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# 🌿 NAWAKI
### *Grandson of the God of Shinobi*
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## Chapter 1 — Gramps
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The Senju clan graveyard was quiet at this hour.
Most people found graveyards unsettling. The silence, the stone, the weight of names carved into cold rock. But for a five year old boy with messy brown hair and dirt on his knees, this particular graveyard felt less like a place of mourning and more like a living room.
He sat cross legged in front of the largest headstone, chin resting in his palm, talking with the easy comfort of someone continuing a conversation that had never really stopped.
"You know gramps," Nawaki said, squinting up at the name carved above him — *Hashirama Senju, First Hokage* — "I've decided. I'm going to become the greatest Hokage there ever was."
The stone said nothing.
"Greater than you even." He paused, reconsidering. "Well. Maybe not greater. But equal. Definitely equal."
A bird somewhere in the trees answered instead.
Nawaki took that as agreement and continued, launching into a full and detailed summary of his week — the training Tsunade had dragged him through, the incident with the kunai and the very unfortunate vegetable garden, the mission report Hiruzen-jiji had apparently praised as 'showing promise' which Nawaki felt was underselling it considerably.
"Oh and gramps — academy starts tomorrow." He grinned, wide and genuine. "Finally. Tsunade-nee has been insufferable about it. You'd think she was the one enrolling."
He kept talking.
The graveyard kept listening.
Then, mid sentence, Nawaki's eyes went blank.
And he collapsed.
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He was back in five minutes.
One moment the grass against his cheek was cold and damp. The next he was blinking up at the pale sky above the graveyard, the carved names of dead Senju watching him from their stones.
He lay there for a long moment.
*'...Huh.'*
It came slowly at first — images, sounds, feelings that didn't belong to a five year old boy from Konoha. A different world. A different life. A bedroom ceiling he had stared at for years. The smell of something that wasn't ramen. A screen — flat, glowing, endlessly full of a story about ninja that he had consumed with embarrassing dedication.
Then all at once it wasn't slow anymore.
Every memory landed like a flood gate opening. Years of a life he had lived somewhere else, in someone else's body, crashed through him in the space of a single breath. He remembered everything. His name before this name. His face before this face. The exact episode where he had first cried over a fictional old man with a leaf hat.
Nawaki stared at the sky for a very long time.
*'...Whoever sent me here,'* he thought slowly, *'has genuinely good taste in timing. Giving me these memories as a newborn would have been horrific. Five years old is acceptable. Respectable even. I will allow it.'*
He sat up.
The graveyard was still quiet. Hashirama's headstone still said nothing. Somewhere the bird was still making its opinion known.
Nawaki looked at his small hands. Five year old hands. Soft. Barely any calluses yet despite Tsunade's best efforts.
*Hashirama's grandson's hands.*
He felt something settle in his chest — not the giddy panic he might have expected, but something quieter. Warmer. Like a key sliding into a lock that had always been there.
*'I already wanted to be Hokage,'* he thought. *'I already loved this village. I already loved nee-chan.'*
*'Now I just... know things. Useful things.'*
He looked up at his grandfather's headstone.
The greatest shinobi who had ever lived. A man whose chakra had exceeded a Tailed Beast. A man who had built this village from nothing but will and a dream too stubborn to die.
Nawaki's grandfather.
*'No pressure,'* he thought.
Then, despite himself, he started laughing. Quietly at first, then less quietly, until he was sitting cross legged in front of Hashirama's grave at dusk giggling to himself like a person of questionable sanity.
*'Okay okay. Focus.'*
*'I have the greatest advantage anyone in this world has ever had. Complete foreknowledge. A Senju body. Hashirama's blood running through my veins. And I already have the motivation — I was already going to chase this dream before I remembered any of this.'*
*'I am going to become the greatest Hokage this village has ever seen.'*
A pause.
*'...That came out sounding pretty villainous actually. I should work on that. I don't have a PR manager in this world.'*
He pressed his knuckles to his mouth, composing himself.
Right. Enough internal monologue. There was one more thing to check.
He had noticed it the moment his memories unlocked — something sitting at the edge of his awareness that didn't belong to any normal five year old. A presence. Patient. Waiting.
*'Okay,'* he thought, turning his attention toward it deliberately. *'Let's meet you then. My golden daddy, sugar mommy of a system.'*
The world went quiet.
And then, at the edges of his vision, something opened.
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```
SENJU NAWAKI
Age : 5
Chakra : 892 / 9,400
Skill Points: 5
SKILLS
Taijutsu
└ Basic Strikes [Lv 1/10]
└ Leaf Whirlwind [Lv 1/10]
Ninjutsu
└ Transformation [Lv 1/10]
Chakra Control
└ Leaf concentrate [Lv 1/10]
```
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Nawaki stared at it for a long moment.
Then he looked at the chakra reading. 9,400 maximum. At five years old. Before any real training.
*'Gramps,'* he thought, glancing back at Hashirama's headstone, *'I think I inherited something from you.'*
He closed the panel.
Stood up. Brushed the grass off his knees. Looked at the fading sky above Konoha.
Academy started tomorrow.
*'Let's get to work.'*
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**— End of Chapter 1 —**
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