Naruto - The God of Shinobi

Tomorrow, everything would change.

Tomorrow, I would truly be alone.

//////////

Next day -

The sun barely peeked over the horizon as I walked out of the orphanage, my footsteps slow, deliberate. Grandma walked beside me, her warm, wrinkled hand squeezing mine.

One by one, we dropped off the other kids at their new homes. When we finally reached mine, a strange silence settled between us.

She looked up at me, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Kazeo," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, "Promise me you'll visit."

I swallowed hard, my grip tightening. "I will."

Her hands trembled as she cupped my face, her touch lingering as if memorizing the shape of my features. "And if you ever need anything—anything at all—you come to me, okay?"

A small nod. "Okay."

She held me for a moment longer before pulling away, wiping at her eyes. "Alright, go. Before I start crying like an old fool."

I watched her walk away, her steps slow, reluctant. A strange heaviness settled in my chest, something foreign and uncomfortable.

I hated goodbyes.

Shaking my head, I turned toward my new home, pushing the door open.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the plain walls of my new home. The silence was heavy, pressing down on my chest in ways I hadn't expected. I had spent years in the orphanage, surrounded by noise—laughing kids, scolding caretakers, the occasional sound of a fight breaking out over a stolen piece of bread.

And now? Nothing.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. I need to stop thinking like this.

Instead, I forced myself to focus on the next step—survival. I had to learn the prices of food, vegetables, fruits, and meat. Living alone meant managing everything myself. No caretakers to provide meals, no grandma to remind me to eat.

A frown settled on my face. Cooking… That was going to be a problem.

In my previous life, my mother had always cooked for me. I never once thought to praise her, never realized how much effort she put into making meals. Now, with no one to do it for me, regret crept up my spine like a slow-burning fire.

I clenched my fists. I should've appreciated her more.

Shaking off the sad feeling, I moved on to another thought—one that brought a grin to my face.

Chakra paper.

I needed to find some. If I had two or more chakra natures… my life would be set. I could train in multiple jutsu, become unstoppable as my chakra would be large like Naruto .

I grinned wider, eyes gleaming. No one would be able to defeat me.

My thoughts spiraled further into fantasy. Images of myself standing on a battlefield, crushing enemies with overwhelming power. My mere presence making Kunoichi blush and swoon—just like those overpowered protagonists from the novels I used to read.

I snorted. Yes, this is the path of a true main character.

And then—

Ding-dong!

The doorbell shattered my daydreams, pulling me back to the present. My grin faltered as I blinked, momentarily confused.

I sighed, shaking my head. Here I go again…

Even in this life, I was stuck in the same habit—dreaming of an ideal world instead of focusing on reality. In my previous life, I used to fantasize about getting transported to a magical realm, thinking about all the amazing things I would do. And now? I was finally in one… and I was still doing the same thing.

Sigh 'When this habit of mine will leave me?'

The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time.

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling. Alright, alright. Time to face reality.

Pushing myself up, I walked toward the door, wondering who had come to see me.

I opened the door.

Standing there was the scarred chunin from the written exam. His expression was unreadable, his gaze sharp and assessing.

He nodded. "Hello! Kazeo, I'm Okabe. Your instructor for this year."

I straightened unconsciously and bowed slightly "Hello, sensei. I am Tanaka Kazeo, I'll be in your care."

A flicker of approval crossed his face. "Good manners," he noted before handing me a small pouch. "Here's your stipend—2,000 ryo. More than enough for monthly expenses. And here—" he tossed a pack of ration bars into my hands, "—your food supply for the week. Fourteen bars for seven days. Once they're finished, get more from the Academy."

I stared blankly at the dull, colorless bars in my hands.

Ration bars.

'I had seen these in the anime—those bland, lifeless bars that shinobi carried on missions. Sai had called them 'mud balls,' and now I understood why.'

Certainly, It was different than that but purpose of both was nearly same.

I forced a polite smile. "Understood, sensei."

He must have sensed my hesitation because he added, "Every shinobi eats these. They've been designed to provide maximum nutrition with minimum waste. Get used to them."

A deep sigh threatened to escape me, but I held it in. Great. So this was why Naruto practically lived on ramen.

Okabe gave me a final nod. "Class starts in three days. Be on time."

With that, he turned and left.

I shut the door behind him and stared at the ration bars in my hands.

'Three days to prepare,huh'

I unwrapped a ration bar and took a bite.

Dry, Chalky, Tasteless.

It wasn't disgusting, but it wasn't food either.

It just… existed.

I chewed slowly, feeling the grainy texture crumble in my mouth. Was this what shinobi survived on? No wonder they always looked so serious.

Swallowing it down, I let out a sigh. "Calling this a ration bar is too generous… 'Mud bar' sounds more accurate."

I took another bite, forcing it down as I stared at my new home. This was just the beginning. A life of solitude, training, and tasteless food.

------

I stepped out of my small apartment, locking the door behind me. The cool morning air brushed against my skin, carrying the scent of fresh bread and sizzling meat from the food stalls ahead. Today was my first real day of independence.

The marketplace was alive with energy. Vendors shouted out prices, customers haggled, and children ran through the streets, laughing. I had been here before with Grandma, but this time, I wasn't just tagging along—I was here to fend for myself.

I made my way to the vegetable and fruit shop where the orphanage used to get its supplies. As I approached, the shopkeeper, an elderly man with a thick mustache, noticed me and broke into a wide grin.

"Ah! Kazeo-kun! Look at you, a proper shinobi now!" he said, his voice full of warmth.

His wife, a plump woman with kind eyes, clapped her hands together. "We heard from Grandma! You passed the entrance exam! Congratulations, dear!"

I gave them a small smile, rubbing the back of my head. "Thank you. I still have a long way to go."

The old man chuckled. "A long road, indeed! But you've taken the first step. What brings you here?"

I glanced at the fresh produce. "I need to know the prices of vegetables and fruits. I have to start cooking for myself now."

His wife nodded approvingly. "That's good! A shinobi must take care of his body. Here—let me tell you the prices."

She listed everything for me while I made mental notes. 15 ryo for fruits, 30 ryo for a tray of eggs, 16 ryo for a liter of milk. As she spoke, I realized how little I actually knew about managing food.

The old man must have noticed my troubled expression because he chuckled. "It's tough, isn't it? Learning how to live on your own."

I sighed. "Yeah… I never really thought about all this before."

The shopkeeper patted my shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. And if you ever need help, come by. You're always welcome here."

His words eased some of my worries. I thanked them and continued on my way.

---

After getting the basic food prices, I made my way to a weapons shop. The moment I stepped inside, the scent of metal and oil filled my nostrils. The shop was lined with rows of gleaming kunai, shuriken, and swords of all shapes and sizes.

The blacksmith, a burly man with a scar running down his left cheek, looked up from his work. "You look new. What do you need?"

I walked up to the counter. "I need a chakra paper."

He raised an eyebrow. "Trying to check your affinity, huh? That'll be 300 ryo."

I winced slightly at the price but nodded and handed over the money. As he retrieved the paper, I glanced at the other weapons. A set of shuriken and kunai cost 3,000 ryo. A basic sword was 10,000 ryo. The prices were insane.

The blacksmith smirked, catching my reaction "Expensive, huh?"

I let out a dry chuckle. "More like ridiculous."

He leaned on the counter. "Kid, shinobi tools aren't cheap. You're buying more than just metal—you're buying your life's security. A cheap kunai might break in battle. A good one? That could be the difference between living and dying."

His words held weight. I nodded, pocketing the chakra paper. "I'll come back when I have the money."

He grinned. "Smart choice. Good luck out there, kid."

---

Before heading back, I made a few more purchases—a tray of eggs, a liter of milk, some fruits, a cooking book, and five cups of instant ramen. The prices were manageable, but the cost of weapons still lingered in my mind.

As I walked back to my apartment, my hands full of groceries, I sighed.

Being a shinobi wasn't just about training hard. It was about surviving—mentally, physically, and financially.

For now, though, I had everything I needed.

It was time to begin my new life.

----

As soon as I stepped inside my apartment, I shut the door behind me and let out a long breath. The room was still as quiet as when I had left—no children running around, no Grandma humming in the background. Just me.

I placed my groceries on the tiny kitchen counter, my hands slightly trembling. This was it. The moment of truth.

I sat cross-legged on the bed, the chakra paper resting in my palm. My heart pounded in my chest. This single slip of paper could determine the path of my future.

A nervous chuckle escaped my lips. "Alright, if gods exist, now's the time to prove it."

I clasped my hands together, bowing my head slightly.

"Hey Shiva, Brahma, Vishnu… Allah, Jesus, Buddha… and every god I don't even know about… If you are real, if you are listening—just give me two or more chakra natures. Please! I swear I will preach your religion here! I'll build temples, mosques, churches—anything you want! Just bless me with talent!"

The desperation in my own voice startled me. Was I really begging the divine for power?

But I didn't stop. I kept praying, my lips murmuring promises, my fingers digging into my palms.

Five minutes passed.

I took a deep breath and slowly, carefully, directed my chakra into the paper.

The world around me seemed to still.

The thin slip trembled slightly in my grasp. Then—

To be continued...

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[ Author here !

How was the chapter ?

Do you need these type of chapters more like without training and all ?

Do let me know.

Thank you Asmodai_9 and Arm_0312 for Powerstones

Tomorrow there will be no chapter .

I will be going to the Kumbh Mela happening in India right now for a day.

I need to cleanse myself of the loneliness of Valentine's Week.

Will continue as usual after that.

]