The night Konoha burned was painted in red and gold. Buildings collapsed beneath claw and flame. Shinobi
screamed. The sky itself seemed to tremble as the Nine-Tailed Fox roared—its hatred shaking the village to
its core.
At the center of the destruction, inside a hastily erected barrier of glowing adamantine chains, two figures
stood their ground.
Minato Namikaze's cloak was torn and soaked with blood. Kushina Uzumaki knelt beside him, her breathing
ragged, her chakra flaring violently as she restrained the monster tearing itself apart to escape.
Between them lay a newborn child.
"This is the only way," Minato said softly, though his voice carried the weight of a nation.
Kushina's hands trembled as tears streamed down her face. "I know… I know. But he's our son."
The seal activated. The Nine-Tails' chakra screamed as it was torn from Kushina and forced into the fragile
body of the infant. The air distorted. Reality groaned.
Outside the barrier, Hiruzen Sarutobi watched in silence, ANBU kneeling behind him. None dared interfere.
None could.
And none of them noticed it. At the exact moment the seal closed—at the instant the monster was bound—
another presence slipped through the cracks. Silent. Uninvited.
The baby's heart stopped. For one breathless second, the world held still. Then—It beat again.
Three Years Later
In The Night
Cold wind cut through the streets of Konoha. A Sarutobi-clan shinobi stood in front of a run-down
apartment building, a small blond child placed unceremoniously at his feet.
"Behave yourself," the man said flatly. He vanished. The door shut. Silence.
The boy didn't move. Then his blue eyes widened. Memories—not his own—crashed into his mind. A
different world. A frail body. Hospitals. Loneliness. Endless nights lit by glowing anime screens. Earth.
I… remember?
He remembered dying—not dramatically, not heroically—but quietly. From weakness. From sickness. From
a life that never truly began.
And now—he looked down at his hands. Small. Scarless. In the mirror, a three-year-old blonde with three
whisker marks on each cheek stared back at him.
"…I'm Uzumaki Naruto."
The realization struck like lightning. Naruto Uzumaki. Son of the Fourth Hokage. Jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails.
The village's scapegoat. Hated when weak. Praised when useful.
So this is my second life.
A hollow smile tugged at his lips. He walked through the apartment. One room. A thin bed. A cold kitchen.
No food. No warmth. No care.
I see how this goes. He knew the story. Knew the lies. Knew how this village would treat him until power
forced them to change their tune.
"They'll curse me while I'm weak," he said quietly, fists tightening. "And bow their heads once I'm strong."
His gaze hardened. "Fine. Strength is law in this world. And this time—I won't be anyone's tool."
He sat on the bed, staring at the cracked wall. "I know the future. Chakra. Power systems beyond this
world." A calm, dangerous confidence settled into his chest.
This time, I'll live freely. Not as a martyr. Not as a hero molded by others. But as someone who chooses his own
path.
Outside the apartment, unseen in the darkness, two ANBU watched. Inside, the boy closed his eyes. The
story of Uzumaki Naruto began again. And this time—It would not follow the original script.