Gunaseelan K
patreon
Chapter 5 – Aburame Ryoma
🕑 Added 2025-09-22 16:37:22 +0000 UTC
Danzo Shimura’s single visible eye glinted sharply in the dim Root chamber. His cane tapped once against the stone floor as he turned to the boy standing before him.
“Ryoma,” he said slowly, “which possibility do you believe is more likely?”
The boy—only seven years old, his face hidden beneath dark glasses—did not hesitate.
“I believe it is the first possibility, Lord Danzo.”
Danzo arched an eyebrow.
Ryoma continued calmly, “Firstly, I don’t think Uchiha Yato is capable of detecting the parasites. The Uchiha clan has little skill in medical ninjutsu or pathology. Secondly, we were discreet. There were no witnesses. Therefore, the chance of discovery should be nearly impossible. His visit to Lady Mito is far more likely to be for another reason.”
Danzo leaned back, considering the analysis. It was logical. And indeed, in Konoha, Uchiha Yato was infamous—not for caution or reliability, but for being reckless, outrageous, and unpredictable.
Yet even recklessness had its dangers.
Danzo’s voice was low. “Ryoma, is there any way to keep Uchiha Yato busy? If his eyes remain on me, it could become troublesome.”
The boy adjusted his glasses. His movements were precise, controlled—an adult’s poise in a child’s body. This was why Danzo favored him, grooming him for leadership even at such a young age.
After a thoughtful pause, Ryoma said, “We can stir up trouble for the Uchiha clan as a whole. Alone, Yato is difficult to deal with. But if we entangle his clan in conflict, he will be distracted.”
For all his composure, his shoulders twitched slightly. A subtle, involuntary spasm. Danzo noticed but said nothing.
---
Memories of Yato
Ryoma himself could never forget the source of that twitch.
He had only been six at the time, returning from a mission. Tired and hungry, he decided to treat himself to dango. Quietly, he entered a shop, sat down, and ordered.
And then fate decided to play a cruel joke on him.
Uchiha Yato walked in.
The man’s gaze fell on him instantly, as though drawn by instinct. Yato strolled over, grinning.
“Kid, what’s your name?”
Ryoma, as reserved as any Aburame, answered flatly. “Aburame Ryoma.”
The reaction was immediate. Yato’s eyes lit up like fireworks.
“Oh-ho! Ryoma, is it? That’s not a background character’s name. You must be important.”
Ryoma tilted his head slightly in confusion. Yato leaned closer, eyes gleaming mischievously. “But wait… what’s this? A little brat wandering around with ninja tools instead of being at the Academy?!” His grin widened, devilish. “Skipping school, are we?”
Ryoma blinked. “No. I—”
Too late.
Yato shot to his feet dramatically, pointing at him. “A truant! So young, already learning bad habits! What next? Tearing down houses when you grow up? Shameful!”
The dango shop owner, long accustomed to Yato’s antics, simply rubbed his temples and sighed. This again.
For this was the same Uchiha Yato who, when caught skipping class himself years ago, had declared with a straight face that he was “testing the school’s truancy detection methods.”
The teacher who caught him hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry. In the end, he had scolded Yato anyway, though deep down, that teacher still considered it one of his career highlights.
Ryoma, however, was not used to such absurdity. He had come for dango. He had completed his mission faithfully. And yet now, he felt like a criminal.
---
Chicken Mud Thai Beauty
Yato gave him no chance to explain. In one smooth motion, he grabbed the bewildered boy and dragged him off toward the Ninja Academy.
Ryoma considered using his clan’s insects to escape. But Yato, anticipating that, activated his Sharingan. His eyes gleamed scarlet, tomoe spinning.
“Genjutsu: Chicken Mud Thai Beauty!”
Ryoma’s vision warped. The world around him dissolved, replaced by… chickens.
Endless chickens.
They strutted. They flapped. And most horrifyingly, they danced. A hypnotic, absurd dance, wings outstretched, claws tapping to some cosmic rhythm.
Ryoma froze. His heart pounded.
Then the true horror revealed itself: to escape the illusion, he had to imitate the chickens perfectly. Ninety-nine percent accuracy required. Every tilt of the head. Every waggle of the wing. Every hop.
If he tried to attack the chickens, they split. One became two, two became four, multiplying until the world was filled with pecking, preening, dancing poultry.
He tried once. Just once. Thousands of tiny chicks exploded across the illusory ground—each the size of the Aburame’s own kikaichū parasites. They swarmed around him, chirping, dancing, imitating, until he could no longer tell where they ended and he began.
And then, against his will, Ryoma found himself dancing too.
The rhythm was insidious. Catchy. Impossible to resist. His limbs twitched, his body moved, his shoulders jerked…
When Yato finally dragged him into the Academy and presented him before a bewildered instructor, the poor boy was still twitching to the beat.
“Here’s your truant student!” Yato announced proudly. “Caught him myself, even used genjutsu to keep him from running. You owe me one.”
The teacher gawked, then demanded Yato release the boy from the illusion.
With an exaggerated sigh, Yato complied.
Ryoma stumbled out of the genjutsu, pale and sweating. He could have argued. He could have explained. But the humiliation was too much. He bowed his head and confessed to truancy he had not committed, accepting punishment without protest.
The teacher scolded him mildly, unaware of the deeper torment inflicted. Ryoma endured it silently.
In Root, training was brutal—painful, merciless. But this… this was different.
The chickens.
They haunted him.
Even now, a year later, his shoulders twitched involuntarily whenever the memory resurfaced.
---
Root’s Misunderstanding
Danzo had noticed the twitching. To him, it was merely a flaw—an unfortunate habit that marred an otherwise promising operative.
Still, Ryoma’s intelligence and discipline outweighed his quirks. Already, Danzo relied on him for advice. Already, he considered grooming him into a strategist as well as an assassin.
What Danzo didn’t know was that every twitch carried with it the memory of that dance—the endless, clucking rhythm of Uchiha Yato’s cursed genjutsu.
Even shinobi from the Sand, who had once fallen victim to the same illusion during the war, had expressed sympathy when they heard of Ryoma’s plight. They called it “a torment worse than poison.”
For genjutsu did not merely affect the mind. Movements made in the illusion manifested in the body. The soreness, the humiliation, the exhaustion—all real. And Yato had crafted this genjutsu with cruel creativity.
---
A New Mission
Danzo’s voice cut through Ryoma’s reverie.
“Enough. The Uchiha are all alike. Evil, prideful. This works to our advantage.” His eye narrowed. “We can kill two birds with one stone. Bring down Yato, and weaken the clan in the process.”
He turned his gaze back to Ryoma. For a rare moment, a hint of satisfaction glimmered in his eye.
“Ryoma,” he said. “I entrust this matter to you. Proceed with caution. Do not let the Uchiha gain leverage over you. You may select a squad from Root. From this day, you are their captain.”
Ryoma straightened, shoulders twitching once more. This time, he forced the movement into stillness. His chest swelled with pride despite the memory clawing at him.
“Yes, Lord Danzo. I will not fail your trust. I will ensure the mission is completed.”
For a boy only seven years old, it was a heavy responsibility. But in Root, childhood ended the day you joined.
And for Aburame Ryoma, every step forward was also a step away from the haunting dance that still lingered in his mind.
---
