An old man told me,
And I'll remember that phrase forever:
"Eyes that have never cried
Cannot be beautiful.
A soul that has never suffered
Cannot be beautiful,
And a person is beautiful only
When they have a heart, not a piece of metal!"
June 16, 1048
Taking my first breath in the new world, I smelled aromatic resin, wet moss, and wood rot. So familiar. The scent of forests where mighty trees soar upward, full of damp stumps with boletuses, wet cones, beautiful strawberry and blueberry bushes.
High above, birds sang cheerfully, and with them, I heard the distant sound of a fast stream.
The smell of my childhood. I lived my whole life in a settlement surrounded by impenetrable forest.
Childhood? Life? Right...
Realizing what I remembered wasn't pre-death hallucinations or fancy, I opened my eyes and immediately shut them against the bright light.
I wanted to see the sun so badly. And here it is. I did it, didn't give up, didn't perish. This is happiness.
I lift my heavy eyelids, squinting into the crowns of tall trees swaying slightly in the wind, occasionally stilling. They resembled sequoias — trees known to grow up to a hundred meters tall. I'd never seen them but read about them often.
Licking my dry lips and feeling my throat parched, I decided to do something to figure out where — and who — I was.
I try to move but feel pain in my stomach. Cautiously touching it, I sense something wet and warm. Blood. I hiss and wince in pain. My whole body aches, my head splits, my eyes burn as if beaten, with purple bruises already.
"Wounded in the middle of a deep forest, unknown country, no memories, no language. Nice one, Rikudo, thanks for the help," I thought.
I decided to assess the damage and give first aid, but suddenly all memories hit at once. The world darkened, and I collapsed under the load.
When I managed to open my swollen eyelids again, it was a bit easier. My head still hurt as if my skull had shrunk, squeezing my brain. Everything hurt: temples, nape, forehead, even eyes.
On shaking legs, I tried to stand and saw I was standing in blood.
My vision doubled, but in the bloody puddle, I distinguished a limb. Squinting, I realized it was a severed woman's arm. Nothing stirred in my chest, like a void, and scanning around, I found more human corpses. About ten lay dead, flies and insects buzzing over them.
"Sage... why didn't I wake in a body like normal transmigrators, but in some meat grinder?" flashed through my mind, and I scanned the clearing for this body's parents — or what remained.
Looking closer, I spotted them a few meters away, throats slit.
For some reason, I didn't remember the cause of death for these people or this body. There was a hole in my memory. But I distinctly felt echoes of pain and love in my soul. As if love for them transferred with the memories. But it was just memory — now I felt no emotions.
I decided to tend the wound first, then figure out what happened and where I was.
From the scene, we were attacked. By whom — I don't remember: bandits or shinobi. Why — unclear; our caravan was heading to the Land of Rice Fields, carrying nothing valuable...
Then why kill everyone, including this body?
If I had emotions, I'd probably panic: alone in the forest, wounded, who-knows-where, who-knows-when, unknown world, surrounded by mangled dead. Not a movie — reality. Can't turn it off if I don't like it — have to deal.
Good thing I have no emotions now — I know myself, I'd worry. Now I'm utterly alone. No one, nothing: no home, parents, documents, knowledge, power. I need to get to Konoha, but don't even know what country I'm in.
Memory doesn't help — it's fuzzy; nothing more known, and no one tells a five-year-old. I didn't know our country, barely remembered the past — home only in vague fragments. I just know my name, age, and thank god, the language.
Removing my cloak, I started bandaging the wound, hissing in pain. A minute later, my legs gave out, and I knelt. Thirsty, dizzy, too hot. I felt I'd faint again soon. But suddenly, a man appeared before me out of nowhere. At first, I didn't grasp what happened, then remembered: Naruto world.
The shinobi wore a Konoha forehead protector and a green shinobi vest. He was huge, but I realized later it was me who was small. Soon others arrived. No idea what they were doing here. Struggling to stand, clutching my stomach wound, I shuffled unsteadily to my parents. I'm five, after all — it'd be weird if I just stood and left, ignoring my dead mom and dad's bodies.
The body was almost uncontrollable; it took effort to reach them just meters away. I tried right foot, but left moved. Used to adult strides, but legs wouldn't reach.
Finally reaching them, I shook them alternately, pretending to revive. No doctor needed to see they were dead, but would a child know?
"Mother... Father..." I murmured hoarsely in their language.
The shinobi couldn't take it and pulled me away with phrases I couldn't parse — my brain couldn't translate fast enough. But suddenly, sharp pain from the stab wound returned, and I blacked out again.
***
I woke in the hospital. Feeling better, though stomach still ached. Staring at the white ceiling, inhaling medicine smells, one phrase looped: "Did this really happen to me? Not a dream?"
Rikudo said Naruto and Sasuke die; then the world falls into Eternal Tsukuyomi, I figured. So someone kills Naruto and Sasuke — if I'm as strong as the protagonists, I can't save them. Logical conclusion: I must become stronger than them. Otherwise, useless.
"Do I regret my choice at all?" flashed in my head, and I reflected. Choice made, no way back.
No emotions now, but when dormant feelings return, I might regret... or rejoice.
Apathy doesn't mean lying in bed staring at the ceiling. Raised on duty since childhood. Always told: doesn't matter what I want, there's "must," above all. Helped approach all work responsibly, even hated tasks.
Only above "Duty" — my life principles.
"If I become a shinobi, will I have to kill?" I thought. It was like I'd asked a rhetorical question, but I didn't want to answer it. I'd been raised by religious people, and even though I consider myself an atheist, I'd still inevitably absorbed the idea that human life is priceless. That's why any killing is unacceptable. The only thing above the principle of the pricelessness of human life is loved ones. For me, the lives of those close to me have always been worth more than the lives of everyone else.
Turning my head to the right, I looked out the open window, through which a bright ray of sun poured in. Far beyond the trees and houses, I saw a huge rock carved with four stone faces. They were so massive that I couldn't even imagine how much time it had taken to create them.
I wonder if I just got lucky to end up near Konoha, or if this is the work of the Sage of Six Paths?
Scanning the typical hospital room, I noticed things stacked on the bedside table—they seemed to be mine. There were several beds in the room, separated by narrow screens; I was lying by the first one from the window. After walking around and looking around once more, I spotted a mirror and decided to check myself out, since my memory of what I looked like had been erased.
But I didn't get a chance, because a doctor suddenly entered the room. I lay back down in bed, and a light-haired woman about thirty-five, dressed in a beige suit, approached me.
"Hello, my name is Yoshi. How are you feeling?" she asked, looking at me very intently, while I tried to remember how to translate it. Realizing she was asking about my condition, I struggled to find the words and replied:
"Fine, Yoshi-san, where are my mom and dad?" I drawled, making a failed attempt to show emotion. She wrote something down and lifted her deep gray eyes to me.
"I don't have that information; they're not in the hospital."
"And where might they be?" I pretended to worry. No doubt, a child should always worry about where their parents are if they've been gone a long time.
"In two days, on June 18th, you'll be discharged. An escort will come for you and take you to the residence. You'll find out everything there."
"Got it," I squeezed out, staring at the white ceiling.
"Tell me, do you remember what happened? Where you were coming from and going to?"
"To the Land of Rice Fields, but I don't know from where. What happened... I don't remember..."
"Thank you..." she said gratefully. "Partial psychogenic amnesia," the medical ninja whispered to herself, writing something on a sheet. "Get well," she said, approaching me and placing a hand on my head, and I immediately fell asleep.
Several days later
June 18, 1048
After finishing the breakfast brought that morning, I decided to walk around the room. Today they were supposed to take me to the residence, but my gait was still shaky, like I'd gotten drunk. Who knew controlling a body that wasn't mine would be so hard? At least I felt better overall, and nothing bothered me anymore. The wound had left only an ugly scar. This once again confirmed how advanced medicine was in this world.
Approaching the mirror, I saw a little girl with chubby cheeks and eyes the color of spring grass on a sunny day. They were red from numerous burst blood vessels.
I wonder why... It shouldn't be like that...
Not dwelling on my eyes, I continued examining myself: I still wasn't used to the new appearance. My hair wasn't long, reaching my shoulders, and its color gave the impression it'd been doused in pomegranate juice. My hands, as if disbelieving my eyes, reached out to touch those airy strands. They felt fluffy, the kind of hair you want to stroke extra.
I vaguely remembered what my parents looked like. Hair and eye color seemed to come from mom, eye and face shape from dad. Mom was apparently an Uzumaki, and dad... he didn't seem to belong to any clan, but his hair and eye color reminded me of Uchiha. Either way, I got lucky with my looks. In my previous life, I had chestnut hair and sky-blue eyes. Pretty too, but not like now.
They'd told me an escort would come in two days and take me to the residence, but didn't specify the time. Daytime or evening?
Of course, I wasn't rushing to the residence, but I still needed to know who the village head was now. Hiruzen or Minato? Or maybe someone else? And depending on when I arrived. Was I the same age as the main characters, younger, or older?
My musings were interrupted by an unfamiliar shinobi entering the room.
"Follow me," he said in a monotone voice and left. I made the bed and, without delay, left the room. After all, I had nothing to pack, no belongings.
They took me to the residence, and as we walked, I looked around eagerly. It was summer outside, full of greenery and fauna. Plenty of wooden and stone houses no taller than five stories. They looked fairly new, probably recently built... or more precisely, rebuilt, judging by the foundations. Most likely destroyed during the Nine-Tails attack. Just a guess.
Ordinary men wore light pants and colorful cotton shirts; some had unfamiliar clothing whose names I didn't know. Girls wore kimono, yukata, and other pretty things whose names I also didn't know, but their shoes were uniform—open-toed sandals, like mine now. Made of some strange but perfect material: great cushioning, no deformation under load, soft, light, and durable. They'd be in fashion for another two hundred years.
Ahead loomed the huge rock carved with four massive faces. Looking closer, I recognized the familiar ones—Hashirama, Tobirama, Hiruzen, and Minato. Good, familiar people. So if Minato's face was already carved, Naruto was either born or about to be.
Gazing at the rock, probably sixty meters tall and surely impressive to tourists, I recalled my old dream—to see mountains. In my past life, I dreamed of seeing the world: rocks, seas, oceans.
A sound from the side distracted me, and I saw a dozen people jumping from one house to another. They covered nearly twenty meters per leap and ran across roofs like it was nothing.
I looked around, and a faint feeling of forgotten nostalgia washed over my soul and vanished. A persistent sense settled in my mind that I'd been here before. Maybe I'd rewatched Naruto too much? Though I wasn't a huge fan of that anime.
If only Romu, my best friend who was obsessed with "Naruto," were here—he'd die of joy. He was such a passionate fan that his whole room was plastered with posters, corners filled with character figurines and decor. I watched "Naruto" once, but he talked about it nonstop, so I felt like I'd know the plot by heart soon.
Why did Rikudo choose me? There are plenty of bigger fans out there. They'd agree without hesitation.
Probably for the best I have no emotions. I'd be homesick for my friends and family right now. We had so many plans together; I loved them so much, and they me. But what's the point now? I died there and will never return. I can only wish them long, happy lives.
I need to love what's here: Konoha, new life, new friends. Even if everything around is utterly indifferent right now. But I force myself—with effort and will—to fake emotions or at least imagine them. Every time I look at something, I diligently recall my lost moral values and compare them to the situation.
I want to regain my emotions and feelings soon. Without them, life is empty.
When we reached the big red building, they took me to an unfamiliar man in typical shinobi garb. With a serious face, he circled me and made several hand signs. All my strength instantly drained, and the ninja unrolled a scroll. Red symbols appeared on it, then turned black.
He stared at the scroll for seconds like he'd seen a ghost, blinked a couple times, and lifted an extremely surprised gaze to me. Probably checked my chakra reserves. Strange, I feel like a normal person, no superpowers.
"Ahem, when you give this to Lord Hokage, say the data needs rechecking," he handed the scroll to the escort.
"Something wrong?" the man asked.
"Too much chakra for a clanless kid," he explained in surprise. "Even for clan kids, it's a lot. Must be an error."
"Wow, got it, I'll pass it on."
As we climbed the stairs to the upper floors, I mentally thanked Rikudo for hearing my request—now I truly had a huge Uzumaki chakra reserve. With such starting "bonuses," I could really become a strong shinobi. Now I just needed to figure out how to sense that chakra.
A knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts, and I realized we'd reached the Hokage while I was lost in thought. A calm male voice from inside permitted entry, and we crossed the threshold.
The office was bright and spacious. In the center stood a huge wooden desk with a poster bearing Konoha's symbol. Behind it sat the Fourth Hokage—Minato Namikaze.
"Rikudo said there'd be differences... Either that's it, or I arrived before Naruto's birth."
Minato was genuinely handsome: young blond with bottomless blue eyes. He wore a blue sweater and white cloak. His piercing gaze drew you in. But there was no malice in his eyes, just seriousness and something I couldn't grasp.
I could even say he was far handsomer here than in the anime. Strange somehow... This was the first person who hadn't existed for me before, but now he does... And he's alive.
"Good day, Hokage-sama," the shinobi said respectfully and handed over the scroll. "They also asked me to say the data should be rechecked—too much chakra for a clanless kid."
"Good, you're free for now; I'll call soon," he nodded to the shinobi, who left. Minato opened the scroll, looked at it for seconds, smiled slightly, and turned his gaze to me.
"H-hello," I stammered "frightenedly," trying to act like a child. There was something incomprehensible in his studying gaze, like he was remembering someone...
"Maybe he's just thinking of Kushina? We have the same hair color."
"Well then..." he drawled mysteriously, "Hello... Ariza. You're probably wondering what happened? Bandits attacked your caravan; everyone died except you," the Kage said quickly.
He sure dove straight into the canyon... I thought they'd tell kids something special, gently. Or losing parents young is everyday here?
I acted how a child who lost their parents should: shocked, mixed with pain and fear. I didn't try crying—probably couldn't.
"Ariza, since you're alone now, you'll go to the orphanage," he circled the desk and stood before me, forcing me to crane my neck—he was tall, I small. "You have a good chakra reserve, so I want to offer you become a ninja and serve the Land of Fire."
"O-okay," I nodded. "But can I ask something?"
"Hm," he looked at me and smiled slightly, "go ahead."
"I heard from my parents there are shinobi who guard borders, and others who travel the world on cool missions!" I tried to show enthusiasm and hint I had no desire to guard borders.
"You mean you want to join Seiki Butai later?" he asked, and seeing I didn't get the last phrase, added: "In short, shinobi who do missions."
"Yes!" I nodded eagerly.
"Well then, excellent, Ariza. My son will enter the same class as you," he smiled slightly, ruffled my hair a bit, and sat back at the desk.
"So Minato's just alive in this world. All this time I thought I'd be five years older than the main characters, but turns out I'm their peer."
"At seven, you'll get an apartment in the dorms and go to the Ninja Academy. You'll learn the rest from your escort. Get your things and documents from him."
"Thank you very much, Hokage-sama," I was about to leave, but a genius idea hit, so I stopped at the door, turned, and went back to Minato. "Sorry to interrupt, Hokage-sama. I just want to prepare for the Academy. I'm sure there's an entrance exam, and I want to be ready. Will they train at the orphanage?"
"Mmm... no, no training there," he said calmly, setting aside papers he'd been writing on. "But I'll figure something out, okay?" he replied softly, and I saw no reproach in his gaze, like we were friends. Though I knew I was just an ordinary five-year-old girl, no clan by surname, knew nothing, not from Konoha, yet bold enough to take the Great Lord Hokage's time.
Why bring me to him at all if anyone else could say it? I don't stand out from other kids now. And shouldn't the village leader deal with kids?
Maybe because I'm Uzumaki? They're in demand, and he wanted to check personally?
Another shinobi entered and led me away. We went to the secretary: got my things and documents there. Like a birth certificate or passport: name, surname, birth date, etc. Rest in the archives, probably all other data. Now I'm Ariza Saito. "Saito" from dad, mom's Uzumaki. Though I don't recall "Ariza Saito." Probably the amnesia.
Taking my things, we headed to the orphanage, where I'd stay another year or more.
On arrival, they showed me around and gave me a separate room. Seemed odd, but I didn't know the rules. Entering the small room, I glanced around. One window with white tulle, small made bed with red pillow and white blanket, bright kids' table with coloring books and toys.
Waiting for the escort to leave, I unpacked my things, mostly bought for me. Lots there, even pencils and paper. Most interesting—five books. By covers: shinobi world history, language textbook by pages, dictionary, chakra usage, and by pictures, taijutsu development guide. On top, a note:
"Feel at home in Konoha and good luck with studies. Hokage"—I only recognized the last two kanji, from past life knowledge as "Hokage."
"So, from Minato, but he probably didn't know I can't read yet," flashed in my head.
Most interesting—thick notebook and workbook among the books. How'd Minato know? Maybe assumed I'd note studied material?
Yeah, probably, since I showed interest in learning. But in this notebook, I'd record something more valuable—Naruto anime plot. In my language, since theirs I can't yet. Just hide it, or they'll think I'm an enemy spy.
"Dinner's starting; we're waiting in the dining room," someone said somewhat sternly, opening the door without knocking. Turning, I saw a middle-aged woman—our caregiver, I think.
"Yes, okay, coming now," I replied without hesitation, though unsure where to go.
And so my new life began. One thought about it: no way back, so I want to live without regrets...
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan