Rei made his way through the compound's corridors toward the main residence where his new family took their morning meals. His small feet moved quietly across polished wooden floors, passing through hallways that had become familiar over the past week. Traditional shoji screens filtered morning light into soft patterns, while modern fixtures recessed into the ceiling provided additional illumination that never flickered or dimmed. Staff members bowed as he passed, murmuring respectful greetings that he acknowledged with small nods.
His mind, however, was elsewhere—turning over everything he'd learned about this world's power system with the methodical analysis of someone trained to identify strengths, weaknesses, and exploitable patterns.
Awakened energy. Aether, as they called it here.
The comparison to chakra was inevitable, and Rei had spent considerable mental effort over the past week mapping the similarities and differences between the two systems.
In his past life, nearly everyone possessed chakra. It flowed through every living thing in varying quantities—a fundamental energy that connected all existence. Some people had more natural talent than others, some had larger reserves or better control, but the baseline capability was universal. Even civilians who never trained as shinobi possessed chakra; they simply lacked the knowledge or discipline to access and utilize it effectively.
Training could unlock that potential in most people. The Academy in Konoha had accepted students from civilian families alongside clan children, teaching them to mold chakra, to perform basic jutsu, to become functional shinobi regardless of their bloodline. Natural talent mattered, certainly—the difference between someone like himself and an average genin had been vast—but the fundamental capability was democratically distributed.
This world operated on different principles entirely.
Aether, Rei had discovered, could only be manifested by a select few. Even among those born into awakened lineages—families that had produced awakeners for generations—there was no guarantee of inheriting the ability. Hidetoshi had explained this with the calm acceptance of someone stating simple facts about reality.
"Perhaps two in three children from awakened families actually undergo awakening," his father had said. "Sometimes fewer, depending on the strength of the lineage. And among mundanes—those with no awakened ancestry—spontaneous awakening is extraordinarily rare. Perhaps one in a million, if that."
The implications were significant. Power in this world was even more concentrated than it had been among shinobi, locked behind genetic lottery and circumstances that remained only partially understood even by those who studied such things extensively.
But the true limiting factor, Rei had learned, was the core.
Awakening—the moment when latent potential crystallized into usable power—required the formation of a core within the body. This core served as the storage and processing center for aether, the organ (though not quite a physical organ in the traditional sense) that allowed an individual to accumulate, refine, and deploy awakened energy.
Without a core, aether remained inaccessible. With a core, an entire world of power opened up.
The standard awakening age was nine years or older. Hidetoshi had explained that the body needed to reach certain developmental thresholds before it could support core formation—physical maturity, mental development, some ineffable quality of readiness that varied between individuals but generally manifested around that age.
"Awakening younger than nine is considered a sign of exceptional talent," his father had told him, something like hope flickering in his expression. "It suggests the individual's natural affinity for aether is strong enough to overcome the usual developmental barriers. The youngest recorded awakening in our family's history was at age seven—my great-grandfather, who became one of the most powerful awakeners of his generation."
Rei had nodded with appropriate childlike wonder while his mind raced through calculations.
Can I accelerate the process? Can I force core formation through deliberate manipulation rather than waiting for natural development?
He was five years old now. Waiting four more years felt intolerable—four years of being powerless, vulnerable, dependent on others for protection and unable to properly defend himself if circumstances turned dangerous. His shinobi instincts recoiled from that helplessness.
But attempting to force premature core formation carried obvious risks. This was a five-year-old body with all the physical limitations that implied. Pushing it too hard could cause damage that would cripple his development rather than enhance it.
Still, Rei thought as he rounded a corner toward the dining hall, I have knowledge and experience that no one else in this world possesses. I understand energy manipulation at a level that took years of training and practical application to develop. If anyone could find a way to accelerate core formation safely, it would be someone with my background.
The first step was determining whether he could awaken at all. Lineage played a role—he was Tsugikane by birth now, descended from a powerful awakened family with centuries of documented ability. That improved his odds considerably compared to a random civilian child. But it wasn't a guarantee.
He would need to experiment carefully, to feel for the latent potential within this body and assess whether the capacity for awakening existed. Only then could he begin attempting to cultivate it deliberately.
The core's location had been another revelation.
"The core forms within the heart," Hidetoshi had explained, placing his hand over his chest to indicate the general area. "Not replacing the heart or existing separate from it, but integrated somehow. We don't fully understand the metaphysics involved—whether the core is a physical structure that medical technology simply can't detect, or something that exists partially outside normal space. But every awakener can feel it there, can sense their aether reservoir contained within their chest."
That had triggered immediate comparison to chakra's relationship with the heart in his previous life.
In the shinobi world, the heart had been crucial to chakra manipulation—one of the primary organs where physical and spiritual energy combined to create chakra. Damage to the heart could severely compromise a shinobi's ability to mold chakra effectively. The Chakra Pathway System, that intricate network of channels through which chakra flowed, connected directly to the heart as one of its central nexuses.
Here, the heart served a similar purpose but with a critical difference.
"The heart is responsible for circulating aether throughout the body," Hidetoshi had continued. "Just as it pumps blood, it also pumps awakened energy—distributing power from the core to wherever it's needed. Strengthening the heart, maintaining cardiovascular health, these things directly impact an awakener's combat capability and endurance."
But—and this was the crucial distinction—awakeners in this world didn't possess anything equivalent to the Chakra Pathway System.
No network of meridians and tenketsu points already enmeshed within their bodies from birth, providing natural channels through which energy could flow with maximum efficiency. The aether that their hearts pumped into their bloodstream simply dispersed through their cardiovascular system—effective enough for basic function, but lacking the refined control and efficient distribution that the Chakra Pathway System had provided in his previous life.
Awakeners here were working with a more primitive arrangement—raw power circulated through the cardiovascular system without dedicated channels, forced through blood vessels that had evolved for entirely different purposes.
This limitation had profound implications for how awakeners used their power.
That explained something Hidetoshi had mentioned repeatedly: the critical importance of force control.
"That's why force control is so critical," Hidetoshi had emphasized during one of their discussions. "Without natural pathways to guide our aether, we must learn to consciously direct and contain it through sheer willpower and technique. Poor force control means wasted energy, inefficient techniques, and slower growth. Mastering it is the difference between a mediocre awakener and a truly powerful one."
Force control, as Rei understood it, was the discipline of consciously directing aether through the body and into specific techniques with minimal waste. It required intense concentration, body awareness, and countless hours of practice to develop the muscle memory and mental patterns that allowed for efficient energy use.
In his previous life, the Chakra Pathway System had handled much of this work automatically. Once you learned to mold chakra and form the proper hand seals, the energy naturally flowed through established channels to produce the desired effect. Efficiency was still important, and masters like Kakashi or Orochimaru had achieved levels of chakra control that bordered on supernatural, but the baseline functionality was built into every shinobi's physiology.
Force control—the ability to consciously direct aether's flow through the body, to concentrate it in specific areas, to prevent waste and inefficiency—was apparently one of the most difficult and most essential skills an awakener could develop.
It made sense given the lack of dedicated pathways. Without channels specifically designed for energy transport, awakeners had to manually guide every application of power, consciously managing what should have been an automatic process.
Rei recognized, both a limitation and an opportunity. A limitation because it made awakened abilities inherently less efficient and more demanding than equivalent chakra-based techniques. But an opportunity because it suggested that someone with sufficient discipline and understanding might be able to develop force control techniques that transcended what this world's awakeners typically achieved.
That's actually an advantage for me, Rei had realized. Chakra control was one of my strongest attributes in my previous life. I spent years developing the precision necessary to perform complex jutsu, to maintain multiple techniques simultaneously, to manipulate chakra at scales ranging from massive elemental techniques down to the microscopic level required for genjutsu. I'll have knowledge from a world where energy manipulation was refined to an art form over centuries. The principles of chakra control might translate to force control in ways that could give me significant advantages.
If force control was this world's equivalent of chakra control, then he already possessed the mental framework and discipline necessary to excel at it.
But that was speculation built on hypotheticals. First, he needed to actually awaken, and there was no guarantee that would happen regardless of what knowledge he possessed.
The types of abilities awakeners manifested had been fascinating to learn about.
Two broad categories existed, Hidetoshi had explained: Physical-type and Psychic-type awakening.
Physical-type was straightforward—enhancement of the body's existing capabilities. Awakeners of this type channeled aether to increase their strength beyond human norms, to move with superhuman speed, to endure damage that would kill ordinary people. They could reinforce their bones and muscles, accelerate their healing, enhance their reflexes to perceive and react to threats with preternatural quickness.
It was, Rei recognized, similar to how shinobi used chakra enhancement—the way Rock Lee had developed taijutsu to its absolute peak, the way the Raikage could cloak himself in lightning to achieve devastating speed and power. Physical-type awakeners were essentially specialists in that particular application of their world's energy system.
Psychic-type awakening was more diverse and more analogous to ninjutsu in its variety of applications.
These abilities allowed users to manipulate forces beyond the purely physical—to move objects through telekinesis, to generate and control elements, to reshape reality according to their will and the specific nature of their awakened power.
"There are countless variations of psychic abilities," Hidetoshi had told him, genuine wonder entering his voice as he described the sheer diversity. "Some awakeners can manipulate air and wind, creating pressure differentials or generating cutting currents. Others can affect gravity within limited areas, making objects or people heavier or lighter at will. Ice manipulation, fire generation—the elemental applications alone are incredibly varied."
He'd paused, then added with a slight smile, "There are even more esoteric abilities. Animal Communion, for instance, allows users to communicate with animals, to understand their thoughts and even exert control over their actions. Perception abilities that let awakeners see through walls or detect lies. Healing abilities that can mend injuries through direct application of aether."
The description had reminded Rei immediately of kekkei genkai and various specialized jutsu from his previous life—bloodline abilities that allowed certain individuals to perform feats others couldn't replicate, techniques that required specific affinities or inherent capabilities.
But here, those abilities were the standard rather than the exception. Every awakener had some manifestation of power unique to them, shaped by a combination of lineage, personal affinity, and factors that remained mysterious even to researchers who'd spent lifetimes studying awakening.
"Lineage plays a significant role," Hidetoshi had emphasized. "Families tend to produce awakeners with similar ability types across generations. Our Tsugikane line, for example, is known for fire manipulation. Not every Tsugikane awakener develops fire abilities—there's always variation—but it's common enough that we're recognized for it."
Fire, Rei had thought with something close to nostalgia. My primary chakra nature in my previous life. The element I'd trained with since childhood, that I could manipulate with precision that few other Uchiha could match.
If he awakened with fire abilities here, at least he'd be working with something familiar. The mechanics would be different—aether instead of chakra, psychic manipulation instead of molding energy through hand seals—but the fundamental understanding of fire's properties, its strengths and weaknesses, how to control combustion and heat... that knowledge would transfer.
Though he'd need to be careful. The Tsugikane were known for fire abilities, which meant displaying too much natural talent with fire manipulation might raise questions about how a five-year-old had developed such intuitive understanding without training.
The dining hall's entrance came into view—tall wooden doors with brass fixtures, currently standing open to admit the morning breeze. Voices filtered out, his parents already seated and beginning their meal.
Rei paused for a moment in the corridor, taking a breath to center himself and ensure his expression was appropriate for a child joining his family for breakfast rather than someone who'd been conducting complex analysis of interdimensional power systems.
Then he stepped through the doorway.
The dining room was spacious but maintained an intimate atmosphere through careful design. A low table dominated the center, traditional in style, with cushions arranged around it for seating. Morning light streamed through large windows that offered views of the compound's inner gardens—carefully maintained landscapes of stone, water, and meticulously pruned plants that somehow managed to exist in harmony with the modern city visible beyond the compound walls.
Hidetoshi sat at the head of the table, already dressed for the day in a charcoal suit that somehow managed to look both professional and slightly casual. His attention was currently focused on a tablet propped beside his plate, his expression thoughtful as he reviewed whatever information demanded his morning attention.
Miya sat to his right, elegant even in the relative informality of a family breakfast. She wore a silk robe in deep blue, her hair pulled back in a simple style that emphasized her graceful features. A cup of tea sat before her, steam rising in delicate spirals, and she was reading something on her own device—though she looked up immediately as Rei entered.
"Good morning, Rei," she said warmly, her smile genuine and bright. "Did you sleep well?"
The question carried weight that she probably didn't intend—a simple parental inquiry that struck uncomfortably close to his earlier nightmare.
"Yes, Mother," Rei said, keeping his voice steady and appropriately cheerful for a five-year-old. "I slept very well."
The lie came easily, practiced through years of maintaining covers and hiding his true state from people who would have worried or asked questions he couldn't answer.
Hidetoshi looked up from his tablet, his expression softening as his attention settled on his son. "Come, sit. Breakfast is ready."
Rei moved to his designated place at the table—across from his mother, adjacent to his father—and settled onto the cushion with careful attention to posture. Even at five, the Tsugikane heir was expected to demonstrate proper etiquette.
Staff members appeared almost immediately, bringing dishes arranged with the kind of careful attention to presentation that spoke to both wealth and cultural appreciation for aesthetic dining. Traditional Japanese breakfast—grilled fish, rice, miso soup, pickled vegetables, rolled omelet—each component prepared perfectly and arranged to create visual harmony on the plate.
It was far removed from the simple meals Rei remembered from his childhood as Itachi—quick sustenance taken between training sessions, food valued more for its nutritional content than its presentation.
"Did you have any dreams last night?" Miya asked as she served Rei's plate, her hands moving with practiced grace. "You seemed to be sleeping very deeply when I checked on you earlier."
She checked on me? Rei kept his expression neutral while processing that information. I didn't hear her enter my room. Either I was more deeply asleep than I realized, or she's skilled enough at stealth to avoid waking a trained shinobi's instincts—though this body's instincts are still developing.
"I don't remember any dreams, Mother," Rei said, which was technically true. He remembered his nightmares, but those weren't dreams in the sense she meant—not the pleasant, forgettable imaginings of a child's mind but vivid reconstructions of actual events he'd lived through.
Hidetoshi set his tablet aside, giving his full attention to the meal and his family—a deliberate choice that Rei appreciated. Despite his obvious responsibilities and the demands on his time, Hidetoshi made breakfast a priority for family connection.
"We have an interesting day ahead," Hidetoshi said, his tone conversational but with an undercurrent of purpose. "I thought it would be good for you to visit the Association headquarters properly, Rei. Last week you saw the building where we held the gathering, but that was just one floor used for events. The actual operations—the training facilities, the administrative offices, the research departments—those are worth seeing."
He paused, then added with a slight smile, "And I think it's time you met some of the people who help maintain order in Minato Ward. Not just at formal gatherings, but in their working environment."
Rei nodded with appropriate enthusiasm masking his genuine interest. Seeing how the Tsugikane Awakened Association actually functioned would provide valuable intelligence about this world's power structures and how awakener society maintained itself.
"Will I be able to watch awakeners training?" Rei asked, pitching his voice with childlike curiosity.
Hidetoshi's smile widened slightly. "Yes, I think that can be arranged. Though you'll need to stay back and observe safely—training areas can be dangerous when abilities are being used at full capacity."
Good, Rei thought. Seeing how awakeners actually apply their abilities in practice will be invaluable. Theory and description only provide so much understanding. I need to see the mechanics in action, assess the speed and power levels, identify potential weaknesses and exploitable patterns.
"Eat your breakfast first, though," Miya interjected with gentle firmness. "You'll need your energy if you're going to be spending the morning touring headquarters."
Rei picked up his chopsticks and began eating with proper etiquette, his mind already racing ahead to the opportunities the day would provide.