Chapter 1: The Most Embarrassing Death Ever
If Ren had known that his life would end like this, he would've at least tried to make it look heroic.
Something cool. Something memorable. Something people could talk about like, "Yeah, that guy died saving someone."
But no.
Instead, he was about to become the guy who died while texting.
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The evening air was warm, carrying the usual city noise—cars passing, people talking, distant horns blaring like they always did. Ren stood at the side of the road, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone dangerously close to his face.
His eyes were glued to the screen, completely ignoring the world around him.
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"Bro, if I got reincarnated into Naruto, I'd be OP as hell."
He typed that confidently into the group chat. A small grin appeared on his face as he hit send, already imagining the argument that would follow.
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His friend replied almost instantly.
"You? OP? You'd fail the academy exam."
Another message popped up.
"Forget ninja, you'd trip over your own kunai."
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Ren scoffed, shaking his head slightly as he typed back.
"At least I wouldn't die like some background character."
He smirked to himself, clearly proud of that line. In his mind, he had already won the argument.
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And that's when he stepped forward.
Without looking.
Without thinking.
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A loud horn blasted through the air.
A blinding light rushed toward him.
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Ren looked up.
For a brief moment, his brain stopped working.
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"Oh."
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The truck didn't slow down.
There was no time for dramatic thoughts. No time to regret. No time to run.
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THUD.
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Everything went dark.
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There was no pain.
That was the first thing he noticed.
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There was no body either. No sense of touch, no sense of movement. It felt like he existed… but only as a thought floating in endless darkness.
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"…So I'm dead."
The realization came surprisingly calmly.
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He expected something more dramatic. Maybe fire, maybe light, maybe some god sitting on a throne waiting to judge him.
But there was nothing.
Just silence stretching endlessly.
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"That was so lame…"
If he could sigh, he would have. Out of all possible deaths, he really got taken out by a truck while texting.
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"At least let me finish my argument, man."
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Time passed.
Or maybe it didn't. It was impossible to tell.
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Then suddenly—
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"WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!"
A loud cry shattered the silence.
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Ren froze.
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"…What?"
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He tried to speak again.
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"Waaah… waaah…"
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The sound that came out was not his voice.
It was high-pitched. Weak. Completely unfamiliar.
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Panic crept in slowly.
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He tried to move his arms.
They moved.
But they felt… wrong.
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Small.
Soft.
Uncoordinated.
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"No. No no no no no…"
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His vision slowly cleared, as if a fog was lifting. At first, everything was blurry shapes and colors, but gradually, details began to form.
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A wooden ceiling.
Soft lighting.
The faint smell of herbs and something clean.
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Then a face appeared above him.
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A woman leaned over him, her expression filled with relief and exhaustion.
Her hair was long and dark brown, loosely tied at the back, with several strands falling across her face. Her skin was slightly pale from fatigue, and her eyes—gentle and warm—were focused entirely on him.
She wore a light blue kimono with subtle cloud patterns, the fabric slightly wrinkled as if she hadn't had time to adjust it properly.
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"He's awake…"
Her voice was soft, almost trembling.
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Another figure stepped into view.
He was taller, with broad shoulders and a relaxed but sturdy posture. His black hair was tied back messily, and a faint scar ran across his jaw, giving him a slightly rough appearance.
He wore a dark green shinobi outfit, the kind that looked practical rather than flashy. His sleeves were slightly rolled, and there was a casualness about him, like someone used to movement and action.
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"Took him long enough," he said, crossing his arms.
There was a pause before he added, quieter this time—
"…He looks like you."
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"Of course he does," the woman replied, giving him a tired but amused look.
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Ren stared at them.
Then at his tiny hands.
Then back at them.
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"…Wait."
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His brain finally caught up.
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"New body."
"Baby."
"Strange traditional clothes."
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A slow, terrifying realization formed.
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"…Don't tell me…"
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"IS THIS NARUTO?!"
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His tiny body jerked slightly as he tried to sit up.
It failed instantly.
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He flopped sideways, completely powerless.
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"WHY IS MY BODY NOT LISTENING?!"
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His father blinked, watching him struggle.
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"…Is he broken?"
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His mother immediately frowned.
"He's a newborn!"
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"Yeah, but he just tried to do something."
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"YOU TRY MOVING WITHOUT MUSCLES," Ren screamed internally.
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A few hours later, things had calmed down.
Ren lay wrapped in soft cloth, staring up at the ceiling again, trying to process everything.
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"We should name him," his mother said gently.
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His father looked at him for a moment, as if thinking seriously.
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"Ren," he said finally.
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"Ren…?" she repeated softly.
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"Yeah. Simple. Strong. Easy to shout when he does something stupid."
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She sighed, but there was a small smile on her face.
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"Ren it is."
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"…Great," Ren thought.
"At least my name isn't something weird."
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The next few weeks were… humbling.
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Ren quickly realized something very important:
Being a baby was not fun.
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He couldn't walk. He couldn't talk. He couldn't even control when he slept.
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"This is a downgrade," he thought bitterly.
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Every few hours, without fail, he would be picked up and fed.
At first, he tried to resist.
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"No. No. I refuse—"
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And then—
Warmth.
Comfort.
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"…Okay, maybe not refuse completely."
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He tried to stay awake to think, to plan his future, to analyze the Naruto world.
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He woke up three hours later.
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"WHY DO I KEEP PASSING OUT?!"
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At around three weeks old, he decided to start training.
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"Alright. Step one: move arm properly."
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He focused with all his will.
Slowly, his arm lifted.
It trembled slightly, but it was progress.
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Then suddenly—
THUD.
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His tiny fist hit his own face.
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"…I just punched myself."
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From the side, his parents watched.
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Daichi: "He's doing it again."
Hana: "Don't laugh."
Daichi: "I'm not laughing."
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He was absolutely laughing.
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That night, Ren lay quietly in his crib, staring up at the wooden ceiling.
The world felt strange.
New.
Full of possibilities.
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"Naruto world…"
"Chakra… ninjas… everything…"
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A small grin formed on his face.
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"Alright."
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"This time, I'm not dying like an idiot."
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"I'm going to become something insane."
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And deep within him—
Something waited.
Not power.
Not yet.
But potential.
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