Akira Uchiha returned home under the pale shimmer of Konoha's lantern lights, his mind already racing ahead of his small frame.
After dinner, he leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as if answers were written somewhere between the wooden beams.
What next?
How to make Itachi Uchiha, the genius of his generation, work for him — a five-year-old boy who could barely reach the top shelf?
He chuckled at the absurdity.
It was clear to him that no one would take a child seriously, no matter how sharp his wit. He needed a mask, a persona — something untouchable, mysterious, and terrifying enough to command respect.
That was when the name came to him — Chronarch.
A shadow that spoke from beyond time.
A name that could whisper to prodigies and make even the wise pause before answering.
It wasn't just a game of disguise; it was a layer of armor. If anyone came looking for him — for Akira — they would find only the phantom of Chronarch.
It was protection. For himself. For his parents. For the clan.
And maybe, a little bit… for fun.
Three days. That was all he had before Itachi would expect something.
Akira had already drawn up two plans.
The first was simple: write a second letter — this time to Kakashi Hatake.
Not through the postal service. He would deliver it himself, pretending to be nothing more than a messenger boy who didn't know a thing. He can't everyday got to postal office. He is just a five year old child. Maybe ANBU will visit him the next day.
The second plan?
He smiled faintly.
If the first failed, he still had his "greatest ally," the noble and entirely unsuspecting Sarutobi Akichi — a friend who, despite barely realizing it, had already helped him countless times.
Akira leaned on his elbows and sighed.
"Akichi, my dear friend… when the time comes, I'll give you a dignified death. Everything is for Konoha "
The words sounded dramatic, even to him. But the feeling of righteousness that followed was almost intoxicating.
He grinned, quoting his favorite line,
"Ah… so this is why Danzo always says, 'All of this is for Konoha.' It really does sound powerful."
Buzzing with newfound determination — or maybe too much imagination — Akira went to sleep.
---
The next morning, he woke with the same fervor burning in his chest.
After breakfast, he sat at his desk and began to write the letter — slow, deliberate strokes across the parchment, his childish handwriting carefully disguised under a layer of precision. As for why it is childish, it is because in the previous life he was not japanese and didn't learn japanese though he knew a few words but, that might be restricted content.
"Cough, cough, cough
I was distracted. It's truly a terrifying illusion even someone as powerful as jiraiya, hiruzen and kaguya couldn't escape"
When the ink dried, he folded it neatly, sealed it, and slipped it into his sleeve.
Then, like a spy in his own village, he left the Uchiha compound, wandering the streets in search of his target.
---
By noon, he found him.
Kakashi Hatake sat quietly at a Ichiraku ramen shop near the central district, mask in place, posture slouched, aura empty. He looked like someone who was tired of existing but too responsible to stop.
The future Sixth Hokage, Akira thought with mild amusement.
Right now, he looks like a ghost trying to convince himself he's alive.
He walked up slowly, pretending to be hesitant. Kakashi didn't even glance his way; he just kept eating, his single visible eye half-lidded with disinterest.
Akira lightly patted his shoulder.
"Excuse me, are you Kakashi Hatake-sama?"
Kakashi turned, his gaze dull, unreadable — those eyes that had seen too much and felt too little.
For a moment, Akira felt a faint chill crawl up his spine. It was like being measured by a man who had long stopped believing in anything, including himself.
Still, Akira smiled politely and held out the letter.
"That big brother told me to give this to you."
He pointed toward the alley beside the shop. "There he is… huh? He's gone."
He frowned with just enough confusion to sell the act.
Kakashi followed his gaze briefly, then looked back at him — silent, unmoving.
Akira scratched his head, sighed dramatically, and said,
"Well, I guess he didn't want to wait. Anyway, my work here is done. Goodbye, Kakashi-sama!"
He flashed a grin, turned on his heel, and walked off with a carefree bounce, leaving behind the faint scent of paper and ink.
Kakashi watched him go.
Something in that boy's smile tugged faintly at his heart — an echo of another time, another teammate.
Obito…
He looked down at the letter, fingers brushing over the seal, but made no move to open it.
He simply placed it on the counter beside his empty bowl and let out a quiet sigh, half weary, half indifferent.
Then he stood up, dropped a few coins for his meal, and vanished into the crowd — leaving behind a sealed envelope that would soon ripple through Konoha's quiet shadows.
---