Land of Fire.
Hidden Leaf Village.
A small apartment.
"Whsshhh—"
"Ugh… my head hurts."
Golden hair, a sleepy scowl. Naruto Uzumaki pressed his palm against his temple as he slowly sat up. Why did his head hurt so badly all of a sudden? Did he bash it against the wall in his sleep?
He blinked—and froze. The room around him wasn't the one he remembered falling asleep in.
Then, like a floodgate bursting open, memories rushed into his mind.
"I… I crossed over!"
"And I reincarnated as Uzumaki Naruto—the protagonist of Naruto!?"
For a moment, he sat there stunned. Then he exhaled. Since he had arrived, he might as well accept it.
You have been blessed by the Will of Chaos.
You have obtained extraordinary comprehension.
The words echoed in his mind, and instantly, the fog cleared. His thoughts sharpened. Every distraction, every whisper of noise from the world outside—gone. His mind became serene, crystalline.
This was it—his enlightenment. And he knew it was only the beginning.
The pain returned briefly. He touched his forehead and felt a bandage wrapped around it. Walking to the bathroom, he stood on a small stool and stared into the mirror.
A white gauze. A wound beneath it. He brushed it lightly—and a sharp sting raced down his forehead.
"Shhhh—" He hissed through clenched teeth.
Memories struck him again—memories of the original Naruto's childhood. And his hands curled into fists.
Just as in the story: the boy was branded a monster."The Nine-Tails Demon Fox."A sinner.
Villagers glared at him with hatred. Shops refused to sell him anything. Those who did sold him spoiled goods. Children were dragged away when he tried to play with them.
No friends. No family. Only the Third Hokage—the man who pretended to be his guardian angel.
Sarutobi Hiruzen, the "God of Shinobi." Each month, he delivered Naruto's allowance and a few kind words—a calculated gesture to ensure the boy's trust.
If not for his modern knowledge, Naruto might've believed the old man's act too.
Because the truth was cruel. Naruto wasn't a demon. He was the son of the Fourth Hokage—the hero who sealed the Nine-Tails at the cost of his life. The legacy of Minato and Kushina.
Yet the hero's son was cast as the village's scapegoat.
Why did the villagers know the secret? Why did the Hokage do nothing to stop it? He knew the truth—he had been entrusted with the child himself.
The answer was simple. Danzo Shimura spread the rumor to isolate Naruto, and Hiruzen allowed it. Because he, too, wanted control.
He would let the boy see only darkness—then offer him light. A perfect leash disguised as kindness.
That was the real Sarutobi Hiruzen: a politician darker than Danzo himself.
Years of power had rotted his soul. Konoha, once radiant with geniuses—White Fang, the Sannin, the Fourth Hokage—was now an empty shell, gilded in name only.
The Senju were gone. The Uchiha massacred. The village rotted behind its smiles.
Naruto looked at his reflection, eyes calm, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He wasn't going to walk the same path again. This was his story now.
"Konoha…" he whispered.
"It's time to change the weather."