The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds of the Hokage's office, casting long shadows across the cluttered desk. Hiruzen Sarutabi, the Third Hokage, fixed his weary gaze on the young man standing before him—Raito, arms loosely crossed, head bobbing in lazy agreement.
"I'm assigning you to watch over them," Hiruzen said, voice low and firm. "Make sure no Root ninja gets within fifty meters of those two."
Raito kept nodding, the motion almost mechanical.
"Especially Sasuke Uchiha," Hiruzen continued. "Danzo's already sent teams after him four times. I've briefed Kakashi—he'll cover for you in the open. Whatever you do, don't make the boy feel threatened. Better yet… try to become his friend."
Raito's lips twitched faintly. Four attempts and he still hasn't learned to cover his tracks? What an idiot.
He swallowed a yawn.
Hiruzen rubbed his temple, the lines on his face deepening. "You remember the Itachi situation, don't you?"
Raito's eyes flicked upward, scanning the corners of the room with practiced subtlety. No chakra signatures. No listening seals. Empty.
"Yeah," he answered, rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand. "I remember."
Can this kid ever look serious for once? Hiruzen thought, exhaling through his nose. Yet he tolerated it—because he had to.
Raito met the old man's stare for a brief moment. Acting all high and mighty now, but back then you begged me to escort Itachi out of the village alive.
That night of the massacre, Raito had assumed Hiruzen orchestrated everything. Turned out the Hokage hadn't known a thing about the "mission." It was all Danzo—every bloody thread of it.
To keep Danzo from pulling the same trick he'd used on Shisui, Hiruzen had entrusted Raito with Itachi's safe escape… and even told him the truth.
At fourteen, Raito had already reached S-rank. Solo missions only. One hundred percent success rate. The kind of record that spoke louder than any recommendation.
In Hiruzen's private estimation, the boy was the most likely successor to the hat. Kakashi didn't want it, didn't have the raw power for it anymore. But Raito? He plowed through missions like a machine, then vanished into training grounds until the next assignment.
If only he'd bother making actual friends, Hiruzen lamented silently. The boy had no real ties—just acquaintances. No faction, no influence. All the political legwork fell on the old man's shoulders instead.
Hiruzen leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under the weight of too many years.
"Then you understand what's at stake," he said quietly. "Protect them, Raito. Quietly."
Raito gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
"Got it, old man."
____________________________________________________________________
Raito stepped out of the Hokage Tower, the heavy door clicking shut behind him. Finally free, he let the yawn he'd been holding rip—long, loud, and utterly shameless.
Nine years already, huh?
In truth, he wasn't from this world. He was a transmigrator—some random guy from Earth who'd woken up in the Naruto story, fully aware he was inside the damn manga. Survival instinct kicked in hard; he trained like a possessed demon. Lucky for him, the System came along for the ride.
Missions completed, accomplishments earned, merits racked up—every milestone fed him Template Points. That was the real reason he burned through assignments like kindling. No rest, no socializing, just endless grinding.
And after nine brutal years, he'd unlocked exactly one template.
A translucent blue panel flickered in his vision.
[Ryomen Sukuna: 100%]
Raito snorted. "Still the same damn screen. Getting real tired of your face, Sukuna."
He pulled up his points next.
[Template Points: 3500]
"Fifteen hundred more to go," he muttered, hands in his pockets as he strolled through Konoha's bustling streets. Shinobi and civilians parted around him without realizing it—an unconscious deference to the quiet menace he carried.
His modest house sat on the village outskirts, tucked between training grounds and forest. Perfect for someone who preferred solitude.
Once inside, he kicked off his sandals and flopped onto the couch, pulling the System panel back up.
[Current Main Mission: Infiltrate Team 7 and aura-farm as the incarnate demon king, Ryomen Sukuna.]
A lazy smirk tugged at his lips. "Yeah… just wait till the war hits."
Even with Sukuna's full power—peak Meguna form, Ten Shadows included—he knew the truth.
In front of Madara? Still fodder.
Susanoo was the problem. That absurd, broken armor turned most strategies to dust. Without it, one sneaky Domain Expansion could end things. With it… well.
Raito rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Mahoraga's my only real win condition. Everything else is a gamble."
He exhaled slowly. "Whatever. War-arc Raito can deal with that bullshit."
For now, his only job was simple.
Aura-farm.
Scare the living daylights out of everyone, look untouchably cool doing it, and rack up those sweet, sweet points.
He closed his eyes, the four-eyed smirk of the King of Curses faintly overlapping his own face in the darkness.
"Let's get to work."
______________________________________________________________-
The morning sun glinted off the lazy river below the old wooden bridge, where Team 7 waited—again.
Naruto's voice cracked with irritation. "Kakashi-sensei! This is the third time this week you've been late!"
The silver-haired jounin appeared in a swirl of leaves, eye crinkling in that perpetual half-smile. "Life moves in mysterious ways, Naruto. You should be grateful I only kept you waiting three times."
Sakura's eyebrow twitched violently. "Grateful?! The other days you didn't show up at all!"
Sasuke said nothing, arms folded on the railing, black hair dancing in the breeze as he stared into the distance—brooding as always.
Kakashi clapped once, drawing their attention. "Anyway, today's special. I'm adding a new member to the team."
He paused for effect. "He's… a unique case. Be nice."
With a lazy hand sign, Kakashi gestured toward the tree line.
Shadows rippled.
Then he stepped out.
Tall, lean, dressed in simple black, Raito emerged like the forest itself had exhaled him. The moment his foot touched the bridge, the air changed—heavy, thick, crushing. An invisible pressure slammed down on everything, as if gravity itself had decided to triple its efforts.
Sasuke's eyes widened. What… is this power?
Naruto froze mid-complaint, legs trembling just to stay upright. Sakura's knees buckled slightly, her breath catching.
Even Kakashi, hidden behind his book, felt his spine strain to stay straight. Damn… I'm using chakra just to stand normally.
Raito swept his gaze across the three genin, crimson eyes glinting with faint amusement. A low chuckle escaped him.
"You brats hold your heads too high."
Kakashi sighed. "Alright, Raito. That's enough."
The pressure vanished as suddenly as it appeared.
Raito shrugged. "Fine, fine. It's gone. You can stop groveling now."
The trio straightened slowly, faces pale. Sasuke's fists clenched, teeth grinding. That suffocating presence… it reminded him of one night, one man.
Itachi.
The name burned behind his eyes.
––––––––––
Hours later, the mood had thawed—mostly thanks to Raito's wallet and Ichiraku's bottomless ramen bowls.
Naruto slurped noisily, broth dripping down his chin. "So you're really our new teammate, huh?"
Raito leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. "Something like that. Think of me as a bystander. I won't be carrying anyone."
Naruto blinked, confused, but barreled on anyway. He thrust out a sauce-stained hand. "Uzumaki Naruto! Future strongest ninja in the village! The guy who's gonna surpass every Hokage and become number one!"
Raito shook it once, grip firm. "Yagami Raito. I also plan to be Hokage."
For the points, obviously.
His mind flashed to the System notification he'd gotten after hitting S-rank: a fat 3500 Template Points. Hokage? That reward would be obscene.
Naruto's eyes lit up like fireworks. He jabbed chopsticks at Raito's face. "Then you're my rival, dattebayo! Only one of us is wearing that hat!"
Raito's lips curved faintly. Already bored.
His gaze shifted to the pink-haired girl trying to look composed.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Haruno Sakura. Um… try not to let Naruto annoy you too much. He's an idiot, but… a kind one."
Raito's expression didn't change, but internally he noted the casual familiarity. Land of Waves is already done. Old man really skimped on the briefing.
Finally, Sasuke pushed his empty bowl away and stood.
"Uchiha Sasuke." His voice was ice. "That's all you need."
Dark eyes locked onto Raito's, burning with challenge.
Kakashi reached over and ruffled Sasuke's hair. "Play nice, Sasuke. No bad-boy stares at the new guy."
Sasuke swatted the hand away with a scowl.
As the team dispersed into the evening streets, Naruto shoved a crumpled "visiting card" into Raito's hand—orange paper, handwriting that looked like a drunk cat wrote it.
Raito glanced at it once. Trash.
Then he turned to the lingering jounin.
"Mission logs. All of them. Now, Dog."
Kakashi's visible eye narrowed sharply at the old ANBU codename.
The lazy mask slipped, just for a second.
"…Follow me."