Three months.
Three agonizing months of being trapped in this tiny, useless body.
Through blurry baby vision, I pieced together my situation. One of my parents had to be an Uchiha my last name was Uchiha, after all. But as for the other side of the family? No clue. Maybe there's someone from the Uzumaki clan? It made sense. They were loud, fiery, and from the constant war talk I overheard, it seemed like the Second or maybe the Third Shinobi War was still going on.
Why this era? I groaned mentally while gumming at a wooden teething ring. Why not Naruto's peaceful Hokage days? Or better yet, Hashirama's reign live safe under the God of Shinobi's protection, die old with a belly full of barbecue...
My baby brain exhausted itself with these thoughts. Sleep came mercifully quick, the bliss of unconsciousness blanketing me. At least in my dreams, I didn't have to worry about this mess.
Seven months now.
Progress, I guess. I could stand while clutching furniture, though walking still eluded me. My earlier assumption about my parentage had been partially correct. Turns out, Mother was an Inuzuka. Though her earth and water jutsu weren't anything spectacular, the unmistakable scent of a kennel never lied. As for Father? Definitely Uchiha, which meant Sharingan potential. At least I wouldn't be some no-name NPC stumbling through this chaotic world.
But there was still one problem.
Where. The. Hell. Was. My. Damn. System?
Every isekai protagonist gets their cheat skills at birth. So why had I been left out? And why was I stuck in a baby's body, to boot? Do you know how humiliating it is for a 36-year-old man's soul to be breastfed by a woman who might be younger than me? Or how degrading it is to endure diaper changes with scratchy, ancient fabric substitutes while suffering the twin hells of teething pain and itchiness?
The indignity was—
Ding.
[System Notification]
User has awakened the System. Congratulations.
Reward will be granted upon surviving one year in this world.
If I could've screamed, I would've. Instead, I settled for the most dignified protest available to me: I spat up all over my onesie.
A month later, I'd learned how to roll over and sit up without falling every five seconds. It wasn't much, but it was something. Progress at last.
The real problem, though, was that nothing else was happening. The System was still silent, and the world outside was far too loud. I had no cool powers, no "chosen one" revelations, no flashy stats screen popping up every time I thought a happy thought. Just... nothing.
But that didn't mean the world around me was silent.
I overheard snippets of conversation from the adults around me.
"Uchiha clan's been getting more aggressive..."
"Don't trust the Hokage's peace talks."
"Do you think the Konoha Village has a chance against Iwa?"
Every word sent a jolt of anxiety through me. The war is real, I thought. And here I was, stuck in a baby body, powerless, unable to do anything but listen. All that I had in this world was time. Time to grow. Time to learn. Time to… wait.
There was no easy way out. No shortcut to power, no magical transformation. This body would have to grow up, train, and learn just like anyone else.
But my mind? It was a 36-year-old man's, already seasoned by life's harsh lessons. I knew this: patience.
So, I waited. I kept my ears open, gathering fragments of information whenever I could. I had to learn the history I'd been dropped into, even if the pieces were scattered. And more than anything, I tried forcing the System to wake up. Come on. Anything.
But nothing happened. Silence, still and unbroken.