Chapter 1 – The End and the Beginning
Death was sudden.
No pain. No warning. Just an instant of awareness before the absolute void.
There was no slow decline, no final moment of realization, not even a last thought, a flash, no glimmer of regret. No farewell. One moment, he simply existed. The next, he didn't.
For a time — maybe seconds, maybe an eternity — he felt nothing. No body. No thoughts. Just a silent abyss.
Then, something changed.
First, a sound. Muffled and distant, as if echoing through an ocean. Unintelligible words, distorted echoes, disjointed murmurs. Senseless whispers.
Then, sensation.
A pressure. A force compressing him from all sides, as if being pushed out of one world and dragged into another.
And then… the cold.
A violent, biting cold that tore through his newly formed body. A brutal contrast to the warmth that had enveloped him moments before.
And finally, the light.
Blinding. Overwhelming. Merciless. It burned his eyes before they could even fully open. His tiny limbs trembled, too fragile to resist the cruel embrace of the world. He gasped, air flooding his lungs for what felt like the first time in centuries — and he cried. Not from sadness, but because it was all his new body could do in the face of the brutality of birth.
His eyes blinked, trying to make sense of the world.
Everything was a blur — distorted shapes, shadows moving through mist. His body ached, nerves screaming, but his mind… his mind was something else entirely.
It was awake. Aware. Far too full to belong in the mind of a newborn.
Gradually, the figures before him came into focus.
A man and a woman.
Their faces hovered above him, their expressions too composed for such a moment. There was something in their eyes that unsettled him: not just the happiness of parents seeing their newborn — but something deeper. A mix of relief, pride… and guilt.
The man was imposing, his posture rigid, exuding a quiet authority. His mere presence commanded respect — a silent strength that bore a weight beyond words.
The woman appeared softer, but there was something unspoken in her gaze. A serene beauty, touched by a shadow of sorrow. There was warmth in her features, but also something deeper, restrained.
They were his parents.
Or at least, those who had brought him into this world.
And still, their eyes disturbed him.
They didn't look at him with the pure wonder of parents admiring their child. There was something more behind that gaze.
Joy. Pride. But also… a trace of guilt.
The moment stretched on, the air between them thick with silent meaning.
Then, he heard a gentle, emotional voice:
— "It's him, my love… our little Ikki."
The name echoed in his soul like a warm spark on a cold night.
— "Ikki Hyuuga, destined for greatness," said the man, his voice low, firm, heavy with conviction.
He would have laughed — if he could — at the irony of fate.
Ikki. That name wasn't just any name to him. It was the name he had given to his first Pokémon — a Charmander — in an old FireRed game, played on his battered Game Boy.
A gift from one of the matrons at the orphanage where he grew up. A rare gesture of affection in a world of absences.
That Game Boy was old, used, with worn-out buttons and a scratched screen.
But to him, it had been a portal.
And that Charmander — the little fire warrior — his first real friend.
Ikki.
It was a name that carried fire.
Struggle.
Rebirth.
And now… it was his.
The adults kept talking in the background, but one word made him freeze — or rather, he would've frozen if he had control over his tiny lungs:
"Hyuuga."
It was said casually, like part of any ordinary sentence. But to him, it was a thunderclap.
Ikki Hyuuga.
If there had been any lingering doubt, it vanished then and there.
He was in the Narutoverse.
And not just anywhere… but in the Hyuuga clan.
For a moment, his newborn heart nearly stopped.
Naruto. Ninjas. Wars. Bijūs. Akatsuki. Orochimaru. Madara.
He had been reincarnated into a world where even children faced death. A world where a single misstep could be fatal.
"No… this can't be happening."
The rational mind from his past life tried to find another explanation, but everything fit too well.
The white eyes. The traditional clothes. The name. The austere atmosphere.
And above all, the fact that neither of his parents bore the cursed seal on their foreheads.
"They're from the main family…"
He swallowed dryly, instinctively.
"And so am I, aren't I?"
"So… I'm from the Hyuuga elite."
But the initial relief quickly faded.
He remembered well how the Hyuuga clan was portrayed: strict, cold, bound by cruel traditions.
And if he was seen only as a valuable asset?
A tool for preserving the family's honor?
"In the end, I'm still a piece. I've just moved from pawn to bishop."
It was only then that he realized the game was much bigger.
It wasn't just about the Hyuuga clan.
It was the entire ninja system.
A system where children were trained as weapons.
Where talent decided the value of a life.
Where even love was political.
And now, he was at the heart of this machine.
Meanwhile, his body endured the usual procedures of birth.
He felt the cord being cut, the gentle slap on his rear — which earned a second, indignant cry — and then warm hands wrapping him in cloth and wiping him down.
Soon after, came words he didn't yet understand, but one gesture stood out: a hand resting on his chest.
Different. Deliberate. Controlled.
— "Let's check his chakra nature," said a male voice, clear enough for him to comprehend this time.
Chakra.
The final confirmation.
He wasn't just in a fantasy world.
He was in a world where life energy was wielded as blade and shield.
And he was part of it now.
Fear swallowed him for a moment.
Ninjas killed. Ninjas died.
Genin sent on fatal missions. Experiments. Human weapons.
He remembered every name, every massacre, every cruel scene.
But then, the fear faded.
Replaced by something else.
Excitement.
He was in a world where he could train.
Fight.
Leap through treetops.
Control elements.
Face gods.
A world where power meant freedom.
If he had to live — and die — there, then let it be with purpose.
Ikki Hyuuga wouldn't be just another name carved into the cold stone of history.
He would make that name echo for generations.
A/N
Hey everyone, I'm finally back!
I'll admit, I'm writing this with just 20 minutes left until midnight — almost Tuesday — and about to break the promise I made to you all 😅
Honestly, I'm only writing now because I had a cool idea for a Pokémon story and figured I should at least keep that promise and write at least 10 chapters of this story before moving on to another one I'd probably abandon before Chapter 7 anyway.
I didn't know if I should write or not, but I'm really glad I decided to go for it and post it here.
Just wanted to say I'm totally open to ideas and constructive criticism. Feel free to share your opinions and tell me what you'd like to see in the story!