Kinjo wearily opened his eyes and blinked several times to adjust to the bright sunlight coming through the window. He shook his head as he recollected the vivid dream when something stabbed into his hand. He opened his fist to see a piece of paper lodged inside.

It was the list.

He quickly stuffed it into a small drawer in his desk, his eyes widening at his surroundings. The room was narrow, with barely enough space for a desk, a futon, and a closet. The walls were painted white instead of a familiar light blue. Noticing that his window was still open, he promptly stuck his head out.

When he looked outside, he saw a bustling city with a blend of modern and pre-industrial aesthetics. Bright-colored shops opened their doors, and people of varying styles and sizes were moving about on the streets. The smell of fresh bread and hot iron drifted into his room, an unfamiliar aroma that was strangely pleasing. From the corner of his eyes, he saw two rapid blurs shoot across the street from rooftop to rooftop.

"It wasn't a dream." Kinjo's eyes widened as the blurs disappeared as fast as they came. Watching animated shinobi moving on a screen was immensely different from witnessing real-life shinobi firsthand.

As his eyes darted towards neighboring rooftops, a loud bang rattled the room as a small girl with light brown hair and bright amber eyes marched into the room. She giddily looked around the room and beamed after finding her brother. Her chubby cheeks lifted by an inch as she spoke. "Brother, momma said it's time for you to get up and eat!"

"Alright… Mika." He replied, his mind recalling a burst of excitement when he saw her for the first time four years ago. "I'll be right there, ok?"

"Ok!" Mika said cheerfully. "And it's my turn to choose the games today!"

"Are we going to play that card game… menko again?" Kinjo inquired.

"Yep!" His sister huffed, "You took my favorite card last time, so I'm going to win it back!"

Mika's attitude brought an immediate smile to Kinjo's face. She reminded him too much of Sarah, his "other" younger sister. "Sure, sure. Now go wash your hands."

As the child ambled away, Kinjo stepped away from the window and stumbled over to his closet. While he changed into a plain gray t-shirt and worn jeans, his eyes drifted to a foggy mirror nearby. Once he finished changing, he grabbed the mirror and stared at it intently.

He looked strikingly like his sister: light brown hair teetering on the edge of orange, seal brown eyes, and a plain but cute face. It was vastly different from how he looked on Earth.

"How am I so relaxed about this?" Kinjo whispered.

Perhaps it was because he was at peace with the fact that he had died, and his siblings would take care of his parents. Or maybe it was because he retained the memories and emotions of the previous "host." Not to mention, the knowledge of this world's future kept him busy from overthinking his unique situation. Regardless, he was… at home in Kinjo's body and Konoha, as shocking as the experience was.

The thought of quashing and replacing the innocent mind of a six-year-old took a backseat as he slowly trekked into the hallway.

He entered the bathroom by mistake before finding the dining room, even though there were only three doors to choose from. When he finally entered the room his family was in, Kinjo carefully looked around. The dining room was small, made smaller by the kitchen squashed into the corner. It was noticeably bare, with only a family picture decorating the dark blue wooden walls. The members of the Takashi family occupied the worn dining table and rickety chairs.

Mika was zealously eating a bowl of rice with some odd food named acorn jelly and miso soup. A few grains of rice were stuck around her mouth, though she continued to eat with reckless abandon.

Satoshi, who had noticeably darker brown hair and eyes similar to Mika's, was chewing on some porridge and seaweed in his high chair.

Meanwhile, Kinjo's mother was starting her meal after she had finished breakfast for her children. She was a young woman that looked like an older version of Mika. Her face lit up when she saw Kinjo wander into the room, "Good morning, Kin. Did you sleep well?"

"I did… mom," Kinjo responded. "And you?"

She yawned and gently stroked Satoshi, who looked up and gurgled happily. "Not very well. Your brother was up all night yesterday; he was crying and raising a ruckus for hours."

Kinjo slid into an empty seat at the table and hesitantly helped himself to some fried eggs. "You should get some rest after you eat, mom. I can wash the dishes and watch Mika and Satoshi."

"You would?" The young woman asked with a yawn.

"Of course." Memories of him taking care of his siblings while both of his parents worked tirelessly filtered through his mind.

"You're growing up so fast. Taking care of your siblings and now washing the dishes too?" His mother patted his head, "Thank you, Kin. That will let me nap for an hour before heading to Shoko's. If your father calls for you, make sure to help him. I'm sure Mika can look after Satoshi alone while you're gone."

"I'm a big girl!" Mika boasted as she accidentally launched her rice-filled spoon across the table.

"You most certainly are a big girl," Kinjo's mother softly laughed, wiping up the mess.

The eldest of the Takashi siblings hurriedly ate his food while his mother fussed over his siblings. He looked at the unfamiliar brunet in the family picture for a few seconds before turning to the family's matriarch, "Is the shop busy today?"

"I haven't heard a sound from the store since it opened a few hours ago, but a shipment from Suna is coming later today. Your father will need your help unloading it and putting it in the storeroom."

Kinjo nodded, his mind elsewhere as he finished up his breakfast. After he finished, he collected all the dishes from the table and grabbed a small bath stool to stand on. As he walked towards the sink, he noticed the pile of clothes on the narrow kitchen counter; it was what had kept his mother up for the past several days.

The sound of running water and his younger sister playing with Takoshi muted his mumbling as he washed the dishes. "I was around four when the Attack happened… It's been two years since the Attack… That means there are a few things that I can change before the main events start. The Hyuga Affair still hasn't happened, nor has the Massacre…."

A dull thud startled him out of his train of thought as his mother placed a bowl into the sink. She ruffled his hair before walking toward her bedroom. "I'll be in my room if you need anything. If you get hungry later, I left some rice balls in the fridge."

"Yes, mom."

While washing the dishes, Mika skipped over to him and grinned, "Hurry up, brother! I want to play!"

Once upon a time, he would've been extremely annoyed at his younger sibling's antics and ignored her. Now, he was almost two decades older mentally, and his desire to spoil his siblings surfaced. He smiled at her and pointed toward his younger brother. "I want to play with you too, but I have to clean these for mom. Make sure Satoshi doesn't eat anything off the floor while I finish up."

"Ok!" Mika bounced to Satoshi, who was crawling slowly under the table. She played peek-a-boo with him, much to Satoshi's and Kinjo's amusement.

Kinjo placed the final dish on the drying rack as he sighed. "Kids: adorable until they hit middle school, then they turn into little devils. Oh… I'm done, Mika!"

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Instantly, she scrambled to her room and returned with a deck of menko cards. Faces and names of famous shinobi adorned each card, including Leaf and foreign shinobi. She ran over to him and pulled out a card triumphantly, "I'll beat you with this!"

White, spiky hair. Red markings on his face. A smirk that was both friendly and smug.

"So that's what Jiraiya looked like in real life." Kinjo wrinkled his nose at the picture. "That's really…odd."

"What do you mean, brother?" Mika tilted her head quizzically. "Jiraya-sama is still alive!"

Kinjo blinked rapidly. "Right, I mean… I forgot that you had his card."

"Daddy gave me five menko packs yesterday, remember? He was inside the last one!"

"Maybe I should keep your favorite card since you already have a rare card."

He quickly returned to his room before his sister could reply, though her jaw dropped in horror. As he grabbed the deck of cards in his desk drawer, his eyes fell on the list. Kinjo gripped the list for a moment before dropping it. "Soon."

Kinjo returned to the dining room to see his sister sulking with her cards scattered in front of her. Satoshi was babbling and climbing on her back, leaving drool on the back of her shirt. Mika looked away and crossed her arms when she saw her older brother. It was only when he pulled out her prized card did she look at him.

"A mere Kiri jonin defeated Sarutobi?" Kinjo asked as he shuffled through the deck to find the Kiri shinobi in question. "Who the heck is Gonbee?"

"Brother, you need to address Hokage-sama more respectfully." Mika scolded. "Also, he would never be defeated by anyone. He's the strongest shinobi in the world!"

"Right… I can't just call him by his name.…."

"Get ready, 'cause I'm taking my card back!"

Mika held her Jiraya card at the ready, and Kinjo slowly placed the Third Hokage card on the floor. After aiming, the four-year-old child threw her card onto the floor and hit the corner of her target. The Third Hokage's face lifted towards Kinjo for a second before falling unflipped.

"No, Jiraya-sama!" The younger Takashi cried.

"My turn." After winding up dramatically in front of his sister, Kinjo lightly tapped his card on the floor. "Darn, I missed."

The exchange went back and forth several times before Mika could finally flip the card and win back her prized possession. She laughed as she hugged her card. "I'm sorry Jiraya-sama wounded you, Hokage-sama."

"Wounded?"

"It's like you forgot the rules, brother. If two shinobi from the same village fight, the winner wounds the loser, and the loser gives the card to the winner. But if shinobi from different villages fight, the loser's shinobi is killed, and the card is trashed!"

"How does that make any sense?" Kinjo mused.

"Because ninjas from the same village don't kill each other!"

"Huh, is that right?"

"Now let's play again!"

----------------------------------------

"Kinjo! Come down for a second!"

The boy in question looked up from his riceball and motioned to his sister, "Take care of Satoshi for me, ok? I'll be right back."

"Ok!"

Kinjo exited the dining room and discovered the stairway leading to the ground floor. After a few uneasy steps, he was in the store's backroom. It was filled with various crates and boxes, both empty and full. One of the crates was labeled "DO NOT TOUCH" in large, bolded letters. Looking towards the door leading to the shop, Kinjo carefully removed the crate's cover and peeked inside.

It was filled with beef jerky.

Shaking his head, he delicately opened the door and peeked through it. There, he witnessed his father standing near the front counter, loudly speaking with a dark-haired man who wore a bright yellow yukata. "I don't need soldier pills for my store."

"But they are a staple among shinobi, are they not? Konoha is the biggest shinobi village and, unsurprisingly, employs the largest number of shinobi. Even purchasing a single crate of these pills can net you a tenfold profit! Especially since the war with Kumo is still ongoing!" The man in the yukata insisted. "Makoto, these soldier pills are from Suna. You're well aware that we make some of the best soldier pills…."

While his father was not a physically imposing man, the stranger flinched when the store owner's onyx eyes glared at him. For a moment, Kinjo thought his father's spiky chestnut hair would shoot out toward the merchant. "My answer is still no, Endo. I don't want anything more than what I already bought."

Endo shrugged. "Suit yourself; I'll go somewhere else then. Thanks for the business, as always, Makoto. Say hi to Aya and the kids for me."

Kinjo stepped into the empty store after the man had left. After hearing the storeroom door close, his father turned to face him and patted his back, "How are your siblings doing?"

A few long seconds passed as Kinjo racked through his memories of interacting with the man. "They're doing fine; Satoshi is asleep, and Mika is watching over him."

"I heard you helped your mother with the dishes this morning! She looked well-rested before heading over to the tailors," Makoto mentioned, nodding in approval. "Looks like you're growing up fast. After Mika grows up a bit more, you can probably help me with the shop throughout the entire day instead of going back and forth."

Instead of retorting, Kinjo looked at the entrance of the store and the crates neatly piled near it. "Why didn't you buy the soldier pills… dad? That man said we could make lots of money from them. Do you hate shinobi?"

Makoto scoffed. "'Course not, son. In fact, a shinobi saved my life a few years ago..."

"How?" Kinjo asked with excitement in his voice.

"That's a story for another time." His father answered with a grimace. "The point is, son, I'm no idiot. I might not have been the smartest kid in my neighborhood, but I was always good with the business side of things. Where is our store located?"

"... Between the western and southern gates, pretty far away from the main roads."

"Good. How many stores like ours are there on the main roads?"

"About ten?"

"Thirteen, actually. That's not counting that giant monstrosity of a market building that opened up last month near the western gate." Makoto grumbled. "And who lives in this neighborhood?"

"Er… Civilians?"

"Civilians that aren't exactly rich. Not to mention, there are hardly any shinobi in this area except for the patrol groups that pass by. Do you understand why I was against buying the soldier pills now? Or shinobi supplies in general?"

"If a shinobi is heading off for a mission and needs supplies, like soldier pills, he can get them in one of the many shops near the main roads. Nobody in this area will buy them either, which means we'll lose money even if they are profitable?"

"That's my son!" Makoto cheered. "Besides, he's probably trying to dump some of the leftover soldier pills Suna made during the war. Those things last a while, and Suna does make them best. Now, help me move these to the back."

There were four containers near the entrance of the story. Kinjo was handed a small box by his father, holding a much larger crate. The young boy slowly moved towards the storeroom while his father easily rushed forward. Once they reached the back, they stacked their crates in an empty corner.

"What's in these, dad?"

"Some specialties from Suna: turquoise gemstones, salt, cosmetics, and nutrient pills."

"Turquoise gemstones?"

Makoto pulled out a gemstone from Kinjo's crate and handed it to his son. The sky blue stone glittered under the electric lights, though the surface was slightly misty."They're the less pure, inexpensive ones. Cheap, yet beautiful. Even people in our neighborhood can afford them for jewelry or gifts. As for the other stuff, they're in demand everywhere. Salt for cooking and food, obviously. Cosmetics for women and nutrient pills for all folks."

After another trip to carry the remaining crates to the back, his father dusted off his hands and wiped a trickle of sweat from his face. Kinjo was about to grab a pen and the inventory book when his father stopped him. "I think it's time for you to learn how to work at the front of the store. You have an eye for business, just like me. I wouldn't be surprised if you could manage the entire store alone in a few years."

"Uh…" The previous Kinjo might've been overjoyed, but the current Kinjo was frozen in place.

"For now, I'll show you how to use the register." Makoto slapped his back and ushered him forward. "After that, you'll only need to know a few things here and there to run the front of the store smoothly!"

Kinjo reluctantly followed, several memories of his other life crossing his mind as his hands moved toward the register with familiar ease.

----------------------------------------

"It's beautiful," Kinjo whispered as he sat on his futon. The half-moon shone a dim light into his bedroom, and the clear sky was full of stars. "I almost forgot what the night sky should look like."

After futilely searching for a familiar star, he focused on the list in his hand. At the very top of the paper, he had written several words in large, bold letters.

'FIND OUT HOW TO ENTER THE ACADEMY. RESEARCH RELEVANT INFORMATION. BECOME A SHINOBI.'

He frowned as he read the last several words, "Maybe I should've purposely messed up earlier. Dad seemed a bit too happy."

Working the register, greeting shoppers, and providing information about goods was easy and routine for him. His father seemed surprised but excited when Kinjo efficiently performed basic customer service.

"Damn, I guess it will be harder to convince him to let me a shinobi… I set his expectations too high for the wrong goal. I'll need to change his mind, fast."

Kinjo looked at the calendar hanging on the door of his room. Despite being in a vastly different world, his calendar looked similar to the one he had in his "other" room. "... Since Konoha was using the Gregorian calendar, did that mean Latin exists in this world? Do other nations use the same calendar or a different one like the Lunar calendar?"

He bit his lips before he could ramble further. He remained silent for a few seconds as he sifted through his thoughts. "Focus, focus. Worry about the small details later. For now, I have to focus on my goals.."

Instead of sleeping, Kinjo crossed his legs and closed his eyes. He searched for something he knew he had but never used. A few long minutes passed as he tenaciously looked for a single spark of energy. Yet he was in the dark, and not a single flicker of light could be seen at the end. His mind fumbled blindly, searching for an existing oasis without a map.

"Shouldn't this be a bit easier? I know I have chakra; everyone does. So why can't I reach it?"

He relaxed his shoulders and sucked in a deep breath. This time, Kinjo carried out his search calmly, baiting his chakra to reveal itself as if he was indifferent to the matter.

Still, nothing.

"Fuck." Kinjo cursed as he tossed the list into his desk and rolled onto his futon. "I guess that's going on my priorities list."

Suddenly, an idea emerged from the depths of his mind. It was so simple that Kinjo slapped his forehead with a groan. The fog in his mind lifted, and he was back on track.

"That will do."