Minato with a Gacha

MC's POV

So… I'm Minato Namikaze. The Fourth Hokage. The Yellow Flash of the Leaf.

I've been sitting here for hours, letting that fact sink in. I'm in his body. I'm in his world. Hell, I'm not even "me" anymore. I'm… someone else. Every nerve, every muscle feels strange, like they don't quite belong to me. But I move, I breathe, I see through his eyes, even though every inch of me knows this isn't my life.

How did this happen? One minute, I was sitting at my desk back in my mundane, soul-crushing office job, filling out some ridiculous "Make a Wish" prompt as a joke. And then… well, this happened. Now, I'm in a whole other universe, in the body of a man who's apparently both a hero and a Hokage.

I've woken up in stranger places—usually after a long night of drinking. But this? Nothing prepared me for this.

And then, of course, there's Kushina Uzumaki.

As soon as I woke up, dazed and barely able to move, I saw her standing over me. I didn't know who she was at first. Beautiful woman, striking red hair, strong features. But it didn't take long for her to realize I wasn't… him. Somehow, she saw right through me. Maybe it was in my eyes, or the way I held myself, or just… some part of me that didn't fit with her memory of her husband.

The moment she looked into my eyes, she didn't flinch. She just… knew.

She didn't scream, or cry, or even lash out. She just looked at me, this steady, intense gaze that seemed to burn right through every lie I hadn't even said yet. And I could tell, from that single look, that I couldn't fake my way out of this. She was too sharp. She'd known Minato—really known him—and no amount of pretending was going to fool her.

I tried explaining myself, not that I had much to say. I didn't have answers for her; I didn't even have answers for myself. How could I? I was as much in the dark as she was.

"Look," I'd told her, hands raised in a gesture that I hoped looked non-threatening. "I… I don't know how this happened. I'm not Minato, not really. I don't remember his life, I don't have his memories. I'm… someone else who's just… here now. And I have no idea why."

She was silent for a long time, her gaze unwavering, unblinking. I could almost feel her weighing me, evaluating me. If I were her, I probably would've drawn a weapon on the spot. But she didn't. Instead, she just asked the question that had clearly been on her mind since the moment I'd opened my eyes.

"What are you?" she'd said, voice low, barely above a whisper. "Are you… some kind of Shinigami?"

"No," I'd replied, shaking my head. "At least… I don't think so." The absurdity of it all struck me then. I'd been given a new life, a new existence, and I didn't even know what I was. "I'm just… me. I don't know how else to explain it. I'm not a shinigami, not an enemy—I'm just… here."

Her eyes narrowed, her mouth set in a thin line as she processed my answer. She didn't seem afraid.

We'd talked for what felt like hours. I tried to explain, tried to make her understand that I hadn't done anything, that whatever had put me in her husband's body was beyond my control. I hadn't meant to take anything from her, and certainly not from Minato. But none of that made it easier for her to accept, I could tell.

And yet, somehow, she didn't reject me outright.

Maybe it was her own strength, her own resolve. She was a kunoichi, after all—a top-notch shinobi who knew what it meant to make difficult decisions. And in that moment, she made one. She looked at me, her expression unreadable, and said:

"If you stay, you'll pretend to be him. You'll be the Fourth Hokage in the eyes of everyone. The village cannot know. Konoha can't afford to look weak."

The weight of her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Pretend to be Minato? Be the Hokage? I could barely understand where I was, let alone navigate life as some kind of legendary warrior. But I didn't argue. What could I say? She was right. If people knew Minato had died, it would put the village in unimaginable danger. I understood that much, at least.

And so, I'd agreed.

Since that conversation, I haven't been able to shake the feeling of… guilt. It's strange. I don't have Minato's memories, his emotions, or his sense of duty, but I still feel like I'm intruding. This wasn't my life to begin with, and yet I'm expected to carry it forward as though it were. How do I live up to the expectations of a man who was a hero to so many? A man who gave his life for this village?

Even worse, I don't know how long I can keep up this charade. Kushina's words ring in my ears every time I look in the mirror: "You'll pretend to be him."

I've tried to imagine myself as him, but… it feels impossible. I have no idea how to wield chakra, no idea what a "jutsu" even looks like, and no sense of how to act like a legendary leader. All I have is this body, this face, and a promise to Kushina.

And then there's Naruto. I didn't see much of him during my talk with Kushina, but I know he's here, somewhere. Her son. Her and Minato's son. He's so small—just a baby, really. I can't help but think about him, lying there, completely innocent, oblivious to the weight of everything happening around him. I don't know him, and yet… I feel like I owe him something.

Maybe that's why I agreed to this. Because even though this wasn't my world, these weren't my people, I felt the weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders the second Kushina looked at me and asked me to be Minato Namikaze.

I'm in a stranger's body, living in a world I don't understand, surrounded by people I'll never truly know. But if I can help—even if it's just for a while—maybe this second chance isn't such a curse. Maybe it's the result of the wish I asked for.

So I'll do it. I'll play the part, even if it feels like wearing someone else's skin. I'll be the Hokage. I'll be Minato Namikaze.