own body, taking control of what had been destroyed.

The pain disappeared. My body came back to life, reconstructed as if a hand had done it.

Once healed, I stood up to be on guard.

It was still night when they called me.

The cold still seeped into my bones, but the mission wasn't over. Apparently, not all of them had died.

The Root ninja looked at me seriously.

"Uchiha Arata, tell me the number and rank of the ninjas you mentioned. We've counted thirty-three corpses, but one is missing."

I kept my composure.

"There were seven genins, nine jonins, and eighteen chunins."

The ninja frowned.

"Here we destroyed six genins..."

A tense silence formed between us until he understood what that meant.

"One genin is missing," he said coldly. "You'll have to go exterminate him."

I didn't argue. I nodded and disappeared into the darkness, moving as fast as possible. I closed my eyes for a moment and activated Vital Energy Detection. I didn't need chakra, just that connection with the energy of living beings. Like an invisible map in my mind, I felt his presence near the border with the Grass Village.

When I arrived, I saw him: a nine-year-old boy, barely conscious, covered in wounds. I could have killed him right then, but I thought of something better.

I approached slowly.

"Don't move, Iwa ninja."

The boy lifted his head with difficulty, his eyes filled with fury.

"You're one of those damned ones!"

I didn't let him keep talking. My fist hit his face with force, knocking him to the ground. Before he could react, I put my foot on his face and pressed.

"It seems the ninjas of Iwagakure don't think with their heads," I said with a mocking smile. "If you return, they'll kill you for being a coward."

He spat blood and looked at me with rage.

"They won't do that... I have these wounds..."

My smile widened.

"What wounds?"

I activated my Mangekyō Sharingan. My right eye glowed with power as Kannonbiraki Benihime Aratame activated. His torn flesh rebuilt itself before his very eyes, each wound closing as if it had never existed.

The boy gasped, horrified.

"If you return to your village, do you think they'll believe you when you say the enemy healed you?"

I pressed his head harder, making him believe I enjoyed his despair. He tried to break free, but he had no chance against me.

"L-let me go..."

I looked down and, in a voice as cold as steel, asked him:

"What's your name?"

He took a while to respond, but finally, with difficulty, he murmured:

"Kaelo..."

"Kaelo..." I repeated, letting the fear sink into his mind. "If I see you again, I'll torture and kill you until there's nothing left of you."

I kicked his head hard, leaving him unconscious. I dragged him to some bushes and hid him in the shadows.

Without looking back, I left for the base.