Land of Fire.
Konohagakure Village.
Forest Training Grounds.
Thud. Thud. Thud!
Heavy, rhythmic impacts echoed through the quiet woods.
A boy—dressed in a standard green shinobi outfit—finally pulled back his fists and legs, panting hard. He wiped the sweat from his cheek with his forearm, bent down to pick up a water flask from the grass, and gulped it down in large mouthfuls.
He wasn't very old—eighteen or nineteen at most. His features were handsome and clean-cut, fair-skinned without any trace of fragility. His palms, however, were covered in thick calluses, betraying a level of maturity and hardship far beyond his age.
Standing before him was a maple tree thick enough for two people to wrap their arms around. Its trunk was straight and sturdy—but upon closer inspection, large pale marks covered its bark, faintly shaped like handprints, as if it had long suffered under someone's relentless training.
"Still not working today…?"
The boy closed his eyes and felt inwardly.
The chakra inside his body was still tangled and chaotic, like a pack of beasts without a leader—impossible to command.
He sighed.
The joy brought by improving his taijutsu was washed away completely.
"In a world built on ninjutsu, being unable to use chakra is no different from tying your own hands and feet. Don't tell me I'm going to become the second Rock Lee?"
"But Lee can still circulate chakra—otherwise he wouldn't be able to use the Eight Gates! I can't even control chakra normally at all!"
No wonder he lost his composure.
If he couldn't control chakra, then learning the Eight Gates was completely out of the question. Each Gate required not only relentless physical training, but chakra guidance to forcibly open the body's internal limits, allowing chakra to surge through the entire system and reinforce the body.
"So what's the point of having a cheat ability if I can't even use it?!"
Hunger gnawed at his stomach. With a helpless shake of his head, the boy packed up and headed back, making his way—out of long habit—to Ichiraku Ramen.
"Uncle Ichiraku, one bowl of ramen."
His name was Uzumaki Renka.
In his previous life, he had been an ordinary office worker—just another food-loving salaryman. His transmigration into the Naruto world happened for the most cliché reason imaginable: he was hit by a truck while crossing the street.
Absurd as it was, he accepted reality quickly.
People always said transmigrators got benefits—and Renka was no exception. He obtained a Naruto-style cheat ability: a Ninjutsu Codex. As long as he understood the principles behind a jutsu, he could learn it directly. Simple. Brutal. Extremely useful.
Unfortunately, every blessing came with a curse.
The body he transmigrated into belonged to the Uzumaki clan. Because of its special constitution, it had attracted Orochimaru's attention. The body had been subjected to numerous experiments—and as a final "bonus," Orochimaru implanted the Heavens' Curse Mark.
The original owner died from it.
Orochimaru discarded the body like trash.
Renka arrived at the exact moment a Konoha jōnin team was carrying out a mission nearby. He was rescued and brought back to the village. After three years of investigation and surveillance, Konoha finally released him.
But things didn't improve.
Because of Orochimaru's twisted experiments, the chakra inside his body was severely destabilized. Even at nineteen, Renka still couldn't use ninjutsu normally. Worse—every attempt felt like knives twisting inside his abdomen.
As a result, he could only train taijutsu, possessing a cheat ability with nowhere to apply it.
Each attempt to circulate chakra risked triggering the Curse Mark's rampage, dealing massive damage to his body—making him a regular at Konoha Hospital.
"Yo, Renka. Ramen again today?"
The uncle placed the bowl in front of him, his expression full of concern.
"Feeling any better? I heard you were hospitalized again yesterday—still pushing your chakra too hard?"
"Uncle, your information network is terrifying," Renka said dryly.
"Honestly, if you weren't a civilian, I'd suspect you were in ANBU."
"Hahaha! Don't joke around—how could I compare to those fine folks?" The uncle laughed heartily.
As the two chatted, a woman entered the shop.
She had spiky hair tied like a pineapple, wore a beige trench coat over black fishnet clothing, and moved with sharp confidence—her well-built figure impossible to miss.
Her obsidian eyes swept the room and locked onto her target.
"Uzumaki Renka. The Hokage has summoned you."
It was Mitarashi Anko—Orochimaru's former student. After spending time around her these past few days, Renka was fairly familiar with her.
"…The Hokage?" Renka hesitated.
"He's not sending me on a mission, is he? I can't even use chakra yet—"
"Ask me all you want, I wouldn't know," Anko cut in impatiently.
"You'll find out when you get there."
She turned and left immediately after delivering the message.
Still as unpleasant as ever… though I'll admit, the figure's impressive.
Renka paid the bill and followed her out.
---
Hokage's Office
With permission granted, Uzumaki Renka stood nervously before the Hokage's desk.
Behind it sat an elderly man with white hair and a thin frame—the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi—his head lowered as he processed paperwork. Renka didn't dare interrupt.
Five minutes later, Hiruzen finished, lifted his head, and placed his pipe between his lips—a familiar habit.
"Uzumaki Renka," he said calmly.
"Reports of your hospitalizations arrive almost daily. You've become quite famous among the shinobi."
"The Curse Mark's side effects haven't improved?"
"It seems Orochimaru was particularly fond of you."
"Come closer. Let me take a look."
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
As someone who knew the story of Naruto well, Renka understood that while the Third Hokage appeared gentle, his political depth was immense—working in tandem with Danzō as shadow.
Still, Renka wasn't afraid.
He had no intention of betraying Konoha. Compared to the other great nations, the Leaf Village was relatively safe and stable.
For a newcomer, it was an excellent starting point.
He stepped closer and studied the elderly man—his face lined with age, his posture seemingly frail, yet once known as the strongest Hokage of his era.
Under Hiruzen's kind gaze, Renka bowed slightly and revealed the black, three-tomoe Curse Mark on his neck.
Hiruzen examined it carefully. His aged fingers formed seals with surprising speed.
"This may hurt. Endure it."
His chakra-laden palm pressed against Renka's neck.
Dark inscriptions spread instantly, forming a black ring around his throat.
"AH—!"
Agony exploded through Renka's body. It felt as though he were being roasted alive.
Smoke curled upward from his neck.
Only after the burning faded—and a cool sensation replaced it—did Renka finally release his clenched teeth. His back was soaked in sweat.
"It's done," Hiruzen said, withdrawing his hand.
"As long as you don't draw on the Curse Mark's power, you should be able to circulate chakra normally from now on."
Renka gasped for breath.
The Curse Mark had vanished.
The discomfort inside his body rapidly faded—replaced by a warm, soothing flow.
Chakra.
"I—I can use chakra?!"
"Hokage-sama, does that mean I can use ninjutsu now?!"
Hiruzen exhaled a puff of smoke and smiled.
"Of course.
Where tree leaves dance... one shall find flames.
Use this power well—become an outstanding shinobi, and protect the village and its people."
The weight of his words carried tremendous force.
Even Renka—who didn't truly belong to this world—felt his heart stir.
"Yes, Hokage-sama! I won't disappoint you!"
…As long as it doesn't cost me my life ofcourse.
"The future belongs to the young," Hiruzen said warmly.
"You are the village's tomorrow. Go—train well."
He waved Renka away.
---
Outside the office, Renka's excitement gradually settled, replaced by careful thought.
Konoha is the best place for me to grow—safe, stable, and with unmatched training resources.
At my current level—not even a genin—the village won't send me on missions until I graduate from the Academy.
The original body died from Orochimaru's Curse Mark. If Orochimaru finds out I survived, he'll never let it go. Worse—he has dealings with Danzō. If I fall into Root's hands, I'm finished.
I remember Guy once tried to join ANBU but was rejected for being too hot-blooded. I can take a page from that book and lie low for now.
Still… the Third Hokage's speeches are terrifyingly effective. More persuasive than a cult leader.
The Will of Fire, passed down through generations…
What a good brainwash material tsk.
If I were truly from this world, I might've already been consumed by it.