The Soul is a Wondrous Thing
In his modest Konoha residence, Ryujin Kenichi dipped his brush into ink and began writing in Kanji, a script not commonly used or understood in the world of shinobi. To him, it served as a personal code—unbreakable and absolute.
"In the past, there was no definitive proof of the soul's existence. The so-called '21 grams theory' gained attention in my previous life, but it was never widely accepted or scientifically proven. Most believed the missing weight was simply expelled air or moisture."
He paused. That theory was a relic of another life—a world far removed from the chakra-rich world he now inhabited.
"But here, in the shinobi world, souls are real. Tangible. Observable, even. When someone dies, their soul doesn't vanish. It lingers, and eventually crosses into the Pure Land."
Ryujin Kenichi tapped the brush against the inkstone, lost in thought. This was more than metaphysics—it was reality. The implications of proving the soul's existence would have shattered the foundations of his former world.
Who wouldn't want to speak to their loved ones again?
Who wouldn't want closure?
And if death was not the end—but the start of something else—what kind of chaos would that bring?
He shook his head. These questions were better suited to philosophers. Right now, he had more personal concerns.
"If the soul governs the body, can the body, in turn, influence the soul?"
His thoughts wandered to his teacher—Orochimaru.
Ever since becoming the Sannin's apprentice, Kenichi had been obsessed with the boundaries of life and death. Orochimaru's work with the Living Corpse Reincarnation (Fushi Tensei) jutsu—essentially transferring his soul into a new body—only deepened the mystery. Could a host body eventually alter the soul residing within?
"Could a body reshape behavior? Habits? Could it… feminize someone's mind if the vessel was female?"
It sounded absurd, yet entirely plausible. After all, even Orochimaru's own personality seemed to shift depending on his host body. His descent into darkness only intensified after his defection from Konoha—was that purely will, or was there more?
"This line of research... I'd have to conduct it in secret. If sensei ever found out…"
A chill crept down his spine. Orochimaru was cold and calculating, yet strangely nurturing toward his disciples. He was a contradiction—demanding, punishing, but always fair. Every promise he made to Kenichi, he had kept.
Still, Kenichi knew better than to underestimate the Sannin. Orochimaru's intellect was legendary. If he ever learned Kanji…
Without hesitation, Kenichi tore the page from his notebook and tossed it into the flames of his stove, watching as the paper crumbled into ash.
But the idea still burned within him.
He would proceed—quietly. If he succeeded, he might unlock secrets of the soul that even Orochimaru hadn't discovered.
The next morning, the village gathered in the main square. Amidst the crowd, Kenichi stood watching as the aged Third Hokage stepped onto the platform.
"He just reattached his arm yesterday, and today he's reclaiming the Hokage title?" Kenichi muttered. "Old man's in a rush."
Still, it made sense. With Danzo eyeing power and Orochimaru's reputation unstable even among allies, the Third needed to move quickly to maintain order.
"Konoha can't afford a power vacuum—not after what happened yesterday."
The ceremony had just reached the part about the Will of Fire when Orochimaru, arms crossed, turned away.
"Kenichi, let's go. Today's experiment isn't going to finish itself," he said coolly.
Kenichi didn't argue. He'd heard the Will of Fire speech so many times he could recite it in his sleep.
Back in the underground laboratory, the mood shifted. The moment the heavy door sealed behind them, Kenichi grew serious.
Working with Root on experiments was exhausting—their pace was glacial, and their methods rigid. If not for the funding, Kenichi suspected Orochimaru would've abandoned the project entirely.
"But the old snake is using Root's resources for his own side work…"
That part was clear. Orochimaru strictly prohibited him from accessing certain areas of the lab—areas Kenichi suspected were linked to the forbidden jutsu Impure World Reincarnation (Edo Tensei).
The forbidden resurrection jutsu could summon souls from the Pure Land and bind them to living sacrifices. It was as close to mastering death as anyone had ever gotten.
Just as Kenichi was pondering that, Orochimaru re-entered, now in a lab coat and gloves.
"Kenichi," he said, his voice calm yet commanding, "I have a new research task for you."
Ryujin Kenichi stood up straight as soon as Orochimaru entered the room.
"This task is quite simple," Orochimaru said, his tone calm but sharp. "You will study how to stabilize and control the proliferation of that particular cell strain."
Kenichi blinked, momentarily stunned by the assignment.
"Sensei... you mean...?" he asked, uncertain of what Orochimaru was truly implying.
"Just conduct your research," Orochimaru said with a slight smirk, his golden eyes narrowing. "If you're successful, the results may very well shake the foundation of current scientific understanding."
Kenichi understood immediately. The implications were far-reaching. He and Orochimaru shared a similar line of thinking.
Everyone in the field knew: cancer cells were essentially cells that had overridden the body's regulatory systems. Given sufficient nutrients, they could proliferate endlessly, their potential for growth seemingly infinite.
So then—could cancer cells be a key to human evolution?
Or were they, perhaps, the key to true immortality?
The problem, however, was that no ordinary human body could withstand the destruction and metabolic demands of these rampaging cells.
Cancer cells: "I'm trying to help you all live forever, but you keep dying on me before I can show results."
"Understood, sensei," Kenichi said with a nod. This experiment, while dangerous, wasn't beyond his capabilities.
After all, during the course of his recent research, Kenichi had discovered that the behavior of cancer cells was disturbingly similar to the cells taken from the First Hokage—Senju Hashirama. In fact, it was almost as if Hashirama himself was a walking embodiment of controlled cellular chaos.
Hashirama's cells were legendary for their regenerative properties. Their vitality far surpassed that of any normal shinobi. So potent were these cells that only select individuals could even survive their transplantation.
Kenichi couldn't help but wonder: was the First Hokage even fully human?
How could a man's body harbor cells so absurdly powerful?
Hashirama's cells acted like refined cancer cells: capable of infinite division, yet maintaining structure and function—without the usual destructive consequences. It was as if his body had achieved a balance that no scientist had ever been able to replicate.
In theory, such cellular perfection could be the key to immortality.
And yet... the First Hokage had died.
The exact circumstances of his death were never fully documented. Was it in battle? Illness? Or... something else?
Could someone with cells that strong truly die a normal death?
Kenichi exhaled slowly and turned back to his lab table. "I hope sensei leaves soon," he muttered. "There are too many eyes on us here. Too many rules."
But he knew that day was coming. Orochimaru's intentions were clear—and when he left the village, Kenichi would follow. There was still so much left to uncover.