Naruto: Reborn as Kakuzu, the Immortal Assassin

The birds in the sky chirped merrily, flitting from branch to branch before settling back down. Their cheerful melodies echoed, and their lively eyes observed the passersby below. The gathering in the Uchiha compound had finally dispersed.

"Clan leader, why did you let them leave so easily?" Uchiha Akira's voice carried a mix of frustration and anger as he looked at Uchiha Madara. However, Madara simply stood silently, arms crossed, gazing out at the tranquil waters of the Naka River.

"Why? Why? Clan leader, that Senju Tobirama—what right does he have to strut around like he owns our land?" Akira demanded again, his voice rising with each word. But Madara remained silent, his eyes fixed on the rippling surface of the river.

Akira, however, wasn't one to give up easily. Like a stubborn ox, he refused to back down.

"Ever since we came to Konohagakure, the Uchiha clan has lost its former glory. I don't even understand why we founded this village in the first place—"

"Enough!" Madara's roar cut through the air, loud and commanding, leaving Akira stumbling back in shock. Swallowing hard, Akira stared at his leader in disbelief. It had been a long time since he had seen Madara lose his temper.

When Madara turned to face him, the tomoe in his Sharingan spun, transforming into the intricate design of the Mangekyō Sharingan. The subtle shift alone was enough to make Akira's blood run cold. He knew then that Madara's anger was genuine. Lowering his head immediately, Akira didn't dare utter another word, silently awaiting judgment.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly before the sound of Madara's retreating footsteps reached Akira's ears.

"Go back," Madara said, his voice distant. When Akira finally lifted his gaze, Madara's figure was already a shadow, growing smaller with every step. The elongated silhouette painted a picture of profound loneliness and isolation.

Akira was young, one of the clan's more passionate members, and a devoted follower of Madara. His youthful fervor often made him reckless, nostalgic for the warring states era. Madara couldn't entirely fault him for feeling this way.

As Madara walked away, his expression hardened. His eyes drifted upward to the Hokage Rock, visible even from here. Once, he and Hashirama Senju had stood atop that cliff, vowing to create a brighter future for the land. They had dreamed of founding a village that would end the endless cycle of bloodshed and chaos.

Now, Konohagakure stood as a testament to their dream. "Peace" had seemingly taken root. Negotiations replaced battles, treaties replaced blades. It was a world that, on the surface, appeared exactly as Madara had envisioned. Yet, there was one thing he had never anticipated.

At the village's founding, when the clans gathered to vote, almost everyone had chosen Hashirama to be the Hokage. The man who had built the village alongside him, who had stood as his equal in power, was all but forgotten.

Even when it came to appointments for other positions of authority, the majority of the clans sided with the Senju. Tobirama, Hashirama's brother, was deemed the most suitable candidate for Hokage's assistant. Madara's name had been left out entirely.

This wasn't due to a lack of respect. On the contrary, Madara's name carried immense weight. To many, he was a symbol of unparalleled strength, much like Hashirama. But while Hashirama's kindness and unwavering vision for peace earned admiration, Madara's stern demeanor and ever-present scowl created a barrier.

In times of war, such traits were invaluable, inspiring awe and fear in equal measure. But in this new era of peace, they made Madara an outsider.

A long, heavy sigh escaped his lips as his footsteps echoed in the quiet streets. His Mangekyō Sharingan faded, his eyes returning to their natural state.

Madara knew the truth. If he humbled himself and sought common ground with the other clans, perhaps things would change. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. The pride that coursed through his veins, the pride of the Uchiha, wouldn't allow it.

The Uchiha were a proud clan, often difficult for others to approach. Since the founding of the village, many had commented on the challenges of dealing with them. Madara, now older, had a heart that held space only for a select few: his family, his clan, and his old friend Hashirama.

This impasse seemed insurmountable. It wasn't something that could be broken or untangled. It was the dilemma that defined Madara's existence.

Despite it all, Madara cherished peace. The memory of his brother Izuna dying in his arms still haunted him, a reminder of the horrors of the warring era. This made him treasure the fragile peace they had achieved, even if it wasn't the peace he had dreamed of.

The streets grew quieter as the night deepened. The silhouette of Madara, proud and unyielding, stretched long against the ground. From above, it was clear—he stood apart from the world around him, a man caught between his ideals and the reality of the world he had helped shape.

From afar, a sharp gaze cut through the distance.

"Senju Tobirama, you've finally used your Flying Thunder God Technique correctly for once."

"Spare me the sarcasm." Tobirama handed a document to Kakuzu, his tone curt. "Here's your new appointment letter. Just say yes or no."

Kakuzu unfolded the document, his eyes scanning its contents. Sure enough, it was an official letter of appointment, complete with the Hokage's seal. The message was simple: they wanted him to take up a position as an assistant in the biological research lab.

"Heh. This seal—this isn't the Hokage's doing, is it?"

Tobirama closed his eyes, choosing silence over an answer. His lack of response spoke volumes.

Kakuzu's lips curled into a faint smirk, but he didn't press further. Instead, he raised another question.

"Why me?"

Tobirama lowered his crossed arms, opening his eyes slowly to meet Kakuzu's gaze. He studied him for a few moments, knowing full well that platitudes like "for the sake of the village" or "for Konoha's future" wouldn't sway a man like Kakuzu. No, honesty was his best bet here.

"You're not 'of Konoha.'"

"I see."

The statement was simple yet carried weight. Tobirama wasn't referring to Kakuzu's residency but rather his lack of deep roots in Konoha. He wasn't tied to any of the major clans, nor was he burdened by the politics and history that came with them. That made him a useful asset—someone who could act without overthinking alliances or consequences.

"And," Tobirama added, "you're bold. You're not afraid to experiment with unconventional ideas."

Kakuzu chuckled dryly, turning slightly away from Tobirama. After a moment of silence, he posed a final question.

"What's in it for me?"

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Pls Drop some Power Stones

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