It had been two weeks since I, Uchiha Madara, found myself in this strange new world called… Japan!
The once-familiar landscapes of the shinobi world had been replaced by towering buildings and bustling streets. Here, the air was filled with the hum of technology and the chatter of people I didn't recognize. My powers and skills felt oddly misplaced in this realm where jutsu and chakra were mere myths. Each day was a new challenge as I navigated this unfamiliar land, trying to understand its ways and find a way back to my own world. Little did I know, this journey would test my resolve in ways I had never imagined.
Currently, I'd been spending lots of time in an internet café, researching about this world. The hum of computers and the clatter of keyboards surrounded me as I navigated the vast expanse of information available online.
I couldn't help but wonder, "Did I travel forward in time?"
The technology, the culture, the very essence of this place seemed so different from what I had known.
I sifted through articles, news, and historical records— the notion that I had crossed not just dimensions but also time itself began to take root in my mind. Each discovery, each piece of information, added to the growing realization that my afterlife was far more complex than I had initially thought.
I remembered Hashirama and my duel with him. I lost. At the age of 35 years old, I died… "Is this Pure Land then?" Somehow, I doubted that.
The vibrant, bustling world around me was nothing like the serene, tranquil afterlife I had envisioned. The chaos and noise seemed a far cry from the peaceful existence I had expected. As I continued my research, the doubt gnawed at me—if this was not the Pure Land, then where exactly was I?
Japan, the land where I now found myself, was a place of striking contrasts and complexities. The cities were vibrant and sprawling, filled with towering skyscrapers, neon lights, and an ever-present hum of activity. Traditional shrines and temples stood in juxtaposition to the modern landscape, their ancient architecture whispering stories of a bygone era.
Yet beneath the surface of this seemingly ordinary world, there was a hidden layer of darkness and mysticism. Entities like cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers roamed the country, their presence barely noticeable to the untrained eye. Cursed spirits, born from negative human emotions and traumas, lurked in shadows and haunted forgotten places. They were malevolent and dangerous, often preying on the fear and suffering of people.
On the other side, jujutsu sorcerers, wielders of arcane arts, were tasked with combating these malevolent entities. They were skilled individuals who could channel and manipulate energy to fight curses and protect the populace. Their existence was shrouded in secrecy, and their battles with cursed spirits often went unnoticed by the general public.
I exited the internet café, the sun at its peak. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of jujutsu sorcerers. Their techniques resembled the shinobi techniques I knew, albeit with a different focus—sorcerers specialized in manipulating Yin Chakra, a concept that seemed akin to the spiritual energy used in my own world. The resemblance was striking, and it sparked a deep sense of curiosity and intrigue within me.
Over the past few days, I had encountered a few jujutsu sorcerers and had used my Sharingan to interrogate them. The insights I gained were invaluable. I learned that jujutsu sorcerers employed complex rituals and incantations to channel their power, while cursed spirits, their primary adversaries, were born from the darkest aspects of human emotions.
Armed with this knowledge, I had a clearer understanding of the delicate balance between these supernatural forces and the role of sorcerers in maintaining that balance. As I walked through the bustling streets of Japan, I pondered how this hidden world of curses and sorcery intertwined with the everyday lives of its people.
"Let's live long~!"
I found myself in a dark alley, the sounds of the bustling city fading into an eerie silence. Just as I was about to leave, a cry of pain pierced through the stillness. My attention snapped to a figure slumped against the wall. An old man, his face etched with anguish, was weeping a thick, black tar that seeped from his eyes and mouth.
"Let's live long," he muttered, his voice trembling with sorrow and despair.
It was then that I realized this was no ordinary old man. The grotesque, viscous substance and the distorted words marked him as a cursed spirit. The pain and sorrow manifesting in his form spoke volumes about the nature of his curse.
From time to time, I would encounter cursed spirits like this. I drew upon my Sharingan, fully aware of its potent ability to deal with such malevolent entities.
The Sharingan, with its mastery over Yin Chakra, was particularly effective against cursed spirits. Its ability to manipulate and influence the mind through genjutsu gave me a powerful edge. With a mere glance, I could unravel the curses that bound these spirits, exorcising them with relative ease.
As I focused my gaze on the old man, now a grotesque manifestation of sorrow and despair, I activated my Sharingan. The swirling patterns in my eyes began to glow with an intense, crimson light. The genjutsu took hold almost instantly, weaving through the cursed spirit's essence and dispelling the dark energies that had twisted it into this form.
According to how sorcerers ranked themselves, the old man should be around grade 2, a classification that aligned with his apparent strength and the nature of his curse. After dealing with the cursed spirit, I returned to the apartment I was renting for… free.
Using genjutsu to secure free rent wasn't a new experience for me. My Sharingan's influence proved effective even on the people of Japan, who, despite the lack of chakra, were still susceptible to my techniques perhaps it was because of how similar Cursed Energy was with Chakra. It was a practical advantage that allowed me to maintain a semblance of stability in this unfamiliar world.
As I settled into the apartment, I couldn't help but theorize about the origins of this place. The hidden society built on mysticism and the familiar customs that smelled of home made me wonder if the Japanese people might be remnants of the elemental nations, carrying echoes of the past. The connection seemed tenuous but intriguing, suggesting that the history of this land might be more intertwined with my own world than I had initially thought.
I took a shower, changed clothes, and then dragged a recliner up to the rooftop. Settling into the chair, I gazed up at the stars, their distant twinkling offering a rare moment of tranquility amidst the chaos of this new world.
After a while, I turned my attention to the city below. Kyoto sprawled out before me, a captivating blend of old and new. The city's skyline was punctuated by the silhouettes of traditional pagodas and shrines, their ornate roofs standing in stark contrast to the modern high-rises. Streets were lined with a mix of ancient wooden houses and contemporary buildings, creating a patchwork of history and progress.
The Kamo River meandered through the city, its gentle flow reflecting the lights of the bridges and the soft glow of lanterns from riverside eateries. The distant mountains, bathed in the soft light of dusk, framed the city with their lush greenery and added a sense of serenity to the bustling urban landscape. Kyoto, with its rich cultural heritage and vibrant city life, was proof of the enduring spirit of its people.
"I should find a hobby," I decided, so I slept for the night, hoping that some rest would help me come up with something.
I woke up in the morning, refreshed and ready to face the day. After a quick breakfast, I changed into formal clothes: a black suit, a tie, black shoes, and everything. It was a good way to blend in with the people around me, presenting a polished and professional appearance.
As I looked at my reflection, I contemplated what hobby might suit my new circumstances. Perhaps something that would not only pass the time but also offer insight into the people and the culture of Japan.
I hailed a cab like a normal person, though I had no intention of paying. As the taxi pulled up, the driver eyed me with curiosity.
"Where to, boss?" he asked with a friendly tone.
"Kyoto Jujutsu High," I replied, my voice steady and calm.
The driver nodded and began navigating through the bustling streets of Kyoto.
The drive had been uneventful, and soon enough, we arrived at Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College. As I stepped out of the cab and walked through the unprotected gates, I was struck by the stark contrast between the bustling city outside and the serene atmosphere within.
The campus was expansive, with traditional Japanese architecture blending seamlessly with modern elements. The buildings were a mix of sleek, contemporary designs and classic, wooden structures, their clean lines and graceful curves creating an aesthetically pleasing environment. Well-manicured gardens with meticulously arranged stones and gentle water features added to the sense of tranquility.
Despite the impressive setting, the place had a notable lack of personnel. The absence of bustling activity and people was both surprising and disappointing. The campus seemed almost deserted, with only a few scattered students and staff moving about in the distance. The quietude was palpable, and I couldn't help but feel a tinge of unease about the apparent lack of supervision.
If it was the academy from my old world, they'd be sad in seeing this place's utter lack of prospects.
Because of the lack of personnel, I didn't know who to ask. I had come here with the intention of being hired, after all. My best option seemed to be finding someone who might provide directions or information, so I walked inside a classroom.
Inside, there were merely three students: a tall young man with long dark hair, a heavily built muscular brute with relatively tan skin, and a short girl with a very youthful appearance. They were engaged in quiet conversation, but their attention quickly shifted to me as I entered.
"We have a new teacher?" asked the brute, his tone laced with surprise. "That's new."
"That appears to be the case," remarked the young man calmly, his eyes assessing me with a hint of curiosity.
"Greetings, sensei. What happened to Iori-sensei?" the little girl asked, her voice filled with open doubt and confusion.
I remained silent, observing them closely.
I hated the thought of having a misunderstanding. I didn't want to appear unprofessional, especially since I was here with the intention of being hired. I could apologize, but it wasn't quite how things were done back in the academy. Shinobi instructors were known for their strictness and militaristic attitude, a far cry from the more casual interactions I was encountering now.
Perhaps it would be best to treat them with a bit of cold detachment, maintaining a professional demeanor while I figure out my next move. Asking for directions might seem odd given the context, and using genjutsu would be inappropriate, especially when I wanted to make a good impression.
Instead, I decided it would be beneficial to engage in some casual conversation while I waited for their instructor.
"Don't mind me," I said, dragging one of the seats from the back and placing it at the front near the window's side. I settled into the chair in the blackboard's corner, sitting quietly and observing the others. "I don't know about Iori-sense, but she should be here soon."
"My name is Todo, by the way," said the brute, breaking the silence and gesturing towards his companions. "Long hair here is Kamo, and the little girl is Nishimiya."
Kamo simply offered a nod, his eyes drifting to the door.
"I am not a little girl, I just look like one, okay?" Nishimiya interjected, her voice carrying a mix of annoyance and defensiveness.
"Well met," I replied, nodding to each of them in turn. "I am Madara. Uchiha Madara."
The introduction seemed to set a more relaxed tone, and I sensed a shift in their demeanor. Kamo's gaze remained steady, while Nishimiya's irritation softened into curiosity. Todo, on the other hand, appeared genuinely interested, his previous surprise replaced by a more welcoming attitude.