Chapter 106: Kabuto's True Identity
So Kabuto's amnesia wasn't simply the result of a head injury.
His memories had been deliberately sealed away by Sasori's Memory-Concealing Manipulative Sand Technique, preventing Nan from ever retrieving them.
Now, with the seal undone, the truth of Kabuto's past finally surfaced.
Back in Sunagakure, Kabuto had been just another orphan—precisely the type Sasori preyed upon. Sasori would select such children and bind them through his jutsu, grooming them into sleeper agents who might one day climb into positions of influence and deliver classified intelligence.
Before leaving the Sand, Sasori had marked several children this way. Kabuto was the last.
By coincidence, Kabuto had already suffered a head injury from a fall, leaving his memory fractured. An orphan with no ties, no past, and incomplete recollection of who he was—he was the perfect candidate.
What Sasori hadn't expected was that fate would sweep Kabuto away from Suna and into Konoha's arms.
Nan almost wanted to applaud. Clever. Very clever.
Thinking back to the canon story, Nan recalled Yura—one of Sasori's agents who had risen all the way to jōnin. Sasori's scheme clearly worked.
But Sasori's sudden appearance here… what exactly was his goal? Nan decided to play along. Slowly, he composed himself, then respectfully looked up at the puppet master.
Seeing Kabuto's condition stabilize, Sasori spoke again:
"You should remember everything now… Zero."
Zero—that had been Kabuto's true name before Konoha.
"Yes," Nan replied, lowering his head with feigned deference. "I remember it all, Sasori-sama. I carried out your orders, serving as an assistant medic-nin in Suna. But when the war intensified, I was sent to the front lines. My skills were too meager—I was captured by Konoha with humiliating ease. I ruined your plan… I'm sorry."
Sasori waved the apology aside with a faint smile.
"It doesn't matter. I've planted many spies; losing one isn't critical. In fact, your capture may be a blessing in disguise. You can now collect intelligence on Konoha instead. Just follow the same path as before—rise higher, gain access to secrets. Only this time, do it in Konoha."
So that's it… Nan thought. No wonder Kabuto later sought entry into Root. It wasn't just loyalty to the orphanage—it was Sasori's imprint, quietly tugging at his subconscious.
"I understand, Sasori-sama," Nan said smoothly. "I'll do my best. But surely, you didn't come to Konoha just for this?"
A hint of amusement flickered across Sasori's lips.
"Still as sharp as ever, Zero. You're right. There's another matter. Recently, a rogue Konoha shinobi named Uchiha Han has emerged. Keep a close eye on him and gather whatever information you can."
At that, Nan nearly smirked. So you're after the Mangekyō Sharingan… too bad, the man you seek is standing right in front of you.
Sasori went on, cautious as always:
"Of course, intelligence on someone like Uchiha Han will be highly classified in Konoha. Don't rush. You're still new here—focus on growth and stability. I'll return to check on your progress later. For now… I should reseal your memories, so Konoha won't suspect anything."
He began to approach. To reseal the jutsu required close contact.
Nan's eyes narrowed, a cold smile forming within.
Sasori reached forward, hand hovering over Kabuto's head to reactivate the seal.
But Nan was not about to let that happen.
Scarlet light flared in his Sharingan. Sasori's body froze mid-motion.
Inside Hiruko, the puppet armor, Sasori's true self stiffened. A wave of unnatural chakra flooded through the visual feed of his puppet's eyes.
Genjutsu!
A lesser shinobi might have been trapped. But Sasori was of kage-level caliber—his reflexes razor sharp. In an instant, he disrupted his own chakra flow, shattering the illusion.
Nan hadn't expected to bind Sasori for long. His chakra reserves in Kabuto's body were pitiful, his ocular power far weaker than his true self's. But even a fleeting distraction was enough.
In that split second, Nan's real body arrived.
In the blink of an eye—Flying Thunder God.
The boy's figure shimmered into being beside Kabuto, now in the form of Uchiha Han. The clone withdrew immediately, retreating to safety.
Nan clenched his fist, channeling monstrous strength. His transformation technique altered not just appearance but physique, aligning his body with Han's older, near-adult frame. His strength surged to monstrous levels—comparable to Sakura's famed superhuman punches.
The blow landed.
Hiruko shattered with a deafening crack, fragments scattering like leaves in a storm.
Nan did not lower his guard. Is Sasori already a puppet himself at this stage? If so, his true body will be even more durable than Hiruko.
From the wreckage, a dark silhouette leapt free, landing lightly in the shadows.
Nan's eyes sharpened as the figure turned.
Red hair. A boyish face, no older than his mid-teens.
The true visage of Sasori of the Red Sand.
The puppet master rarely revealed his original form. Even Kabuto had never seen it.
But here he was—forced out by a single devastating punch.
Sasori's eyes flickered with shock. Hiruko, once his shield, was gone in an instant. And in Nan's eyes burned the Mangekyō Sharingan.
"You…" Sasori whispered, astonished.
"An Uchiha…?!"
Sasori's mind raced. I was so careful—how could I have been discovered?
The thought that "Zero" might have betrayed him never crossed Sasori's mind. Kabuto had been captured by Konoha only recently, and Sasori trusted his Memory-Concealing Manipulative Sand Technique implicitly. No one could have unraveled it so quickly, much less persuaded Kabuto to turn traitor.
And yet, just moments ago, Sasori had glimpsed the Sharingan in "Zero's" eyes. That was impossible—Zero had been a Suna orphan, not an Uchiha. The only explanation: some Uchiha had intercepted him on the way here and tampered with his pawn.
So that's it… Sasori thought grimly. I slipped somewhere, and Konoha tracked me here. This Uchiha must have laid a delayed illusion on Zero as bait.
Caution surged through him. Without hesitation, Sasori unfurled a scroll and summoned a puppet to guard his flank.
That single punch from the boy had already told him this opponent was far from ordinary. But Sasori wasn't one to shrink back. He was, after all, the man who had slain a Kazekage.
Suna had always considered Konoha its rival, and strategies for dealing with the Sharingan were drilled into their elites. Sasori, once among the village's brightest prodigies, had developed methods of his own. Against the Uchiha, overwhelming them with multiple attackers and striking from behind was the surest path. And a master puppeteer, commanding dozens of bodies at once, was more than suited to that role.
He narrowed his eyes and spoke with icy calm:
"Who are you? With power like that, you can't be some nameless shinobi."
Nan smirked, his tone mocking:
"What's the matter, Sasori of the Red Sand? Weren't you looking for me? Don't tell me you can't even recognize me now that I stand before you."
Sasori's eyes widened in disbelief.
"You… you're Uchiha Han? Impossible! The reports said you defected from Konoha. Why would you be here?"
Nan's voice was cool, almost disdainful:
"Konoha is my birthplace. Why wouldn't I be here? The real question is—what is Suna's rogue puppet master doing in my village's backyard?"
His gaze sharpened. "I heard everything you said to that boy. You really think you can challenge me—someone who wields the power of the gods? I don't know where you found the courage… maybe Kazekage lent it to you?"
His reply was sharp, edged with defiance:
"If your power were truly godlike, you wouldn't be skulking in the shadows of Konoha. People boast of your Mangekyō Sharingan, yet you never show yourself. That can only mean one thing—your power comes with a fatal flaw."
His eyes glinted with calculating insight.
"And you linger here, unwilling to leave, because there's something in Konoha you need. Something you don't dare let slip into anyone else's hands. That's why you're hiding, why you're watching."
Nan's eyes flickered with genuine surprise. Sharp. As expected from one of the shinobi world's greatest "scientists."
He had only nudged the conversation slightly, yet Sasori had already pieced together most of the picture.
Yes, others like Uchiha Madara or Fugaku knew the truth of the Mangekyō: that only the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan could escape its fatal drawbacks. If Nan revealed himself too openly, they would connect the dots far too quickly.
To protect his secret, he had no choice but to play the part of a flawed wielder. And Sasori—ever perceptive—had sniffed it out from scraps of misdirection.
Not bad, Nan thought, his smirk returning. But cleverness won't save you.