The evening air in the park was cool and carried the fresh, earthy smell of grass after a light rain. For Vikram, it was the first time in seven years that he felt like he could actually breathe. The heavy weight that had been sitting on his chest for so long was finally gone. Every breath felt clean, like he was starting over. He adjusted his silk tie with a small smile, feeling the smooth fabric of his new formal shirt. It was 2026, and against all the odds, he had finally made it.
As he walked along the path, his mind went back to the summer of 2019. He had graduated with a degree in Applied Physics from a great university. Back then, his head was filled with formulas and theories about how energy and electricity worked. He had been so full of hope, ready to find a job that would make his parents proud and show the world what he could do. But then 2020 came, and everything just stopped.
The COVID-19 lockdown changed his life in an instant. The job offers he had worked so hard for were simply cancelled. Companies stopped hiring, and the emails he sent out went into a void where nobody ever answered. What was supposed to be a few weeks of staying home turned into months of being stuck inside, and eventually, years of painful silence. He remembered sitting in his small bedroom, staring at the walls until he knew every tiny crack in the paint. He felt like a powerful machine that had been turned off and left to rust in a corner.
He quickly learned that society could be very harsh. He remembered the whispers of the neighbors whenever he went out to buy groceries or milk. He would walk past the aunties standing by the gates, and he could hear the mean things they said about him.
"Poor Sharma ji," one would say, making sure he was close enough to hear. "His son is just sitting at home all day, isn't he? They spent so much money on his coaching and that big degree, and for what? My nephew just opened a small shop and is already making more money than a college graduate."
Then there were the "well-meaning" uncles who would call his father just to "check in." Their loud voices would come through the phone speaker in the quiet house. "Arre, Sharma, why isn't the boy working yet? At his age, I was already taking care of my parents and my sisters. You shouldn't be so soft on him. A man needs to be out working, not sitting in a room with his nose in a book."
Each comment felt like a sharp needle being pressed into his skin. The depression that followed was like a dark, quiet hole. It wasn't a sudden fall; it was a slow, daily sinking into the mud. He felt like a ghost in his own house, someone who just used up food and electricity without giving anything back. He stopped looking in mirrors because he couldn't stand the sight of the disappointment in his own eyes.
But his parents never joined the people judging him. They were the only ones who stayed by his side while everything else was falling apart. When he felt like a complete failure, his father didn't give him long lectures or show disappointment. He remembered a Tuesday afternoon in 2023, the lowest point of his life, when his father walked into his room and placed a heavy bag on his desk. Inside was a brand-new set of thick books for the CAT exam.
"A mind like yours shouldn't stay idle, Vikram," his father said, his voice calm and steady. "The world took a break, but you don't have to. Take your time and study again. I believe in you more than I believe in the job market."
And his mother was just as supportive. She never asked for big titles or lots of money. She just made sure his favorite food was ready whenever he needed a break from studying. She would sit with him in the living room in the evenings, not saying anything, just being there so he wouldn't feel so alone. Their love didn't depend on how much money he made, and that was the only thing that kept him going.
Their faith finally paid off. He put all his frustration into those books and passed his exams in 2024. By 2026, he had finished his MBA and got a great job at a big company. The long struggle was finally over. He was finally going to be the one taking care of them. He planned to buy his mother the gold bangles she had sold to pay for his school, and he wanted to take his father on that trip to the mountains they had talked about for years.
He was busy thinking about his first paycheck when he got to the edge of the park. The traffic was heavy and loud. He saw a truck speeding toward the intersection, its engine roaring with scary speed. Then, he saw her.
An elderly woman, holding a heavy shopping bag, was halfway across the road. She had missed the light, and the truck was coming at her so fast that the driver probably hadn't even seen her. She looked up, her eyes wide and frozen, like she was paralyzed by the bright lights.
Vikram didn't think about his degree, his new job, or his future. He didn't think about his nice tie or the life he had finally rebuilt. He just ran. He lunged forward as fast as he could, grabbed the woman's shoulders, and shoved her with all the strength he had.
She tumbled safely onto the curb, her shopping bag breaking and spilling oranges all over the street.
Then the truck hit him. It was a loud, heavy thud that shook his whole body. A flash of terrible, burning pain exploded in his chest, and then everything suddenly went cold. Vikram hit the ground, and the rough feel of the road was the last thing he felt against his face. As the world started to get dark and the sounds of the street faded away, one painful thought filled his mind.
I didn't even get to help them. I'm dying without paying my parents back for everything they did for me. I wanted to be the one supporting them for once. I wanted them to finally be able to rest. Mom... Dad... I'm so sorry I'm leaving you like this.
"That is a very sad thought to leave the world with," a voice said. It wasn't loud, but it was so clear that it sounded like a bell in a quiet room.
Vikram opened his eyes. He wasn't on the road anymore. There was no blood, no pain, and no loud noises. He was standing in a place that felt huge but peaceful. It looked like a giant, quiet library that went on forever into a soft, golden mist. Sitting in a simple wooden chair was a man who looked like a kind grandfather who had just finished working in a garden. He was wearing simple white clothes.
"Am I... really dead?" Vikram asked. His voice sounded different here, clearer and not full of the worry he usually felt.
"Yes, you are," the man replied gently, pointing to a chair that appeared out of the mist. "I am what you would call God. You did a very brave thing today, Vikram. Most people look for reasons to look away, but you didn't."
Vikram didn't feel brave. He just felt empty. He ignored the chair and stepped closer, his voice shaking. "My parents. Please. They spent seven years worrying about me. They stayed by me through the lockdown and the hard times. Now that I finally have a job, I'm gone. It will break their hearts. Can you do something? Anything?"
God looked at him for a long time. "I have a reward for you, Vikram. Because of your good heart and the way you sacrificed yourself, I can let you be born again. You can go to any world you want, and you will remember everything from your life. It is a gift very few people ever get."
Vikram was shocked, but the offer didn't make him happy. His mind went straight back to the small apartment and the two people who were about to get the worst news of their lives.
"Instead of that," Vikram said, his voice very quiet, "can I trade it? I don't need a second life. I just want my parents to have a happy, peaceful life. I want them to be okay without me. I want them to have enough money so they never have to worry again, and I want them to feel peace instead of sadness. If you can give them that, you can take the chance to be born again back."
God leaned back in his chair, a warm, real smile on his face. He looked truly impressed. "You would give up a second life, a new start in any world you can imagine, just to make sure they are okay? Most people who stand here are much more selfish. They ask for power or money for themselves."
"They were my whole world when everyone else turned their back on me," Vikram said simply. "I don't need a new life if it means they spend their old age in pain."
"Because you are willing to give up your own future for them," God said, standing up and placing a hand on Vikram's shoulder, "I will give you both. Your parents will live long, happy lives. They will feel a strange peace, and they will always be proud of you. And because your heart is so good, I am still going to give you that chance to start over. Now, tell me, where would you like to go? Think of a place that made you feel strong when you were at your lowest."
Vikram let out a long breath. All the stress of his old life finally disappeared. During the long, lonely months of the lockdown, when he felt like he was trapped in his room, he had found comfort in the story of Naruto. He had watched that boy struggle against a village that hated him, and he watched him never give up. It had been the only thing that helped him survive.
"The world of Naruto," Vikram said, his eyes finally showing some hope. "The Hidden Eddy village. Uzushiogakure. I want to be part of the Uzumaki clan."
"A dangerous choice," God said with a small smile. "That village has a very sad history. When would you like to arrive?"
"Fifteen years before the Second Shinobi World War," Vikram answered immediately. He knew the story well. He knew the destruction that was coming for the Uzumaki. He wanted time to grow strong. He wanted to use what he knew about physics, how energy and forces work, to master the complicated sealing arts of his clan. He wanted to save them.
God nodded, and his body began to glow with a soft white light. "A physicist in a world where you can shape energy with your mind. That will be something to see. Go on then, little one. Build something that lasts this time."
A blinding white light covered everything.
The next thing Vikram felt was a sudden, intense warmth. Then came a crushing pressure that made him want to scream, but his lungs felt tight. He pushed until the pressure suddenly stopped, and he was being held by hands that felt very soft. He tried to speak, but only a tiny, high-pitched cry came out.
He struggled to open his eyes. Everything was blurry, but then he saw a shock of bright, vibrant red hair. A woman was holding him. Her face was pale and she looked tired, but her eyes were full of a love that felt stronger than anything he had ever known.
The room was simple, made of wood and stone, and it smelled of the ocean. Outside the window, he could hear the loud, powerful sound of the waves. This was Uzushiogakure.
A man walked over. He had the same deep red hair and a kind face. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, but as he looked at Vikram, his eyes filled with tears. He leaned over and kissed the woman's forehead very gently.
"He's perfect, Akane," the man said softly.
"He is," Akane whispered, rocking the baby gently. "He looks just like you, Arata. Our little miracle."
Arata smiled and touched the baby's tiny hand. Vikram felt a strange, familiar warmth, the same kind of love he had felt from his parents back in India. He let his tiny fingers curl around his father's hand. The man's hand was strong and rough, the hand of a fighter, but he held Vikram so carefully.
Arata looked out the window at the swirling water of the Whirlpool Country, then back at his son. "The world is changing, Akane. Things are getting dangerous. But he will be the one to lead us through the coming storms. His name shall be Arashi."