In a modest room, the quiet was only broken by the soft sounds of four children breathing in their sleep. The space wasn't large, but it wasn't cramped either—just enough for four small beds, two of which were bunked against the walls. The faded paintings of animals and trees on the walls told anyone who entered that this was a space meant for children.
For a while, everything was still. Then, one pair of eyes fluttered open.
The boy shifted under his blanket, his body unusually heavy. He blinked a few times, his brows furrowing in confusion. 'Why do I feel so… tired?' The thought came sluggishly, as if his brain were wading through fog. He tried to reach for another thought—his name—but it slipped from his grasp.
The boy frowned, his discomfort deepening. "Why can't I remember my name?" He pushed harder, trying to pull the answer from somewhere, anywhere.
Then it hit him.
His eyes widened as something stirred deep within his mind—something foreign, something overwhelming. Panic clawed at him as pain erupted in his head, sharp and relentless. He clutched at his temples, his small hands trembling. A *scream* tore from his throat, raw and involuntary, before his body gave out and he slumped back into unconsciousness.
The scream shattered the stillness. The other children bolted awake, their startled cries filling the room. In the chaos, they spotted the boy lying limp on his bed, his face pale, his small chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. Panic set in as one of them dashed out of the room, yelling for the caretaker.
---
At the Hokage's office, the air was thick with smoke and paperwork.
Hiruzen Sarutobi 'The third hokage' sat at his desk, surrounded by an oppressive mountain of documents. The faint scent of tobacco lingered as he took a slow drag from his pipe. He was dressed in the traditional robes of his office, the white and red fabric pristine but weighty. His weary gaze wasn't on the papers, though. It was fixed on the window, where the monument of the Fourth Hokage stood etched into the mountainside.
"You were a great Hokage," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the crackle of his pipe. "You gave everything for the village."
His words were tinged with something unspoken—regret, perhaps. Or guilt.
'They remember you as the Yellow Flash, the savior of Konoha. But me? Decades of service, countless sacrifices, and I'm still just the old man who took over after you. He exhaled, smoke curling around his face. Maybe they're right. Maybe I was never enough.'
His hands trembled slightly as he placed the pipe on the desk. The truth clawed at him, though he rarely admitted it even to himself. He could have saved Minato. He could have intervened, made a different choice. But he hadn't.
"I let my pride , my hunger for power or either jealousy get in the way," he whispered. "And now the village suffers for it."
It had been a year since the Kyūbi's attack—a year since Minato had sacrificed himself to save Konoha. The village hadn't yet recovered. The losses from the assault had piled onto the scars of the Third Great Ninja War, leaving Konoha weaker than ever. The orphanages were overcrowded, the ranks of the ninja thinned. And the burden of rebuilding fell squarely on Hiruzen's shoulders.
With a weary sigh, he turned back to the papers. There was no time for reflection—not now.
---
At the orphanage, the boy stirred.
The medical ward was quiet, save for the faint hum of activity beyond its doors. The boy blinked slowly, his head pounding, his thoughts sluggish.
"Kazeo?" a gentle voice called.
He turned his head slightly, recognizing the face beside him. Sato Kaori. She was the caretaker here, a kind civilian woman who always wore a tired but warm smile.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice full of concern.
"I'm… fine," he murmured. "Just a little headache."
Kaori's shoulders relaxed. "That's good to hear. You've been out for a while. The doctor said you're fine, but you should take it easy today. Let me know if you need anything."
With that, she left, her footsteps fading down the hall.
The boy closed his eyes, but the peace didn't last. Memories—fragments, flashes—came rushing in, each one sharper than the last.
My name is… Tanaka Kazeo. But that's not the name I remember.
A cold realization settled over him as he pieced it together. This wasn't his world. This was fucking Naruto world .
The thought hit him like a hammer, leaving him breathless. This wasn't some fictional story anymore. This was reality—a world of danger, death, and chaos. A world where even children weren't spared the horrors of war.
"Why am I here?" The question lingered, unanswered. Fear twisted in his gut as the implications sank in. If he wanted to survive, he needed to get stronger. Much stronger.
But then another memory surfaced, one that felt closer, sharper. His old life. His family. His friends.
Tears welled in his eyes as the loss struck him all over again. 'They'll never know what happened to me. They'll think I'm gone forever.'
For hours, he lay there, wrestling with his thoughts. The grief of leaving his old life behind warred with the excitement of a second chance. Slowly, the tears dried, replaced by a fragile determination.
"I'm here now. There's no going back. If I want to survive, if I want to make this life worth living, I have to do whatever it takes."
With that, his body finally succumbed to exhaustion, and he drifted into a restless sleep.
-------
Kazeo's eyelids fluttered open, his vision blurry as he adjusted to the dim light of the orphanage room. A sharp inhale filled his lungs, the scent of old wood and damp fabric grounding him in reality. His small hands gripped the rough blanket beneath him, the weight of an unfamiliar body pressing down on his mind.
'So, it's real… I actually reincarnated.'
A strange mix of emotions swirled in his chest—excitement, dread, disbelief. He had expected something after death, but this? Being reborn in the world of Naruto of all places?
His lips curled into a wry smile as he ran a hand through his messy black hair. Tanaka Kazeo. That was his new name. A four-year-old orphan in Konoha, left behind in the aftermath of the Kyūbi's rampage. His new parents, people he had never even met had died a year ago, leaving him to be raised by the village-funded orphanage.
Shaking off those thoughts, Kazeo sat up, feeling the sluggishness in his limbs. His body wasn't weak, but it didn't feel his yet. His movements were awkward, like wearing a suit tailored for someone else.
'Guess my soul hasn't fully settled in yet. Should be fine in a few days.'
With a deep breath, he focused inward, scanning himself. He wasn't overly skinny, nor was he chubby—decent enough to start physical training. But there was something off. A strange, buzzing sensation thrummed beneath his skin, like an untapped energy waiting to be acknowledged.
And then, a spark.
A wave of warmth surged through his veins, spreading like wildfire, filling every corner of his being with a strange yet familiar presence. He felt as his whole body orgasamed a little and his breath hitched.
' Is this… chakra?'
The sluggishness faded almost instantly, his body feeling lighter, sharper, stronger. It was intoxicating, like taking a deep breath after being suffocated for years.
'So this is what it feels like to have chakra…'
His fingers flexed, itching to test this newfound energy. But there was something else, something crucial he had to check first.
If he had reincarnated… then where was his cheat?
Excitement sparked in his chest. He had read enough isekai novels to know the drill. He clenched his fists, whispering under his breath.
"System… Open."
Nothing.
"Status."
Silence.
"Status screen."
Still Nothing.
His jaw tightened. Maybe he had to say it out loud? He tried again, this time with different gestures, even striking a few ridiculous poses.
"…Goddammit."
The hope drained from his eyes as realization set in.
'Those damn novels LIED.'
No system. No golden fingers. No instant power-ups. He had been thrown into this world with nothing but his own will and knowledge.
His fingers dug into his palm, frustration simmering beneath his skin. He didn't need a system. Fine. If he had to crawl his way up from the bottom, then so be it.
Nearly eleven years. That was how much time he had before Orochimaru's attack on Konoha. If he wasn't at least Jounin-level by then, he might as well start digging his own grave.
His stomach growled loudly, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts.
"…Right. Food first."
Pushing himself up, he walked out of the room, only to be immediately met by three familiar figures.
Yamazaki Shizuka, Miyamoto Haruto, Kazuma.
His roommates or rather his only friends in this orphanage. They had been together for a year now, bound by their shared fate as war orphans. Only Shizuka was before us as her parents died in 3rd Great Ninja war. Others shared his fate.
"Kazeo!" Shizuka's voice was filled with worry as she rushed up to him. "What happened? Why did you scream this morning?"
"Yeah, are you okay now?" Haruto added.
Before Kazeo could respond, his stomach betrayed him.
Grumble.
Silence.
Then, laughter.
The three of them burst into giggles, Shizuka even clutching her sides. Kazeo's face twitched, heat creeping up his neck.
"…I'm starving," he admitted with a sigh. "Let's eat first, then I'll explain."
Still snickering, the trio followed him toward the cafeteria, only for them to run into Kaori.
The orphanage caretaker fixed him with a sharp look, arms crossed. "Kazeo, what are you doing out of bed? The doctor told you to rest."
Kazeo scratched his cheek, offering a sheepish smile. "I know, but I'm hungry."
His stomach grumbled again, much to everyone's amusement.
Kaori let out a sigh but shook her head fondly. "I sent food earlier, but you were asleep. I didn't want to wake you." She gestured toward his room. "Go back. I'll bring you something in a minute."
Kazeo groaned internally but nodded.
"And you three," Kaori turned to his friends. "Make sure he stays in his room. No running around."
"Yes, ma'am," they chorused.
And just like that, his chance to explore was crushed.
Back in his room, he ate quickly before sending his friends off, claiming he needed more rest. The moment they left, his mind kicked into overdrive.
'Roaming just after my chakra was unlocked … that was reckless.'
What if someone had sensed it? What if a Root ninja had been nearby?
Danzo's name alone sent a chill through his spine. The man had already recruited eight orphans from here two months ago.Now there are only 80 children's left here .If he showed even a hint of talent too soon, he'd be next.
His fingers curled into fists.
'No I won't be some mindless tool for Konoha. I need to be careful. I need to be smart.'
For now, he would play the part of an ordinary orphan. No sudden displays of power, no drawing attention to himself.
But in the shadows, he would grow. Because in this world, strength was the only thing that matter.
He then started thinking about his future plans .