"Dad! Mom! I'm back!"
"Akira, you're home!"
A middle-aged woman wearing simple house clothes hurried out of the kitchen. She was Ito Akira's mother in this life—Ito Hanako.
Hanako had originally been a civilian shinobi with no clan name. Years ago, she met Ito Aoyama during a mission, and the two eventually became partners. After their marriage, she took the Ito surname.
"Mom, what did you make today? It smells incredible the moment I walked in!"
"I made your favorites—sweet-and-sour pork and four-happiness meatballs."
Because Akira carried memories from another life, he had introduced quite a few unfamiliar dishes to this world over the years. It couldn't be helped. Food in the ninja world was painfully limited—ramen and barbecue were already considered top-tier cuisine.
He had once thought about introducing more things from his previous world as well—technology, tools, inventions—but quickly gave up. He simply didn't have that kind of talent.
Besides, the technological development of the ninja world was… crooked, to put it mildly. Much of the theoretical knowledge he remembered was completely useless here.
A few years back, Akira had tinkered with inventions for a while, only to abandon the idea entirely.
I really don't have the makings of someone like Orochimaru…
Hanako had no idea what had happened at the academy that day. Ito Aoyama and Ito Taiga hadn't told her—and they saw no reason to.
What good would it do, other than make her worry?
As long as Akira was home safe, that was all that mattered.
After dinner, Akira returned to his room.
The events of the day—and the sudden binding of the system—had caught him completely off guard. More importantly, they had subtly but decisively altered his plans for the future.
Originally, his goal had been simple: train as much as possible, grow as strong as he could.
After all, what was the point of being reborn into the ninja world if you didn't experience the magic of chakra?
As for saving the world?
He'd never considered that his responsibility.
I'm not the protagonist. I know my limits.
His original plan had been to cling tightly to people like Uzumaki Naruto, live a comfortable life, marry a beautiful wife, and grow old peacefully. Maybe visit some famous hot springs. Or enjoy a drink served by a charming onee-san at an izakaya.
After all, this world had its own… unique comforts.
He'd worked himself to death in his previous life—why couldn't he enjoy this one?
His life plan had been simple: eat well, live well, enjoy himself.
But now, everything was different.
The arrival of the system had shattered that comfortable certainty.
More importantly, he had obtained Uchiha Madara as a contracted summoning.
And that meant possibilities—terrifying, exhilarating possibilities.
He now possessed Indra's chakra.
Which meant… he might one day reach the same heights as Madara himself.
At that point, lying flat no longer made sense.
Who wouldn't want to personally experience the bonds, passion, bloodshed, and friendships of the Naruto world?
And buried deep in Akira's heart was an ambition shared by countless people across lifetimes—
To rise.To stand above others.To carve a legacy that would echo through history.
This world didn't have emperors—but it did have nations.
And shinobi strong enough to reshape them.
The thought made Akira's heart race.
Who hasn't dreamed of standing at the very top?
He also had clear plans for the system's summoning mechanics.
Summoned spirits were divided into five tiers:
White – Genin
Green – Chūnin
Blue – Jōnin
Purple – Elite Jōnin
Gold – Kage-level
Akira had no interest in white or green-tier summons.
In this world, numbers meant nothing before absolute power.
A hundred thousand genin couldn't kill someone like Madara.
Even a million wouldn't be enough.
His focus would be solely on high-end combat power.
At minimum—jōnin.
Anything weaker was a waste.
Low-level ninjutsu didn't interest him either. If he wanted techniques, he could learn directly from Madara.
And despite Madara's arrogance, Akira trusted his word.
That man wouldn't break a promise once it was made.
With that thought, Akira closed his eyes, condensed his chakra, and entered the summoning space.
The moment he arrived—
He froze.
"…Madara?"
The legendary Uchiha Madara, Shura of the Shinobi World…
Was building a house.
No—seriously.
Mountains and rivers stretched endlessly through the summoning space. Birds sang. Flowers bloomed. It was practically a miniature world.
There were even wild animals roaming freely.
Akira had no idea how the system created this place. All he knew was that it was absurdly impressive.
At that moment, Madara had gathered a pile of timber, scorching it carefully with Fire Release. Nearby, a foundation formed through Earth Release.
"…Are you busy?" Akira asked cautiously.
"Hmph! Damn brat!"
Madara was clearly not suited for construction.
He could annihilate armies without blinking—but building a house was another matter entirely.
Back in the day, whenever he traveled with Senju Hashirama, it was Hashirama who handled such things. With a single clap of his hands, entire buildings would rise.
After leaving Konoha, Madara had simply lived in caves.
The environment here was excellent—but there was nowhere to sleep. No roof, no walls.
The sky as a blanket and the ground as a bed had grown tiresome.
So he'd decided to try building a house himself.
And of course, the brat had walked in at exactly this moment.
That look…
He's laughing at me, isn't he?!
I'm the Shura of the Shinobi World! What's strange about building a house?!
"Uh… Madara," Akira said. "If you need anything, you can just tell me. This space belongs to me. I can change the environment easily."
He snapped his fingers.
In the next instant—
A three-story villa materialized out of thin air in front of Madara.
Complete with walls, roof, windows, and a balcony.
Madara stared.
Silent.
Frozen.