Naruto: Reborn With An AI Chip

Because there were wounded members in the returning unit, the pace of their journey was deliberately slow. What would normally take three days ended up stretching into five.

Only by the evening of the fifth day did they finally return to the Hidden Leaf Village.

To welcome them home, the Third Hokage had even arranged a formal ceremony.

Sarutobi's eyes swept across the gathering of wounded shinobi—some standing with effort, others resting quietly, their injuries wrapped in fresh bandages.

Among them were both civilians who had taken up arms in defense of the village and shinobi from the bloodline clans. His gaze lingered on the newly graduated Genin—the youngest among them—whose once bright expressions were now shadowed by the reality of war.

His eyes paused briefly on Renjiro and others like him, who had stepped onto the battlefield far too early.

"Shinobi of Konoha…"

Sarutobi stepped forward. His voice was clear and firm, filled with pride—but in his eyes, there was a deeply hidden sadness: "Today, you return not only as heroes who have achieved victory, but as those who carry the silent burden of sacrifice. The companions who left with you but did not return—they entrusted their hopes to you. Their dreams now live on through your footsteps."

He paused briefly, then continued with a quiet smile: "To those who fell… we owe a debt we cannot repay. To those who survived… you carry their will forward. You are the pride of this village. On behalf of the entire Hidden Leaf, I welcome you home."

---

Orochimaru, who had been watching Sarutobi from a distance, shook his head in disappointment: "You've grown old and weak… Sarutobi-sensei."

Before Sarutobi could finish his speech, Orochimaru turned away without a word.

Whoosh!

With a blur of movement, he vanished using the Body Flicker Technique—leaving behind an awkward silence, particularly among those who had been standing near him.

---

Noticing that Orochimaru had already left, Sarutobi made no move to stop him. He didn't call out, didn't speak—because there was nothing left to say.

"Haaaa..."

All he could do was release a long, deep sigh and watch his student leave quietly.

No one seemed to notice the unspoken tension that had passed between master and student in that brief moment—no one, except a few. Among them was Renjiro, who understood the deeper truth better than most.

The rift between master and student hadn't begun today—or even days ago. It had been forming for years. As Orochimaru grew older, so too did his obsession with power… and his unrelenting pursuit of immortality.

Sarutobi had long noticed the change—the cold, calculating darkness that had begun to surface in his once-brilliant student. And though Orochimaru possessed immense talent, Sarutobi knew in his heart that such ambition, laced with cruelty, made him unfit to carry the title of Hokage.

Unlike Minato, who was steady, humble, and easy to guide, Orochimaru had always been difficult—resistant to authority, unpredictable, and dangerously independent.

Following the cautious advice of his two counselors—and the more ruthless counsel of Danzō—Sarutobi had begun quietly suppressing Orochimaru's rising influence. He withheld praise, diverted recognition, and subtly redirected credit toward others, all in an effort to slow Orochimaru's growing momentum within the village.

And now, he had done it again—publicly giving credit to others for what Orochimaru had a hand in. He knew full well that such actions would only deepen the divide between them. But in truth, he saw no other path forward.

What followed was even more outrageous.

The entire Uchiha clan, led by their patriarch Uchiha Fugaku, turned around and left the scene without a word—taking their entire welcoming party back to their compound.

With the main figure absent and a key supporting clan walking out, the "Grand Ceremony" immediately lost its purpose and luster. Awkward and disjointed, the event ended hastily under the darkened expressions of the two advisors.

The Hyūga clan and other returning shinobi were left to suffer collateral embarrassment—caught in the crossfire of high-level political drama.

But for lower-ranked shinobi like Renjiro, such matters of village politics didn't concern them.

Once the hollow ceremony ended, Renjiro and Maemon escorted Meri back to her home. After that, the two parted ways at a street corner without much fanfare.

In truth, few had any interest in the ceremony to begin with. After surviving the battlefield, who wouldn't want to return home and spend time with their families?

---

Renjiro stepped into his empty house and was instantly struck by a strange sense of melancholy. The place was filled with memories—but none of them belonged to him. They were echoes from the life of the original Renjiro Takane.

"Tch… when did I get so sentimental? Sleep. I need sleep."

Worn out after the five-day trek, his body and mind were both drained. Not long after lying down, he drifted into a deep sleep.

---

The next morning, Renjiro woke early.

Months of life on the front lines had trained his body into a strict rhythm—his biological clock refused to let him rest, even now. The idea of sleeping in was little more than a forgotten luxury.

Unable to fall back asleep, he got up, washed his face, and stepped outside. After grabbing an egg pancake from a local diner, he casually strolled toward the blacksmith shop where his armor had been made.

"Yo! Look who's back alive!"

The blacksmith greeted him warmly. While his words were a bit crude, the smile behind them was genuine—he was truly glad to see Renjiro return safely.

After all, out of more than a hundred Genin who had been sent to the front lines alongside Renjiro, only half made it back. The other half now rested eternally beneath the Memorial Stone.

"The battlefield is truly a graveyard for the weak." The thought echoed coldly in Renjiro's mind as he sat in silence.

Faces of fallen classmates flickered through his memory—bright, hopeful expressions now lost to the cruelty of war. He couldn't help but reflect on the brutal cost of survival… and how thin the line was between the living and the dead.

Under normal circumstances, each district's graduating class would produce only thirty or so students, with even fewer qualifying as full-fledged shinobi. This time, however, Konoha had forcibly pushed through over a hundred graduates—a desperate measure in response to the village's critical manpower shortage.

Yes, those students had received basic training. They were just kids, but they died like soldiers.

The blacksmith quickly realized he might have said more than he should. An awkward silence settled between them before he hastily shifted the subject, forcing a chuckle: "A-Anyway… what brings you here today, kid?"

Renjiro replied calmly: "I need a set of weighted training gear. The kind meant for serious endurance and muscle resistance training. Do you have any in stock?"

After all, while the Taijutsu technique Soru offered incredible speed, it came at a heavy cost. The strain it placed on the body was immense—without rigorous physical conditioning, its full potential couldn't be fully realized.

The blacksmith thumped his chest proudly: "Of course I do! Don't let the size of my shop fool you. Back in the day, I studied under the great ninja tool master—Sulizar-sensei himself!"

"Oh… He sounds impressive."

Renjiro offered a polite compliment—though he had no idea who Sulizar-sensei was.

But if the guy had "master" in his title, he couldn't be all that bad… right?

With that thought, Renjiro paid the deposit, outlined his requirements, and left the shop.

---

Just as Renjiro stepped out of the blacksmith shop, a masked Anbu appeared in his path.

"The Hokage requests your presence."

Renjiro's eyes widened: "The Hokage wants to see me?!"

The Third Hokage—ruler of Konoha and leader of the strongest village in the Shinobi World—was summoning him? An unknown Genin?

He followed the Anbu silently toward the Hokage Tower, but inside, his thoughts were in turmoil. His mind raced with questions.

"What could he possibly want from me? Did he find out… about my soul transmigration?" The thought struck cold in his chest: "No… that shouldn't be possible. But then again, this is a world where Jutsu can peer into minds, manipulate memories, even summon the dead…"

He clenched his fists slightly, forcing himself to breathe steadily: "I have to stay calm. Overthinking won't help now."

Before he could unravel the spiraling thoughts, they arrived at their destination: the Hokage Residence.

Soon, they stood before the door to the Hokage's office.

"The Hokage-sama is inside. You may enter."

"Thank you," Renjiro said, nodding politely to the Anbu. Then he took a deep breath, stepped forward, and knocked.

Knock! Knock!

There was no point in overthinking. This was Konoha—there was nowhere to run. If this was the end, so be it.

A deep, gentle voice rang out from within: "Come in."

Renjiro opened the door slowly and entered the office.

Behind the large desk sat the Third Hokage, puffing gently on a pipe. Before him was a crystal orb, exuding a strange mystical glow. For a fleeting moment, the dignified figure reminded Renjiro of an old fortune-telling witch.

"I am Renjiro Takane, Genin of Konoha." Renjiro said with perfect formality, despite the storm of thoughts in his head.

"Oh, so you're Renjiro."

The Hokage looked up, a glint of curiosity appearing in his eyes. He examined the boy standing before him—the same Genin who had impressed both Morino Ibiki of the Anbu and Nara Shikaku with his unusual performance.

As the Hokage studied him, Renjiro returned the gaze. Compared to the older, weakened version he remembered from canon, this Sarutobi Hiruzen still retained much of his legendary aura as the "Professor" of Konoha—one of the strongest shinobi of his era.

Even while trying to maintain eye contact, Renjiro found himself unconsciously looking away.

Hiruzen smiled inwardly as he observed him: "Sharp eyes… calm, sincere, and brave."

A quiet sense of approval settled in Sarutobi's chest: "A gifted shinobi from a civilian background—just like Minato. Not bound by a clan name, yet he made a name for himself on the battlefield through his own will and ability. He may have a promising future ahead."

"Ahm!"

Sarutobi finally broke the silence with a light cough. He opened a folder and began to read aloud: "Renjiro Takane. Graduated from the Academy in Year 46 of the Konoha Calendar. Assigned to the Land of Water front. Mission record: 26 D-Rank, 2 C-Rank, 1 B-Rank… and 2 A-Rank."

He raised an eyebrow slightly and said with a smile: "That's quite outstanding for a Genin."

"Of course." Renjiro muttered to himself with a wry smile: "I nearly died in every single one of those missions."

But thinking back on what he had endured, Renjiro couldn't help but feel a little proud.

All the shinobi who had participated in those two missions—both large-scale battles against the Hidden Mist—had been evaluated not only on the outcomes of the engagements but also on their individual and team performances.

Fortunately for Renjiro, his contributions in both battles had been nothing short of exceptional. That was the reason two A-Rank missions had been credited to his record—a rarity for someone of his rank.

As for the secret mission he'd completed alongside Ibiki's team, it had been officially classified as a B-Rank assignment. While certainly dangerous, it didn't meet the criteria for an A-Rank evaluation.

After all, if Renjiro had received an A-Rank for that mission as well, how would the evaluators distinguish his exceptional contributions during the actual front-line battles? What would they give him then—S-Rank?

He was still listed as a Genin on official records. There was simply no precedent—or logic—for assigning a Genin an S-Rank mission completion, let alone two.

Still, Renjiro wasn't complaining. For someone fresh out of the Academy, achieving a mission record like his in just a few months was no small feat.

Fuuu!

The Hokage puffed out a smoke ring, then paused mid-read. His eyebrows arched slightly, as if he had discovered something unexpected in the file.

Setting the report down, he looked Renjiro straight in the eyes: "According to this, you possess exceptional sensory capabilities—and even independently developed a new Body Flicker–style taijutsu technique?"

"I think I'm just lucky to have slightly stronger spiritual energy… and maybe a bit of talent in Taijutsu, that's all." Renjiro said with a polite smile, scratching the back of his head.

He wasn't sure how the Third Hokage had found out about Soru, but denying it outright wouldn't do him any good. If anything, letting himself appear a little exceptional might actually work in his favor.

Maybe the village would offer him access to more advanced resources—Ninjutsu scrolls, Taijutsu masters, even some Genjutsu training.

If he played this right, Sarutobi might even assign a capable Jōnin captain to lead their team.

And besides… Arkain was a part of him now.

If it had created the technique, then in a way—so had he.

---

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