How to Survive as an Uchiha

"Our eyes see all, but our scrolls preserve forever." This ancient wisdom guided the Uchiha clan for generations. Among all ninja clans, they were one of the few who systematically maintained archives of ninjutsu.

The advanced Sharingan could decipher most ninjutsu, but its users were still limited by their physical abilities. Even if they can analyze a technique, it didn't mean they could perform it.

By recording these techniques in books, they passed them on to future generations, strengthening the clan in the long term.

This tradition allowed the Uchiha to develop their mastery of fire jutsu, shuriken control, and genjutsu to an unparalleled level. Power wasn't just in the eyes, but in the accumulated wisdom of generations.

During the Warring States period, Uchiha archives were often destroyed as they relocated, yet each time, they rebuilt the archives without fail.

"Even if we fall, our knowledge must survive," the clan elders would say, meticulously recopying damaged scrolls.

After the founding of Konoha, the Uchiha's residence finally stabilized. Over decades, their archive collection became one of the most comprehensive and detailed in the shinobi world, ranking among the top three—even counting the Five Great Nations' libraries.

When Masashi used Tobirama's water jutsu, most in the clan thought, "He must really like water jutsu!" after discovering it in the archives.

Even the wood jutsu of Hashirama has been documented by the Uchiha. Madara, with his unparalleled ocular power, analyzed all of Hashirama's techniques. Though he couldn't use them himself, he was a devoted clan leader, committed to leaving behind his knowledge and understanding for future generations.

Alongside the jutsu records, he added his insights, hypothesizing potential developments for others to explore their own ideal jutsu paths.

Masashi felt gratitude for this legacy, knowing that even after experiencing this world a second time, he wouldn't have mastered some techniques without Madara's contributions.

Playing Madara? Let's see how long you can keep this act up.

As he looked at Obito, he felt genuine embarrassment on his behalf. Especially since the guy kept insisting on his act.

"Kid, you know a thing or two, but you're still pretty shallow," Obito continued to pose as if saying: I'm your ancestor.

"The mystery of the Mangekyō is beyond your comprehension."

"Are you really holding out with just this much power?" Masashi asked, his Sharingan spinning lazily.

"Every Mangekyō pair is synchronized. When you use it, Kakashi's eye changes, too. It may not display the full Mangekyō pattern, but it's enough to reveal who you are, Obito."

"Obito? Is that someone important to you? Shame. I've never heard of him," Obito replied in an impassive tone, with a hint of impatience. His hand twitched slightly.

"You're lost in the past, seeing ghosts where there are none. How disappointing."

If he weren't masked, his face would've shown a wide range of expressions right now. The mask was ugly, yes, but it shielded his identity from all forms of detection—even the highest-level Byakugan couldn't see his face through it.

But Obito was too distracted to care about that right now because…

He! Had! Been! Identified!

How could he know?

Doubting that he was Madara was one thing; even if they had concrete proof that he wasn't, he could always deflect with a grandiose "Names mean nothing," increasing his mystery. But this guy had called him by name.

And with solid reasoning.

How could he have read all those dusty clan records in our archives? All our family history? And what about the ninjutsu scrolls?

No. I need to stay calm. I'm not that person anymore.

I'm Madara now.

The past is dead. No one will see beneath this mask—especially not this bastard. He'll just be another pawn. And after him... Shisui is next.

"Seems you're thickheaded," Obito suppressed a rising impulse within himself—not entirely unrelated to his long-held desire to punch Masashi. "Let's see if your power matches your brain."

"Getting cocky just because you've got the Mangekyō, huh, Obito?" Masashi's eyes flashed with the three-tomoe Sharingan.

"Don't think you can do whatever you want with just one eye. I'll find out what happened to you and have a nice little chat."

Obito ignored him. Nothing could shake his resolve any further. Besides, with his Mangekyō, even with one eye, he could do as he pleased.

Both moved simultaneously, using the same technique.

White smoke billowed from the activating seals, and waves of shuriken shot from the smoke, crashing midair with the sound of taut wires being pulled.

Two figures shifted positions rapidly, occasionally clashing and sending sparks flying. Each movement was calculated, neither willing to waste energy on flashy displays.

Before their fight started, Zetsu had retreated to a safe distance, watching them from afar and pondering quietly.

Something's off with Obito lately, he thought. Our original plan to target potential Mangekyō users in the Uchiha clan is practically exposed now. And this Uchiha... could he be someone he once valued as a comrade?

"It's been a while since we sparred; you've really mastered shuriken techniques," Masashi commented, breaking yet another round of shuriken against Obito's.

"But wearing that thing must make fire jutsu harder, doesn't it?"

Throwing more shuriken, he formed a single-handed seal.

"Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"

The air in front of Obito ignited, each shuriken surrounded by a fiery blaze, creating a dangerous glow as they spiraled down on him from all directions like a deadly shower of petals.

The heat distorted the air, making the actual trajectories harder to track.

"Such a pointless trick." Obito's eyes widened, distorting the space around him.

The blazing shuriken were sucked into the swirling vortex, leaving the area before him clear.

A blade lunged toward his mask.

Coldly smiling, Obito refrained from using his ocular power to nullify it. Wood branches shot out from his body, lunging at Masashi.

The branches moved quickly, but Masashi seemed faster. Before they reached him, he vanished, his blade slicing through another trunk infused with wind chakra, chopping it into pieces.

Splinters flew in all directions as the enhanced blade cleaved through the wood.

The ground rumbled, dirt scattered as thorn-covered, oddly shaped trees erupted and coiled upward, with Obito standing atop the spiked forest, coldly gazing at Masashi.

Yes, finish him! Zetsu inwardly cheered, then saw Masashi glance in his direction from afar, something in that look making him uncomfortable.

A small blade sliced Zetsu in two from below, leaving half of his body flying in the air. The cut was so clean it took a moment to register what had happened.

He spotted a familiar mark fading from the shuriken that had struck him. What… the hell!? He mastered the Flying Thunder God!?

Masashi looked at the dense forest of brambles chasing him.

He quickly formed hand seals, chakra building in his core as his cheeks puffed up, and opened his mouth.

"Fire Style: Majestic Destroyer Flame."

The chakra released from his mouth transformed into an overwhelmingly massive arrow-shaped flame, sweeping everything in its path.

An unrestrained sea of fire engulfed all around it. The formerly menacing forest stood no chance against this catastrophic force. The earth burned, wave after wave of fierce fire raging as if it intended to devour everything.

The heat was so intense that the air seemed to warp and twist.

Once again, it proved that the strength of Wood Release wasn't truly about the Wood Release itself.

"This guy… how is he this strong?" Zetsu struggled to rise from the scorched earth. Looking up at the towering sea of flames ahead, a bold idea suddenly struck him.

Masashi was forming seals once more. The Sharingan locked onto the unscathed figure in the raging inferno, tracking every subtle movement.

The earth trembled, answering his chakra's call.

Countless ice blades burst from the soil, rising high to form towering glaciers. The chill extinguished the flames, and the air filled with cracking sounds as the ground's remains froze over. The sudden temperature change created a misty barrier between combatants.

"Ice Release that surpassed even the Yuki clan..."

As the bitter cold radiated from the frozen earth, Zetsu had no doubt. The technique before him was superior to that of the Yuki clan.

In his memory, it seemed that even some Uchiha with Mangekyō Sharingan in history might not have been able to defeat the current Masashi.

Another Tobirama, perhaps?

With an age longer than ninja history itself, Zetsu had witnessed the evolution of chakra in the hands of humanity ever since Ōtsutsuki Hagoromo founded the Ninshū. Even Zetsu had to admit one thing: humanity's potential was limitless.

By the end of the Warring States period, ninjas, shaped by a millennium of evolution, had become pure instruments of war. All ninja clans had reached the point where their proficiency in developing techniques surged forward.

New ninjutsu emerged yearly, countless techniques cropping up in a constant flow. But before Hashirama appeared, the Uchiha clan's Mangekyō Sharingan still reigned supreme.

An Uchiha with the Mangekyō was a true Uchiha. Without that power, the Uchiha weren't necessarily stronger than other ninja clans.

A thousand years later, a ninjutsu prodigy was born who, through sheer talent, rose to the same heights and made Zetsu remember his name.

That person was Tobirama.

At a time when everyone was tirelessly developing new jutsu, his approach was unique.

It was prolific like a sow!

This master of ninjutsu ended up achieving an astonishing feat.

Without the chakra of Indra or Asura, he managed to defeat a Mangekyō user in direct combat.

Other than the reincarnations of Asura, no one else had accomplished such a feat. Tobirama transcended not only his identity but surpassed countless past reincarnations of Indra and Asura.

After all, not every reincarnation was skilled enough to make the entire ninja world stop and watch them duel.

And in Masashi, Zetsu saw a similar potential to Tobirama.

Not in talent, but in possibility. Masashi's ability to develop techniques couldn't match Tobirama's, yet his mastery of jutsu for his age revealed another type of potential.

Though it was only a possibility, it was worth testing.

The tip of a blade pressed against Zetsu's face. But he didn't mind; after all, he couldn't be killed.

"What a hassle... the Uchiha clan."

Sensing his opponent's strange power, unusual for an Uchiha, though not particularly strong, he raised his head to look at Masashi. Despite possessing only the three-tomoe Sharingan, he was formidable.

Some ninjas could identify individual chakra, but in this, no one matched Zetsu's innate gift. In his eyes, no two chakras were the same. Like souls, chakra was unique to each person.

"Are you training in Yang Release?" he asked, noting the distinctive flow of chakra.

"Why can't an Uchiha train in Yang Release?" Masashi responded.

After Hashirama's death, the old creature at his feet had become the world's largest Yang Release reservoir.

And he had woven acting into his very being, always putting on a show. Even at this time, though he could've escaped upon landing, he chose not to, allowing himself to be captured.

"So, you've learned the Fourth Hokage's technique?" Obito appeared in a spatial distortion, unharmed.

"It's the Second Hokage's, not the Fourth's," Masashi replied, sheathing his blade. "There's a difference. I lack the Uzumaki clan's core heritage to replicate Fourth's version. Besides, it's about time you took off that mask so we can have a proper talk."

"Are you really that concerned about this person?" Obito didn't react. "I'll wager he's dead by now. It seems you lack the talent to unlock the Mangekyō Sharingan; you're just a waste."

Masashi noticed that Obito kept trying to steer the conversation in that direction. This version of Obito felt quite different from the manipulator in the original timeline.

But it made sense. He'd only recently acquired Madara's legacy, so he was still relatively inexperienced.

The future battles in Kiri would be his true training ground.

Falling into darkness changed one's ideals, but it couldn't suddenly grant experience or sharpen the mind.

However, Masashi still had a trick up his sleeve. After all, they'd grown up together; who didn't know each other's tricks?

As if struck by a sudden thought, he said, "Oh, by the way, before coming to the Land of Rain, I stopped by your home. Your grandmother made me some strawberry daifuku. Would you like to go back and eat some?"

"You're lying!" Obito's anger exploded. "My grandmother passed away last year!"

A loud clap of thunder echoed through the sky.

Dark clouds gathered above, and rain began to fall, casting a white mist across the distant glaciers. The droplets hissed as they hit the still-warm earth.

The two Uchiha and Zetsu fell silent.

Zetsu looked at Obito in disbelief, with so much to say yet no words to express it. Perhaps I chose the wrong Uchiha.

Was it too late to switch sides now?

After a moment, thunder rolled through the sky once again. The rain poured harder, washing away the last traces of ash and steam from their battle.

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