How to Survive as an Uchiha

When Masashi pulled his hand out of the White Zetsu clone's chest for the last time, he had a sudden, bizarre craving.

Kushiyaki would be perfect right now... maybe some grilled meat skewers...

Anyway, it had taken quite a while.

He finally understood the meaning of chakra exhaustion limits. His muscles trembled slightly, a clear sign he'd pushed beyond his usual boundaries.

Of course, it wasn't the kind of complete depletion where there was not a drop left, but the fatigue was real.

"There's a place to bathe here," Black Zetsu helpfully reminded him from the side.

While neither he nor White Zetsu needed a bath, this was once where Madara had lived, and Madara certainly required one.

He was hoping Masashi could take another small step forward here. After all, his progress so far had been quite satisfactory.

One had to admit, Uchiha who awakened their Sharingan to the three-tomoe stage were generally not lacking in talent.

Now, Masashi had already mastered what he had taught him. The speed of his chakra manipulation had improved dramatically, and his control was becoming increasingly refined.

"With your current progress, achieving Mangekyō-level power without the usual drawbacks is possible," Black Zetsu observed.

"And without the emotional trauma," Masashi replied, stretching his sore muscles. "That's the interesting part."

Of course, to reach Black Zetsu's level would require relentless practice.

In this aspect, he was powerless. His abilities were innate, directly bestowed by Kaguya. He didn't require training and couldn't train even if he wanted to.

As he had told Masashi, he could only point him in the right direction but couldn't directly make him stronger.

Based on Masashi's progress in recent days, he estimated that he would take him at least several years to fully grasp the techniques he had imparted.

By that time, with the enhancement of his chakra properties, Masashi's ocular power should be able to break through Black Zetsu's current limits, equating in quality to a Mangekyō Sharingan.

At that point, he would essentially become a new form of the Eye of Indra and be capable of using Susanoo.

In the meantime, Black Zetsu could take the opportunity to observe closely. After waiting a thousand years, what were a few more years? Akatsuki needed development anyway; besides Nagato, the others were essentially useless.

Relying on them to collect the tailed beasts would be futile—they'd get obliterated in no time.

Akatsuki didn't even have a proper base of operations yet. Since that brat Yahiko's death, years had passed. The outbreak of the Third Great Ninja War had merely eased some of Akatsuki's pressures, allowing them to finally start resembling an organization.

Before the war, Nagato had essentially been in hiding.

As expected, non-Uchiha were just less effective. Despite having the Rinnegan, he wasn't even doing as well as Obito, who had at least managed to take over Kiri in no time.

Black Zetsu observed as Masashi stood up.

"You could absorb more, you know," he suggested. "Your control has improved significantly."

Masashi had been very restrained with each White Zetsu clone he targeted. Initially, it could be attributed to his lack of familiarity, requiring Black Zetsu's repeated assistance to prevent corrosion. But later, he had clearly crossed that threshold and could independently extract chakra from the clones.

It was just… painstakingly slow.

"And end up like that guy?" Masashi glanced at the first White Zetsu clone, which still lay nearby, its chest now slowly rising and falling.

"Not necessarily. Sustainable development is key—just a bit from each one. And they aren't humans. They don't die that easily."

"But close enough. Besides their unique appearance, there's not much difference." Masashi dismissed the matter casually.

"Oh! Oh! Speaking of differences," White Zetsu bounced excitedly, "humans are so interesting! Did you know their poop—"

"Actually," Masashi cut in, "if you're so fascinated, green means you're eating too many leafy vegetables, and black could mean internal bleeding. That's the kind of intel you should be gathering."

White Zetsu's eyes widened with genuine curiosity. "Really? What about—"

"That's enough bathroom science for today." Masashi's tone was light but final.

White Zetsu slumped dramatically.

"Anything happening outside?" Masashi asked as he loosened up, easing his fatigue.

He'd asked this during training, and White Zetsu had patted its chest, promising to keep an eye out.

"Nothing at all. No one comes here."

"Then it's time for me to head back." Masashi nodded, preparing to leave.

"Not resting first?" Black Zetsu asked.

"I'm out of dango. It's been a week out there, you know." Masashi sighed. "Your place is decent, but the basic amenities are seriously lacking. Totally inhumane."

As he spoke, he checked to ensure he hadn't left anything behind, then started retracing his steps.

Black Zetsu had no choice but to follow, calling White Zetsu to tag along.

"Oh, almost forgot." Masashi suddenly stopped and looked back at the two figures behind him.

"My oil lamp—did I leave it around here?"

"Ah, I thought you didn't want it and put it back."

"Fine. Next time I come, refill it for me, will you? It's pitch black in here." Masashi shook his head, looking exasperated.

Re-entering the dark corridor, he used his fire jutsu to conjure a small fireball for light.

White Zetsu instinctively backed away, sensing something ominous.

Black Zetsu, however, remained unfazed; anything not of Yin-Yang Release couldn't harm him.

Along the way, it even exchanged a few more words with Masashi, essentially reaffirming their intent to stay in touch.

As for why... Was the Uchiha clan still in dire straits?

Believing that or pretending to didn't matter. Either way, the two had reached a consensus.

Masashi didn't think Black Zetsu was easy to fool, but if he could take advantage of it, why not?

Black Zetsu cared even less. He knew Masashi's thoughts but was confident it could eventually turn him into a willing pawn.

Uchihas always started this way—only to end up more zealous than even he anticipated.

Back at Madara's makeshift ICU, Masashi stopped using his fire jutsu. He exited the cave the same way he entered, first teleporting to the rock wall and then back to the surface.

Fresh air filled his lungs, reinvigorating him.

It was still nighttime, the stars scattered across the sky.

Not sure what time it really was, Masashi had only one desire now: a good bath followed by a long sleep.

After that, he'd return to Konoha to wrap up various matters.

Since he was already in Kusa, he decided to rest in a nearby town. He'd passed one before reaching the Kannabi Bridge and still remembered the location.

When the Kusa ninjas had come to verify the situation earlier, they'd given him something like a letter of introduction.

This letter would allow him to enjoy accommodations and meals in town.

Masashi wasn't worried about leaving a trail of his presence.

He was "looking for a legacy," after all. It was only natural to visit a few places.

With a swish, he darted off toward the nearest town.

---

Masashi lazily opened his eyes. He slowly sat up in bed, scratching his messy hair, stretching, and yawning.

Body's recovered well from yesterday's chakra drain.

He rolled out of bed and took off his clothes. Then, he walked into the bathroom. After a thorough wash, he felt rejuvenated and put on the new clothes he had bought the night before.

The old clothes were stored in a sealing scroll.

That was a satisfying sleep.

Pulling open the curtains, he saw the faint light of dawn. The streets were silent; at this hour, most people were still asleep. Through the window, he could see the town's layout clearly.

This was an inn in the town.

After leaving the Kannabi Bridge, he had entered this town, bought some clean clothes, and found the best inn in town. With a tap of an introduction letter, he secured a room and went straight to bed.

Of course, before sleeping, he had casually set up a barrier. Three-layer detection field, chakra suppression seal at the corners, and a touch of genjutsu to make the room feel empty.

Standard procedure.

The world was full of dangers, and one had to stay vigilant when sleeping.

In case this was a shady establishment, he needed to be ready to fire off a Great Fireball Jutsu at a moment's notice.

Since his food pills had run out and there wasn't even a street vendor open at this hour, Masashi checked out of the inn at the front desk and headed directly back to the village.

Though he was wearing clothes from Kusa, the forehead protector on his head ensured he passed unhindered. 

This was the deterrent power of the Great Shinobi Villages.

In times of war, this wouldn't matter, but in times of peace, being a chunin of a Great Shinobi Village was better than being the leader of a small one.

Currently, his chakra control and circulation speed had doubled since before heading to the Kannabi Bridge. Though his overall power hadn't significantly increased, he could run faster, and his Body Flicker had finally reached the level of his first life.

The greatest takeaway from the Kannabi Bridge was that he had corrected a misunderstanding he'd long held.

Previously, he thought that abilities like the Senju's body and Sharingan were cheats.

Now, he realized that every ninja had a cheat code: chakra.

It was like a mobile game: pay-to-win, medium spenders, low spenders, and free players existed.

Even so, individual skill mattered; if you were clumsy, no cheat device or emulator would save you from losing to someone using basic techniques.

But a cheat was still a cheat, and it had one name: chakra!

His first-life research had been on the right track. Strip away the fancy techniques, and all miracles came down to chakra itself.

It was just a matter of ability not being up to par.

Black Zetsu had been unexpectedly generous this time. Unlike the last encounter, where he was all talk, this time, he had actually delivered.

Masashi figured Black Zetsu must have been seriously irritated by Obito somewhere. Otherwise, the 180-degree shift in attitude was hard to explain.

With the wind whistling past, he seemed like a gust of wind himself, crossing the borders into the Land of Fire and racing into Konoha's territory.

Here, someone finally stopped him.

Not a familiar face, but clearly a Konoha ninja.

"Halt! Oh?" The person's surprised expression showed recognition of Masashi. "Masashi? What brings you here..."

The guard wore the uniform of the Police Force but was not an Uchiha.

Instead, it was a Hyūga.

After all, outside the Hyūga clan, no one else in Konoha walked around with a pair of Byakugan openly displayed.

Ao had managed to acquire a Byakugan on the battlefield, but he guarded it like a treasure, complete with seals to prevent it from being stolen. That was the only recorded case of a non-Hyūga ninja possessing a Byakugan.

"I visited Kusa; my clothes got dirty, so I changed," Masashi explained while curiously observing the other. "The Hyūga joined the Police Force?"

"Yes, with the Hokage's approval," replied the Hyūga ninja, nervous about how this might sit with a prominent Uchiha like Masashi.

But his concerns were misplaced.

"So the clan finally wised up..." Masashi sighed. "As expected, the clan leader is reliable when he isn't messing around with calligraphy."

The Hyūga ninja blinked in confusion. "???"

Although he didn't fully understand, it seemed the Uchiha powerhouse had no objections.

Relieved, he nodded.

"Thank you for your understanding. I'll let you proceed."

"Thanks. Take care." With that, Masashi vanished in a flash, leaving only a faint silhouette visible to the Hyūga's Byakugan.

"No wonder he's called the White Ghost—a true master of speed..." the young Hyūga recruit muttered as he resumed patrol duty.

Masashi, now far ahead, didn't catch that comment. If he had, learning that the nickname White Ghost was gaining traction would have upset him.

Once a nickname spreads, there's no changing it.

In no time, the silhouette of Konoha came into view, along with the bustling flow of people at the village gates.

He passed through the crowds and paused at the gate. The Konoha ninja on duty quickly processed his entry.

Once inside, Masashi returned to the Uchiha district to change out of his Kusa outfit before heading to the Hokage Tower.

By the time he appeared in the Hokage's office, he had resumed the formal demeanor expected of a Konoha shinobi.

"Masashi, thank you for your hard work," Minato greeted warmly, pouring him a cup of tea. "Try this; I heard you're fond of tea."

Masashi studied Minato's earnest expression. No hidden meanings with this one.

Relieved, he took the cup.

This man was famously henpecked; he wouldn't even know modern slang about "spilling tea" or stirring up drama. It made their interactions refreshingly simple.

He sipped the tea—an unfamiliar flavor.

Had Minato stopped mooching off Fugaku's tea stash? Did this mean a pay raise or bonus for the Hokage?

"This tea is excellent," Masashi remarked.

"Right? I snagged it while dining at the Hyūga clan. I knew it was good tea at first glance."

As if... You just thought it was expensive.

Ever since becoming Hokage, Minato's income had plummeted, to the point of pilfering tea from the Hyūga.

"Shall I report now?"

"Please, have a seat," Minato said, taking a spot on the sofa and pouring himself a cup.

"After thorough investigation, the so-called 'legacy' appears to be a fabrication. The traces of Senju Muzo have completely disappeared from this world."

"That doesn't sound like good news," Minato sighed. "The village had hoped to bury him in the Hero's Cemetery."

"Being laid to rest far away isn't necessarily a bad thing," Masashi said, putting down his cup. "Hokage-sama, regarding this matter, why not gather the interested parties and settle things in one go? It'll stop the endless speculation."

"When would you prefer?"

"Since I'm back, any day is fine."

"Understood. I'll inform you once arrangements are made."

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