The blinding light faded, replaced by the blurry shapes of unfamiliar faces looming above. A cacophony of sounds – panicked shouts, the low thrum of an immense power, and the heart-wrenching cries of a woman – assaulted his newborn senses.
'What the hell...? One moment I was drifting off to sleep after that late-night anime binge, the next… this?'
His unfocused gaze finally settled on a woman with vibrant red hair, her face etched with a mixture of pain and fierce love as she cradled him.
Beside her, a man with spiky yellow hair and a determined expression stood, his eyes filled with a sorrow that mirrored the chaotic scene around them.
'Wait… that hair… those people… Kushina? Minato? This… this can't be happening.'
The horrifying realization crashed down on him with the force of a rogue wave. The roars, the destruction visible in his limited field of vision, the desperate faces – it all clicked into place.
He was here, the night the Kyuubi attacked Konoha. He wasn't just watching it anymore. He was in it. As Naruto Uzumaki.
Panic clawed at his tiny chest. This wasn't some dream. This was real.
Then came the searing pain, a cold, malevolent presence being forced into his infant body. The red-haired woman, his mother, and the yellow-haired man, his father, were performing the sealing jutsu.
He couldn't understand the intricate hand signs, but the raw power emanating from them was undeniable. He felt a portion of that terrifying chakra settle within him, a dark, simmering weight.
His parents… they were going to die. He knew the story. The Shinigami, the sacrifice and tragedies to come.
His tiny body trembled, but no sound escaped his throat. He was just a newborn, trapped in a nightmare he knew all too well.
——
The scene shifted. He was being held by an old man with a stern yet weary face – the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi. Around them stood several grim-faced Jonin, their eyes reflecting the devastation that surrounded them.
"He is the son of the Fourth Hokage and Kushina Uzumaki," Hiruzen's voice was heavy, addressing the assembled ninja.
"They gave their lives to seal the Kyuubi's chakra. However…" A visible shadow crossed his face. "…only half could be contained within the Shinigami. The other half… is sealed within the child."
A murmur rippled through the Jonin. He couldn't decipher all the hushed words, but the underlying tone was clear: fear and suspicion.
'Damn it! They know. Of course, they know. Just like in the anime.'
Rage, hot and sharp, flared within him.
'Minato! You idiot! Why would you do that to your own son? And Hiruzen… you're just standing there, confirming their fears!'
He couldn't voice his fury, couldn't even properly focus his eyes, but the resentment burned fiercely within his infant heart.
Then, a new figure stepped forward. A man shrouded in darkness, his face partially concealed by bandages, a single calculating eye visible. Danzo.
"Hiruzen," Danzo's voice was low and gravelly. "It would be wise to entrust the boy to Root. We can ensure his… proper development. As a weapon for the village."
A cold dread washed over the newborn Naruto. He knew Danzo. He knew his methods.
'That bastard! Keep your grubby hands off me!'
Hiruzen's response, though silent to the newborn, was a firm shake of his head. Danzo's visible eye narrowed, but he didn't press the issue further.
True to the original timeline, Hiruzen decreed that Naruto would be sent to the Konoha Hospital, and later, to an orphanage.
His parentage would be kept secret, ostensibly to protect him, but the transmigrated soul within knew the truth. It was to shield the village from the potential backlash, and to keep him isolated.
Three years crawled by.
Each day was a monotonous cycle of survival in the cold, impersonal orphanage. Just as he remembered, the whispers started.
"Demon fox child."
"The Kyuubi's reincarnation."
Danzo's Root, as expected, had done their work, poisoning the well of public opinion. Eventually, the glares and muttered insults escalated, culminating in his expulsion from the orphanage.
'This is just great. Exactly as I remember. Abandoned and hated for something I had no control over.'
He found himself alone, a three-year-old child ostracized by the very people his parents had sacrificed themselves to protect. The surveillance was constant – unseen eyes watching him from the shadows.
Hiruzen's attempts to portray himself as a concerned grandfather felt hollow, manipulative.
'He just wants to keep the Kyuubi contained. I'm nothing more than a living weapon to him.'
For three years, he had tried to reach out to the Kyuubi, the Yang half of Kurama sealed within him. He would delve into his mindscape, a murky, dimly lit cavern with a massive barred cage in the center.
But the giant fox within remained stubbornly asleep, its massive form curled up behind the seals. There was no malevolent intent, no simmering hatred – just deep slumber.
Two more years passed.
He was five now, living in a small, sparsely furnished apartment provided by Hiruzen, with a meager monthly allowance. His diet consisted primarily of ramen from Ichiraku.
Not because he had any particular fondness for it initially, but because it was the only thing his allowance could consistently afford.
Yet, surprisingly, the taste grew on him.
'Huh. Maybe it really is as good as Naruto always said. I never would have thought instant noodles could taste this… different.'
He spent most of his time within the confines of his apartment. He had no desire to wander the village and invite the inevitable scorn and abuse.
The ever-present Anbu surveillance was a constant reminder of his precarious position.
One afternoon, as he sat on his worn futon, staring blankly at the opposite wall, a wave of frustration washed over him.
'Five years old. I can barely reach the top shelf, let alone train. And with those shadows watching my every move… it's impossible.'
The desire to escape this suffocating existence, this village that hated him, grew stronger with each passing day.
'Whoever sent me to this crazy world… I curse you! To be reborn as Naruto, of all people, without even a decent cheat ability…'
He knew, intellectually, that being a Jinchuriki, possessing the Uzumaki lineage's strong life force, and being the reincarnation of Asura Otsutsuki were significant advantages.
But the thought of the grueling training, the constant struggle for acceptance that defined the original Naruto's life, filled him with nothing but dread. He had no desire to walk that path.
Suddenly, a sharp, mechanical sound echoed in the silence of his small apartment. His eyes widened in surprise.
[System Initialising...]