Late at night, Zhang Ming, who had fallen back asleep, still couldn't rest peacefully. His tender, youthful face remained tense, twisted as if seized by an unseen force, his expression caught somewhere between pain and helplessness.
He wasn't merely dreaming he was reliving memories. Memories not his own, but those of Uzumaki Naruto, stretching back over four long, lonely years. A past so saturated with hatred and malice that it went beyond the scope of nightmares.
In those memories, the entire Hidden Leaf Village Konohagakure saw him not as a child, but as a vessel for the Nine-Tailed Fox, the Kyūbi, that had nearly destroyed the village twelve years prior. Every whisper, every glare, every cold shoulder from the villagers was like a dagger to the heart. People cursed him openly, blamed him for the death of their loved ones, and treated him as a monster.
Zhang Ming felt it all. The hidden pain behind Naruto's ever-smiling face, the desperate hunger for acknowledgment, the crushing loneliness that came with every sneer or avoidance. He experienced the cold of being left out of festivals, the fear that even shopkeepers would throw him out, the ache of watching children play together while he stood alone.
In those early days, Naruto lived in a small, shabby apartment far from the central districts of Konoha. He survived on instant ramen and expired groceries, because no one was willing to sell to the "demon fox." Yet despite the cruelty, the boy held onto a shred of hope always grinning, always misbehaving just to be noticed, craving even scolding if it meant someone spoke his name.
Zhang Ming was pulled into this mental tide against his will, drowning in raw emotions he had never known himself. It was suffocating. The memories poured in like floodwaters, submerging him in Naruto's past until the pain was no longer Naruto's it was his.
When he jolted awake in the dark, his breathing ragged, his blue eyes shimmered with lingering fear. But what replaced the fear was fury deep, burning malice that seemed to seep from his very soul.
Uzumaki Naruto and Zhang Ming were no longer two separate beings. With the merger of memories came a fusion of identity, a synthesis that transformed Zhang Ming forever. His thoughts, though still his, now had Naruto's fire beneath them.
'Is this… Ashura's chakra speaking to me?' he wondered bitterly. The voice in his heart begged him to forgive, to be gentle with those who had hurt him. But that notion seemed laughable now.
'Forgiveness? Kindness? For what? For being spat on and scorned? For the years of isolation and pain? These villagers these hypocrites they should be the ones seeking forgiveness.'
He clenched his fists.
'If this is Ashura's power, then he was a fool. Repaying hatred with kindness only breeds more hatred.'
'They called me a monster? Then maybe that's what I'll become.'
A chilling, mocking voice echoed through the darkness: "Heh… finally awake, Uzumaki Naruto?"
Zhang Ming turned sharply toward the voice, his golden hair rustling as a breeze swept through the space. The room had changed no longer his apartment, but a vast, dim corridor flooded ankle-deep with water. Iron bars loomed ahead, and from within them, two enormous crimson eyes flared open.
A monstrous fox head emerged from the shadows, its fangs bared, and its sinister aura unmistakable.
The Kyūbi Kurama.
Zhang Ming slowly stood up from the damp floor. Strangely, the water didn't soak his clothes, nor did it chill him. He bent down, scooped some into his hand, and watched it ripple away.
"What an unusual space," he muttered.
"You've got guts, brat," Kurama growled. "You play in water when standing before me?"
The beast's gaze narrowed. It didn't know why the child was here, but it sensed something different this time. When Zhang Ming had awakened chakra earlier, a strange reaction had stirred the seal and then, a sudden eruption of malice and hatred. So intense, even Kurama the very embodiment of hatred was taken aback.
There was something deeply unsettling about this child now.
Zhang Ming stared calmly into Kurama's eyes, the water from his hand dripping silently.
"You're not as terrifying as I imagined," he said.
Kurama's ears twitched in surprise. It had anticipated fear, trembling, maybe even tears. But this child stood firm. No rage, no terror only cold curiosity.
It raised its head slightly, intrigued now.
"Why don't you come a little closer, brat?" it sneered.
Zhang Ming didn't move. His mind was racing not with fear, but thoughts. Why had he encountered Kurama so soon? In the manga, Naruto didn't have real contact with Kurama until the Chūnin Exams, or during intense emotional strain.
Then he remembered: the system had granted him chakra mastery. That likely meant he could now sense and manipulate even the chakra sealed within him Kurama's included. Maybe this connection had triggered their premature meeting.
He looked up again and grinned. "Long time no see, Kurama."
The Kyūbi's eyes widened.
That name… it hadn't heard it in centuries. Not since the Sage of Six Paths. Even its own Jinchūriki didn't call it that.
"…How do you know that name, brat?" Kurama growled, more cautious now.
Zhang Ming chuckled, leaning back with ease. "Let's just say we've met before… maybe a few lifetimes ago."
"Don't mock me, child. Ashura died thousands of years ago!" Kurama snapped, its claws scraping the bars.
Zhang Ming adopted a thoughtful pose, fingers on his chin. "Maybe. Maybe not. But an old man with horns, white robes, and ripple-patterned eyes told me otherwise."
Kurama froze.
The Sage of Six Paths. Rikudō Sennin.
The very idea shook the ancient beast. That description was unmistakable. And if this child had truly been contacted by him…
Kurama's entire demeanor shifted. Its rage dulled, replaced by unease. "You're saying… you're Ashura's reincarnation?"
Zhang Ming gave a small shrug. "Reincarnation or not, it doesn't matter. I'm still me."
Kurama didn't respond immediately. For centuries, it had suffered betrayal, manipulation, and imprisonment. Could this brat be different? Could he truly be the bridge the Sage had once spoken of?
"So," Kurama said, "you came here to take my chakra?"
"Well," Zhang Ming replied, smiling faintly, "that's part of it. But…"
His smile widened. Something in the air darkened. Kurama, for the first time in decades, felt a chill creep down its spine.
"…I thought you might be bored, trapped in here all alone."
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