Naruto : The Return of Senju

I was six years old—five years older than Naruto. Maybe it was the lingering emotions of this body's original owner, or perhaps it was the bond I had begun to form with my grandparents, but I felt deeply attached to Horito and Suzune. They were my anchor in this unfamiliar yet familiar world.

And yet, the weight of knowing the future was suffocating.

The Akatsuki, the Fourth Great Ninja War, the countless deaths—I could see it all so clearly. A fate already written, a curse that refused to let me rest. But this knowledge was also my advantage. I had time. Time to grow stronger, to prepare, to ensure that I wouldn't be powerless when the storm arrived.

I let out a slow sigh, staring at the ceiling in the dim light of my room. Even during these quiet days, peace felt like an illusion. The weight of the future never left me. Every night, I lay awake, staring into the dark, my thoughts consumed by war, betrayal, and the destruction looming over the village.

I had to be strong. I had to be prepared. I couldn't afford to sit idly by while the world edged closer to chaos. My grandparents deserved better than to be caught in the storm.

And I had no intention of dying in it either.

One evening, after dinner, I stood at the edge of the garden, my gaze locked on the vast night sky. The stars shone brightly, indifferent to the turmoil swirling within me. My grandparents had already retired for the night, leaving the world around me still and silent.

But there was no more time for hesitation. I had thought long and hard about this, and now, it was time to act.

Turning away from the night sky, I walked back into the house, my steps light but deliberate. Grandfather was still awake, seated in the living room, quietly reading with a cup of tea beside him. He didn't look up at first, but the moment I stepped inside, his eyes met mine—as if he had been expecting this moment.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself.

"Grandfather," I said, my voice firm with determination, "I want you to train me to become a shinobi."

Horito set his tea cup down slowly, his gaze unreadable. A long silence stretched between us as he studied me. I held my ground, knowing this was the moment that would change everything.

Finally, he spoke.

"Why do you want to become a shinobi?" His voice was calm, but heavy. "You are still just a child. A shinobi's life is not a simple one. It is full of hardship, danger, and sacrifices."

I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn't tell him everything—the future I had glimpsed, the disasters I feared, the knowledge that burdened me. But I knew that staying idle was not an option.

"I want to protect you," I said quietly. But even as the words left my mouth, a faint doubt lingered in my mind. Did I truly belong in this world? The memories of my old life—briefcases, deadlines, a desk cluttered with legal documents—felt distant, yet still a part of me. Could I really throw away the person I used to be?

No. That part of me was gone.

To survive, I needed to move forward.

Horito studied me carefully. He had expected the boy to take things slow, perhaps enroll in the Academy next year like any other child. But Arashi had always been different—quiet, observant, far more mature than his age should allow. Maybe it was better this way. In the world they lived in, strength was necessary, and maturity was an advantage. The sooner Arashi learned that, the better.

Still, a part of him couldn't ignore the past. Orochimaru had abandoned Arashi, but that didn't mean he wouldn't return. If that day ever came, Arashi needed to be ready. Strong enough to protect himself, to make his own choices.

Grandfather's expression softened, just slightly. But there was something else there too—something deeper. A quiet sadness in his eyes.

Horito sighed, placing a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Very well. I will train you," he said. "But remember, the path you choose is not easy. It will change you."

"I understand," I replied without hesitation.

Horito nodded, watching Arashi closely. Right now, the boy's mind seemed to have blocked out his past, shielding itself from whatever trauma he had endured. Perhaps it was a mercy, a way for him to survive without being weighed down by something too painful for a child to bear. But memories had a way of resurfacing. One day, Arashi might remember what had happened to him. When that day came, he needed to be strong enough not to break under the weight of it. Until then, there was no point in forcing the past upon him. What mattered now was preparing him for the future.

"The training begins tomorrow morning."

The night stretched endlessly before me, my mind restless. Even with my decision made, doubt curled in the corners of my thoughts like a shadow that refused to leave.

Could I truly do this? Was I ready for the consequences of my actions?

The future was delicate, an intricate web of fate spun too tightly. One wrong move, one careless ripple, and everything could change in ways I couldn't predict. The Akatsuki's rise, the Fourth Great Ninja War, Kaguya's return—it was all so far away, yet close enough that the mere thought of it left me breathless. This world would not remain peaceful for long.

But I had time. I had an advantage no one else had.

My knowledge of the future wasn't just a burden—it was my greatest weapon. If I wielded it carefully, I could be ready when the storm arrived. I had to be. I had seen what happened to those who weren't strong enough. I had seen what happened to those who weren't prepared.

I refused to be powerless.

I turned onto my side, listening to the steady silence of the house. Grandfather and Grandmother were already asleep, unaware of the turmoil twisting inside me. They were my anchor in this world, my only true family. No matter what happened, I would not let them be caught in the destruction to come. Even if it meant walking a path I had once never imagined for myself—even if it meant changing things I had no right to change—I would protect them.

I exhaled slowly, willing the tension in my chest to ease. The first step was simple. I had to become strong. Strong enough to stand on my own, strong enough that when the time came, I wouldn't be another casualty in a war that would shape the world.

It wouldn't be easy.

Even with my memories, I was still just a child in a world that did not wait for children to grow. I would have to train relentlessly, push myself harder than any academy student, and master techniques that others wouldn't learn until years later. My body was still young, but I could build my foundation now. Chakra control, physical conditioning, stamina—everything had to start immediately. And if I wanted to set myself apart, I would need to study something unconventional. Fuinjutsu, perhaps. It was an overlooked art, yet one of the most powerful in the right hands.

I clenched my fists under the blanket, my heart pounding as the weight of it all settled into place.

I could do this. No—I would do this. I had no other choice. The world wasn't kind to those who hesitated.

Tomorrow would be the beginning.