Akira originally had grand intentions of building a strong relationship with Orochimaru, hoping to gradually earn his trust. His ultimate goal? To uncover the secrets surrounding the First Hokage's cells. If he could get close enough, perhaps he could extract a sample and cultivate it for his own purposes.
But time revealed the truth. Orochimaru, ever the cautious and calculating serpent, had no intention of revealing such precious knowledge. His eyes, always gleaming with unfathomable ambition, never once hinted at sharing the secrets of his experiments. Akira, sharp as ever, saw through the veil—Orochimaru viewed the First Hokage's cells as a treasure far too valuable to risk, not even for his prized student.
So Akira changed course.
If Orochimaru would not offer the keys to his secrets, then Akira would stop investing in a fruitless endeavor. Besides, getting too close to Orochimaru risked staining Akira's pristine reputation in Konoha. He was, after all, the radiant prodigy known as "Konoha's Lightning Flash." He couldn't afford to appear entangled in Orochimaru's darker obsessions.
But then Yakushi Kabuto appeared.
A boy with sharp intelligence and unnerving precision, Kabuto had caught the attention of many for his skill in medical ninjutsu. When Akira first laid eyes on him, he didn't just see a boy with potential—he saw an opportunity.
Akira knew Orochimaru well. If he backed away, the Sannin would inevitably seek a replacement, someone to mold in his image. Kabuto was a perfect candidate, and Akira, with a mind always thinking twelve steps ahead, realized he could exploit this.
He hadn't yet used his Mangekyo Sharingan abilities. There had simply been no worthy targets, no moments that demanded such power. One ability allowed him to absorb the talents of others. The other, far more insidious, allowed him to implant his own will into another's body—creating a perfect clone.
Until now, it had all been theory.
But Kabuto... Kabuto was different. Still young, unshaped, unknown to the world. If Akira implanted part of himself into Kabuto, he could create a second identity—a shadow self that could move in the darkness while Akira continued to shine in the light.
Orochimaru would take the bait. He always did.
While Akira remained the golden boy of Konoha, the version of Kabuto bearing his mind could infiltrate Orochimaru's world, learn his secrets, and even manipulate the future.
In his heart, Akira convinced himself this was mercy. Kabuto, after all, was fated to suffer. In the original timeline, he would lose his identity, murder the woman who raised him, and drown in madness. Akira believed he was freeing Kabuto from that fate, ending his tragedy before it began.
That night, the sky was veiled in thick, unmoving clouds. No moonlight. No stars.
The perfect night for a rebirth.
Akira had already scouted Kabuto's location—he was sleeping peacefully in Nonou's tent with several other orphans. Nonou, the ever-watchful shrine maiden, had no idea what was about to unfold.
A shadow clone crept silently into the tent. None stirred. Nonou's reputation was built on her kindness and intellect, not battle readiness. If anything went awry, Akira was confident he could subdue her with a single glance.
Moments later, Akira used Flying Thunder God to appear beside the sleeping Kabuto.
He knelt. Observed. The boy looked harmless, soft breaths rising and falling rhythmically. So innocent, and yet destined for such darkness.
Akira opened Kabuto's eyelids gently, holding his hand ready to silence any outcry. He whispered the words, almost like a lullaby:
"Impure World Reincarnation."
Pain surged through Akira's body. His Mangekyo spun violently, blood tears streaking down his cheeks. He felt something in him split—a fragment of his soul, his consciousness—detaching, pulled into Kabuto.
There was no resistance. Kabuto's fragmented mind, dulled by amnesia and trauma, offered no defense.
A few seconds passed.
Then Kabuto stirred. His eyes fluttered open, and Akira was met not with confusion, but with crimson irises, three tomoe gleaming in the darkness.
Kabuto—the new Kabuto—blinked slowly. A calm awareness radiated from him. He sat up without a word, gazing at Akira with eyes that now reflected his will.
The clone nodded, vanishing.
Akira stood and looked at his creation. In this body, his other self would walk the path Orochimaru offered. He would act as the double agent Akira could never be under his true name. From the shadows, he would learn, grow, and if needed, strike.
A smirk tugged at the corners of Akira's lips.
"Welcome to the world... Kabuto."
He disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind only the whisper of ambition.
When Akira absorbed the chakra of Uchiha Kawa, he inherited not only Kawa's chakra but all of his abilities. Yet, to his mild disappointment, some of those powers overlapped with what he already possessed: an ordinary Sharingan and elemental chakra transformations.
Uchiha Kawa had been particularly attuned to Fire, Earth, and Lightning chakra natures. Fire Release was his strongest, followed by Earth, while Lightning was his weakest. After absorbing him, Akira assessed his own chakra composition and discovered he now wielded Fire, Lightning, Water, and Earth. His Fire Release remained dominant, but Lightning had unexpectedly risen, rivaling even his fire techniques. Water and Earth came next, almost equal in strength.
This puzzled Akira.
He speculated that Uchiha Nan—his original self—must have possessed Fire, Lightning, and Water chakra natures. Earth and Water, being unique to each counterpart, stayed as they were. But it was the surge in Lightning that stood out. If both Akira and Kawa were elite Uchiha with Fire at their core, then Lightning shouldn't be this powerful.
He reasoned that he might be facing a natural ceiling—the human limit for elemental chakra control. His Fire Release talent, now a fusion of two Uchiha prodigies, likely hit this ceiling. Any further enhancement was redundant. But perhaps his Lightning Release, while already formidable, hadn't reached its peak and thus benefited more from the fusion.
The same went for the Sharingan.
Both Uchiha Nan and Kawa had awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan. When their dojutsu merged, Akira's Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan was born. The power of their base Sharingan also experienced an enormous leap. While Akira's genjutsu skill had always been mediocre on paper, his success rate in using it was astonishingly high. This was due in part to his mental fortitude, but mostly to the overwhelming force of his dojutsu.
With this in mind, Akira devised a plan: to transfer some of this overflowing power to Yakushi Kabuto, his latest vessel.
During the act of reincarnation, he began siphoning portions of his Sharingan's dojutsu and Fire Release potential into Kabuto. He was cautious, monitoring his own state in real-time. If any major dip in strength was detected, he would stop immediately.
Fire Release was easier to let go. It was just talent, after all. Akira was already a seasoned Jōnin; even if his training slowed slightly, he could make up for it later. What mattered was laying the groundwork for Kabuto.
When Kabuto opened his eyes and revealed the three-tomoe Sharingan, Akira's heart swelled with satisfaction. The ritual had succeeded. He gauged his own dojutsu and found only the slightest drop in power—acceptable.
Now, two bodies existed under Akira's control.
The sensation was extraordinary. They weren't two separate selves; they were one mind in two vessels. No need to micromanage both at once. Each body had its own brain, processing in parallel. The process didn't mimic conventional clones from novels he once read in his past life—it was more elegant, more seamless.
It was assimilation.
His first clone, an unintended reincarnation into a tree, had hinted at this potential. Though the tree couldn't think, it granted Akira incredible sensory perception. From afar, he could track everything in Konoha through that tree. The link, likely quantum in nature, was instantaneous and unbreakable.
The same bond now existed between him and Kabuto.
As the two vessels locked eyes, Akira marveled at the clarity of perception from Kabuto's perspective. Something felt… sharper. The Sharingan, while strong in both, seemed clearer in Kabuto's eyes.
Perplexed, Akira tested it. Through Kabuto, he lifted the tent flap and peered into the night—but he couldn't see far.
That made no sense. The Sharingan outclassed normal vision. Yet here, Kabuto's vision was blurry beyond five meters. The answer dawned on him.
Myopia.
Kabuto had terrible eyesight.
Putting on the boy's glasses resolved the problem instantly. Objects became sharp, though smaller—something the Sharingan adjusted for with ease.
Akira chuckled to himself.
How ironic. The Uchiha clan, known for their impeccable visual prowess, had now unwittingly welcomed their first nearsighted member.
This wasn't entirely without precedent. Sarada, in the Boruto timeline, had similar vision issues due to overuse and genetics. But Kabuto? It was purely biological. Akira remembered his own past life, hunched over books and screens, developing high myopia. The laws of optics remained cruelly consistent even in this world.
Even as his Sharingan infused Kabuto, the reincarnation process had respected the biological constraints of the host. It adjusted chakra pathways and ocular capacity, but couldn't correct the physical elongation of the eyeballs. The result was a Sharingan that functioned at full power—provided the host remembered his glasses.
Akira looked upon Kabuto's vessel with a faint smile. Here was a loyal clone, a perfect agent in the shadows. One who could approach Orochimaru, learn from him, and never betray Akira.
And perhaps, one day, be upgraded.
"Welcome," Akira murmured, gazing into Kabuto's three-tomoe eyes. "To the Uchiha clan—nearsighted and all."
The world would never see it coming.