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5.97% Naruto: Faint Smile. / Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Uchiha Itachi, but tiny.

Chương 4: Chapter 4: Uchiha Itachi, but tiny.

Author Note: Nothing of importance, just enjoy the chapter, and if you have any questions, make sure to comment!

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It had been roughly three years since I'd been reincarnated. By now, I could naturally talk and walk without a problem.

I had also learned how to read, because it was that or going crazy, seeing the amount of things my new parents would allow me to partake in was heavily limited, leaving a big chunk of space I desperately needed to fill—therefore, reading.

I had learned a lot by reading.

A lot about the Shinobi World, a lot about chakra, a lot about shinobi.

Nothing too in-depth, seeing the books I could get my hands on were… civilian books, but enough to give me a general idea of the world I now lived in.

I was particularly fascinated by the history of Konoha. A thought that never crosses people's minds when watching the anime is… how young Konoha is for a nation. To put it into perspective, my grandfather met the First Hokage, and the man isn't even in his seventies.

The First Hokage had died only a little over 30 years ago, which, sure, is a considerable amount of time, but it's like saying Abraham Lincoln was shot 30 something years ago in our world. It's mind-boggling to think about.1

Then there's the fact that this world experienced two World Wars in the span of twenty years. Twenty years! In just two decades, the Shinobi World had been shattered and rebuilt, not once but twice. The number of casualties was staggering, each name etched into the memorial stone a grim reminder of the price we had paid in blood and sorrow. The pattern of violence and chaos seemed to be woven so deeply into the fabric of this accursed world that it was difficult to imagine a time of peace.

It was an unnerving thought for a child to have, but I was no ordinary child, was I?

I couldn't help but wonder how Naruto managed to bring this chaotic world into the realm of peace.

I had lost so many memories that I could barely remember anything about Naruto, or about my past life for that matter. That being said, I reckon I remembered enough to guide me through the first arc of the series, which was useless seeing Shippuden was where the real lore was.

I sighed.

I could always try to guess how Naruto managed to push this world into peace.

Maybe he trapped everyone in a happy genjutsu, and end of story?

I chuckled at the thought. Naruto making genjutsus—that's something I don't need my memories to know it's impossible.

But enough about that. There was only so much I could deduce from fragmented knowledge.

Besides, chances were I wasn't even going to interact with the timeline as I originally imagined. Why? Well, by now I had all but confirmed I had been reincarnated before the main cast was even born. By how much? No idea, but seeing the Third Hokage was… well, still the Hokage, and there wasn't a thing like the Fourth Hokage yet, it was safe to surmise that I had a head start. A significant one at that, unless time in this world worked differently, or my calculations were off.

The thought was sobering though.

More time meant more room for growth before things started to go south.

"Takeshi, sweetie," my mother's voice wafted through the thin paper walls of our home as she walked into my room. "Your father and I thought you might enjoy an afternoon in the park playing with the other kids."

I would rather not.

The park meant kids, and kids meant me having murderous thoughts. Kids were annoying, dirty, and all in all, a total waste of space and time. I would rather enjoy my afternoon reading with a cup of juice… but I knew how these two were, and while I knew they were absolutely proud of the fact that I was shaping up to be a prodigy, as they called me, I also knew they were worried about the fact I had no friends.

I sighed. "Sure, sounds delightful."

I pushed myself off the wooden floor, placing the book I'd been engrossed in aside. It wasn't a particularly interesting book, just a generic story with predictable plot twists and shallow characters. But again… it was infinitely better than facing the unpredictability of children.

"Wonderful," Mother beamed, clapping her hands together in delight. "I'll pack you a snack."

A snack, you say? Well now the benefit-to-cost ratio of this adventure is rising. "And some cookies?" I ventured, my eyes brightening at the prospect.

Mother chuckled, ruffling my hair affectionately. "Of course, darling." She said, a warm note of relief seeping into her voice.

--------------------------------------

The park was as I remembered, vibrant and full of life. Children's laughter echoed throughout, mingling with the rustle of leaves in the wind. A group of kids were playing ninja, their tiny feet pattering against the sand while others were engaged in a mock fight. A few parents watched on, their faces lit with fond amusement.

With a resigned sigh, I seated myself at the fringe of the playground, watching the other children cavort with wistful detachment. Their innocent merriment was so far removed from my own reality, it was almost like observing another species. But I reminded myself this was precisely why my parents had encouraged this… to socialize.

Couldn't they be content with the fact that I wasn't out there killing pets or something?

I sighed again.

I might as well get this over with. The sooner I engage in this mission, the sooner I'll be able to retreat back to my solitary haven. Besides, I owe it to my mother to try. I mean, I had taken the payment of snacks and cookies for this, so it was my duty to fulfill the mission to the best of my abilities.

So, I donned my best smile, the one that didn't show too much of my reluctance, and ambled over to the gaggle of children playing ninjas. They were circled around two boys, eagerly engaged in a mock battle of throwing sand and sticks while mimicking martial arts moves they'd probably seen from their parents.

"Hi," I greeted, injecting as much warmth as I could muster into the single syllable. The circle of children paused, their energetic chatter dwindling off. The boys in the center halted their pretend battle and all heads swiveled to look at me.

One of the boys, the taller one with a shock of orange hair and freckles, squinted at me suspiciously. "Who are you?" he asked, his tone challenging.

Well isn't he a ray of sunshine.

"Arata Takeshi," I replied coolly, brushing away a stray lock of hair from my forehead.

"How old are you? You are tiny, like a midget," the kid snickered, his eyes darting to his comrades for shared amusement.

Well, fuck you, buddy.

"I'm three and a half. I'm supposed to be tiny," I replied, with a faint smile. "I came to play." The statement seemed to hang uncomfortably in the air for a moment, their young faces studying me with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

The freckled boy laughed again, a grating sound that was swiftly picked up by his sidekicks. "Play? Why would we play with a baby?"

I'm asking myself the same question.

Oh wait, right… my mother bribed me to come here and play.

"You're too young to even know what a real ninja is, unlike us!" one of the… I don't know, background characters added with a prideful smile.

"Am I now?" I replied, a faint smile gracing my face.

I wonder if giving up at this point would count as me trying to actually socialize. Some lawyers might argue in my favor.

"He can play the bad guy," one of the background characters suggested, a toothy grin on his face as he nudged the freckled boy.

I didn't miss the implications of their words. In their play, the bad guy always got defeated at the end. Meaning they wanted me to play the part of the punch bag. How adorably cruel of them. I could deny such a request, but… sometimes the best strategy was to play along until you found a gap in the enemy's defenses, or at least that's what my book on simple ninja tactics says.

"Why not?" I shrugged nonchalantly. "I can be the bad guy. It sounds fun."

The freckled boy's grin widened. He strutted up to me, puffing out his chest in an exaggerated display of bravado. "You are now our enemy, baby," he declared, pointing a chubby finger at my chest, his other hand holding a stick.

"That much was already established," I replied, standing still as the circle of kids began to close in around me. They brandished their sticks and assumed exaggerated fighting stances, clearly excited to have a new "bad guy" to defeat.

The freckled boy took the lead, charging at me with his stick held high. He swung it down, but I sidestepped effortlessly, watching as he stumbled forward, off balance. Another kid lunged at me from the side, but I ducked under his wild swing.

Their movements were so painfully obvious that I didn't even need to see the flow of their chakra.

One by one, the kids tried to tag me, their movements clumsy and uncoordinated. I dodged them all with ease, almost as if we were dancing. They laughed and shouted, their attacks becoming more frantic as they realized they couldn't land a single hit.

"He's fast!" one of the boys exclaimed, panting as he tried to catch his breath.

The freckled boy scowled, clearly frustrated. "Come on, guys! We can't let him win!" He rallied his friends for another assault, but I continued to evade them, with little to no difficulty.

I couldn't help but feel a small thrill of satisfaction. Sure, I was humiliating kids, but hey, simple pleasures, simple joys. And besides, I was smaller than them, so... kudos to me.

"This is starting to get sad," I teased, ducking under a high swing and tapping the freckled boy on the head as I slipped past him. "I thought the good guys were supposed to win."

The kids redoubled their efforts, but it was no use. I weaved through their attacks, sidestepping and dodging with a grace that made them look slow and lumbering. It was almost comical how easily I could predict their movements.

Soon, their playful shouts turned into frustrated grumbles. They were tiring themselves out, their attacks becoming slower with each passing minute. Their faces were flushed red from the exertion and one by one, they began to give up, huffing in defeat.

"You cheated!" the freckled boy shouted, his face red, before running away to whom I assumed was his mother.

"Did I?" I muttered to myself, a small smirk playing on my lips. I suppose in their eyes I had, after all, how else had a toddler humiliated them so much?

"Your skills are commendable," a soft voice echoed behind me. A new figure emerged from the shadows of a nearby tree, his onyx eyes holding an intense gaze that immediately captured my attention. He was around the same age as me, but he carried an air of maturity that was noticeably absent in the others.

"Thank you," I responded, turning to face him fully. His dark hair hung loosely around his face, shadowing his eyes slightly. He seemed different from the rest, not just in the way he carried himself, but in the way he observed and analyzed.

"I am Arata Takeshi," I introduced myself.

"Uchiha Itachi," the mysterious kid replied, inclining his head slightly in a respectful nod.

I guess this answers when exactly in the timeline I am.

On that thought... You know, he's not what I expected for a cold-blooded murderer who is destined to eliminate his own clan for no other reason than testing his own might.

  1. If consider year 0 when the village was founded. It's easy to conclude Hashirama died around three decades after that event. How you ask?
    Hashirama's death, can be deduced by Tsunade's memory, in (Chapter 619) she looks no older than five. And it's stated in First Data Book, "At the same time the village began to flourish, Hashirama lost his life.

    Taking that into account, and the wars that followed after he was death, well we can get an idea of when he died. Not an accurate one, but accurate enough.

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