Aoi followed his mother through the bustling streets, his small hand held tightly in hers. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst.
Children sprinted ahead, their laughter echoing off the wooden buildings. Some showed off wooden kunai or forehead protectors, but Aoi barely noticed.
As the Academy gates loomed closer, a sharp vibration jolted through his pocket.
Aoi froze, his mother's gentle tug ignored.
"Aoi? What's wrong?" she asked, her voice calm. He shook his head quickly, trying to mask the terror rising in his chest.
The vibration grew hotter, almost burning against his thigh. His fingers trembled as he slipped his hand into the pocket.
The phone's screen glowed with an unnatural, blinding light. Then, in a flash, it dissolved completely.
"Ah—!" Aoi cried out as the light shot up his arm. It sank into the back of his left hand with a searing, electric sting.
His vision blurred, and for a moment, the world tilted. When he looked again, the phone was gone, vanished without a trace.
Panic clawed at his chest. His palm revealed a faint, glowing rectangle pulsing just beneath the skin.
A soft chime echoed inside his mind. A holographic screen flickered into existence, visible only to him:
Battery: 1%
Aoi's blood ran cold. One percent?! He had charged it fully last night.
He clenched his fist, desperate to make it stop. The strange display vanished, but the dread remained.
Around him, children laughed and shouted, oblivious to the danger he felt. His mother's gentle smile did nothing to calm his racing thoughts.
"Don't be nervous, Aoi. You'll be just fine." He nodded, hiding his trembling hand behind his back.
The phone his only connection to his old life was now inside him. And its power was almost gone.
Would it disappear completely if the battery hit zero? Lost in thought, he walked into his classroom.
the classroom was buzzing with noise, a cacophony of excited chatter. Children of all kinds sat on wooden benches, some already boasting about becoming the next Hokage.
Aoi slid into a seat at the back, his small hands pressed against his knees to hide the faint, strange tingling in his left hand. The merged phone still scared him.
The holographic screen hadn't appeared since earlier, but he could feel it a faint, persistent heartbeat inside his palm.
The door slammed open.
"Alright, everyone! Quiet down!"
The room fell silent. Standing at the front was a tall man with a scar across his nose and a shinobi headband tied around his forehead.
His voice carried the weight of authority. "I'm Iruka Umino. From today on, I'll be your instructor. The Academy is the first step to becoming a shinobi of the Leaf.
Work hard, or you'll fall behind."
Iruka's eyes scanned the room. "Let's start with introductions. Stand up, state your name, and what you hope to become."
One by one, the children rose.
"I'm Kenji! My father's a jōnin, so I'll be one too!"
"I'm Aiko! I want to be a famous kunoichi like Lady Tsunade!"
"I'm Riku! I'll be Hokage one day, you'll see!"
Laughter and chatter filled the room after each declaration.
Then Iruka's gaze settled on the boy at the back.
Aoi's heart pounded. He rose slowly, his small legs feeling shaky. Dozens of eyes turned toward him, a spotlight of curiosity and judgment.
His mouth felt dry as a desert. "I… I'm Aoi," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper in the large room.
Iruka nodded. "And what do you want to become?"
Aoi hesitated. What could he possibly say? He couldn't tell them he was a twenty-one-year-old stranger trapped in a child's body.
He couldn't mention the strange device merged with his hand. And he wasn't brave enough to shout about Hokage dreams he didn't even have.
"…I don't know yet," he admitted.
Iruka smiled and then simply nodded. "Not knowing is fine. Don't worry you'll find out in the future what you want to become."
Relieved, Aoi sank back into his seat, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and relief.
That evening, Aoi trudged home, his small feet scuffing against the cobblestone streets. The last sounds of children's laughter had died away, and the Hidden Leaf was settling into a quiet dusk.
His mother's warm smile greeted him at the door, but her soft questions drifted past him like smoke. He went straight to his room, sinking onto the futon.
He stared at his left hand, and for the first time, it felt completely, terrifyingly normal. There was no subtle hum, no warmth, no ghost of a glow.
The device that had been his lifeline to the old world was silent. It was gone. The truth hit him like a physical blow.
In his previous life, his phone had been his escape to a portal to games, messages, and endless videos whenever the world felt too big. Here, there were no shortcuts, no digital safety net.
Just him, alone, in a world far more demanding than anything he'd ever known. He flexed his fingers, a silent prayer for even the faintest flicker of the screen.
But the answer was only stillness. "I… I'll have to do this on my own," he whispered, the admission a heavy stone in his throat.
A hollow ache settled in his stomach, not from hunger, but from the crushing weight of his helplessness
Aoi… had only himself, the unconditional love of a mother, and the quiet ghost of a phone buried beneath his skin. He mentally reviewed the day's Academy lessons.
He had survived the first day. Hiro lay back on the futon and closed his eyes. I can't rely on my phone now, he thought, the idea slowly taking hold.
Not yet. I have to learn, train, and grow just like everyone else. And when the time comes… when I learn my first lightning jutsu… maybe then… maybe my hand will wake again.
The battery inside him might have been at a single, final percent before dying completely, but Aoi felt a new spark of determination ignite, a warmth more potent than any charge.
Tomorrow, the Academy would begin again. And this time, Aoi small, weak, and without his phone was ready to face it.