A vast expanse of clouds stretched endlessly in all directions.
White, soft, and luminous — an ocean of silence and light.
Akira stood there, barefoot on air, his reflection rippling faintly across the vapor beneath him.
And ahead floated a black screen — rectangular, glossy, like a fragment of the void itself.
He blinked.
"Well… this is new," he muttered, gazing around. "At least it's peaceful. Could use a chair, though."
As if answering your thought, a cloudy chair formed behind you — soft, plump, and perfectly shaped.
He blinked twice, then grinned. "Oh, we're doing this kind of simulation, huh?"
He sat down.
The cloud was solid yet cushiony, cool to the touch, and impossibly comfortable.
"Ahh…" you sighed, leaning back. "This might be the best sofa I've ever sat on."
Before him, the black screen flickered to life.
> Loading… 1%... 5%... 20%... 50%... 70%... 100%...
Then glowing words appeared:
> Warning: In this simulation, you will experience an alternate life where the system was never activated.
You will have no system awareness.
Mode Selected: Lucky Mode (Son of Luck Buff Active)
Simulation Starting…
He stared at the screen, his gaze sharpening.
"So this is it. Let's see what kind of life I'd live without your help, huh?"
The screen pulsed once — and the clouds around him began to dissolve.
---
[Simulation: Start]
Day 1
You wandered through the Uchiha District, the afternoon sun reflecting faintly in your dark eyes.
Only five years old — short, still round-cheeked, barely able to mold chakra — and yet, your thoughts were far from those of a child.
You knew what year this was.
You knew what was coming.
The Uchiha Clan Massacre.
The realization weighed on you like an invisible chain. You couldn't stop thinking about it — how to prevent it, or at least how to survive.
Your small hands clenched.
"I'm too weak… I don't even know the Clone Technique yet. I can't fight, can't defend, can't even run far enough…"
You kicked at a pebble, frustration bubbling inside.
Just then, a familiar voice called out.
"Akira! We're going to practice shuriken next evening. Want to come?"
Sasuke Uchiha stood nearby, bag slung over his shoulder, Itachi walking beside him with quiet composure.
You forced a smile. "Yeah, sure! I'll come later."
As they left, you exhaled softly, mind swirling with memories.
You remembered this scene — fragments from the host body's past. You'd practiced with Sasuke and the others many evenings like this before.
That night, after dinner, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Every thought circled back to the same question: Can I change this fate?
But by dawn, the answer hadn't come.
---
Day 2
Morning arrived with the scent of rice and miso. Your mother's voice gently woke you.
You dragged yourself from bed, more irritable than before. The problem haunted you even in dreams.
"I can't warn Itachi," you muttered between bites of breakfast. "Who'd listen to a five-year-old? And even if they did, my parents might get in trouble…"
You sighed deeply. "No one can protect me. The Sannin are gone, the Fourth Hokage is dead… what options do I even have?"
After lunch, your mother urged you to go outside.
You reluctantly obeyed, remembering that you had promised Sasuke to play.
At the training ground, several children were gathered — six or seven Uchiha kids, ranging from ages four to eight.
The oldest, Karui Uchiha, already had one tomoe in her Sharingan at age eight — the pride of the younger generation, second only to Itachi.
They laughed, competed, and practiced shuriken throwing under the orange sun.
For a while, your thoughts drifted — until a stray shuriken flew wide and landed beyond a line of trees.
"I'll go get it!" you called out.
You jogged through the brush, and soon the ground sloped downward — a shallow valley, maybe ten meters deep, surrounded by trees and rock.
At the bottom lay what seemed to be an old, dried riverbed. The air was cool, and the soil had the cracked texture of something that hadn't seen water in decades.
You found the shuriken, but something caught your eye — a mound of earth tucked near the wall of the pit.
Curious, you stepped closer and nudged it with your foot.
Clang.
You froze. That was the sound of metal.
Heart quickening, you began to dig with your small hands until the tip of a metallic box emerged — brown, rusted, and aged beyond recognition.
Roughly 30 centimeters long, 10 wide, 5 tall. The hinges screeched when you pried it open.
Inside were dozens of old talismans, yellowed and weather-worn. Some bore faint explosive seals.
"Detonating talismans…?" you whispered.
You remembered reading somewhere that in Konoha's early days, sealed traps had been placed around the village — and this spot was near the Forest of Death.
"So this is one of them…"
You stuffed several into your pocket. Your shorts bulged awkwardly, but to any passerby, it was just a child hoarding stones.
The rest you buried again and threw the empty box deep into the trees.
"Akira!" someone shouted from afar.
"I'm coming!" you replied, brushing off dirt and running back.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully — shuriken practice, laughter, sunset, and then dinner at home.
Days blurred together — until a soft, unseen voice whispered again.
---
> Day 23.
That morning, Sasuke approached you again.
"Hey, Akira. I can't play tomorrow. Classes are ending late."
---