For Nawaki, his memories stopped at the moment he died.
As for what happened after his soul entered the Pure Land of the Shinobi World, he had no idea—because in the Pure Land, souls are in a state of slumber.
That was the conclusion Orochimaru reached after summoning Nawaki back.
Yes, even though seeing Nawaki again shook Orochimaru to his core, the shinobi world's top scientist instinctively began analyzing the situation.
Then, Orochimaru walked up to Nawaki. In the midst of the kid's confused expression, he conducted a thorough check—he even drew some blood, startling the freshly revived boy.
Yet, Nawaki didn't question Orochimaru's actions. He simply waited anxiously for his teacher to speak. It was a wordless trust. He also realized he had been summoned by the unfamiliar man nearby, in a realm that was anything but ordinary.
The system skill that summoned him came with a built-in info packet—it directly infused relevant information into the soul's consciousness. Super convenient. No need for the user to waste time explaining the whole "I summoned the dead" situation.
As long as the summoned soul thought about it, the details would surface in their mind automatically.
That's what happened with Nawaki. Once he realized he was truly dead and had been summoned by a stranger, his mood turned chaotic and complicated.
But since Orochimaru-sensei was present, Nawaki felt grounded rather than scared. He felt... safe.
After a full examination, Orochimaru asked Nawaki several questions. The boy answered truthfully, and only then did Orochimaru confirm it was really Nawaki.
It wasn't that he didn't trust Uchiha Kei. But when something this absurd occurs, one must treat it with scientific rigor. Even if Uchiha Kei wasn't lying, who's to say he hadn't been deceived by some unknown force?
As a scientist, Orochimaru demanded precision and scrutiny.
After that, Orochimaru spoke with his student at length. That was how he expressed his longing. But being who he was, Orochimaru couldn't bring himself to speak emotionally. His tone was more like giving a briefing—peppered with subtle tests for his disciple.
Anyone else might've thought they'd done something wrong and started panicking.
But Nawaki, being Orochimaru's favorite student, understood his teacher well. He wasn't fazed by the cold tone. Instead, he recognized the concern buried within it. So, he grinned with the same goofy smile that Naruto Uzumaki would one day be known for, and chatted freely with his teacher.
That attitude stirred something even deeper in Orochimaru.
Eventually, Orochimaru lowered his voice and said, "I'm sorry, Nawaki... I failed to protect you back then..."
Nawaki blinked, then quickly shook his head and answered seriously: "No, Orochimaru-sensei, it's not your fault. I never blamed you. No one wanted the war to happen. So many people died in the Great Ninja War. I was just one of the unlucky ones."
"So please, don't feel bad. And hey, I've been summoned into this amazing genjutsu world, right?"
"I mean, I can't leave it, but from what you told me, Orochimaru-sensei, this world is incredible! Honestly, I feel super lucky to be here!"
By the end, Nawaki was reclining with both hands behind his head, smiling like a happy fool.
The more carefree he acted, the more it tore at Orochimaru inside.
The man known in many fanfics as the "Cold Lord" opened his mouth as if to speak, but ultimately just patted Nawaki's head in silence.
For Orochimaru, even this small act of affection was a miracle. In canon, he only displayed such tenderness during the Boruto era.
In a way, Nawaki was his white moonlight—the dead one. The emotional buff was maxed out.
Uchiha Kei watched from the side and couldn't help but think Nawaki really resembled a young Naruto, especially when he showed that endearing idiocy. It was like they came from the same mold.
And it made sense. Nawaki was a reincarnation of Asura's chakra, just like Hashirama Senju and Naruto Uzumaki. He simply wasn't as lucky and died young.
That fact alone proved the shinobi world was a brutal cesspool. Even if you carried the Sage of Six Paths' son's chakra, death still came for you. There was no protagonist armor here.
And just like that, an hour passed quietly.
As the skill's duration ended, Nawaki felt a pulling force—but he instantly rejected it.
In a flash, the sensation vanished. He remained, still present in this vast genjutsu-based spiritual world.
Uchiha Kei clenched his fists with joy. A smile lit up his face. Orochimaru understood what had just happened and chuckled softly.
Clearly, Uchiha Kei's experiment was a success. Nawaki hadn't been pulled back to the Pure Land after one hour.
Orochimaru immediately pulled Nawaki over and expressed his gratitude to Uchiha Kei.
Though he'd already thanked him before, this time was different.
Nawaki didn't know the behind-the-scenes details. He just knew Orochimaru-sensei was thanking a benefactor, and as someone raised to repay kindness, he wholeheartedly joined in.
The mood was warm and respectful.
Then came the real ask—they requested Nawaki's help in curing his sister Tsunade's psychological trauma.
That stunned him.
"What?! Sis? My sister has a psychological condition? What's that? No wait—my sister's an amazing medical ninja! How could there be any illness she can't heal?!"
Classic literacy gap. A perfect showcase of the shinobi world's education system.
Still, Nawaki died at twelve. It made sense he'd know nothing about this stuff.
So Uchiha Kei skipped the roasting and explained everything—Tsunade's hemophobia, how it happened, and what caused it.
Upon learning the truth, Nawaki was overwhelmed by guilt and shock. He never imagined his death would cause his sister to develop hemophobia. It was unbearable.
It hit him so hard, he wanted to slap himself awake.
You could see the depression cloud his face.
This was clearly a boy who would rather suffer himself than let his sister endure pain. A textbook case of loving and loyal sibling dynamics.
But Kei and Orochimaru hadn't brought Nawaki back just to have him wallow in guilt.
Now that the skill-bug trick had succeeded and Nawaki wouldn't vanish, it was time to implement their plan to help Tsunade.
They explained everything to Nawaki—how they summoned his soul to help Tsunade. And after understanding the full picture, he thumped his chest and swore he'd do everything he could.
Then his smile faded. He was clearly worried—he had no idea how to treat hemophobia. What if he messed it up?
Kei assured him not to worry. He and Orochimaru would handle all the planning. All Nawaki had to do was play his part.
That was Nawaki's specialty. He exhaled in relief and promised he'd do his best.
Next came the actual plan.
Kei had it ready. He laid it out.
After hearing the plan, Orochimaru hesitated. "Are you sure about this, Kei-kun? What if it backfires and makes her condition worse?"
Kei waved him off. "Tsunade's hemophobia is already at its worst. It can't get any worse. And even if she saw Nawaki again, it might still take a long time to recover."
"But we don't have that kind of time. The Third Great Ninja War could erupt any day now. She needs to recover fast—so I'm going with the hard reset."
Orochimaru nodded. "Alright. Let's do it."
Nawaki didn't fully grasp the situation, but if Orochimaru-sensei agreed, then he'd go along with it too.
And so, the "Save Private Tsunade" plan was born.
Not long after, inside a tavern in the Hidden Leaf Village, Tsunade sat alone, drinking.
Lost in thought, her memories muddled by alcohol, she frowned when someone interrupted her.
She raised her head in annoyance—and froze.
Sitting beside her were Orochimaru and... Uchiha Kei?
She snorted. "Orochimaru, what the hell are you doing here? Did the old man send you? And why are you with Uchiha Kei?"
Her gaze shifted past her teammate to Kei.
It was... complicated.
In the past, she thought of Kei as nothing more than Jiraiya's student's friend. A mediocre Uchiha. Stuck on a single tomoe Sharingan. Not worth her time. She knew him, that was it.
Now? Everything was different.
Kei had created genjutsu-based games—a groundbreaking achievement. He'd led the Uchiha clan to dramatic transformation, fostering alliances in ways the clan hadn't achieved in decades. He'd united powerful ninja families.
And most of all, his genjutsu games were incredible—uncannily real and emotionally potent.
Tsunade's own hemophobia had flared up because of one.
It was like fate mocking her.
That's why her look was so conflicted.
But she didn't blame him. Not really.
The game may have triggered it, but the true cause was the trauma of war.