Watching Uchiha Itachi stand perfectly straight like a miniature adult, his dark eyes revealing a maturity far beyond his years, Riku couldn't help but feel a pang of emotion.
"It seems Itachi has already been to the battlefield,"
he thought after a single glance.
"Such a good child… ruined like this! Ruthless Fugaku, I really don't know what you were thinking. To take your four-year-old son to the battlefield—calling it 'tempering his spirit'—but completely ignoring the cruelty of war that has already scarred him inside!"
Riku's chest tightened. He knew exactly what that meant. The blood, the screams, the endless death—it was not something a child's eyes should ever have seen.
"To witness Hyuga clan members dying, to see the brutality of war… and at four years old, this boy began to ponder the meaning of war, of life and death itself? At his age? No matter how gifted, no matter how intelligent, no one should be forced into that."
Riku sighed quietly. "What a pitiful child."
He didn't even try to hide the sympathy in his gaze, and the ever-sensitive Itachi immediately noticed.
The young boy tilted his head slightly, his expression tightening as confusion flickered through his dark eyes. After a second, his gaze dropped to Riku's attire—the distinctive clothing of the Hyuga Clan. His pupils narrowed.
"A Hyuga?" he thought sharply.
"That look just now… was he pitying me? Because I'm young?"
The thought burned inside him. Pride—deep, unshakable Uchiha pride—flared to life in an instant.
Within moments, Itachi's brief bewilderment turned into irritation. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense to him. That Hyuga boy had looked at him with pity, as if looking down from above.
Itachi's small hands clenched at his sides. The feelings of helplessness and confusion that had been swirling within him vanished, replaced by pure indignation.
"Hyuga…" he muttered under his breath, his tone cold.
Every Uchiha carried a rivalry deep in their bones—an instinctive resistance toward the Hyuga Clan, their constant competitors for the title of the strongest dōjutsu family. And Itachi, son of the Uchiha patriarch Fugaku, had inherited that pride more intensely than anyone else.
Seeing a Hyuga stare at him with what looked like pity was unbearable.
Letting go of his father's sleeve, the five-year-old boy strode toward Riku with surprising determination.
When he stopped in front of Riku, he quickly realized the problem—he was half a head shorter.
For an instant, Itachi's face stiffened. Then, with a sharp instinct for dignity, he took a half-step back to widen the gap between them. His voice, though still childish, carried a hint of cold arrogance.
"You brat from the Hyuga Clan… what do you mean by that look? Are you looking down on me?"
Riku looked at the little boy standing before him—his eyes blazing, his cheeks slightly puffed with frustration—and couldn't help but chuckle inwardly.
Taking a slow step forward, he closed the distance until he was almost nose to nose with the young Uchiha. Looking down slightly, Riku smiled faintly and said,
"Do you think I should be looking up to you, then?"
His tone was casual, even teasing, but the meaning behind his words struck right at Itachi's pride.
To Riku, it was just playful banter. After all, how could he not feel a bit of excitement standing face-to-face with such a familiar figure from the stories of his past life? Interacting directly with Uchiha Itachi—a name legendary in his memories—was something he had never imagined would happen.
Yet what felt harmless to Riku was an enormous provocation to Itachi.
The little boy's face turned bright red, anger and embarrassment warring inside him. The height difference stung, but his pride as an Uchiha wouldn't allow him to admit it.
"Hmph! So what if you're taller? I'll grow too—and I'll become a powerful ninja! You, on the other hand, will be crushed beneath my feet one day!"
Riku blinked, amused. The serious, overly mature child had vanished, replaced by a flustered little boy filled with fire.
Without thinking, Riku reached out and pinched Itachi's soft, round cheek.
"Alright, alright," he said with a teasing grin. "You're from the Uchiha Clan, destined for greatness—I get it."
Itachi's face went from red to crimson. His eyes widened in disbelief.
"Y-You—!"
No one had ever treated him like this. No one dared to.
"You're so annoying! Take your hands off me!" he snapped, slapping Riku's hand away.
His voice trembled slightly—not just from anger, but from a kind of childish embarrassment he couldn't quite name.
Riku, however, only laughed softly. He wasn't angry at all. In fact, he felt strangely at ease.
"That's better," he thought.
"This is what being a child should look like."
A five-year-old shouldn't be burdened with thoughts of war, of death, or of the meaning of life. Those were weights even adults struggled to bear.
"Laugh when you're happy," Riku thought silently. "Cry when you're sad. Reject what you don't like, chase what you do. Why is that so hard for people to remember?"
Even in a world of ninja—no, especially in this world—they were still human first. They still had the right to feel joy, anger, sorrow, and fear.
Watching Itachi's small but fierce expression, Riku couldn't help but think of how things would unfold in the years to come.
In his previous life, when Riku watched the Naruto anime, his feelings toward Itachi had always been complicated.
He admired Itachi's genius, respected his endurance, but also despised the choices he made—the cruelty he showed, the twisted compassion that drove him to slaughter his own clan.
Admiration, pity, resentment—they all tangled together. In the end, what Riku felt most was regret.
"Such a brilliant soul," he thought, "but born into a cursed fate."
More than once, he had asked himself, What would I do if I were in Itachi's place?
No matter how he imagined it, Riku knew one thing for sure: he could never do what Itachi did. He could never kill his family for the sake of an illusion called peace.
Any person with even a fragment of conscience would hesitate to do such a thing.
Without interference, Itachi would eventually have been dragged into the darkness—crushed by the manipulation of the Third Hokage and Danzo, cornered by a stern father, a conflicted friend, and a corrupt leadership.
Every shadow in his life pushed him toward the tragedy history remembered.
But now, things were different. Riku had appeared.
He didn't just want to stand by and watch destiny unfold. He wanted to challenge it—to change it.
Partly, it was a selfish wish from his past life—to save the character he had once pitied. But another part of him burned with ambition.
Riku wanted to see what kind of world a normal Itachi could create. A boy who laughed, who felt, who made choices for himself instead of drowning in duty.
Would such an Itachi lead the Uchiha Clan to glory? Or would the conflict between Konoha's elders and the Uchiha still end in blood?
Riku didn't know. But whatever happened, the resulting turmoil would shake the entire village—and in that chaos, he saw his own opportunity.
"With all eyes on the Uchiha… I can finally break the shackles of the Hyuga Clan," he thought, eyes narrowing slightly.
That was Riku's true goal.
Emotions were fine, even necessary—but in the face of dreams, they had to take a back seat.
As his mind raced, Riku studied Itachi again.
Around them, murmurs began to spread. Two young boys, one Hyuga and one Uchiha, standing face-to-face with visible tension—it was the kind of scene that immediately drew attention.
Ninjas, clansmen, and even a few elders nearby paused to watch. Whispers fluttered through the air.
The rivalry between the two great clans was well-known, and now even their children seemed to embody it.
And among the onlookers, one man's gaze sharpened.
Fugaku Uchiha, having been speaking to a fellow clan member, noticed the disturbance. Turning, he saw his son's angry expression and immediately walked over, his eyes darkening.
Without asking for details, his voice cut sharply through the murmurs.
"Itachi. Calm down."
At the sound of his father's command, Itachi froze for a heartbeat. The anger on his face faltered, replaced by confusion.
Riku, standing before him, simply smiled.
To the adults around them, it was nothing more than a childish spat. But Riku knew that this brief encounter—this spark between a Hyuga and an Uchiha—might one day grow into something far greater.
And deep inside, he made a silent vow.
"This time," he thought, "Itachi won't have to walk that lonely