The last thing I remembered was the blaring horn of a truck. My body froze, my legs rooted to the spot as a sea of headlights swallowed me whole. I didn't even have time to feel the pain. It was just… darkness.

And then, I woke up.

At first, I thought I was in a hospital. My limbs felt weak, and I couldn't lift my head. But the soft cooing of a woman nearby dispelled that notion. Her voice was warm and unfamiliar, speaking a language I didn't recognize. Panic set in as I opened my eyes, only to be greeted by the sight of red hair framing her gentle face.

"Look at him," she whispered. "He has the Uzumaki eyes."

Uzumaki? The word triggered something deep within me—a flood of memories from my past life. I'd spent hours watching Naruto as a teenager. The Uzumaki Clan, renowned for their vitality and sealing techniques, had always fascinated me. But they were a fictional clan in a fictional world… weren't they?

The woman—my mother, I realized—smiled down at me, her vibrant red hair glowing in the soft light. "Riku," she said, her voice filled with love. "Your name is Riku."

Riku Uzumaki. That was my new name.

For years, I lived in quiet confusion, piecing together the fragments of my new reality. Uzushiogakure, the Village Hidden in the Whirling Tides, was unlike anything I'd seen in the anime. It was vibrant and bustling, filled with Uzumaki shinobi who specialized in sealing techniques. Yet, there was an undercurrent of tension—whispers of war and alliances being tested.

By the time I turned six, I knew I wasn't like the other children. My memories of my past life gave me a unique perspective. I recognized the names of my clan's elders and the seals they spoke of. The Adamantine Sealing Chains, the Reaper Death Seal—these were techniques that would one day shape the world. But none of them knew the doom that awaited Uzushiogakure.

The knowledge weighed heavily on me. I didn't know the exact timeline, but I knew the Hidden Eddy Village would be destroyed, its people scattered to the winds. My family, my friends, my clan—they were all destined to die. And I refused to let that happen.

Determined to change fate, I threw myself into training. The Uzumaki were known for their massive chakra reserves, and I was no exception. By the age of eight, I could sustain basic jutsu for hours without tiring. But it wasn't enough. I needed to master the art of sealing if I had any hope of protecting my people.

One day, I snuck into the clan's archives, a massive library filled with scrolls detailing ancient Uzumaki techniques. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and ink, and I felt a strange sense of déjà vu as I unrolled the first scroll. The symbols were complex, almost incomprehensible, but something deep within me resonated with them. It was as if the knowledge was already a part of me, waiting to be unlocked.

I spent hours in the archives, pouring over scrolls and practicing seals in secret. My progress was slow but steady. By the time I was ten, I had mastered basic sealing techniques and even created a few of my own. My parents were proud, but they didn't understand the urgency driving me. Every day that passed brought us closer to the inevitable.