Like most people, I never really thought about how I would die. I knew it would happen eventually, sure—but I never imagined it'd be truck-kun that ended my life at twenty.
Just before that fateful impact, I had wrapped up college with a degree in electrical engineering. My life was just getting started. I was lining up job interviews, planning to earn some cash, maybe find someone special and settle down.
But before my life could truly begin, it ended. Tragic, or at least I'd like to think so.
As I lay in the street, consciousness fading, I realized no one was coming to help. Truck-kun, that merciless bastard, just kept driving off—mockingly slow. My world began to darken.
I was upset, of course. But I accepted it. There would be no tomorrow. No more seeing my brothers. No more playing with my dog. No more hugs from my mother.
Everything I loved—gone. Out of reach.
"I haven't seen my father in a month... I wish I'd spent more time with him," was the last thought that crossed my mind before everything went black.
But then... I was reborn.My world didn't end as I expected. One moment, I took my last breath—and the next, my first.
Everything was a blur. Cold air filled my lungs, and distant sounds—footsteps, chatter—filtered through to my ears.
I drifted in and out of consciousness. No idea where I was. I'd been an above-average student, nothing special. Just another city kid with divorced parents, taking the bus to college. It was 2020. I wasn't some chosen one.
So why was I reincarnated?
I didn't wish for this. I didn't deserve this. But here I was.
As my senses sharpened, I began to learn where I had ended up.I caught sight of a woman—my mother—with pale, blank eyes. People murmured "Hyuga-sama" as she passed. Hyuga? I was most likely one of them.
'Hopefully not a branch member,' I thought, before sleep took me again.
My first birthday brought some much-needed clarity.First: I wasn't part of the branch family. I was the grandson of a recently deceased elder, and my mother—his only daughter—had never been sealed. Hopefully, I'd escape that fate too.
Second: I probably wasn't a full-blooded Hyuga. I'd overheard gossip among the branch members: my mother had been captured by Hidden Mist shinobi during a mission, the only survivor to return after two weeks of "torture and interrogation."
Apparently, my stark white hair was a hot topic among the clan. Plenty speculated that something... else happened during her captivity. She, however, claimed my father had been a Konoha-nin, and kept the truth to herself.
Third: I learned my name—Shiro Hyuga. Fitting, in a bleak kind of way.
My relationship with my mother? Minimal. She rarely visited. When she did, she just stared—never picking me up, never changing my diapers. Those duties fell to silent, dutiful branch members who offered no conversation, leaving me starved for attention and vocabulary.
My birthday was a quiet affair. Typical for the Hyuga. My mother held me for the first time in months, parading me around to meet the elders and clan head. I didn't recognize any of them—no Hiashi, no Hizashi. Probably somewhere between the First and Third Shinobi Wars.
As I was carried around, I let my thoughts wander. What did the future hold? What could I accomplish in this new life?
Time passed.At two, I talked constantly, trying to soak up vocabulary from anyone nearby—probably annoying the branch caretakers. I developed basic motor skills and started experimenting with my chakra, hoping to awaken my bloodlines early.
I pushed chakra to my eyes, my bones, circulated it throughout my body, trying to improve control. No major success, but I kept at it.
At three, I had a rough conclusion: no Shikotsumyaku. Despite flooding my bones with chakra daily, nothing happened.However, I did have something else: a healing factor.
I broke my arm while climbing the walls of my room. I heard the snap—but minutes later, it was perfectly fine. When the branch members checked, they found nothing. I was dismissed as a dramatic toddler.
I had better luck with the Byakugan. I could activate it, though the range was pitiful—barely a meter. Honestly, it made my vision worse. But it let me see my own chakra network from the neck down, which was a huge help in refining control.
At four, my formal training began: light exercise, katas, and chakra drills with other Hyuga children.I stuck out like a sore thumb. A sea of black hair... and then me, with my mop of straight white.
The other kids mostly avoided me. I didn't blame them. But it still stung.
Despite that, I excelled.
While my taijutsu was still basic, my chakra control, stamina, and strength stood out. Within weeks, I was labeled a prodigy and pulled from the group to train one-on-one with a branch instructor named Haruto.
Not much changed socially. My mother offered a rare "Good work, you're doing the clan proud," and a pat on the head. That was it. She remained cold and distant.
I didn't blame her. I was a reminder of something she probably wanted to forget.
Under Haruto's harsh training, I was pushed to my limits daily—then patched up by my healing factor, only to go again. He taught me tenketsu, organ placement, how to strike to maximize internal damage. Then told me to keep training.I asked—repeatedly—to learn medical ninjutsu.
He refused—repeatedly.
"Unbecoming of a main branch member," he eventually said, after I proved my chakra control by water-walking.
Ugh.
Still, I didn't give up. I said I wanted to heal myself so I could train harder and bring more honor to the clan. Still nothing.Eventually, I shelved that goal—temporarily. I trusted my healing factor to get me through until the Academy. I'd return to medical jutsu later.
In the evenings, I experimented with my Byakugan.I followed the flow of chakra through my brain and eyes, adjusting the intensity in tiny increments. Cautiously. Praying I wouldn't injure myself.
I discovered I could narrow my field of vision—from 360 degrees down to about 170. With that, my range dramatically improved. I could still see chakra, still see through walls. It was a major upgrade.
Energized by the success, I kept pushing.
Soon, I learned to slow my perception of time—like a discount Sharingan. I was ecstatic. I couldn't stop smiling for days.
Naturally, I got cocky.I started experimenting with enhancing other areas of my brain using chakra—not just the Byakugan's automatic paths.
That stunt got me hospitalized.
I suffered a mild stroke. I lied and said I overloaded my eyes while awakening the Byakugan. The doctors bought it, barely. My mother gave a noncommittal "hmm."
On the bright side, my healing factor was officially noted.
I was released with strict orders not to train unsupervised. On the way out, I took a moment to count the faces on the Hokage Monument—trying to gauge the timeline.Back home, training resumed—harder than ever. Physical drills, spars, medical lectures, Byakugan techniques. It cut into my free time, but I didn't mind. I had no one to spend it with anyway.
And I'd decided to leave my brain alone for now—at least until I was confident that my healing factor or future medical knowledge could fix any damage.
So I trained. And experimented. And improved.My Byakugan expanded. My perception sharpened. I stopped pushing into unknown territory—but I didn't stop learning.
I was a prodigy. A lone one, but a prodigy nonetheless. And I had plans.
Big ones.
I had Hyuga blood. Kaguya blood. A healing factor. The chance at unlocking both the Tenseigan and Shikotsumyaku without stealing bodies or grafting Hashirama cells.
I had potential—and I wasn't going to waste a second of it.
Strength was my first goal. Immortality… perhaps my last.
I had ambition, and now I had the tools.
Let's see what this new life in the Naruto-verse has in store.
Let me know if you want a chapter title for this one, or to adjust any character details!
You said:Stop boldening Haruto name
ChatGPT said:
Got it! Here's your revised chapter excerpt with Haruto's name no longer bolded and everything else intact:
Like most people, I never really thought about how I would die. I knew it would happen eventually, sure—but I never imagined it'd be truck-kun that ended my life at twenty.
Just before that fateful impact, I had wrapped up college with a degree in electrical engineering. My life was just getting started. I was lining up job interviews, planning to earn some cash, maybe find someone special and settle down.
But before my life could truly begin, it ended. Tragic, or at least I'd like to think so.
As I lay in the street, consciousness fading, I realized no one was coming to help. Truck-kun, that merciless bastard, just kept driving off—mockingly slow. My world began to darken.
I was upset, of course. But I accepted it. There would be no tomorrow. No more seeing my brothers. No more playing with my dog. No more hugs from my mother.
Everything I loved—gone. Out of reach.
"I haven't seen my father in a month... I wish I'd spent more time with him," was the last thought that crossed my mind before everything went black.
But then... I was reborn.My world didn't end as I expected. One moment, I took my last breath—and the next, my first.
Everything was a blur. Cold air filled my lungs, and distant sounds—footsteps, chatter—filtered through to my ears.
I drifted in and out of consciousness. No idea where I was. I'd been an above-average student, nothing special. Just another city kid with divorced parents, taking the bus to college. It was 2020. I wasn't some chosen one.
So why was I reincarnated?
I didn't wish for this. I didn't deserve this. But here I was.
As my senses sharpened, I began to learn where I had ended up.I caught sight of a woman—my mother—with pale, blank eyes. People murmured "Hyuga-sama" as she passed. Hyuga? I was most likely one of them.
'Hopefully not a branch member,' I thought, before sleep took me again.
My first birthday brought some much-needed clarity.
First: I wasn't part of the branch family. I was the grandson of a recently deceased elder, and my mother—his only daughter—had never been sealed. Hopefully, I'd escape that fate too.
Second: I probably wasn't a full-blooded Hyuga. I'd overheard gossip among the branch members: my mother had been captured by Hidden Mist shinobi during a mission, the only survivor to return after two weeks of "torture and interrogation."
Apparently, my stark white hair was a hot topic among the clan. Plenty speculated that something... else happened during her captivity. She, however, claimed my father had been a Konoha-nin, and kept the truth to herself.
Third: I learned my name—Shiro Hyuga. Fitting, in a bleak kind of way.
My relationship with my mother? Minimal. She rarely visited. When she did, she just stared—never picking me up, never changing my diapers. Those duties fell to silent, dutiful branch members who offered no conversation, leaving me starved for attention and vocabulary.
My birthday was a quiet affair. Typical for the Hyuga. My mother held me for the first time in months, parading me around to meet the elders and clan head. I didn't recognize any of them—no Hiashi, no Hizashi. Probably somewhere between the First and Third Shinobi Wars.
As I was carried around, I let my thoughts wander. What did the future hold? What could I accomplish in this new life?
Time passed.
At two, I talked constantly, trying to soak up vocabulary from anyone nearby—probably annoying the branch caretakers. I developed basic motor skills and started experimenting with my chakra, hoping to awaken my bloodlines early.
I pushed chakra to my eyes, my bones, circulated it throughout my body, trying to improve control. No major success, but I kept at it.
At three, I had a rough conclusion: no Shikotsumyaku. Despite flooding my bones with chakra daily, nothing happened.However, I did have something else: a healing factor.
I broke my arm while climbing the walls of my room. I heard the snap—but minutes later, it was perfectly fine. When the branch members checked, they found nothing. I was dismissed as a dramatic toddler.
I had better luck with the Byakugan. I could activate it, though the range was pitiful—barely a meter. Honestly, it made my vision worse. But it let me see my own chakra network from the neck down, which was a huge help in refining control.
At four, my formal training began: light exercise, katas, and chakra drills with other Hyuga children.I stuck out like a sore thumb. A sea of black hair... and then me, with my mop of straight white.
The other kids mostly avoided me. I didn't blame them. But it still stung.
Despite that, I excelled.
While my taijutsu was still basic, my chakra control, stamina, and strength stood out. Within weeks, I was labeled a prodigy and pulled from the group to train one-on-one with a branch instructor named Haruto.
Not much changed socially. My mother offered a rare "Good work, you're doing the clan proud," and a pat on the head. That was it. She remained cold and distant.
I didn't blame her. I was a reminder of something she probably wanted to forget.
Under Haruto's harsh training, I was pushed to my limits daily—then patched up by my healing factor, only to go again. He taught me tenketsu, organ placement, how to strike to maximize internal damage. Then told me to keep training.I asked—repeatedly—to learn medical ninjutsu.
He refused—repeatedly.
"Unbecoming of a main branch member," he eventually said, after I proved my chakra control by water-walking.
Ugh.
Still, I didn't give up. I said I wanted to heal myself so I could train harder and bring more honor to the clan. Still nothing.Eventually, I shelved that goal—temporarily. I trusted my healing factor to get me through until the Academy. I'd return to medical jutsu later.
In the evenings, I experimented with my Byakugan.I followed the flow of chakra through my brain and eyes, adjusting the intensity in tiny increments. Cautiously. Praying I wouldn't injure myself.
I discovered I could narrow my field of vision—from 360 degrees down to about 170. With that, my range dramatically improved. I could still see chakra, still see through walls. It was a major upgrade.
Energized by the success, I kept pushing.
Soon, I learned to slow my perception of time—like a discount Sharingan. I was ecstatic. I couldn't stop smiling for days.
Naturally, I got cocky.I started experimenting with enhancing other areas of my brain using chakra—not just the Byakugan's automatic paths.
That stunt got me hospitalized.
I suffered a mild stroke. I lied and said I overloaded my eyes while awakening the Byakugan. The doctors bought it, barely. My mother gave a noncommittal "hmm."
On the bright side, my healing factor was officially noted.
I was released with strict orders not to train unsupervised. On the way out, I took a moment to count the faces on the Hokage Monument—trying to gauge the timeline.Back home, training resumed—harder than ever. Physical drills, spars, medical lectures, Byakugan techniques. It cut into my free time, but I didn't mind. I had no one to spend it with anyway.
And I'd decided to leave my brain alone for now—at least until I was confident that my healing factor or future medical knowledge could fix any damage.
So I trained. And experimented. And improved.My Byakugan expanded. My perception sharpened. I stopped pushing into unknown territory—but I didn't stop learning.
I was a prodigy. A lone one, but a prodigy nonetheless. And I had plans.
Big ones.
I had Hyuga blood. Kaguya blood. A healing factor. The chance at unlocking both the Tenseigan and Shikotsumyaku without stealing bodies or grafting Hashirama cells.
I had potential—and I wasn't going to waste a second of it.
Strength was my first goal.Immortality… perhaps my last.
I had ambition, and now I had the tools.
Let's see what this new life in the Naruto-verse has in store.