When I was taken out of the destroyed village, I knew it wasn't just an evacuation. It was the beginning of a new life. I wasn't saved out of pity. I was alive, and it was a chance. I would use it, because survival is what matters, not whining about the past.
I didn't miss it. I didn't grieve. All these bodies are just an unfortunate mistake, a weakness. My parents? I wasn't attached to them. They gave me life, but not strength. So what? I wanted more. I always knew that everything would depend only on me.
The patrol from Konoha walked in silence. Three shinobi in masks. They didn't ask unnecessary questions, but I felt their gazes. They were analyzing me. Weighing me. They weren't kind. Most likely, they noticed my hair and thought about how to use me.
The road was long. We made our way through the forests, winding. Sometimes I heard the sounds of animals, the rustle of the wind, felt the cold. I didn't complain. I didn't whine. I remembered. Every step. Every look. Every word.
The shinobi world is cruel. And I knew how it works. I knew that strength is everything. That the weak die. That friendship is just a temporary convenience. I remembered how it all ended in anime. I knew how to become the one who will not be touched. And I had already started this path.
Konoha appeared on the horizon suddenly. Majestic. Hidden behind massive gates. But I knew that behind these walls there was intrigue, blood and secrets. I did not admire. I was ready.
The shinobi led me through the gate. It was noisy inside - merchants, children, ordinary people. And shinobi. Everywhere. I watched carefully. Who moved how, who spoke to whom. Faces, gaits, expressions. Everything mattered.
They took me to the hospital. The building was clean, white, with the smell of medicine. There was silence inside, broken only by the rustling of papers and the occasional instructions from the senior medics.
"Examination. Tests. Quickly," the kunoichi in the lab coat said, not looking at me.
They took blood. Checked my vision, chakra, general condition of my body. I was silent. I answered only when asked. Calmly. Coldly. Too cold-blooded for a five-year-old? Perhaps. But I don't care. Let it bother them.
I noticed one of the medics frowning as he looked at the data. Then another one came up. Whispers. I caught the words: "chakra unstable," "vortex structure," "is this… Uzumaki trait?"
Excellent. So, there's movement.
One of the medics left. The second one stayed and glanced at me, almost cautiously. I responded in kind. Let them guess who I am.
I sat waiting for almost an hour. Alone. In silence. But not without reason - I was thinking. What if they confirm the origin? The Uzumaki clan did not just disappear from this world. Their power is their curse. I can be used. Or killed. Or... trained. The latter is preferable.
When the shinobi returned, he looked tense.
- The Hokage wants to talk to you. Let's go.
Old man? Good. Let him look me in the eyes.
We walked through the streets. Glances - some with interest, some with pity. Children pointed. Adults frowned. I am an unknown. I am a survivor. But this is temporary. Soon I will become someone they will truly fear.
The Hokage building was large, but old. I was led to the reception area. An ANBU was waiting there. He said nothing, just nodded and led me on. I could feel the tension in the air. Something was being decided. Something important.
The Hokage's office was quiet. The old man looked out the window, his back to me.
"You survived. That already makes you strong," he said without turning around.
I didn't answer.
He turned around.
"You have Uzumaki genes. We can't ignore that. You'll live here. You've been assigned a room in the dorm. In a month, you'll start studying at the academy."
I nodded. Inside, there was no joy, no fear. Only cold satisfaction. Everything was going as it should.
"What's your name?"
I smiled faintly:
"Ren, let it be Ren."
The Hokage nodded. He understood. Or pretended to. I didn't care.