Chereads / Naruto: Through A Dog's Eyes / Chapter 3 - Sensory Awakening

Chapter 3 - Sensory Awakening

Three months into this new life, and I was finally getting the hang of the whole 'being a baby' thing. My vision had sharpened, no longer a blur of indistinct shapes. I could focus on objects, track movement. It was a game-changer.

Late at night, when the house was quiet, I'd practice. Flexing my fingers, trying to grasp things. It was frustrating how little control I had over this body, but I was improving. Slowly, sure, but improving.

But my real fascination? My sense of smell. Holy hell, was it intense.

I could identify everyone in the clan by scent alone. Tsume smelled like pine and something wild – wolf, maybe? Hana was softer, puppies and flower petals. The ninken each had their own unique musk.

But it went deeper than that. I could smell emotions. Fear smelled sharp and acrid. Happiness was warm, like sunshine. Anger had a bitter, metallic tinge.

It was overwhelming at first. Imagine being bombarded with everyone's emotional state, all the time. But as the weeks passed, I learned to filter it, to focus on specific scents.

One morning, as Tsume changed my diaper (still weird, but I was getting used to it), something new happened. She made a hand sign – some minor jutsu to clean up, I think – and suddenly...

Warmth. A tingling sensation that danced across my skin. It felt like... like standing near a crackling fire, but the heat was inside me, not outside.

Chakra. I was sensing chakra.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. This was it. Proof that this wasn't some elaborate hallucination. I was really here, in a world where energy could be molded by will alone.

Excitement bubbled up inside me. And then...

CRASH.

The mobile above my crib shattered. Toys went flying off shelves. The window rattled in its frame.

Shit.

Tsume leapt back, eyes wide. "What the-"

I tried to look innocent. Just a normal baby here. Definitely didn't just cause a localized earthquake with my mind.

"TSUME!" Hana's voice, panicked. She burst into the room, kunai in hand. "What happened? Are we under attack?"

"No, pup." Tsume's voice was low, her eyes never leaving me. "I think... I think that was Kiba."

Double shit.

"Kiba?" Hana lowered the kunai, confusion written across her face. "But he's just a baby. How could he-"

"I don't know." Tsume cut her off. "Go fetch the elders. Now."

As Hana dashed off, Tsume approached my crib cautiously. I did my best to look harmless. Gurgled a bit. Maybe drooled for good measure.

"What are you, little one?" she murmured, reaching out to stroke my cheek. "What are you going to become?"

I wish I knew, I thought. I really wish I knew.

The next few hours were a blur of poking, prodding, and hushed discussions. Clan elders peered at me, made hand signs I didn't recognize. One particularly wrinkled old man held a glowing hand over my body, humming thoughtfully.

I caught snatches of their conversation. "Unprecedented chakra levels." "Potential security risk." "Prodigy, perhaps?"

Finally, mercifully, they left. As Tsume put me down for a nap, I could see the worry etched on her face. It made something twist in my gut. Guilt, maybe? She hadn't asked for a reincarnated adult masquerading as her son.

As I lay there, mind racing, one thing became crystal clear: I needed to be more careful. Much more careful. I'd gotten excited, slipped up, and now I was on everyone's radar.

No more accidental chakra flares. No more showing off. I had to play the role of a normal – if gifted – baby. At least until I was old enough to pass off my abilities as prodigious talent rather than... whatever the hell I actually was.

It was going to be a long few years. But I'd do it. I had to. Because the alternative – being seen as a freak, a threat, a thing to be studied or weaponized – was unthinkable.

As I drifted off to sleep, lulled by the familiar scents of home, I made a promise to myself. I would become strong. Strong enough to protect this new family. Strong enough to change the future I knew was coming.

But first, I had to master the art of being ordinary. Well, ordinary-ish.

How hard could it be?