In Konoha, inside a small, slightly run-down courtyard, a young mother playfully tugged at her son's clothes.
"Haruto, today is your first day of school. Don't start crying now, alright?"
"Don't worry, Mother, I won't." Haruto Kamiya looked helplessly at the hand gripping his shirt so tightly. When had he ever cried?
Well… Haruto thought for a moment. He had cried once. When he was born—confused, smacked, and startled into tears. As a supposedly "excellent" young man from the 21st century in his previous life, he didn't fully understand the biological details, but he did know babies must cry at birth. If they didn't, something was wrong.
So from birth until now, Haruto had cried exactly once. And even then, it wasn't his fault; no one can negotiate with basic biology. Even if he had wanted to hold it in, the medical staff wouldn't have allowed it.
Kamiya Nina looked at her son with a trace of reluctance. She had raised him alone; those early years had been hard. Fortunately, Haruto had always been independent, even helping with small chores so she didn't have to worry as much.
But there was one thing she felt regretful about. Other children had youthful innocence—her son had none. Nina felt she wasn't quite experiencing motherhood the way she imagined. She wished he would cling to her more at this cute age.
"Come straight home after school," Nina said, her tone tinged with helplessness.
"Alright, Mother. But you should let go now, or I'll be late on the first day."
Eventually, Nina released him. She had originally planned to take a day off to accompany him, but Haruto firmly refused.
Still, Nina wasn't too worried. Haruto had always wandered around the village and never once got lost. He had even explored the academy grounds several times.
Since Haruto was off to school, she should go to work as well. With only the two of them in the household, she had to support the family.
Haruto Kamiya, six years old, was born to a single mother. His father, a chunin, had died on a mission. According to his teammates, Haruto's father had worked relentlessly after learning Nina was pregnant—taking on more missions to earn money for baby formula—and ultimately made a fatal mistake from exhaustion.
Nina herself had once been a genin, but after getting married she voluntarily left the ninja ranks. After Haruto was born, she began searching for work. Thanks to her training, she was skilled compared to ordinary villagers, so finding jobs wasn't too difficult. And with Haruto being "precocious," the toughest days passed quickly. Their life eventually stabilized.
Haruto, of course, was a transmigrator—one who had begun life in this world from the womb. When he realized he had been reborn into the Naruto world, he felt indifferent.
He hadn't started a family in his previous life, so there wasn't much to long for. His only regret was not being able to repay his parents. As for Naruto, he had seen the anime, but with a very surface-level understanding—skipping countless flashbacks out of laziness. Still, watching it was better than not watching at all.
As for a cheat ability… after six years of observation, Haruto reluctantly admitted he didn't have one. The only advantage he possessed was partial knowledge of the plot. That counted as something.
Oh, and his spiritual strength seemed higher than before. He absorbed information far more easily now—not photographic memory, but impressive nonetheless.
Then came his bloodline. Based on his observations, he was completely ordinary. No special constitution. No Uchiha, Uzumaki, or Senju heritage.
This troubled him. He definitely wanted to become a ninja—he hadn't come all this way just to live quietly. If survival were his only goal, he might as well marry into a ramen shop. Maybe not a prestigious clan restaurant—just a regular ramen shop.
At least he wasn't an Uchiha. When he realized he was the same age as Naruto, he felt relieved. If he had been reborn into the Uchiha clan without any cheats, he would probably die early.
Compared to cheat-wielding transmigrators or powerful bloodline holders, his conditions weren't great—but they weren't terrible either. At least no one would covet anything he had.
These six years hadn't been idle. While his body couldn't extract chakra yet or learn ninjutsu, he could begin physical training.
However, worried about damaging his young body, Haruto kept the training light—mainly focusing on his fingers.
Even though handseal-free ninjutsu would appear later, early on, hand seal speed was crucial. That required finger flexibility and dexterity. With determination, Haruto had been training since infancy.
If he continued, he believed he might reach top-tier seal speed—perhaps even the fastest. Currently, he could form nearly three seals per second. True, this was without chakra, making it naturally faster, but it formed the basis of his future capabilities.
Before long, Haruto arrived at his classroom door. He took a deep breath. He had done everything possible in these early years. The academy period ahead would still be about accumulating strength, but he needed to work even harder. As an ordinary person, becoming a strong ninja required both effort and luck. And he had an important goal during this time.
The teacher hadn't arrived yet. Haruto recognized many familiar faces and smiled. He had been placed in the familiar class—the one Iruka taught, the class Naruto Uzumaki was in.
He scanned the room briefly, not searching for anyone specific, and sat at an empty seat.
Without a teacher present, the classroom buzzed with noise. Some children were even crying. Haruto rested his hands beneath the desk and casually formed one hand seal after another.
At that moment, a figure stepped into the room. Short blond hair. Fox-like whisker marks. His eyes swept across the classroom and then brightened.
He had spotted Haruto.