"Boss, how much is this mask?"
In the afternoon, pure white snowflakes drifted from the sky. On the bustling, snow-covered street, a small child dressed in a pitch-black coat stopped in front of a shop selling masks. He bent down, casually picked up a mask from the stall, and asked.
"Bastard! Who let you touch that?!"
The shopkeeper reacted as if his backside had caught fire, screaming as he snatched the mask from the child's hands. He then pulled a cloth from his pocket and furiously wiped the spot the child had touched, as if trying to erase some kind of filth. While doing so, he glared at the boy with undisguised disgust.
Under the shopkeeper's piercing gaze, the child slowly straightened up. His deep blue eyes lifted slightly as he cast a cold glance at the man, then turned to leave.
Smack!
"Hmph! Who would want something that a demon fox has touched?! Just my rotten luck!"
With a shout of anger, the shopkeeper threw the mask at the boy's back. It bounced off him and fell into the snow.
The commotion drew the attention of nearby pedestrians. After a brief moment of surprise, they quickly gathered around, murmuring amongst themselves.
"Be careful! Don't go near that blond brat! He's a bad omen! The Fourth Hokage died because of him!"
"That's right! I heard he's the incarnation of the demon fox! He eats people!"
"Yeah! A few years ago, I nearly got eaten by him myself! I saw it with my own eyes—this demon fox devoured so many people! And so many powerful ninja were killed by it!"
"Why does the Hokage still allow him to stay in the village...?"
The child ignored the clamor around him, his face remaining indifferent. But as he turned back to pick up the mask, he suddenly froze.
The mask lying in the snow bore a painted, smiling fox face.
Yet at this moment, that smile seemed to mock him.
"Even a mask looks down on me?"
"No, no, no… It's just me. I'm still not detached enough. I let these people get under my skin."
After a moment of self-examination, the boy picked up the mask, now dusted with snow, and placed it directly over his face. As the cold, melting snow seeped into his skin, two masked figures suddenly appeared before him.
"Ah! It's the Anbu!"
Someone in the crowd recognized the newcomers. At that instant, the spectators immediately fell silent, their previous curiosity giving way to fear. They quickly dispersed, whispering amongst themselves as they left.
They were just ordinary people, there to watch the drama unfold. But the sudden appearance of the Hokage's elite Anbu carried a weight they dared not ignore.
"Uzumaki Naruto, it's time to go home. The Hokage is waiting for you."
"Yeah, I know. I am Uzumaki Naruto. You don't have to remind me so deliberately."
The wind picked up...
Through the mask, Naruto looked up again. Snowflakes, as light as willow catkins, danced wildly in the chilling wind. The snowfall grew heavier and heavier, sweeping in fierce waves.
He was Uzumaki Naruto.
But he did not belong to this world.
In his original world, he was an abandoned infant, born with a paralyzed lower body. With the help of a social welfare program, he had struggled to learn a skill that finally allowed him to survive in that towering cityscape. And just as he had carved out a place for himself, fate played a cruel joke.
During a random earthquake, trapped in his wheelchair while watching anime, he met his end at the hands of an indifferent world.
In that final moment, as his life ebbed away, only one thought filled his mind:
"If only the heavens would grant me a healthy body..."
When he next awoke, he found himself in the body of a newborn.
For a brief, exhilarating moment, he had cried out in joy. But then he realized—he was alone once again.
He had become Uzumaki Naruto.
And his parents, after leaving him a few parting words, vanished from his life forever. He hadn't even had the chance to open his eyes and see them before an overwhelming force surged into his fragile infant body.
He blacked out…
Four years had passed since he came to this world.
Yet the snow here was no different from the snow he once knew. The winters here were just as bitterly cold.
Crunch, crunch.
His footsteps pressed lightly into the thick snow as he began his walk home, the mask still on his face. Behind him, the two Anbu silently followed.
As they turned a corner, a fair-skinned child with black hair was walking ahead, holding the hand of a young man with a ponytail. The boy suddenly became excited and tugged at the young man's sleeve, his voice filled with childish enthusiasm.
"Onii-san! I want a mask too!"
"Sasuke, what kind of mask do you like?"
The young man's voice was gentle, his handsome face framed by naturally formed laugh lines at the sides of his nose.
As he watched Naruto's figure disappear into the distance, he crouched down and turned his back to the little boy.
On the back of his clothing, a fan-shaped Uchiha crest was clearly visible.
The boy named Sasuke blushed, then grinned excitedly before jumping onto the young man's back. His own clothes bore the same Uchiha emblem…
"Hehehe! Naruto, I never expected you to master all the common characters at just four years old! And your comprehension is so high—you're a bright and talented child!"
In a dilapidated little building, an old man's voice rang out, filled with warmth and admiration.
"Being able to read isn't anything special. And Hokage-sama, you've been taking the time to teach me for quite a while now. I've even seen kids my age already learning ninjutsu—they're the real geniuses."
After the elderly man's praise, a childish voice replied matter-of-factly.
But as soon as the boy finished speaking, silence filled the room.
On the second floor of the old building, an elderly man stood with a complicated expression, watching the child meticulously pack away his books.
He was Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Third Hokage of Konoha.
"Naruto, do you want to become a ninja?"
"Yes, Hokage-sama. I want to be a ninja. May I?"
Naruto turned around, his expression calm as he looked at the old man.
"Why do you want to be a ninja?"
"I heard people say that ninjas can use jutsu to transform into someone else."
The Third Hokage fell silent.
To him, that reason wasn't enough to justify the risks of allowing Naruto to begin training.
After all, this child carried another identity—the Jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails.
Sarutobi recalled Naruto's upbringing.
From the night he was born, this child never cried again. Unlike other children his age, he never displayed curiosity about his origins. At just three years old, he had personally asked Sarutobi to teach him how to read.
Looking at Naruto now, Sarutobi hesitated.
Then, Naruto spoke again.
"Hokage-sama, I want to learn ninjutsu so that I can really transform. That way, when I go outside, people won't hate me. That way, I won't have to stay home all the time..."
Sarutobi's heart wavered.
He saw in this child the same warmth and resilience that had once defined Minato.
"Naruto! Since we still have time today, let me teach you how to refine chakra. And I'll also teach you the Transformation Jutsu. But you have to take it seriously!"
"Thank you, Hokage-sama! I'll do my best!"
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