Shota left the Suna jutsu archives. He decided to walk home slowly and have some alone time with himself and his thoughts.
Two weeks away on a mission, facing the Yellow Flash of Konoha, and he was still breathing.
His sister and their cat, the two occupants of his house, were probably ready to chew him out for being gone so long.
He braced himself for their complaints, already picturing his sister's scowl and the cat's judgmental stare.
He was still relieved Minato Namikaze hadn't killed him. The man might seem like a softy in the anime, all smiles and hero vibes, but Shota knew better. J
ust ask the thousand Iwa shinobi Minato would slaughter single-handedly in the future. 'Well,' Shota thought, kicking a pebble down the street, 'I don't know why my words worked. Maybe he really wanted to avoid conflict with Suna, or maybe it's something else. Whatever it was, I'm glad I'm alive.'
If he knew Minato had spared him because of a prophecy, some Toad Sage nonsense about a kid with blue eyes and another with lazy black eyes saving the world, Shota would've been scared out of his mind.
'Save the world?' he'd have whined. 'I just want to nap, eat ramen, and pet my cat! Why can't I have a lazy life? Is that too much to ask?'
He'd probably have shaken his fist at the sky, demanding to speak to the prophecy manager.
Shota's thoughts drifted to his first life, back on Earth. He still remembered dying, the moment everything went dark.
A screen had popped up in front of him, glowing like some video game. "Congratulations!" it had said, all cheerful and annoying. "You've been selected for the Reincarnation Program to the Naruto World! Choosing your trump card." Shota had blinked, thinking, "What? Is this a scam? Where's the fine print? And does not I get a say in it? Can't I just be reincarnated as a beer and hibernate for half the time."
Before he could protest, the screen changed with a burst of digital confetti, actual confetti, like a cheap party trick.
In bold white letters, it read: 'Quirk: Erasure'. Then, as if that wasn't enough, it switched again: 'Converting Quirk Erasure to Kekkei Genkai Erasure to suit the Naruto World.'
"Good luck on your journey to the next world!" the screen had chirped, then vanished.
No explanation, no Q&A session, no chance to negotiate.
"Hey!" Shota had wanted to yell. "Can I get a manual? Maybe some extra powers? How about a nice beach house instead of a war zone?" He'd have settled for a coupon for free ramen, but nope, straight to rebirth as a screaming baby in a Suna orphanage.
When he opened his eyes as an infant, surrounded by sandstone walls and people in desert robes, he knew he was in Suna.
The dry air, the endless sand, it was unmistakable. Honestly, he was happy to be in Suna over the other villages.
Konoha? Sure, it was the "hero" village, but Danzo was out there, scheming like a cartoon villain. Shota shivered, imagining Danzo locking him in a Root dungeon, turning him into a brainwashed drone. "Join my child soldier program or else," Danzo would probably hiss, twirling an imaginary mustache. And Orochimaru? That creep would take one look at Shota's Kekkei genkai/ dojutsu and think, "Ooh, shiny new body to steal!" Shota could picture him slithering up, all smiles and snake eyes, offering "experiments" that ended with Shota as a lab rat.
Kumo wasn't much better. Those guys kidnapped a five-year-old Hyuga to breed Byakugan kids like some creepy genetic farm. With Shota's kekkei genkai, they'd probably chain him to a bed and turn him into a breeding horse. "Produce more dojutsu babies!" they'd demand, handing him a clipboard with a schedule.
"Monday: make ten kids. Tuesday: make ten more!" The thought made him gag, and not just because of the logistics. He wasn't about to become Kumo's prize stallion.
Suna had its own plans, of course. The elders were probably waiting for him to hit sixteen before they started nudging him toward marriage. "Time to make little dojutsu babies, Shota!" they'd say, probably with a creepy smile from Gisei.
Shota grimaced. 'I don't think my kekkei genkai even works that way,' he thought. 'It's not some clan trait, it's a gift from whatever cosmic jerk sent me here. No way my kids are inheriting this.'
He wasn't planning on a big family anyway. One sister and a grumpy cat were enough responsibility.
Kiri was a hard no. The Bloody Mist lived up to its name, graduation exams where kids fought to the death, a history of hunting kekkei genkai users like animals.
Shota would've been toast the second they saw his ability. Iwa might've been okay, but Suna was better. Why? Because Gaara would eventually become Kazekage, and that guy was chill. A leader who'd been through hell and came out kind?
Sign Shota up. Plus, Suna's current roster wasn't bad. Rasa, the Fourth Kazekage, was a beast with his gold dust, and Pakura of the Scorch Release was still alive, not yet betrayed. With two active S-rank shinobi and two retired ones, Suna wasn't as weak as it would be later.
Still, Suna had downsides. It was the weakest of the five great villages, battered by losses in every major war.
They lacked kekkei genkai clans, and their pool of high-level shinobi was small. Shota thought of the future, when Deidara and Sasori attacked to kidnap Gaara. Suna's shinobi just stood there, useless, while Gaara fought alone. That was years away, but it was a reminder: Suna needed to get stronger, and Shota was part of that.
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he neared his house. The home came into view.
He'd been gone two weeks, and his sister was probably ready to lecture him. The cat, too, would probably hiss and ignore him for a day. "Ungrateful furball," he muttered, but a smile tugged at his lips.
He reached his front door, the familiar creak of the hinges welcoming him. Before he could step inside, two figures barreled into him, his sister and the cat, tackling him with surprising force.
His sister's arms wrapped around him, her voice muffled as she yelled something about him being late. The cat, not to be outdone, swiped at his leg, probably mad about an empty food bowl. Shota stumbled but caught himself, a small smile breaking through.
"I'm home," he said.