Masaki often felt like an outsider, not quite fitting in, even as part of the famous Uchiha clan in Konoha. He had more wealth than he’d ever dreamed of, inherited from parents he’d barely had the chance to know before they were gone. But despite the large estate he called home, there was an emptiness there, a hollow quiet that made it feel more like a forgotten mansion than a family home.

Besides Masaki, the only other person who lived there was Ayame Uchiha, an elderly woman who took care of him with the warmth of family. Yet, deep down, Masaki understood he was different—a traveler from another life, one without real family here.

At just five, he remembered every detail of his past life, where he’d struggled to make ends meet, barely managing to pay his bills while dreaming of a wealth he could never touch. In this world, he’d achieved that dream overnight, with riches and a prime home in the heart of Konoha. Many envied him, but he knew his life here was not as simple as it seemed. And now, according to Ayame, it was time for him to take the next step: joining the shinobi Academy.

After wandering around the village for the day, Masaki returned home. The aroma wafting from the kitchen greeted him warmly as he pushed open the black gate, his little feet padding across the courtyard. ‘Right on time’, he thought with a grin.

On his way home, Masaki noticed a kid following him. After a moment, he realized it was none other than Shisui Uchiha. As he walked to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but replay their encounter in his mind.

Earlier that afternoon, Masaki had walked through the Uchiha clan’s streets, carrying himself with as much confidence as a five-year-old could. Holding a skewer of meatballs, he took slow bites, savoring each one while watching the bustling scene around him. But soon, he picked up on the quiet footsteps following close behind.

“Hey, kid!” Masaki had called out, tossing his empty skewer toward the shadow trailing him. The stick struck Shisui on the head, making him stumble a little.

“Why are you following me?” Masaki asked, still chewing on his meatball, barely glancing at the surprised look on the other boy’s face.

“This is a public street,” Shisui mumbled, looking away.

Masaki held back a laugh. “Oh, so you’re just strolling around, huh? Well, I was going to offer you some meatballs, but never mind!”

He pretended to turn away, but before he could take a step, he heard a hesitant voice behind him. “Wait! Really?”

Masaki turned back with a mischievous grin and, in one big bite, stuffed the rest of the meatballs into his mouth. “Yep. Really!”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Shisui’s eyes went wide, his face caught between disbelief and annoyance. He looked down, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was holding back a complaint. “Didn’t you say I could have some?” he asked, sounding frustrated.

Masaki shrugged, keeping his tone casual. “Well, you didn’t seem interested, so I figured you didn’t want any!”

Shisui paused, still not sure how to react, then let out a sigh. “Fine. But at least tell me your name so we can actually share next time.”

“Masaki. Masaki Uchiha.” He glanced over at the kid, curious. “And you?”

“Oh! I’m Shisui. Shisui Uchiha!” Shisui pointed down the street with a grin. “I live just over there.”

“Got it,” Masaki replied, walking away with a smirk. He thought to himself, ’What a funny kid. Shisui, huh? Never know he was like this as a child.’

When Masaki entered the house, he found Ayame waiting with dinner ready. Ayame, a woman in her fifties, had lost her husband and son in battle. She’d been hired to take care Masaki, but she looked after him with genuine love, and he respected her deeply.

“Welcome back, Masaki-kun,” she greeted him with a warm smile. “What’s got you smiling?”

“Oh, nothing much,” he replied, still grinning as he thought about meeting Shisui. “I just met someone interesting today—a funny little kid from our clan.”

Masaki moved to wash his hands and then started helping with dinner. He carefully filled a bowl with rice and handed it to Ayame, who accepted it with a soft smile.

“At your age, you should make more friends,” she said with a gentle nod, taking the bowl from him.

After serving another bowl, Masaki knelt across from Ayame, settling into his spot at the low table. Though he was young, his heart and mind was much older. He made it a point to do what he could by himself, not wanting to burden Ayame more than necessary. Even in this second life, he was determined to be independent and do his part.

“Eat up! I made all your favorites,” Ayame said with a warm smile, brushing a few stray white hairs from her forehead. “Today, I even got some pork knuckles from the market and cooked them just the way you like!”

“Thank you, Ayame-baa-san! It smells amazing!” Masaki’s face lit up with appreciation, and Ayame chuckled at his eagerness. They enjoyed their meal together, filling the room with warmth and friendly chatter. The house felt cozy, making Masaki felt a rare sense of having a family.

After dinner, Masaki gathered the dishes, putting the leftovers away and tidying up without needing to be asked. He noticed Ayame-san slowing down with age, so he had naturally started taking on more chores around the house to help her.. It was clear to him that she was grateful, happy that Masaki do this, making her feel like they are family.

“Masaki-kun, don’t stay up too late,” Ayame said as she headed to bed, clearly tired but content.

“Goodnight, Ayame-baa-san! I’ll rest soon too,” he replied, watching her retreat into her room.

Once Ayame-san was out of sight, Masaki sat back down, letting his thoughts drift. He was now five, and as she had mentioned, his clan planned for him to start at the shinobi Academy soon. With school beginning in just a few days, he knew it was time to get ready.

As he looked up at the darkening sky, a spark of excitement lit up inside him. Unlike most people, his arrival in this world hadn’t been by chance—it was meant to happen. Before crossing over, a powerful being had promised him a special gift: the greatest talent, one that would grow and adapt with him. This talent was Masaki’s hidden advantage in this world. Until now, he’d been too young to use it, and he hadn’t touched the shinobi tools and scrolls his late parents had left for him. But now felt like the right time to begin.

‘Why wait any longer?’ he thought with a grin.