Strictly speaking, this wasn't an "isekai" in the usual sense. Kazane Arata's parents were alive and kicking. He wasn't some tragic orphan, nor did he grow up in an orphanage.
His life before this was painfully normal: ordinary family, peaceful childhood, breezy college graduation. He hadn't even landed a job yet when—bam. Next thing he knew, he woke up here.
No warning. No tutorial voice. No "Ding! Welcome, host!" Nothing. Just here. And worse? He was stuck inside a convenience store he couldn't leave.
What about his parents? Honestly, Arata suspected they'd be thrilled. With him gone, they could finally enjoy their romantic two-person world. Maybe they were even behind this mess. After all, when he was little, they used to joke that once he graduated, they'd ship him off to "train in another world."
At the time, thirteen-year-old Arata rolled his eyes. "What am I, three? You guys read too many light novels."
And then… here he was.
Naruto, seeing Arata's silence, panicked. "S-sorry! Did I remind you of your parents? I didn't mean to!"
Naruto knew that kind of pain. He'd grown up envying families with parents, secretly wishing he could come home to laughter and warmth. But wishing was pointless. His house was empty. Always had been.
He fell silent, the mood suddenly heavy.
Arata slurped the last of his soup, lit a cigarette, and squinted at Naruto, who clearly thought he'd said something hurtful. He didn't bother explaining. Even if he did, the kid wouldn't get it.
Instead, his thoughts wandered. Why do transmigrators in novels always end up as the "chosen ones"? Some have unique bloodlines, sure—but even the weak nobodies rise up eventually. Why?
Because they keep their mouths shut.
Announce "I'm a transmigrator" in Chapter 1? Yeah, enjoy dying in Chapter 2. Villains aren't idiots. They'd cut you down before you became a threat.
And this world—Naruto's world—wasn't some cozy safe zone. Even Konoha sent kids to war. Ordinary people dropped like flies.
Right now, Arata was just a glorified shopkeeper with zero combat power. If he got into a brawl with random civilians, he'd probably lose. If anyone found out his secret? He half-expected to wake up tied to a lab table with a certain snake-tongued man hovering over him.
But seeing Naruto's downcast face, he decided to throw him a bone.
"There's nothing to apologize for. Birth, old age, sickness, death—that's the fate no one escapes." Arata exhaled smoke, then added, "Some people die, but live forever in people's hearts. Some live, but go unrecognized—might as well be dead."
...Wait. That sounded exactly like Naruto's situation. Oops.
Naruto's head snapped up, eyes wet. "Then… was it a mistake for me to be alive?"
"What nonsense." Arata's voice was suddenly sharp. "You live for yourself, not for others. Recognition is nice, but dying for it? That's just stupid."
He flicked ash and abruptly changed the subject. "By the way… you like someone, don't you?"
Naruto's face instantly turned scarlet. "Wh-what the hell kind of question is that?!"
"Yeah, thought so." Arata smirked. "Now, imagine: if something happened to you, would she still wait?"
Then, with a wicked grin, he twisted the knife.
"What if she liked someone else? Say, your rival? You die, and she happily runs into his arms. A year later, their kid's born. A few years later, she might not even remember your name—"
"Enough!" Naruto slammed the table, pale and furious. "I'll never let Sakura end up with Sasuke!"
Arata chuckled. Cruel? Maybe. But the kid needed a push. "Then don't sulk. No girl's gonna like the pathetic face you had just now. Want to win her heart?"
The words hit Naruto like a genjutsu. He clenched his fists. "Yes!"
"Then come with me tonight." Arata stood, heading toward his store. A strange tugging sensation pulled at him—the same force that had yanked him back last time. It was like… a period, arriving out of nowhere.
He masked his unease, calling Naruto along. Once inside, the pull vanished. The convenience store's register flickered to life, glowing on its own.
Arata froze. Before, no matter how many buttons he mashed, it never responded. Why now?
Curiosity overpowered caution. He stepped closer. Words flashed across the screen.
A system? Kind of. But sloppy—like a half-finished practice run. The store was immovable except under certain conditions, couldn't open branches, and its creator had basically tossed it aside like junk.
Still, it had perks. While inside, Arata was untouchable. Absolute defense. Invincible walls. Safe zone.
But there was a catch.
To leave the store, he had to recruit a clerk. One meter away at best, one hour's grace period max. Fail to sign someone? Back you go. That "suction" earlier had been the store's way of yanking him home.
And standing right there was the perfect candidate.
Arata's lips curled. "Naruto, want to be with your goddess forever? Want a family with her? Then sign this contract."
Before he could even finish his dramatic spiel, Naruto snatched the paper.
"Where do I sign?"
Arata blinked. Damn, kids these days move fast. At Naruto's age, he didn't even know how to hold a girl's hand.
Naruto scribbled his name with eager strokes. "Done! Now what, Uncle?"