Chapter Text
Konoha Village
Inside a modest room, a boy sat cross-legged on the floor. Loose strands of black hair clung to his forehead.
His eyes were shut in deep concentration, hands fixed in the Ram seal as he refined chakra.
Minutes slipped by. Beads of sweat rolled down his temple, and faint wisps of blue energy could be seen leaking from his skin—a sign of insufficient chakra control.
An hour later, his eyes opened. Pitch-black pupils glinted in the dim evening light, carrying a maturity far beyond his age.
“It seems this is the limit of what I can control for now,” Obito muttered, letting out a low breath as he felt the chakra in his body.
It felt quite abundant—at least five times as much as the original Obito had. Precisely for this reason, he dared not refine it to the limit of his reserves, or he might not be able to control it.
At a thought, a shimmering blue display unfolded within his consciousness.
...
Name: Uchiha Obito
Age: 7
Physique: 6
Spirit: 10
Bloodline: Sharingan (One Tomoe)
Chakra: 2504/5015—>5016
SKILLS
Chakra Refining: Beginner (22/100)
Chakra Control: Beginner (19/100) —> Beginner (20/100)
Cloning technique: Beginner (98/100)
Substitution Technique: Intermidate (1/500)
Transformation Technique: Intermediate (2/100)
Ninja tools: Beginner (11/100)
Taijutsu: Beginner (16/100)
Hand seals: Beginner (30/100)
...
His gaze lingered on the chakra bar. Noticing that the upper limit had only increased by one point since morning, a hint of relief washed over his face. “So, the burst period is almost over…”
He had been treading on thin ice ever since his crossing over a month ago. Back then, perhaps his soul and body had been out of sync. He had fallen into a coma and spent half a month in Konoha Hospital before regaining consciousness.
When he finally pieced together the fragments of memory inherited from this body, he was left absolutely stunned.
He had transmigrated into the world of Naruto. Even worse, into the body of a seven-year-old Uchiha Obito who had just started attending the Ninja Academy!
Moreover, he discovered that he had a system. Although it was a stripped-down version that only displayed his stats and skills, it could still be considered a small golden finger.
Transmigrating into an anime world with a system—wasn’t that a common trope in fanfictions? How did it suddenly happen to him?
As a reclusive software developer in his previous life, he had naturally watched the Naruto series—one of the most popular anime and manga of its time—and was, of course, familiar with Uchiha Obito: the kind-hearted fool who dreamed of becoming Hokage, only to be twisted by Madara into a puppet chasing peace through illusion.
He was the masked man who drowned the world in blood and darkness. Only at the very end did he realize his mistakes, seeking redemption by entrusting everything to Naruto and fighting against Kaguya.
The irony was bitter. To be thrown into his body, of all people. And as if fate wasn’t cruel enough, his problems didn’t just end there.
The fusion of physical and spiritual energy produced chakra. For most shinobi, one side tended to be slightly stronger than the other, but the difference was minor and barely noticeable—except for those with special bloodlines.
Due to his transmigration, his spiritual energy had multiplied several times over, leaving his physical energy far behind. He didn’t know if this was even possible, but it was also reflected on his status panel.
His chakra had also entered a burst period, which should have been a good thing—until it wasn’t. It turned out that not all chakra was good chakra, at least not the kind his body produced.
It contained too much spiritual energy, and even for an Uchiha—who naturally leaned toward spiritual energy—it was overwhelming.
For the past month, he had lived on edge—suppressing, stabilizing, and taming the flood of yin chakra before it tore his body apart. Only now had his condition stabilized to some extent.
During this time, his heart had also regained some of its original calm, and he began to think more rationally.
Transmigrating as Obito wasn’t pleasant—but it could have been worse. He could have been dropped into the body of some nameless orphan, destined to die in an alleyway. At least Obito had talent, the backing of the Uchiha clan, and a grandmother who cared for him.
More importantly, he had knowledge of the future. If he played his cards right, his fate might not necessarily follow the tragic path of the original.
Right now, there was only one thing to do: cultivate strength diligently.
It was Year 46 of Konoha—the eve of the Third Great Ninja War.
He was still in his first year at the academy. In the original story, it wasn’t clear exactly when Minato’s team was sent to the front lines, only that it was after they had advanced to chūnin.
But one thing was certain: if he entered that war too weak, he would die long before Madara ever sought him out.
The increase in spiritual energy had brought him a lot of trouble, but it wasn’t without benefits. His chakra reserves were growing rapidly, and as an outlet to release chakra, his ninjutsu proficiency had also risen quickly.
The Transformation and Substitution Techniques had already reached the intermediate tier, while the Clone Technique lagged just slightly behind.
After a glance at his panel, he dismissed it and sat straighter. It was time to push the Clone Technique through.
Mobilizing the chakra in his body, he snapped into the sequence of hand seals—Ram, Snake, Tiger—his fingers flowing with practiced precision.
A month of repetition had carved the movements into muscle memory; he could now complete the set in little more than a second.
Whoosh.
A soft puff of smoke rose beside him, and when it cleared, a clone sat cross-legged, mirroring his posture.
Obito turned toward it, eyes narrowing in scrutiny.
Perhaps due to his increased spiritual energy, his perception had sharpened—so much so that even without opening the Sharingan, his vision was unnaturally clear.
Every detail of the clone stood out to him, down to the strands of hair brushing its forehead.
Although it looked identical to him at first glance, the more he studied it, the more flaws it revealed.
The hair was a shade duller. The skin slightly rough and dry. The eyes were fractionally larger than his own, the nose subtly off in shape, and the brows thinner than they should have been.
He memorized every imperfection, then released the clone in a wisp of smoke, and his hands flashed through the seals again.
Again.
And again.
Seconds stretched into minutes. The quiet room echoed with soft pops every few moments.
An hour later, Obito’s body was drenched in sweat. His hands moved automatically, seals snapping together as he drew on the last bit of his chakra.
Whoosh.
The clone appeared with a crisp pop. Its features were sharp, skin tone natural, eyes almost identical to his own.
When he raised his hand, the clone mirrored the gesture perfectly.
For an instant, Obito felt as though he were looking into a mirror.
He let the copy dissolve into mist and exhaled. His fingers still tingled from the repeated seals, and his chakra was nearly depleted—but a small smile tugged at his lips.
With a thought, the panel shimmered into view. He focused on the skill section, and as expected, the Clone Technique had advanced by a tier.
Clone Technique: Beginner (94/100) —> Intermediate (1/500)
All three basic body techniques—Clone, Substitution, and Transformation—had reached the intermediate level. That meant he could now perform each of them without error and with decent speed.
In terms of ninjutsu, at least, it could be said that he had left most of his peers at the academy far behind, because the academy was still teaching theoretical knowledge of chakra and wouldn’t begin teaching ninjutsu until the next academic year.
Closing the panel, Obito leaned back on his hands, pondering the next step in his training.
“Obito! Dinner’s ready!” The soft, aged voice drifted up from downstairs.
“Coming, Grandma!” Obito called back. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, then stood up and headed down the narrow wooden stairs.