Chapter 1: Chapter 1: A New Beginning
His eyes snapped open, heart pounding in his chest.
The room around him felt unfamiliar—small, sparsely furnished, and dimly lit, the air heavy with the smell of dust and something faintly metallic. The stillness was suffocating, broken only by the rapid thud of his heartbeat.
His head felt thick, clouded, as though he'd just woken from a long, disorienting dream. He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the fogginess.
He sat up, the thin mattress creaking beneath him, his limbs sluggish and stiff. The disorientation wasn't just mental—his body felt off, like it wasn't fully his own.
What... where am I?
He glanced around, trying to make sense of his surroundings, but everything felt so out of place. He took a slow, deep breath, attempting to ground himself, but confusion clouded his thoughts.
Did I... die?
The question hit him like a punch to the gut. The words felt unreal, trembling on the edge of his mind, but they wouldn't leave. If he had died, then why was he here? Why did he feel so alive?
His stomach churned, but before panic could rise up fully, fragments of memories flashed before him—blurry images of running, a bright light, the face of a child... and then, nothing. Just an empty void where the rest of the memory should have been.
Shaking his head, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his bare feet making contact with the cold, wooden floor. His body protested the movement, heavy and weak, like he hadn't moved in days—or maybe even weeks. The room seemed to tilt slightly, and he gripped the edge of the bed for balance.
He stood, unsteady, and stumbled toward the window. He needed something—anything—that could explain this nightmare.
When his eyes landed on the view outside, his blood ran cold.
Etched into the mountainside, carved in stone, were the faces of the Hokage—their stern, eternal gazes staring down at him.
"No way... is this... really Naruto's world?"
The sight was surreal. This place, this world, should have been nothing more than a distant memory from his favorite anime, something he'd seen on a screen. But now... it was real. Right in front of him.
He took a shaky step back, his hand running through his messy hair, mind racing.
How is this even possible?
The memories of his past life—his old life—felt distant, like stories he'd heard but never lived. But this... this was real. This world was brutal, alive with danger and chaos. People fought. People died. The innocent got caught in the crossfire.
His chest tightened.
I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for any of this.
He paced back and forth, his thoughts spinning.
I don't know how to fight. I can't survive here. This world is too dangerous for someone like me.
He clenched his fists, anxiety bubbling up. He wasn't a shinobi. He didn't have any skills to survive in this world. He didn't even know if he had anyone—family, friends, allies.
But then, something caught his eye—a small, old-fashioned mirror hanging on the opposite wall, reflecting a faint, flickering light.
He stopped pacing, his feet moving almost instinctively toward the mirror. Standing before it, he studied his reflection with an air of curiosity.
"Hey... not bad," he murmured, a sly grin spreading across his face. His fingers brushed through his hair, tousling it with a practiced hand, like he was trying to perfect that "I woke up like this" look.
"How'd I do that?" he muttered again, but this time there was a playful confidence in his tone, as though he'd already decided he looked fantastic.
"Hey, bro... not bad. How'd you pull that off?" he said aloud, cocking his head to the side as he gave himself a once-over in the mirror. His lips curled into a smirk as he examined his reflection like he was inspecting a new suit or the latest fashion trend.
He ran a hand through his hair again, giving it a bit of a shake, his eyes flicking over the rest of his outfit. Dark brown hair, messy but in that effortlessly cool way. His eyes were dark blue, sharp, but calm.
He didn't look extraordinary—just... normal.
*Is it normal to admire your own reflection this much?*
He shook his head, half-laughing at himself.
"Hahaha... What is wrong with me?"
Still, he couldn't deny it—he was looking pretty good.
He tried to comfort himself with that thought.
But then, a darker thought crept in.
Can I survive on just a handsome face?
He frowned, gazing at his reflection more seriously now.
Enemies would probably be even more motivated to kill me out of sheer jealousy of how good-looking I am. His self-assured grin slipped a bit, but only a little. He couldn't help it—he was undeniably good-looking.
Still, he had a feeling that wasn't going to be enough to survive in this world.
But wait...
Something wasn't right.
He leaned closer to the mirror, narrowing his eyes at his reflection. There, in his right eye, a faint blue glow shimmered—subtle but unmistakable, pulsing like a heartbeat of its own.
His heart skipped a beat.
"Wait... is that...?"
He reached up, fingers trembling, brushing against his eyelid. The glow wasn't just there—it felt alive. The concentric rings. The six-petaled design.
"It's... Tenseigan."
Shock hit him like a cold wave. For a moment, the panic that had been gnawing at him just moments before faded into the background.
Tenseigan. One of the most powerful dojutsu in the world.
He couldn't believe it. It felt impossible.
How was it possible that he had it? The thought of the power it granted sent a shiver through him, excitement mixing with fear.
This could change everything.
Maybe… maybe I'm not completely helpless after all.
But the realization quickly gave way to another, even more pressing thought: How do I control it?
His heart hammered in his chest as he stared at his reflection, the strange, raw energy swirling inside him. The Tenseigan wasn't just an ability—it was something deep, ancient, and powerful.
Tentatively, almost instinctively, he focused all his attention on his right eye.
The power was there. He could feel it humming beneath his skin, vibrating with potential.
And then, it happened.
The world around him seemed to shift. It wasn't a drastic change, but it was enough to make him feel like he'd stepped into a different reality. Everything was sharper, more vivid.
He could see every detail in the room—the smallest dust particles hanging in the air, the texture of the fabric in the curtains—as if the world had suddenly been magnified. It was like he was seeing through an entirely new lens, everything clearer than ever before.
He turned his gaze toward the window, and his vision stretched out far beyond Konoha.
The trees, the buildings, the hills—they all became crystal clear. He could see the curvature of the land and the way the landscape seemed to pulse, alive with energy.
But that wasn't all.
His eyes flicked downward, and in the streets below, his vision caught something new—glowing threads of chakra. They were faint, almost imperceptible, but they were there, connecting everyone to each other and the world around them.
The chakra of civilians flickered weakly, like small embers in the dark. But the chakra of shinobi—especially the jonin—burned bright, fierce like a blazing fire in the night.
His mind raced.
This is insane... my chakra... it's massive.
He could feel it now—the raw energy coursing through him, filling him, more than he had ever imagined. It felt almost limitless, like an ocean inside him, threatening to break free.
This is beyond anything I've seen in the anime...
A wave of power surged within him, overwhelming but exhilarating. He focused inward, trying to keep control, but the energy was almost too much. It took every ounce of willpower to keep it contained, to keep it from spiraling out of control.
This power... could make me a target.
He breathed deeply, trying to steady himself, but the weight of the realization sank in.
If anyone knew... if anyone found out what I have...
He closed his eyes and let the Tenseigan deactivate, the world around him slowly returning to normal, its edges dulling, the sharpness fading.
The glow of his chakra was gone, leaving behind only the quiet hum of his heartbeat. The room felt ordinary again, but the sense of potential lingered.
For a moment, he let himself indulge in the thought of what he could do, the possibilities stretching out before him.
But no... I can't get ahead of myself.
He turned away from the mirror, the resolve hardening in his chest.
I can't let anyone know. Not yet.
The fear was still there, gnawing at him. But it was different now. It was no longer just fear. Now, there was something else.
A chance.
A chance to survive.
And maybe, just maybe, a chance to carve out a place for himself in this world.
---
[Behind the Scene]
He smirked, stepping back from the window.
Okay, okay, maybe I'm not completely responsible here.
The Tenseigan's power allowed him to see everything, even things he probably shouldn't.
He couldn't help it. His gaze shifted—just for a moment—to the hot springs below.
Hmm...
A few women were bathing, their chakra threads glowing like golden strands.
"Well, that's definitely worth a second look."
He chuckled, knowing it was dangerous. But still, he couldn't resist.
"Whoa, those curves could make a grown man cry..."
He leaned in, heart pounding with the risk of being caught.
Let's just say... Tenseigan might be a little too powerful for its own good.
But after a moment, he straightened, shaking his head.
"Alright, alright, enough! This is dangerous—way too risky... but... wow, what a view."