The world felt impossibly large to me, a cascade of greens and browns stretching endlessly into the sky. My small legs stumbled slightly as I kept pace with my mother, Shikane Yamanaka, through the shadowed paths of the Nara Clan Forest. Massive trees towered over us, their canopy filtering sunlight into shifting patterns on the ground. I found myself staring upward, captivated. Were the trees truly this immense, or was it my small stature that made them seem so?
One tree, particularly tall and gnarly, captured my attention. A strange thought crossed my mind. Perhaps the trees weren't naturally this enormous. Maybe it was…magic. No, that wasn't right. The word came to me suddenly: chakra.
I remembered Father calling it that once. A strange, elusive word attached to extraordinary feats. Like the time he caught me mid-fall, seemingly vanishing from one side of the room to the other in a blink. Or the way Mother's shadow stretched unnaturally across the floor, nudging my favorite toy closer to me when I'd thrown a tantrum. If they could do things like that, perhaps these trees, too, were shaped by chakra.
"Are you planning to climb it, Inosei?" my mother's voice broke through my reverie, smooth and lighthearted. I blinked and looked at her, startled.
"No," I said, though my eyes wandered back up the trunk as if to challenge my own statement. "I was just…thinking about trees."
"Thinking about trees, hm?" she echoed, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. She crouched slightly, bringing herself closer to my eye level. "Well, that's a rare pastime. Most boys your age are too busy playing shinobi."
I puffed out my cheeks slightly, both in protest and embarrassment. "I like thinking about things."
"And I like hearing about what you're thinking." She smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Would you like to hear a story about these trees?"
A story? My gaze darted back to the towering woodlands around us, childish curiosity welling up within me. "Yes!"
She led me to a patch of soft moss and sat down, patting the space beside her. I settled in eagerly, my small hands gripping my knees as I looked up at her expectantly.
"Long ago," she began, her voice taking on a lilt that turned her words into music, "this land wasn't always a forest. In fact, it was just like most other places in the Land of Fire—a mix of grasslands, hills, and groves. But then, one man changed everything."
I instinctively leaned forwards, my mind alight and brimming with curiosity. One person had created this massive forest?
Seeing my eagerness, she continued, her eyes glinting with approval. "That man was Hashirama Senju, the First Hokage. He was a man of unmatched strength and kindness, and he had a gift no one else in the world possessed: Wood Release."
I tilted my head, "Wood Release?"
She nodded, her tone growing reverent. "Wood Release is the combination of Water and Earth chakra natures–something you'll learn about in the academy–that allowed him to make trees grow with just a thought. When he and his brother Tobirama, along with their allies, decided to build a village for all shinobi to live in peace, Hashirama used his power to create these forests. He shaped the land, planting trees to shelter and protect the village. It's said that with every wave of his hands, new trees would spring to life, their roots weaving together to form the foundation of Konohagakure, the Village Hidden in the Leaves."
"Will I ever be able to do something like that?" I asked quietly, the question slipping out before I could stop it.
Her expression softened, and before I knew it, her hands were cupping my cheeks, squeezing them as she cooed, "My baby already wants to be a strong shinobi! Oh, Inosei, you'll be the most talented boy in the whole clan! I'm so proud of you already!"
I squirmed, tugging at her hands. "Mooom! Stop!" My protest only earned a louder laugh from her as she hugged me tightly.
Eventually, she relented, releasing me with a kiss on my forehead. "Alright, alright. You're so serious, just like your father."
I huffed, crossing my arms. The corner of her mouth twitched upward in amusement.
"Well, if you're that eager to start, I'll ask your father about beginning chakra exercises soon," she said, ruffling my hair.
I blinked up at her. "Really?"
"Really," she confirmed with a wink. "But remember, Inosei, becoming a strong shinobi starts with patience and discipline. For now, just enjoy the forest."
As I nodded, trying to tamp down my bubbling excitement, a flicker of movement caught my eye. I turned my head sharply, squinting into the shadow-dappled undergrowth. A rustle, almost imperceptible, carried through the stillness. Something was there.
"Mom," I whispered, leaning closer, my voice barely audible. "What's that?"
She followed my gaze, her sharp eyes scanning the direction I pointed. Her lips curved into a small smile, and she placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Look closely," she murmured.
I crouched lower, my heart thudding with the thrill of discovery. Slowly, from between the ferns, emerged a creature with slender legs and a delicate face. Its fur was a soft, tawny brown, speckled with white spots that seemed to mimic the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. A deer. No, not just one—a second, smaller shape followed, sticking close to its side. A fawn.
"The deer…" I breathed, captivated. "They're staring at me."
"They are." my mother said quietly, her voice carrying a note of pride.
I frowned slightly. There was something in their eyes—something almost too knowing. It felt as though they weren't just looking at me, but seeing me. "Mom, are they…normal?"
Her lips quirked into a smile. "They're not ordinary deer, if that's what you mean. The Nara deer are intelligent, far more than they appear. They've been our companions and guardians for as long as our clan has existed. Some say they even have a deep connection to life itself. "
The doe's deep, unblinking eyes met mine, and I felt a strange connection, as if it truly understood me.
"Do they…like me?" I asked.
My mother's lips curled into a knowing smile. "I think they do. Perhaps they sense something special in you."
The deer lingered a moment longer before retreating into the shadows, the fawn following close behind.
That night, as I lay on the comfort of my small futon, the forest and its mysteries lingering in my mind, memories that felt both mine and not mine began to weave their way into my thoughts. Memories from before—hazy and fragmented—had begun to slip into my thoughts over the last year. Sometimes, they came in fleeting impressions: a faint recollection of sitting at a desk, papers scattered across its surface, and a feeling of urgency. Other times, they were more abstract, like the sensation of looking out over an endless city bathed in artificial light. The memories didn't fit with this life, with Inosei Yamanaka. They belonged to someone else.
Someone I used to be.
The memories were growing clearer, and with them came a distinct unease. They didn't belong to a child of this world, to the boy lying under a woven blanket in the quiet Yamanaka household. They were too sharp, too expansive, filled with thoughts and concepts that had no place in a shinobi village. I knew, deep down, they were mine, but they weren't mine here.
Who had I been? A name lingered on the edge of my thoughts, elusive and frustrating. I couldn't grasp it yet, but it didn't matter. What did matter was the weight of the knowledge trickling into my mind like droplets of rain into a vast, growing pool. Physics, literature, and technology far beyond anything in this world flickered behind my eyelids as I closed them.
With visions of vast, metallic cities stretching for hundreds of miles, ships soaring gracefully through the skies, and intricate networks of machines uniting people across the globe, I let my thoughts carry me gently into sleep.