“You are not my daddy!”
“Hahaha—fine, just call me ‘Big Brother’ then!
Don’t call me ‘Mister’; I’m not that old!”
Hikuro ruffled his hair affectionately, then pulled him into a warm embrace.
“What’s got you so deep in thought, little one?”
“I want to know what it means to be alive.
What is the purpose of life?
What is life, really?” Itachi asked, his tone completely serious.
He paid no mind to the flick on his forehead or the strange request to call this stranger “Daddy.” Still lost in his own thoughts, he whispered again, “What is the meaning of living?”
Hikuro patted his head gently and smiled.
“Life doesn’t always have to come with a fixed, pre-written meaning.
But as long as you stay alive and keep moving forward, one day you might just find that meaning for yourself.
Being alive is already a wonderful thing all on its own.”
He tilted his head slightly, as if recalling painful memories.
“Take me, for example.
I watched my own parents get brutally murdered by people from the Land of Lightning right in front of my eyes.
But I never let myself fall into despair.
Because as long as you breathe, there is hope.
And I intend to make them pay for what they did!”
A faint, playful smirk touched his lips.
“Besides, Konoha is full of so many beautiful women—there’s no way I’m ready to die yet!”
“To live is to have hope.
To die is to have everything come to an end.
Once life is gone, nothing remains.
That is why no one wants to die.
The will to survive is the most basic instinct of every living thing.”
Hikuro held the boy in his arms and spoke slowly, sharing his own understanding of life.
The deeper he delved into this world of shinobi, the more he, as a man from a modern society, came to hate its cruelty.
He burned with the desire to change it, yet his power was still not enough.
Without a single, unified authority, conflicts would never truly cease.
He dreamed of bringing the entire ninja world under one rule—so that after he was gone, wars would end, and ordinary people could finally catch their breath and live in peace. Follow the newest chapters on novelping.com.
He felt no pity for nobles or powerful leaders who met a violent end; those leeches who fed on the suffering of the poor deserved everything they got.
What broke his heart was the ordinary folk who worked their whole lives, only to be slaughtered in their own homes by shinobi for reasons they could never understand.
In his past life, he had been just another ordinary worker, repeating the same dull routine day after day.
But now, in this world, a great ambition had taken root inside him: he wanted to change everything.
He craved life itself, chasing immortality with an almost obsessive determination.
He wanted to travel across this vast, endless world and witness all its beauty and wonders.
He refused to die.
This fierce will to survive had shaped the man he had become.
And as long as he lived, there was still a chance he might one day return to the world he had come from.
So he made up his mind: he would go on living, forever and without pause.
He would travel through countless realms and dimensions, seeing sights no one else had ever seen—he would never be satisfied with staying in one place.
To explore all these wonders, he needed two things above all else: eternal life and immense power.
He never wanted to relive the agony of watching his parents die before his eyes while he was too weak to do anything.
He would never again be that helpless.
Hikuro had already set a goal for himself: achieve immortality within twenty years.
Master the Ghost Sprout Technique completely, become a true ultimate life form, and possess an endless, undying existence.
In a way, he and Orochimaru were truly kindred spirits.
“Beauty… hope… to live means hope…” Itachi murmured softly, his young mind only half understanding, but feeling a strange warmth rise in his heart.
Though still confused, he felt as though he had grasped something important.
Hikuro lifted him up in his strong arms, hoisting him high into the air, and laughed.
“That’s right!
Never give up on living, no matter what happens.
Only while you are alive does hope exist!”
“Every child is the hope of the future.”
He set Itachi gently back down.
As someone from a modern world, Hikuro felt deep pity for the young shinobi of this realm.
Before they had even reached adulthood, they were forced to survive in a world of bloodshed and killing.
Itachi, in particular, had been dragged onto battlefields by his fool of a father at just four years old—it was no wonder he would grow up so troubled.
In times of peace, children should be learning in schools and enjoying carefree childhoods. This story is hosted at g.com.
Instead, they were taught to take lives.
Hikuro knew he could not save everyone, but for those he met along the way, he was willing to offer whatever help he could.
“Cough… cough…” Itachi struggled, trying to free himself from the heavy hand resting on his head.
“Meeting is fate, little one.
Come on—I’ll buy you something good to eat.”
With that, Hikuro took Itachi by the hand and led him toward the food stalls.
“N-no need…” Itachi tried to maintain his usual cool composure, but before he could finish speaking, Hikuro had already taken his small hand and strode forward.
He had no choice but to hurry along to keep up.
Looking closer, this strange man was actually quite handsome—soft white hair, a gentle smile always on his face, and a warm, approachable aura.
Yet there was something cold and eerie about the chakra flowing around him.
Like Orochimaru, he had unusually pale skin, and a faint diamond-shaped mark on his forehead that only added to his mysterious charm.
As they walked, Itachi secretly observed his new companion.
Hikuro led the boy through the busy streets of Konoha.
Just as they approached the dessert shop he knew well, he suddenly realized he had never asked for the child’s name—he could hardly pretend he already knew it.
“By the way, I forgot to ask—what is your name, little one?” he asked with a smile.
“I am Itachi Uchiha,” Itachi replied in his soft, childish voice.
“And you, Mister?”
“Me?
I’m Hikuro.”
Hikuro preferred to stay out of the spotlight.
He spent most of his time locked away in his laboratory, and had never earned fame or glory on the battlefield like the legendary Sannin.
Few people knew his name, but because of his work and inventions, he had gained a reputation among the shinobi that was no less respected than theirs.
He remembered then how beautiful Mikoto Uchiha had been—truly the perfect example of a graceful, noble woman.
He had seen her briefly during the war, and she had left a strong impression.
“Entering someone’s yard makes you think of their melons; playing with someone’s child makes you think of their mother,” a saying from his old life popped into his head.
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