Reborn In The World Of Naruto

"Have you bid farewell to everyone?" Uchiha Jima asked, his tone calm but firm.

Ryuuji hesitated briefly before replying, "Yes, everyone except Shisui."

Jima's expression hardened, and his voice took on an authoritative edge. "I'm afraid you won't be able to meet him."

"Huh? Why not? Can't we just wait until he comes back and then leave?" Ryuuji asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. The thought of leaving without saying goodbye to Shisui left a hollow feeling in his chest. He had grown fond of Shisui as not just a fan of the original series but as someone who truly admires him.

"Time is precious, Ryuuji," Jima answered without hesitation. "We should not waste it."

"But…" Ryuuji's protest lingered in the air, his voice laced with disappointment. "I haven't bid him farewell yet."

Jima's tone shifted, sharper this time. "Enough, Ryuuji. We're leaving now, and that's final."

Ryuuji's shoulders sagged, his expression deflating as he swallowed his frustration. Seeing his grandson's visible dejection, Jima's stern exterior softened slightly, though his resolve remained firm.

"Fine," Jima relented, his voice quieting. "I have a few questions I need to ask you anyway. If Shisui returns before I finish, you may bid him farewell. If not, leave him a letter."

Ryuuji's face brightened instantly, relief flooding his features. "Hontou ni? You mean it?"

Jima nodded, his tone resolute. "Yes. But don't waste time."

"Thanks, Grandpa!" Ryuuji said, his mood lifting.

"Now," Jima said, his expression growing serious once more, "Let's begin."

Ryuuji straightened his posture, readying himself. "Ask away!"

Jima fixed his piercing gaze on Ryuuji, the air between them growing tense. "Are you willing to sacrifice your life in pursuit of strength?" he asked, his voice low and grave.

The question caught Ryuuji off guard. "Huh?" he stammered, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"I'll repeat," Jima said, enunciating every word. "Are you willing to sacrifice your life to grow stronger?"

The weight of the question hung in the air like a storm cloud, pressing down on Ryuuji's chest. His mind raced.

'Sacrifice my life?' he thought, the idea twisting his stomach into knots. 'What's the point of getting stronger if I'm not alive to use it?'

But then his thoughts sharpened. 'This is the shinobi world—where death is always one misstep away. Only the strong survive, and strength demands risks. If I refuse, I'm signing my own death warrant during the Uchiha Massacre. If I take this gamble… maybe, just maybe, I'll have a chance to save everyone I care about.'

Ryuuji's expression shifted from uncertainty to resolve. He met Jima's eyes, his voice steady and firm. "Yes, I am."

Jima studied him intently, his keen eyes searching for even the faintest hint of doubt. Satisfied with what he saw, he nodded slowly. "Good. Now for the next question." His tone grew darker, more foreboding. "Are you willing to kill your loved ones for strength?"

This time, Ryuuji didn't need to think. The answer came to him like a blazing flame in the darkness. "Never," he said, his voice ringing with conviction.

Once again, Jima scrutinized him, his silence stretching on until it became almost unbearable. Finally, he spoke. "Good job. You've passed."

Ryuuji blinked in surprise. "This… this was a test?"

"Yes," Jima replied simply.

"Why?" Ryuuji pressed, curiosity mingling with frustration.

"To see how far you're willing to go in your pursuit of strength," Jima said, his tone calm but firm.

"And what if I had failed?" Ryuuji asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

Jima's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "You didn't. So it doesn't matter."

"Now I really want to know," Ryuuji said, leaning forward.

"Don't sweat the details," Jima said, waving a dismissive hand. His tone turned brisk. "Now, Shisui hasn't returned, and we're running late. It's time to leave."

Ryuuji sighed, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "Fine… I'll just write him a letter."

He walked to the desk, picked up a brush, and began writing, the soft scratching of ink on parchment the only sound in the room. When he was done, he folded the letter neatly and placed it on the dining table.

"Are you ready?" Jima asked, his voice cutting through the silence.

Ryuuji turned to face him. "Yeah. Let's go."

Jima nodded approvingly. Then, as if remembering something, Ryuuji tilted his head. "Grandpa, did you get the Hokage's permission for this?"

Jima scoffed, his expression twisting into one of disdain. "Why would I need that little shit's permission to leave?"

"'Little shit'?" Ryuuji repeated, blinking in shock. 'He's talking about the Third Hokage! Damn, he's got guts! Well, he isn't wrong. But, just how old is Grandpa to call the Hokage a 'little shit'?'

"Well," Ryuuji continued cautiously, "Doesn't every shinobi need permission to leave the village?"

"You ask too many questions," Jima grumbled. "Come here."

Ryuuji stepped closer, and Jima bent down, placing a firm hand on his grandson's shoulder.

"Let's go," Jima said.

"Huh? What do you—" Before Ryuuji could finish his sentence, the scenery around him shifted in an instant. One moment, they were inside the Uchiha compound; the next, they stood in an open field, stretching endlessly in every direction. The ground was covered in lush, green grass that swayed gently in the wind.

Ryuuji turned in a slow circle, his mouth agape. "Where… where is this?" he muttered.

"This is where your training begins," Jima said, his voice as calm as if they'd just strolled into a backyard.

Ryuuji whipped around to face him, disbelief etched into his features. "H-how? How did we get here? I thought we'd travel on foot!"

Jima raised an eyebrow. "On foot? Are you insane? That would've taken weeks."

"Then how—" Ryuuji began but stopped himself. He already knew the answer. "It was… fuinjutsu, wasn't it?"

'If it's Fuinjutsu on such a high level there can only be one and that is...'

Jima smirked. "Exactly. A technique far beyond your current understanding. It's called the Flying Thunder God Technique."

Ryuuji's eyes widened in recognition. "Flying Thunder God? The technique created by Tobirama Senju…"

"Yes," Jima said, his voice dripping with disdain as he added, "Tobirama Senju, the so-called genius who couldn't see past his own prejudice. A King of Discrimination, if you ask me."

"Don't worry. I'll teach you everything I can, including the Flying Thunder God Technique." Uchiha Jima said.