(GIMME YOUR 🧠, or else.....)
Konoha, Year Twelve.A time barely recorded in the archives—an age whispered only as a legend, soaked in blood and ash.
"Hikita!"
Outside the nursery, a middle-aged man with a weary face and unshaven stubble bit down on his cigarette. His voice was low, tired."The Yūki couple… they've been killed."
The younger man addressed as Hikita trembled, his body stiffening as disbelief spread across his face. His voice shook."Both of them… dead?"
The man exhaled a long stream of smoke, giving a silent nod. At once, Hikita's eyes filled with tears. He choked out, voice raw:"I can't believe it… Yūki-san and his wife were such good people. How could even they… fall?"
The older man patted his shoulder, offering what little comfort he could."Hikita, don't blame yourself. You've done more than enough for them. Once the war ends, the higher-ups won't forget what you've done."
But Hikita flushed red, almost insulted by the remark."Please… don't say that. They entrusted their child to me because they believed in me. Even if they're gone, I'll raise that child with my own hands. That's my duty!"
After a few more words, the two slowly walked out of the nursery.
Neither of them noticed that on one of the cribs inside, a pair of sharp eyes had opened. The infant was staring fixedly at the name tag tied to his bed:
Yūki…
So I've really… crossed into the Naruto world?
The baby—now Shiranui Itsuki—narrowed his eyes and glanced at a calendar hanging not far away.Konoha, Year Twelve?
His chest tightened. As a long-time Naruto fan, he knew exactly what that meant.
The Three Great Ninja Wars.The Nine-Tails' attack on Konoha.The massacre of the Uchiha.Black Zetsu's centuries-long schemes.
But the real problem?Most of those disasters wouldn't happen until decades later. Right now, in Year Twelve, the only thing history recorded was blood. Endless, merciless blood.
"This is bad. Without strength, I won't even last long enough to see those future events…"
As Itsuki thought this, strange glowing letters suddenly appeared before his eyes:
[Please claim your Newbie Gift Pack!]
A faintly glowing wooden chest materialized in front of him. The panel read:
Name: Shiranui Itsuki
Items: None
Chakra: None
Jutsu: None
"…A system."
Itsuki let out a long sigh. He had expected something like this. After all, transmigration without cheats? Impossible.
The Ninja Training System.
But he didn't rush to open the chest. If this thing spat out something crazy like a Gundam, what good would it do him in this tiny baby body? That would be begging for disaster.
In the tall mirror across the room, a reflection stared back—an infant lying in a soft crib, tiny fists clenched, eyes sharp as blades.
So I've actually turned into a baby…
He rubbed his nonexistent chin, more amused than frustrated. Guess you could call this anti-aging treatment.
Still, this wasn't the time to dwell on it. His gaze lingered on the name by his crib: Yūki Itsuki.
"If I heard right… my parents in this world are already dead."
This nursery, then, wasn't some family home. It was more like a foster house for orphans of fallen Konoha shinobi. And that man earlier—Hikita—must be the one running it.
The door creaked open again. Hikita returned.
Itsuki quickly shut his eyes, feigning sleep. But through the slits of his lashes, he saw something that made his tiny body tense.
That face…
The same man who had just vowed to raise him wore a twisted, predatory smile.
"Heh… little brat. If I'd known your parents were going to die this soon, I wouldn't have wasted all that food keeping you alive."
Step by step, Hikita approached the crib. His long, spider-like fingers reached down and clamped around Itsuki's tiny neck. Lifting him like a sack of garbage, he carried him toward the back door.
"You sure sleep deep, don't you? Hahaha…"
With a cruel grin, Hikita flung the infant into the garbage bin behind the building, slamming the lid shut.
…
A minute passed. Two. Once he was sure the man was gone, Itsuki slowly pushed the iron lid open and crawled out, covered in filth. He let out a weary sigh.
"So this… is the real shinobi world."
He lifted his gaze toward the night sky above Konoha, eyes cold."The Will of Fire may burn brightly… but beneath its flames lie nothing but rotting branches and decayed roots."