{Thanks for dropping by!}
{AN at the bottom!}
Warmth.
A feeling Masaru had grown fond of since his first real spar. Before, it had been foreign — a sudden rush of strength and emotion that pushed him past his limits. But now he understood it better.
Masaru had two souls within him.
It had been a while since his first attempt to connect with his classmates — Izumi, specifically — and in that time he'd spent a lot of it looking inward. He'd learned plenty from Maruboshi‑sensei, but also from simply sitting with himself.
One day, on a whim, he tried meditating.
At first, nothing happened. He felt silly, frustrated, but he kept doing it anyway. Every morning after training, he carved out a bit of time to sit among the trees and breathe. Even if it didn't lead anywhere, it helped him think.
Then, on a cold morning, something inside him shifted.
Chakra — not his — bubbled up and moved through him. It circled once, twice, and on the third—
He blinked and found himself standing in a dark room.
There was no light, but he could still make out the shapes closest to him. A dull ache pulsed behind his temple. He shook his head and focused his chakra, rubbing it together the way he'd practiced.
A small flame flickered to life in his palm.
The room was cramped and stale. A heavy metal door blocked the exit. The walls were cracked stone, damp and moldy. The ceiling was too smooth to be natural.
Shinobi work, he thought.
A small bed sat in the corner, a thin, ruined mattress on top. Something stuck out from underneath — papers, with a pencil beside them.
He crouched and picked them up.
The drawings were detailed, the kind someone makes when they have nothing but time. But the images themselves were… wrong.
The first showed a room like this one, but with a metal table in the center. Deep scratches covered its surface. Dark stains pooled and dripped off the edges.
Masaru felt dread rise in him, then fade.
He moved to the next drawing.
A man, seen from a child's height. Towering. Masked like a snarling bear. A cloak draped over one shoulder. A scalpel in his hand, blood still dripping from the blade.
But the eyes — drawn with too much care — were the worst part. Curious. Interested. Like the man had found something worth opening up.
Masaru swallowed hard and put the drawings back.
Only then did he notice the weight at his hip.
His katana.
"…That wasn't there a moment ago."
Click… creak.
The lock turned. The door opened. Two figures entered — one large, one small. The larger man shoved the smaller inside.
He was broad‑shouldered, almost Akimichi‑like without the fat. A dark cloak. An animal mask — a fox. A tattoo of a tree peeked from his sleeve.
Masaru stayed in the shadows as Fox pushed the child forward.
"Get in there, you little shit. You know the drill."
The door slammed shut.
The boy stayed on his knees for a moment before pushing himself up. Masaru's breath caught.
Dull grey eyes.
Freshly shaved head.
Scars everywhere — some healed, some pink, some still bleeding through rough bandages.
Masaru stared.
Those scars look like—
"Your scars?" the boy said, tilting his head. His voice was small, rough. "They're not. They're mine. Or… they were. Just like that body."
Masaru froze.
It clicked.
"You're me."
The boy shook his head. "No. We're different. You don't have my memories, and I don't have yours. We lived different lives."
His eyes flicked over Masaru's gear. "…Obviously."
Masaru swallowed.
This kid is the original Masaru. The one whose life I took.
The boy sat on the bed. "I know some of what's going on. Some of it leaks through from you."
"You have some of my memories?" Masaru asked quietly.
"A few," the boy said. "I don't remember everything, but when you arrived, I was dying. We were dying. Something stopped it. Healed us just enough for the village to find us. But I was scared. And when I woke up, you were in control, and I was stuck here."
He looked down at his hands.
"For a while, I was a mess. Then some of your memories started showing up. Thoughts. Images. A metal bird flying in the sky. A stadium full of people watching teams throw a ball."
He shook his head.
Masaru didn't breathe.
The boy looked up.
"You're from another world. I don't know why you were put in my body. But… I don't hate you."
Masaru flinched.
He expected anger. Blame. Something sharp.
Not this.
"Why?"
"…Because I'd be dead if not for you." The boy's eyes drifted to the iron door. "And those bastards don't deserve to walk free after what they did to me."
The rage in his eyes was deep and steady, not explosive — the kind that never really goes away.
Masaru felt relief, guilt, frustration — but mostly clarity.
He stepped forward.
"Then help me."
The boy blinked.
Masaru continued, voice low and steady.
"Help me take down Danzo Shimura and Root. Help me undo what they did. Help me take everything from him — his pride, his armor, his hope."
He held out his hand.
"Help me kill him."
The boy stared at the hand for a long time.
Then he took it.
Masaru exhaled. "I don't think I'll ever stop feeling sorry for taking your life. Maybe we're the same person and something split when I arrived… I don't know."
He shook his head.
"But I can't keep wishing for my old world. I live here now. My home is a tiny house in the Leaf, and I'm a shinobi. I know how this story is supposed to go, so I want to protect the people I can."
For the first time, the boy smiled.
"That means you — we — might have to become Hokage one day."
Masaru smiled back. "I know. And I'll wear the hat if I have to. But first we've got some people to change… and canon to break."
The boy tilted his head. "What does a cannon have to do with becoming Hokage?"
Masaru laughed. "Don't worry about it. Let's get out of here."
The boy looked around the room, his expression tightening. "…Yeah. Let's go."
Masaru blinked—
—and he was back in Training Ground 57.
He managed a smile before his eyes rolled back and his body seized violently.
"AHHHGH!"
An ANBU appeared beside him in a flicker, checked his vitals, then lifted him and vanished. Another appeared and sprinted toward the hospital.
"Inform the Hokage — Masaru Kano is experiencing chakra depletion and a bloodline awakening. Immediately."
{AN: To those of you who aren't new, I'm sorry for the long period of silence. I currently have some bad grades and thus don't have the time to focus on pumping out chapters. I understand that I should have said something, but I didn't.
In any case, I've started writing a little on the side and I have some ideas about Masaru's background and future so stay tuned for that.
And finally- Wait for the next chapter to see what the hell happened to our favourite depressed pre-teen!}