After waking up, Kaida realized it was already evening. The clock on the wall showed 6:30 p.m., and a pang of hunger hit him hard as his stomach growled audibly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything all day.
'I haven't eaten since this morning. No wonder I'm starving. I'd better get something to eat... Also I need to remember to act like a kid—a five-year-old one at that, but how the hell am I going to do that? Let's just follow how real Kaida acted in the memories. I just hope no one notices anything strange about me; otherwise, there is no shortage of crazy scientists in this world,' he thought, steeling himself as he got out of bed.
Kaida approached the door, pausing when he heard muffled voices outside. Just as his hand reached for the doorknob, the door creaked open, and the same old man who had visited him earlier stepped in.
Kaida immediately recognized him from the recent memories as the caretaker of the orphanage and his legal guardian—a kind-hearted man who, despite his busy responsibilities, often spent some time with children, playing with them and helping them with different things, especially toward Kaida. However, this extra attention sometimes drew the ire of the older kids—seven or eight years old, older but still kids—leading to bullying and confrontations.
"Kaida, why are you standing here? Oh! Are you feeling better now? Does your head still hurt? Do you remember who I am?" the caretaker asked in a flurry of questions, his concern evident.
Kaida offered a small smile, replying, "Yes, uncle, I'm all right. My headache is gone, and I remember you perfectly." Just as he finished speaking, his stomach growled loudly, betraying his hunger.
The old man chuckled. "I see your appetite's back. Come on, let's get you something to eat."
They headed to the dining hall, where Kaida eagerly devoured his meal. The simple food tasted like a feast to his famished body. After finishing, the caretaker asked, "So how is your head, is it still hurting?"
"No uncle, I am fine now, though it still hurts a little, it is much better than before," Kaida replied.
"Then, are you ready to head back to your room now?"
Kaida hesitated, weighing his options. 'Even though I'm not the same Kaida who let some jealous kids bully him—since I could easily deal with them now—but if I stay in that room, I'll have no privacy at all, and I will also have to act as a 5-year-old all the time, not to mention I can't waste my time playing with some children when my life will be in danger in a decade or so, so to train or make plans for the future, I need a space of my own,' Kaida thought, though he couldn't tell this to the caretaker, could he? So,
"Uncle," Kaida began, his voice tinged with hesitation, "I don't want to go back to that room. The other kids... they'll bully me again. They always say mean things about my parents. Can I... can I live in some other place, please?" He looked up at the old man with pleading eyes, hoping to sway his decision.
The caretaker's expression softened, but he hesitated. "I understand how you feel, Kaida, but there aren't any empty rooms in the orphanage. This building is already packed to capacity."
Kaida had expected this response. He knew the orphanage was overcrowded, with every available room occupied. But he had already an alternative in mind.
"Uncle, can't I stay in the basement? Nobody uses it," Kaida suggested, his tone hopeful.
The old man frowned. "The basement? Kaida, that's just a storage area. It's not a proper living space. What if something happens to you while you're down there all alone?"
Kaida pressed on, determined. "I'll call for help if anything happens. I can shout really loud, you know... so please, uncle, let me stay there. I'll be fine, I promise." He put on his best "puppy dog" expression, shamelessly tugging at the old man's heartstrings.
The caretaker sighed, mulling over the request. "All right," he relented after a moment. "But only if you promise to call me immediately if there's any trouble."
Kaida's face lit up with genuine happiness. "Thank you, uncle! I promise!"
The caretaker led Kaida to the basement, a dimly lit space filled with old furniture and forgotten items. For a moment, Kaida's enthusiasm wavered as he took in the cluttered room. But then the caretaker opened a side door, revealing a small, cozy room hidden away.
Kaida's eyes widened in surprise. "Uncle, why is there such a nice room down here? Why isn't anyone using it?"
The old man smiled. "This is an emergency shelter, built in case the village ever comes under attack. Every building in Konoha has one. Since it's rarely needed and in such a difficult location, I didn't assign it to any children, it's been sitting empty. So, do you like it?"
Kaida nodded eagerly, feeling like his wish came true. "Yes! It's perfect. Can I really stay here?"
"Of course. Why do you think I showed it to you?" the caretaker replied with a chuckle.
Overwhelmed with gratitude, Kaida hugged the old man tightly. "Thank you so much, uncle."
As Kaida looked around his new room, a sense of determination took root in his heart. This room wasn't just a place to sleep—it was a sanctuary, a private space where he could focus on growing stronger. The thought brought a small smile to his lips.
'In my previous life, I was confined to a hospital bed, unable to live freely. Now, I've been given a second chance, and I'm not wasting it. This world is dangerous, but it's also filled with opportunities. If I want to survive and thrive, I need power. Because with only power will I be really free to live this life with freedom.'
His thoughts turned to his childhood dreams of flying, running faster than cars, and wielding incredible powers—completely opposite of his scenario where he could barely walk for a few minutes without a world of pain because of his medical condition. But in this world of ninjas, those dreams were within reach—if he worked hard enough. Kaida clenched his fists, his resolve solidifying.
"Kaida," the caretaker's voice interrupted his thoughts. "I want to ask you something."
Kaida turned, curious about what the old man had to say.