Konoha — Ichiraku Ramen.
"Thanks for looking out for me today, Uncle Teuchi. See you."
At the shop entrance, Teuchi stood with his hands on his hips, smiling brightly. "Don't be so formal, Yun. We were slammed today—couldn't have managed without you. Keep it up tomorrow too!"
…
Tomorrow?
That was the whole reason Yun—who'd been working here after coming from the Uchiha district—had taken this job in the first place.
Because tomorrow was coming.
In all of Konoha, this was the safest place: Ichiraku Ramen.
Whether it was the Nine-Tails' rampage… or years later when the Six Paths of Pain reduced the village to ruins… this little ramen shop never seemed to change. Not a crack, not a scratch—its appearance stayed exactly the same.
And in Yun's memory, if his little sister Izumi hadn't gotten a hand from that lunatic at the last moment, she probably would've died too.
Which meant one thing: even the Uchiha district wouldn't be safe on the night of the Nine-Tails incident.
Not to mention his current body—barely over five years old—with a nervous reaction time that lagged close to a full second.
At that speed, stepping into chaos wasn't bravery.
It was suicide.
"Haah… don't disappoint me," Yun muttered. "Not today."
After letting out a long breath, Uchiha Yun headed back toward the Uchiha district at a quick pace.
The Uchiha clan head, Fugaku, had just welcomed his second son. That single event confirmed the timeline for Yun:
This year's October 10th.
The night of the Nine-Tails.
And tomorrow… was October 10th—the day the world's "original protagonist" would be born.
Which meant once the clock crossed midnight tonight… his "cheat" would finally arrive.
…
"I'm back."
Yun pushed open the door.
In the living room sat a young girl. The little tear mole at the corner of her eye made her look especially cute.
"You're home late again, big brother," Uchiha Izumi said, tilting her head. "Uncle Teuchi must've had amazing business today."
Yun walked over and ruffled her hair. "There were way more customers than usual. Did you go practice again today?"
Izumi nodded, then pouted. "I still don't get why you keep working at Ichiraku. You haven't trained taijutsu with me in ages."
Yun just smiled and didn't answer.
From the kitchen, their mother—Uchiha Hazuki—walked out carrying tea.
"Yun, you really don't have to push yourself so hard," she said gently. "We still have some savings. Enough to last until you two become genin and can start taking missions."
Yun nodded slightly. "I've saved a lot these past six months. I already told Uncle Teuchi—after tomorrow, I won't be going anymore."
At that, his mother finally exhaled, the tension leaving her shoulders. Making a five-year-old work to earn money… it always felt like failing her late husband.
Yun took a sip of tea, then stood. "I'm exhausted. I'm going to wash up and sleep."
As he passed, he rubbed Izumi's head again. "The day after tomorrow, I can train with you again. No slacking off then, got it?"
Izumi puffed her cheeks. "I train seriously every day! You're only a tiny bit older than me. Don't let me surpass you!"
Yun laughed, waved, and headed to the bathroom.
As twins, he really was only a tiny bit older.
…
Night fell.
The moment the second hand on the alarm clock slipped past midnight, Yun shot upright in bed.
Reincarnated into the Uchiha—born in the same era as Itachi…
No one could imagine what these last five years had been like for him.
Before his "cheat" arrived, he'd wake up in cold sweats every night. More than once, he'd seriously considered slipping away alone and disappearing.
But over five years, something changed.
Family.
His mother's quiet kindness, hidden in every little sentence.
Izumi's small, sticky-sweet "big brother" when she was younger…
Those things became his tether—something he'd never had in his previous life.
And that madman…
The one who, eight years from now, would massacre the entire clan—young and old alike.
Back in his old world, Yun had liked that character as a piece of fiction.
But living here?
Standing inside the story?
A different question clawed at his throat.
Why?
His family of three had returned to the Uchiha district only because his father died. They weren't political. They weren't "hawks" or "doves." They weren't even important enough to attend clan meetings.
His mother worked herself to the bone every day just to feed two kids.
So why should a widowed mother and her children die—just because Itachi believed in some twisted "village versus clan" ideal?
Why?
Yun's fingers curled into a fist so hard his knuckles whitened.
He liked Konoha's current peace.
But not if that peace required his family's lives as the price.
If this world didn't have him—and didn't have anyone he cared about—then what did it matter whether the world survived at all?
Yun stared into the darkness.
Whatever he did tonight would ripple outward, shaping everything.
If he could change fate—good.
If he couldn't…
Then it wouldn't take eight years.
Within eight years, he'd kill Itachi first—before Shisui's death could push him into awakening the Mangekyō Sharingan.
…
[Naruto World storyline initialized]
[Information Exchange activated]
[Rule Replication function activated]
Yun's gaze sharpened. Inside his mind, he issued a command:
Open the Exchange. Use the beginner reward—select an S-rank shinobi as the transaction target.
Fourth Hokage: Namikaze Minato.
[Target locked: S-rank shinobi — Fourth Hokage Namikaze Minato]
[Exchange space-time flow adjusted]
[Enable Shadow Mode?]
Without hesitation, Yun answered: Enable.
For a moment, everything blurred—then snapped back into focus.
The wooden bed beneath him became an armchair. In front of him stretched a long table.
And seated across from him—
was the Fourth Hokage of Konoha:
Namikaze Minato.
"…Hm?"
It took only an instant for Yun to notice it.
Minato frowned, confusion flashing in his eyes.
Yun glanced down at himself.
Shadow Mode.
Simple, blunt, and effective—he looked like one of those pitch-black silhouettes from Detective Conan: a faceless "culprit" cutout.
If he could melt into liquid, he'd look even closer to Black Zetsu.
"Don't waste your effort," Yun said, his voice warped into a cold electronic distortion. "Your Flying Thunder God won't work here—not even a fraction. Genjutsu, ninjutsu… even chakra itself has no effect in this space."
The moment Yun finished speaking, Minato's body jerked as if he tried to move—
only to be slammed back down by an invisible force.
He couldn't budge.
Yun waved a hand casually. "How do I explain this…? In here, it doesn't matter if you're the Hokage or the Sage of Six Paths. You cannot attack me. Not in any form. Not even in 'rules' terms."
Minato felt the pressure pinning him down. After a brief pause, he stopped struggling.
Someone had dragged him from his home's living room into this place in an instant—then neutralized Flying Thunder God completely.
With every ninjutsu path shut down, he only had one option:
Observe. Gather information. Wait.
"…Who are you?" Minato asked. "What do you want?"
Yun shook his head. "I won't tell you who I am. As for what I want… think. The rules of this space should already be in your head."
Minato's brows drew together. The information that had appeared out of nowhere in his mind took him a while to digest.
"So you didn't create this place," he said slowly. "This is an Exchange… a marketplace. Neither side can attack the other, and…"
His gaze hardened.
"…we can't lie."
Yun nodded. "Correct. If you don't want to answer something, you can refuse. You can say 'I won't say.' But you cannot lie."
Minato continued, testing the logic. "If someone lies, the space warns it, and the transaction contract fails. And things like talent, bloodline, and ninjutsu… can be used as bargaining chips for information trades."
Yun rested his cheek against his hand. "After the trade, your 'chip' doesn't disappear. The space replicates it to me. And as the buyer, it's not as simple as 'you give X, I get X.'"
He paused.
"The magnitude of fate you change is proportional to what you're willing to trade."
"For example… if a person who was meant to die survives—if that survival changes even more lives—then the biggest chip I can extract from you is…"
Yun's faceless shadow leaned forward.
"…your aptitude for space-time ninjutsu."
Minato fell silent for a long moment.
Then he said evenly, "I don't have anything I want to trade for. And I have no interest in replicating my space-time aptitude to an unknown party."
He shifted as if to rise—
and Yun cut in immediately.
"Kushina's death is scheduled for today."
He let the words settle.
"It's already past midnight. Consider that information… a free gift."
Minato's gaze snapped to the patterns carved into the tabletop.
A single character appeared, glowing faintly:
[True]
Minato's hands clenched into fists.
This space was unnatural. The pressure of its rules was absolute.
He didn't dare gamble that it was lying.
Across the table, Yun spoke again—calm, matter-of-fact.
"You only need to agree to the chip. You don't need to hand anything over. You don't need to teach me personally. If everything I'm saying is false, then you lose nothing—your aptitude won't be replicated."
"But if everything I'm saying is true…"
Yun's voice lowered.
"…is an aptitude you don't even lose really worth more than Kushina's life?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"Or… Naruto's?"