Hiro woke with a start, his heart racing wildly as sweat dripped from his forehead.
The aftereffects of a vivid and frightening nightmare clung to him, leaving him pale and exhausted. Even though he was awake, the fear lingered on.
His breathing came in uneven bursts, as if he had been running for miles. The ceiling above him felt strangely distant, almost unfamiliar, as though he had just returned from a place he didn't belong.
"Why can't I shake this nightmare?" he whispered, frustration and confusion swirling in his mind.
Fragments of rain, headlights, and desperate shouting flickered behind his eyes. No matter how many times he reminded himself that it was in the past, his body reacted as if it had just happened.
He swung his legs off the bed and felt the cool wooden floor beneath his feet. The chill helped anchor him to the present, pushing the shadows of the dream away.
He remained seated there for a moment, staring at his small room—the plain walls, the neatly folded blanket, the faint light slipping through the curtains.
This was reality now.
This small apartment.
This quiet life.
After splashing cold water on his face, Hiro headed to the small kitchen in his humble home. He made himself a simple breakfast—just two slices of buttered bread and a few tomato slices.
The routine felt basic, yet comforting; in a world rife with uncertainty, these small habits provided a sense of stability.
He chewed slowly, savoring the warmth of the toast.
It wasn't much, but it was his.
No betrayal. No shouting. No flashing headlights. Just quiet.
Once he was done eating, he stepped outside. The morning sun welcomed him, its warm golden rays enveloping his skin.
A refreshing burst of energy coursed through him, easing away the heaviness that had settled in.
The scent of dew and fresh earth filled the air. Somewhere nearby, a vendor called out cheerfully, advertising vegetables. The world felt painfully normal.
The streets buzzed with life. Children raced joyfully along the paths, their laughter ringing out like music.
Birds chirped cheerfully from the trees, and shopkeepers busily prepared for the day. The atmosphere felt serene—almost deceptively so.
Hiro's eyes lingered on the villagers. They smiled, bargained, complained about prices. None of them knew about the storms that would come.
None of them knew about Akatsuki, about invasions, about destruction waiting in the shadows of the future.
"At least this place feels far more inviting than the chaotic city I left behind," Hiro thought. "On the surface, it's undeniably better."
On the surface… yes.
With steady steps, he made his way toward the Ninja Academy. As he got closer, he noticed groups of children and their parents excitedly gathering, anticipation evident on every face.
Some parents knelt down to adjust their children's headbands. Others offered last-minute encouragement. Hiro watched quietly, hands tucked into his pockets.
There was no one walking beside him.
Entering the classroom, Hiro was met with lively chatter and bursts of laughter. He took a seat in the corner, preferring to observe rather than join in.
The corner had become his safe place—far enough to avoid attention, close enough to watch everything unfold.
His gaze drifted to Ino and Sakura, who were vying for Sasuke's attention.
Sasuke remained calm, his expression cool and indifferent, barely acknowledging the girls. His aloofness seemed only to fuel their interest.
Hiro wondered briefly what it felt like to be born talented.
To have the world's expectations rest on your shoulders instead of its indifference.
Hiro watched silently. After the recurring nightmare he had experienced, he found himself indifferent to trivial matters like romance or admiration.
Those things belonged to people who believed they had a future worth dreaming about.
Just then, Iruka-sensei entered the room, instantly commanding silence.
The shift was immediate—like someone had flipped a switch.
"Today, we'll conduct a practical test on the Clone Jutsu," he announced firmly.
A hush fell over the classroom as students prepared themselves mentally.
For some, it was excitement.
For others, pressure.
For Hiro, it was inevitability.
One by one, they stepped forward.
Ino executed her technique flawlessly, her clone nearly indistinguishable from her. Sakura followed, demonstrating impressive chakra control.
Kiba, Shikamaru, Choji, and Shino also performed well, showcasing their natural abilities.
The ease with which they molded chakra made it look simple—almost effortless.
When Sasuke's name was called, cheers erupted from the girls, while the boys glared at him with barely concealed envy.
Sasuke stepped forward calmly, forming the hand seals with ease.
With a puff of smoke, three perfect clones appeared beside him, mirroring his every move.
The classroom buzzed with admiration.
"Excellent work, Sasuke," Iruka commended genuinely.
"Sasuke-kun, you're amazing!" Ino and Sakura chimed in, their admiration clear.
Sasuke returned to his seat, unfazed.
But Naruto could no longer hold back. "My Clone Jutsu is stronger than yours, Sasuke!" he shouted, determination burning in his eyes.
Sasuke merely shot him a look of quiet disdain.
Fueled by emotion, Naruto rushed forward—but tripped awkwardly before making it to the center. Laughter erupted around the room.
Hiro shook his head inwardly. This kind of attention-seeking would only deepen Naruto's embarrassment.
Naruto gritted his teeth and formed the hand seal. "Clone Jutsu!"
Smoke billowed, but when it cleared, it revealed a weak and poorly formed clone barely holding its shape.
The laughter grew louder.
"You'll never measure up to Sasuke!"
"Dead last," Sasuke muttered coldly.
Naruto felt his cheeks flush as he sank back into his seat, his pride completely shattered.
Hiro squinted thoughtfully. "The chakra from the Nine-Tailed Fox must be messing with his control," he thought. "If that wasn't an issue, he might even outshine some Jonin."
Talent distorted by fate.
Then, Iruka called Hiro's name. "Hiro." All eyes in the classroom turned towards him, including those of Ino, Sakura, Hinata, and even Naruto.
For a brief second, the room felt suffocating.
Hiro got up and made his way to the front, fully aware of how much more understated he was compared to his more flamboyant classmates.
Under the scrutinizing gaze of his peers, he awkwardly formed the hand seal for the Clone Jutsu, his movements appearing clumsy.
A light ripple of laughter echoed through the room.
His fingers felt stiff.
Not from lack of knowledge—but from the weight of expectation he already knew he would fail.
He finished the seal. "Clone Jutsu." A thin plume of smoke emerged, revealing a delicate, ghostly copy of himself that flickered weakly before starting to fade.
Iruka squinted, a hint of irritation crossing his face. "What in the world…?" he murmured. "His talent might actually be worse than Naruto's."
The clone collapsed into smoke moments later.
Shaking his head, Iruka addressed him sternly. "Hiro, you need to practice more if you want to have any hope of passing the graduation exam.
At this rate, your skills are below Naruto's." The weight of his words hung in the air.
Below Naruto.
In the back, several students began to whisper and snicker openly. The laughter stung, but Hiro noticed that Iruka seemed oblivious to the mockery spreading through the room.
Or perhaps he simply chose not to notice.
Inwardly, Hiro recalled how Iruka had always shown favoritism towards Naruto and the other civilians while holding the clan members in high regard.
In the original story, Iruka had once harbored such animosity towards Naruto that he nearly attacked him with a kunai, only stopping when he saw Naruto's innocent face.
His attitude only changed after the Third Hokage had influenced him to care for Naruto.
Hiro smirked bitterly. "What a useless teacher." Without a word, he turned and headed back to his seat, ignoring the whispers behind him.
Ino and Sakura were fully absorbed with Sasuke, showing no concern for Hiro's embarrassment.
Yet Naruto suddenly stood up. "Hey! Stop it! He's doing his best!" he shouted in defense.
The room fell briefly silent.
Hiro didn't look back as he exited the classroom.
A mix of frustration and resignation settled over him, prompting a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. "If this is Naruto's world… then I'm really just a disposable character in someone else's story."
The thought stung more than the laughter.
In a world dominated by prodigies, bloodlines, and destiny, who was he?
Just another name in the background. Another face that history wouldn't record.
As he wandered aimlessly under the bright sky, a quiet determination began to blossom in his heart.
Disposable? Perhaps.
But even something deemed disposable could change the game—if played right.
And for the first time since waking from that nightmare, Hiro's eyes held something new.
Not fear.
Not bitterness.
But the faintest spark of resolve.