Chapter 2- In a new world
Getting transmigrated wasn’t the best experience. I was all dizzy, so I did the best thing I could think of — sleep. Leave the worrying for the sober me.
Waking up was surprisingly normal. No weird dreams. No sudden power surges. Just... waking up. Light filtered in through the wooden blinds and hit my eyes at an annoying angle, and I groaned like a man three times my current age.
I sat up, scratching my head. Still a kid. Still in Naruto. So it wasn’t all a dream... I was half-wishing it might be, but I guess this isn’t too bad. My room looked... okay. Tatami floors, small desk, old books on a shelf, a closet with clothes neatly folded by someone who clearly wasn’t me. It wasn’t opulent, but it fit the whole Japanese minimalist aesthetic.
’So this is the standard orphan package, huh? Not bad.’
I got dressed — simple shirt and pants, no clan symbols or edgy black cloaks — and stepped outside the bedroom. The mansion was quiet. Predictably empty. Just me.
Standing in front of the mirror, I started thinking about my new life.
Apparently, I wasn’t just born in Konoha. I had a bit of backstory too. My "father" had been a merchant. Not a big shot, but he moved goods for decent profit — apparently dealing in ninja tools. My "mother" had been a chūnin, which was slightly more impressive, but nothing elite.
They died a couple of years ago on some mission-accident combo, vague enough to not matter and convenient enough to avoid emotional baggage. An escort mission gone wrong. Of course the client was my father himself. The reason I still have this mansion and all the inheritance they left. Konoha knew it was in the wrong, so they didn’t confiscate anything. Good for me, I guess.
Still, they’d left behind quite a bit. Enough to pay for my life until I’m old enough to earn on my own — maybe even start a business if I’m smart about it.
Which meant I wasn’t poor.
And in any world, not poor is a huge win.
I made a quick breakfast — rice, eggs, and miso — because apparently, my six-year-old hands had some muscle memory for basic kitchen work. Once I was done eating, I cleaned up, locked the door, and headed out.