The sun was dipping low by the time Jin made it back to the Nara compound. The walk home had taken longer than usual, but that was mostly his fault. Every few minutes he'd stop, focus, and feel for that faint, tingling current that he now knew was chakra. Each time it stirred under his skin, the faint blue shimmer of his system interface flickered at the edge of his vision.
[CC +1 → D+]
A soft chime echoed in his head, followed by that familiar text floating in front of him. He grinned despite himself.
"Guess practice really does make progress," he muttered.
By the time the trees thinned and the tall wooden gates of the Nara compound came into view, dusk had settled. Two guards stood at the entrance, both wearing the standard flak vests of the Hidden Leaf. They looked relaxed—like all Nara did—but one still gave Jin a small nod of recognition.
"Evening, Jin," one of them greeted.
"Evening," Jin replied, raising a hand. "Uncle's still out?"
"Yeah, mission in the west sector. Should be back in a few days," the guard said before waving him through.
The compound was quiet as always—narrow dirt paths winding between mossy walls, faint smoke rising from chimneys, and the distant hum of village life beyond the gates. Somewhere far off, past the edge of Konoha, lay the Nara clan's forest—where the deer roamed freely under the watch of the clan's caretakers. The Nara grounds themselves were peaceful, filled with open courtyards and shaded gardens. Too peaceful, Jin thought, for a kid who'd just woken up in a new world.
As he walked, the memories of the original Jin trickled in, surfacing slowly like bubbles from deep water. Jin Nara—the boy whose life he'd now taken over—had been an orphan. His parents had died when he was too young to remember, and his uncle had taken him in. The man was a shinobi, usually away on missions, while his aunt stayed home tending to the deer and collecting shed antlers in the Nara forest.
The memories felt heavy and distant, not his, yet painfully real. Even with how kind his aunt was, the old Jin had grown up quiet, detached. Always in his own head. Always lazy, like every Nara before him.
By the time he reached his house—a modest wooden home near the outer edge of the compound—the lamps were unlit, and the air inside felt still. He peeked inside, calling out, "Auntie?"
No answer. Just the faint smell of tea and dried herbs.
He sighed. "Figures."
If his uncle was away and his aunt was still in the forest, that meant the house was his for the moment. And that gave him an idea.
He stepped out back into the yard. The small patch of grass there opened into a training space marked by a few old wooden posts. Jin cracked his knuckles, grinning to himself.
"Alright, let's see how this system thing really works."
He remembered how easily his Chakra Control stat had risen before, but the second increase had taken more time. Maybe, he thought, the higher his stats were, the harder it'd get to improve them. It only made sense—just like leveling up in a game.
"Then if I want to get stronger, I've gotta train like crazy while the ranks are low."
His eyes landed on the narrow dirt path circling the house. Running seemed like a good place to start. If he could push both AGI and PHY at the same time, it'd be efficient.
Simple. Painful. But efficient.
He crouched low and took off.
The first few seconds felt great. His feet pounded against the ground, his breath steady, his hair whipping in the breeze. But by the thirty-second mark, his lungs were burning, his legs felt heavy, and the air tore at his throat.
He slowed to a jog, gasping.
"What the hell—why am I this weak?"
Then it hit him—the memory of a lazy boy who never trained a day in his life. The legendary Nara trait.
"Right… laziness," he groaned.
But quitting wasn't an option. Not anymore. Not when he knew what kind of world he was in. The world of shinobi was beautiful, yes—but it was also brutal.
He forced his legs to keep moving, even as his chest screamed for air.
By the ten-minute mark, his run had turned into a staggering shuffle. Sweat dripped from his chin, his vision blurred, and his breaths came out in broken gasps.
Still, he didn't stop.
The system didn't reward him right away, but that was fine. He wasn't chasing instant results anymore—he was building habits.
When he finally collapsed, 20 minutes later, it was in the middle of the yard, face-up, chest heaving, staring at the darkening sky.
As soon as he went down a woman's voice called from the front door.
"Jin? I'm home!"
It was his aunt, her tone light and familiar. "Sorry I wasn't able to pick you up from the academy, one of the deer got a bit too excited."
She entered, setting a woven basket of herbs on the kitchen table. "You wouldn't believe the trouble—"
Her words stopped when she looked out the window. Jin was lying in the dirt, clothes streaked with sweat and soil, eyes half-lidded as he tried to catch his breath.
"…what in the world," she murmured, stepping outside quickly.
"Jin! Are you alright?"
He tilted his head weakly toward her, too tired to move. "Water," he croaked.
She blinked. "Water?"
He nodded, forcing a small grin. "Thirsty."
With a sigh somewhere between concern and exasperation, she helped him sit up and ushered him inside. "Honestly, what were you doing out there? You look like you've been running for your life."
"Just… training," he said between gulps of water.
"Training?" She raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you train? You barely even like walking to the academy."
He paused, realizing he needed an excuse fast. "Thought I'd… try not to embarrass myself in class anymore."
She smiled faintly. "Well, that's new. But maybe don't kill yourself doing it, alright?"
He laughed weakly. "Yeah. No promises."
As she tidied the table, Jin leaned on the counter, mind spinning. He needed to sound normal, like the old Jin, not someone with the memories of a different world. He decided to change the subject.
"Auntie," he said suddenly, "what's the deal with that kid… Naruto? Why does everyone hate him?"
She froze for a moment, her hand pausing mid-wipe. The shift in her expression was subtle but sharp.
"Why are you asking about him?"
"I just see people yelling at him a lot," Jin said quickly. "Sometimes chasing him. I don't get it."
Her eyes softened, but her voice lowered. "Listen, Jin… some things are better left alone. That boy's had a rough life, and people can be cruel. But it's not your concern, alright? Just… stay away from him."
Jin nodded, but inside, something twisted.
She patted his head gently, forcing a smile. "Go get cleaned up. You're covered in dirt."
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Sure."
He headed down the hall to the small bathroom, letting the warm water wash away the grime and exhaustion. His reflection stared back from the fogged mirror—a child's face, faintly unfamiliar, but with eyes that didn't belong to him.
As he dried off and stepped into his room, the soft hum of the system flickered back to life. The faint blue text shimmered before fading again, like a quiet reminder that he wasn't just some kid anymore.
He sat on the edge of his bed, looking out the window at the village lights in the distance. The world outside was peaceful, but he knew what was coming—wars, pain, people dying too young. Naruto might have been the protagonist of the show he once watched, but here, he was just a lonely kid hated for something he never chose.
"If everyone's going to hate him," Jin muttered, tightening his fists, "then someone's gotta help him survive it."
The system pulsed faintly again, as if approving the thought.
[Quest Added: ???]
He smiled. "Guess that's a start."
And for the first time since waking up in this strange, dangerous world, Jin felt like he had a purpose.