Consciousness returned slowly, rising through a haze of heaviness and throbbing pain. Ishiki's eyelids fluttered open to a blinding stretch of brilliant blue sky, impossibly wide and endlessly calm.
He lay on his back in a bed of tall, swaying grass. The scent of crushed greenery filled his lungs. A gentle breeze brushed his cheek. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance.
It felt so peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Which was strange, because the last thing he remembered was,
A fireball.A roaring flame.A death he could not outrun.
He pushed himself up on one elbow, blinking at the pastoral scenery. A vast green field spread in every direction, untouched and serene. Yet despite the beauty, his body felt wrong, empty, drained, hollowed out from the inside.
His limbs trembled as if something had sucked every drop of energy from him.
"What… happened?"
His whisper was swallowed by the wind. But the fragmented memories came crashing through the silence, cold and merciless.
The fight.The fireball was flying straight at him.His panic.The red cape appeared from nowhere.The impossible rebound.And then,Darkness.
"How did I… how did I block that fireball?""And why did I faint right after? What was that red cloth?"
Before he could chase the swirling questions, something shimmered in the air.
A translucent, glowing blue panel materialised in front of him, floating, holographic, undeniable.
A system panel.
Ishiki's eyes widened.
Then,
A giant grin broke across his face.
"Finally…!" he breathed. "The golden finger. The cheat. God really did give me one!"
Relief washed through him like warm water. He wasn't powerless. He wasn't doomed to remain a weak civilian in a murderous era. He had a system, the dream of every reincarnator.
He focused on the display.
STATUS
Name: Ishiki
Age: 12
Chakra: 1 / 6
Strength: 3
His smile strained. "Wow. I'm… pathetic."
No matter how he spun it, the stats painted an ugly truth: he was barely stronger than a dying rabbit. Chakra capacity is lower than a toddler. Strength wis eaker than a farmhand. A body so frail he could probably lose to a stiff breeze.
Still, weakness was acceptable.
The weak could become strong.
His attention dropped to a blinking tab labelled PROPS.
He willed it open.
The screen shifted to a grid of item silhouettes. Most were greyed out, locked with faint metallic tones. Only one glowed brightly, pulsing with availability:
Reverse Cloak
Ishiki clicked it.
A pop-up appeared:
INSUFFICIENT CHAKRA — Requires 5 Chakras to activate
His eyes widened.
"So that's why I passed out… I burned my entire chakra reserve in one go."
He pulled up the item description.
Reverse Cloak
A gadget from the 22nd-century future cat, Doraemon. When held and waved in front of any projectile, physical, elemental, or energy-based, it instantly reverses the object's momentum, sending the attack back to its source, often with amplified force.
Ishiki blinked.
Then whispered:
"…Doraemon."
Understanding snapped into place like puzzle pieces falling together.
All his props, the panel items, the gadgets, they weren't random tools.They were Doraemon's futuristic devices, the cheats of childhood imagination brought into a world of death.
He didn't remember every gadget's exact function, but he knew one thing:They were each terrifyingly powerful.
Reality-warping.Physics-breaking.Impossible.
Toy-like in appearance, universe-breaking in effect.
His chest tightened with awe and possibility.
"With this system…""With even a fraction of Doraemon's props…"
His hand curled into a fist.
"I won't just survive. I'll change this world. I'll protect the people who can't protect themselves. I'll build the peaceful village I always dreamed of."
For the first time since reincarnating, hope surged strongly and brightly.
Then,
The grass rustled.
Approaching footsteps.Raised voices.
He turned.
And froze.
Two boys approached him, boys he had seen earlier. The ones whose careless sparring nearly ended his life.
"You're finally awake!" one shouted.
Ishiki's expression darkened instantly. He forced himself upright despite the pounding ache in his head.
"You two, " he snapped, anger breaking through the daze. "Do you have ANY idea what you did?! You almost killed me!"
They halted before him.
Both boys had jet-black hair and sharp, intelligent eyes, though their expressions couldn't be more different.
The first had a bowl-cut and warm, round features. Remorse softened his gaze.
The other wore his hair long and wild, with a glare sharp enough to cut.
The bowl-cut boy bowed deeply.
"We are so sorry!" he said, voice filled with shame. "We didn't see you in the bushes. Please forgive us!"
The wild-haired boy clicked his tongue and crossed his arms.
"Relax, Hashirama," he scoffed, flicking his gaze dismissively at Ishiki. "He didn't die. What's the problem?"
"Madara!" Hashirama whipped his head around, outrage blazing across his face. "How can you say that?! We nearly killed a civilian! Apologise right now!"
Ishiki froze.
He went still, absolutely still.
Not because of Madara's arrogance.Not because of Hashirama's kindness.
But because of their names.
Hashirama.Madara.
The world tilted.
His breath caught.
His heart thudded painfully hard.
No.No way.It couldn't be,Yet everything fit.
The appearance.The power.
These weren't random boys.
They were the two future gods of the Shinobi world.
Hashirama Senju, First Hokage.Madara Uchiha, the man who would change the world.
Standing right in front of him.
Young.Raw.Untamed.
And he had nearly died because of their childish sparring.
Ishiki stared at them, shock rippling through his body like a storm.
He had wanted power.He had wanted purpose.He had wanted a chance to make a change.
And fate had placed him directly in front of the two boys who would one day reshape the entire world.
For better or worse.
Madara raised an eyebrow at his stunned expression.
"What?" he scoffed. "Why are you looking at us like that?"
But Ishiki barely heard him.
Because there was only one thought echoing through his mind:
I'm standing before the founders of the future.