Konoha.
In a quiet corner of the village, an old, slightly worn courtyard sat bathed in the warmth of summer.
"Xia Ji, today's the first day of school. Don't cry."
A woman's voice rang out, soft but tinged with reluctant worry.
"Don't worry, Mother, I won't."
The boy Xia Ji—looked slightly helpless as his mother clung to his hand and the hem of his clothes, as though he might run away at any moment.
Well, to be fair… he had cried once. When he was born. But that was just nature's way—if a baby didn't cry at birth, something was wrong.
Since then, Xia Ji had never cried again. It wasn't that he was cold-hearted, but unless it was a matter of pure biology, he had no reason to. And even if he'd tried to hold it in at birth, the medical staff wouldn't have let him.
His mother, Sinai, looked at him with reluctant affection. Raising a child alone was never easy, but Xia Ji had always been independent—helping with small chores and never causing trouble. That reliability eased her burdens, but it also made her feel she'd missed something. Other mothers had clingy, mischievous children; hers had grown up too sensible, too soon.
"Come back early after school," she said at last, sighing softly.
"Alright, Mother. But if you don't let go now, I'll be late."
With a final squeeze, she released him. She had wanted to take the day off to walk him to the academy, but Xia Ji refused—he already knew the way and had visited many times before.
Besides, she had work. In a household of just mother and son, someone had to keep food on the table.
Xia Ji was six years old, the child of a single-parent family. His father, a mid-ranked ninja, had died on a mission before he was born. According to his father's teammates, he'd been working himself to exhaustion to earn money for his unborn child, and fatigue had cost him his life.
Sinai had once been a kunoichi, but only at the lowest rank. After marrying, she had left the shinobi life behind. When Xia Ji was born, she took whatever work she could find. Her skills, honed from her ninja days, kept her ahead of ordinary villagers, and after some lean years, their lives had finally steadied.
As for Xia Ji—he wasn't just any boy. He was a transmigrator, one who had arrived before he even left the womb.
When he realized he'd been reborn into the world of Naruto, he'd accepted it without much fuss. In his past life, he'd had no real family and few attachments—only a small regret that he'd never been able to repay the kindness shown to him. He'd watched Naruto before, though lazily, skipping arcs and forgetting details. His knowledge was incomplete, but better than nothing.
Then there was the matter of the "golden finger" most transmigrators possessed. After six years of waiting, Xia Ji had been forced to admit he had none. His only advantages were his fragmented knowledge of the future and a slightly stronger soul—enough to give him sharper memory, though far from photographic.
His bloodline? Completely ordinary. No Uchiha eyes, no Uzumaki vitality, no Senju constitution.
That part gave him a headache. He still wanted to become a ninja—how could he not, after ending up in this world? But without talent, special lineage, or a golden finger, survival would be entirely up to him.
Still, he supposed he was lucky not to be born an Uchiha. He was the same age as Naruto, and without any cheats, being in that clan would have been a death sentence.
For six years, he'd been preparing. Without chakra, he couldn't practice jutsu, but he could still train his body. Since he was young and didn't want to harm his growth, he kept the exercises light—focusing mainly on finger dexterity to improve hand seal speed. From infancy, he had worked at it with single-minded determination.
Now, he could manage roughly three seals per second without chakra. Once he learned to mold chakra, he was confident he could go even faster.
Before long, Xia Ji arrived at his classroom door.
He took a deep breath. He had done all he could in preparation; the academy years would be his time to quietly build strength. For someone like him, there would only be one path forward—relentless effort. And he had a specific goal for this stage of his life.
The teacher hadn't arrived yet. The room was noisy, filled with laughter, chatter, and even the occasional sob. Xia Ji spotted a few familiar faces—thankfully, he'd been placed in Naruto Uzumaki's class under Iruka's care.
Choosing a random seat, he sat down and began running through hand seals under the desk.
The door slid open.
A boy with short blond hair, whisker-like marks on his cheeks, and bright, fox-like eyes stepped inside. His gaze swept over the room—until it landed on Xia Ji.
His expression lit up instantly.
Because he had seen Xia Ji.