I don't remember falling asleep. I remember scrolling. A thumb moving. Light hitting my face in the dark. Another video. Another short. Another nothing.
Then silence.
When I open my eyes, the ceiling is wooden. Not painted. Not plastered. Wooden. I blink. "What the fuck" The air smells different. Not dust and electronics something cleaner. Older. Tatami.
My body feels wrong. It's small. Light. My fingers are shorter. I sit up too fast and the world tilts. The room is unfamiliar but simple. A low bed. Sliding paper door. Morning light bleeding through it.
My heart starts pounding. This isn't my room. I look at my hands again. Small. Child-sized. Five? Six? No. This is a dream. It has to be. I stand. Almost fall. Legs unsteady but not weak just unused. I run to the mirror. It's low. Polished metal. A child stares back at me. Black hair. Dark eyes. Soft features. Not mine.
My breath quickens. No hospital smell. No machines. No pain. Just Alive. A thought creeps in. No. No way. My chest tightens. Tears flow down my face. I rush to the sliding door and open it. Hallway. Wood floors. Minimalist interior. Traditional. My mind races. Tatami. Shoji doors. Wood beams. My pulse explodes.
I whisper it.
"…Naruto?"
Silence answers.
Then A flicker. Not in the room. In my vision. Like a transparent layer sliding into place. Text. Faint. Glitching.
INITIALISING…
My breathing stops.
No. No. No.
I laugh.
A broken, disbelieving laugh.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
The text stabilises.
HOST DETECTED
INTEGRITY: 100%
CORE FUNCTIONS: LOCKED
BASIC STATUS: AVAILABLE
I stumble backward and sit on the floor.
This is it.
This is it.
"My time has come"
I press my fingers into my arm. It hurts. Real. I close my eyes and try to wake up. Nothing changes. I'm not in my old room.
There's no phone. No scrolling. No dull ache of wasted time. No weight pressing on my chest.
Just
Breathing.
I stand again. My body feels lighter than memory. Faster. I inhale. And something moves inside me. Warm. Flowing. Not air. Not blood. Something else. Chakra. The word comes naturally. I hold my hands in front of me.
Ram.
Snake.
Tiger.
The signs feel clumsy. My fingers don't know them yet. But the memory of knowing exists somewhere deeper. I stop. I'm shaking. Not from fear. From something else. Excitement. Pure, violent excitement. I start laughing again quietly this time.
"Meaning," I whisper.
This world has rules. Clear ones. Strength matters. Effort matters. Pain has purpose. If I train, I grow. If I fight, I survive. If I improve, it shows. No algorithms. No invisible social ladders. No empty days. I look at the faint interface again.
STATUS
I focus.
A panel unfolds in my vision. Simple. Clean.
VIT: 4
CHK: 6
CTL: 3
COG: 7
ADP: 12
A brief pause.
Then text scrolls beneath it.
VIT — Physical durability and recovery baseline.
CHK — Total energy capacity.
CTL — Energy precision efficiency.
COG — Processing speed and perception.
ADP — Growth potential coefficient.
My eyes lock onto one of them.
ADP: 12.
Higher than the rest. Growth potential coefficient. I don't fully understand it. But I don't need to. I can feel it.
OPTIONAL PROTOCOL AVAILABLE
Cognitive Dampening Mode: INACTIVE
I hesitate. I focus on it.
Description appears:
Reduces emotional noise.
Stabilises expression.
Enhances decision clarity.
Limited duration.
I almost activate it.
Then I stop. No. Not yet. I want to feel this. I press my hands to the floor and stand again. I walk slowly to the window.
Outside
Training posts.
A yard.
Weapons rack.
This isn't a civilian home. This is a shinobi house. Footsteps echo faintly somewhere deeper in the hall. Voices. Older boys. Confident. I freeze. Reality sharpens. This isn't a playground. This isn't a fan scenario. This world kills children. And I'm five. The interface flickers faintly again.
HOST VITAL SIGNS ELEVATED
I breathe slowly.
In.
Out.
The excitement doesn't vanish. But it narrows. Focus replaces chaos. I smile. Softly. Let's begin.