What is rebirth? It's a rather complex process, unique for everyone. Most embark on the path of rebirth and then, at the very first step, collapse 'downward' into the abyss of the Void. This abyss turns souls into tiny grains of sand before they dissolve into the surrounding space.

How do I know this? Who knows... My rebirth was very odd because, instead of taking the path like all other souls, I shot through it like a champagne cork aiming for a brand-new ceiling. Other souls and some omnipotent beings paid me no mind, which was peculiar. At that moment, I didn't care because I felt myself flying through other souls and beings, taking something from them. I wouldn't have wanted some horned monster to chase after me with a desire to impale me on its club or sword. That would have been quite unpleasant.

Flying through bodies, I took something from them. This 'something' settled in my soul, hinting that in the future, it might play a magnificent and grand role if I manage to discover what these things are that I've taken for myself.

With the next flight, piercing through the infinite cosmic space, I began to notice small spheres, sparkling with a multitude of shades, and stars, twinkling with cold light, swirling in a chaotic dance around. These glowing objects created a sensation of a galactic carnival. It dawned on me that these were other worlds, destinations for souls that had managed to navigate the complex and mystical line of rebirth. And my path, like a thread of fate, was heading straight for one such constellation, shining brighter than the others. Realizing that I couldn't avoid it, I began to prepare for rebirth, tuning my inner world for the upcoming changes. I think it could be hard, full of surprises and unpleasantness.

A painful flash consumed my consciousness. The capsule that had been pulling me all along burst from the pressure, releasing waves of unknown energy in all directions. These waves washed over my body and consciousness, removing some dirt of which I had been previously unaware.

After that, on sheer inertia, I plunged into this constellation, which started to grow in size. The growth was so rapid that I didn't even have time to realize anything before I started falling directly onto a strange grey body at the very bottom.

I flailed my arms and legs in an attempt to stop the fall. Nothing supported me nor tried to save me. The fall became faster and faster with each moment until, at one point, I hovered above the body. There was very little space between me and the body. Despite my efforts and desires, I fell into it.

A second later, my consciousness was flooded with a scream of pain. This pain, like some kind of fire, spread through me. It was scalding and burning at the same time. Cold and fire — that's what I felt. My eyes stung from the pain, and I opened them.

Before me, like a mirage in the desert, hung a human, semi-transparent figure that looked like scorched paper, thin and fragile, with edges like charred leaves. Its texture resembled parchment that had been lying in the sun for a long time. Through this paper, as through a dense fog, it was impossible to see anything. The face of this figure was twisted in a painful grimace, where the eyes sparkled with rage, and the mouth was distorted from despair and hatred. This hatred, hot and poisonous, was directed precisely at me, like fiery arrows. But I decided: oh no, you will not hate me.

The semi-transparent figure tried to throw itself at me with wide-open eyes and hands.

"Give it back!" he howled in some strange, otherworldly tone. "Mine! It's mine!"

"It was yours; now it's mine!" I quickly replied, realizing what he was talking about. It seems I had taken over his body.

"Return it!" the boy continued to scream. In his eyes was fear and a reluctance to give up something valuable. I understand him. If our roles were reversed, I would also do everything to get my body back.

"No!" I roared. "This is my body now! Leave! And if you don't leave, I'll devour you."

It was an empty threat, which very quickly ceased to be empty. As soon as we touched, he began trying to bite me, but to no avail. One of the things I borrowed from higher beings turned out to be super-strong skin. His attempts to bite did nothing. The previous owner of the body only broke his teeth.

"No!" he screamed, wiping his mouth, full of blood. "No!"

"Yes! Now it's my turn," I replied to him and quickly, yet forcefully, bit down, savoring the sweet taste of his soul.

"Let go!" he screamed, but I had no intention of doing so, feeling his body twitch. I was unstoppable. I tore pieces of his spiritual body and devoured them, satiating myself.

Losing myself for a moment, I hastened the devouring until I realized that I had completely consumed him. Inside, there was a strange and pleasant feeling of satiety. Closing my eyes, I allowed the weird pulling and sucking sensation to engulf me, then suddenly pulled me further.

"Kha!" I took a deep breath and opened my eyes.

My heart was beating so fast and loud like never before. My mouth was dry as a desert, and I could taste a strange bitterness on my tongue. Getting up and relying on the body's memory, I headed to the kitchen. My memory hadn't returned yet, but I understood perfectly well that if I just closed my eyes for more than a minute, it would overwhelm me like a tsunami.

"Is everything all right?" an elderly voice inquired.

Looking towards the hallway, I saw an old, slightly hunched woman. In her eyes, one could read worry and some apprehension. Besides, there was also love for her son somewhere there. Sorry, miss, but I've stolen your son.

"Yes, mom," I replied to her. "Just a dry throat."

"Good," she nodded and exhaled. "I was getting scared."

"Hah," I chuckled at that. After drinking some cold water, I went back to bed. Falling onto it, I waited for the feeling of absorption to finally approach.

From somewhere deep within, a real wave started to rise, which was to engulf me entirely. Instantly, I was overwhelmed with knowledge and memories. My consciousness floated in these waves, flipping from one end to the other. I could feel how thoughts swirled into water spirals, how the white foam brought up the most amazing memories, starting from a flower and ending with a scent.

From somewhere deep within, a real wave started to rise, which was to engulf me entirely. Instantly, I was overwhelmed with knowledge and memories. My consciousness floated in these waves, flipping from one end to the other. I could feel how thoughts swirled into water spirals, how the white foam brought up the most amazing memories, starting from a flower and ending with a scent.

As the sea began to calm a bit, I started to grasp all the memories of the body's previous owner. I can't say it was a simple or ordinary matter. Not at all. But it's true that I had to put in some effort. Some memories tried to slip away, but my will held them together, not letting them go anywhere.

Along with the memories, new sensations of the body appeared, as well as an understanding of where exactly I had ended up... In which world. Words like "chakra," "Hokage," "shinobi," "biju," "Uchiha" evoked a quick understanding of the world I found myself in. The world of Naruto Uzumaki... a wonderful world, if you know everything about it, which definitely was not my case.

I had heard of this work only in passing but never had the time to watch or even read it. I needed to earn money. Along with all the knowledge from before my death and from the new one, many words gained a completely new context and explanation.

So, being a student at the Shinobi Academy, I had often heard about a little demon studying a year younger than me. About a child who plots against not only the Academy but also everyone around him. I always kept my distance from him because I knew that classmates, parents, and their friends wouldn't approve. But now... with new contexts and understanding, I know that Naruto, and it was indeed him, was still that little demon, still a child, an orphan, with no friends, no relatives... no one. I know that inside him is sealed the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox that rampaged through the village years ago...

My family, or rather, the family of this body, was familiar with it firsthand because an older child had died from the chakra poisoning of the Nine-Tails. Personal connection also played a big role in the perception of this boy, but now... What is Naruto himself to blame for? He was only born then. But let's get back to me. My old name no longer has any meaning. I don't think anyone in this world could even pronounce it. My new name is quite strange: Suzuki Grandvitara. For others, my name and surname didn't sound odd, but for me... I'll get used to it.

I am a student in the last class of the Shinobi Academy. I study with several famous characters from that work, namely Neji Hyuga and Ten Ten. Rock Lee studied for a while before he was taken for personal training. If not for the wave of memories, I would have known nothing about Rock until he met his team.

Where do I stand in terms of the strength of my class? That's a good question. If we're talking about theoretical grades, I'm solidly average. In terms of practice, I'm certainly not grabbing any stars. I think it's correct to speak of this in the past tense. I was average and was a weak practitioner. But I'm not the previous Suzuki. I'm new, and I definitely can't be at the bottom of the success list. This is a world of assassins, where strength decides almost everything. I don't want to be buried somewhere by someone because I didn't spend time practicing a certain technique.

In terms of chakra, I'm also not the most impressive, but I have a feeling this won't last long. Chakra is the energy formed from two main sources. The first source is physical energy or body energy. The second source is mental energy, also known as spiritual. Then, shinobi have the ability to mix these two types of energy to produce chakra, which is then used to create techniques and other cool stuff. Every shinobi can perfectly sense their own reserves for creating and maintaining chakra in the body, just as everyone understands the approximate limitations.

I know that compared to the past, I have an abnormally huge reserve of spiritual energy. I think this was influenced by the fact that I was reborn, gained amazing experience, and also stole something interesting from a being. If you think about it, I'm like a generator of spiritual energy. It's still difficult for me to compare with other shinobi because there are no statistical data, but it seems to me that I can outperform many.

However, my physical energy hasn't changed in size... well, or maybe it has grown a bit. Suzuki's body has hardly changed after my settling in it. Perhaps I haven't noticed these changes yet, but it's still not enough to be at the top of physical energy in our class. For that, I will have to start training to catch up with the others. But that's not a problem. What is work? It's only the key to something important. And I'm certainly not afraid of putting in effort for some result, especially if I can feel it.

Dingiding! Dingiding!

The alarm started screaming as if it was a pig fighting demons. But since I wasn't sleepy at all, I just turned it off. I think I need to change the setting to wake up earlier. I need to train.

Getting up, I decided not to postpone anything for later, especially my physical development, and started with a warm-up. For now, I didn't push myself too hard, just brought my body into some kind of tone. After washing up in cold water to fully dispel sleep, I went for breakfast.

My father, named Omeda Grandvitara, was sitting at the table reading some newspaper. He was also not young anymore. A slight obesity had accompanied him all his life. Working in a bakery isn't the most grateful job for weight. But somehow, he managed. Not being a shinobi, he possessed commendable self-control.

"Good morning, father!" I greeted him first. That was the custom in our family.

"Good morning, Suzuki," he responded. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine," I shrugged. "Good morning, mom."

My mom, named Hotaru Grandvitara, works at one of the local bazaars, selling various trinkets that come from other ends of the Land of Fire as well as from other countries. In general, she also deals with important matters that bring some profit.

Neither she nor Omeda are shinobi. They don't have any abilities to mix physical and spiritual energies. This means only one thing… they must rely on the protection of other shinobi and the village. According to the plan, my long-deceased older brother was supposed to open a small shop with the help of my parents. I was supposed to become a shinobi so that taxes would be less. It's long been known that if a family has a shinobi, taxes are calculated differently. Father decided to open the shop himself but has not yet found the strength to do so. The money was already set aside, suppliers for the materials found, even a place chosen… Most likely, he's waiting for me to become a genin, because then it will also be cheaper to take a loan from the Bank of the Land of Fire, and the chances of getting a larger sum are higher.

"Today should be a nice day," said my mother.

"Your knees aren't hurting?" my father asked, without even looking up from his newspaper.

"Not at all," she replied contentedly. "If they were, you would have been the first to know."

"Yes, you never forget to tell me about your pains," my father chuckled. "Let's have breakfast already. What do we have?"

"Fried eggs, rice, tea, and a sandwich with apple jam," she answered.

"O-oh," my father stretched the word. "Sounds pretty good. And you have the academy today, right, Suzuki?"

"Yes," I nodded. "I think I'll come back a bit later today."

"What's up?" he inquired.

"I need to practice some techniques," I said calmly. "The instructors might want to check our progress, and I'm not feeling too confident about them yet."

"Good," my father said. "That's the correct attitude."

My parents don't worry too much when I come home late because the previous Suzuki never got into trouble. The police never brought him home, neighbors never complained, and no bad rumors reached them. If I were in a game, I'd be called a bot or an NPC. In general, it was a positive factor for me.

Breakfast was delicious. My mother always knew how to cook well. My father, working in a bakery, doesn't like to cook at home. He always says he gets no pleasure from cooking. I don't know if that's true or not... I don't care.

"Alright, mom, dad, I'm off," I said. Quickly tossing the already prepared lunch into my bag along with other school supplies, I left the house.

The weather outside was still warm, but clouds and slightly yellowed leaves hinted that colder weather was coming soon, which would make us all change our clothes and slightly alter our way of life.

Konoha, the village where I am, has enjoyed relative peace and prosperity for the last few years. There hasn't been a war for a long time, which has allowed it to fatten up and prepare for the next major conflict. Skirmishes at the border don't count because they don't result in significant human resource losses, only financial ones. But that seems standard for the world of assassins.

Walking past the large Arena, which often becomes the center of various competitions for shinobi and ordinary people, I noticed several open stalls that make all their profit on days when something happens in the Arena. After that, I took a slight detour and ended up at a small park with a small clock in the center. Looking at it, I realized one thing: I need to hurry up.