Chapter 1: The Fruit That Should Not Appear
Konoha Village.
The golden glow of the setting sun cast a warm light over the Ninja Academy, creating a peaceful and serene atmosphere.
But among the students, there was one boy who didn't quite fit in.
"Clone Jutsu!"
Poof!
A small cloud of white smoke appeared. But when it cleared, there was no clone.
"Failed again..."
A slight bitter smile appeared on Yoruya's face.
He had been in this world for several years now.
This was a world of ninjas. Like many others, he had once dreamed of becoming a genius, shocking the world, and standing above all shinobi.
But reality was harsh.
Extracting chakra was extremely difficult for him, and mastering jutsu was even harder.
His chakra reserves were only a fraction of what kids his age had. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't even perform the most basic techniques properly.
"Even if I train only in taijutsu, there's still the Eight Gates, a forbidden technique that can surpass even Madara in his Six Paths form. But I don't want a fleeting moment of glory... I want lasting power."
Yoruya looked up at the sky with a bit of frustration.
Seriously, could fate stop messing with me?!
"Sigh... Besides, in just two years, the Second Shinobi World War will break out. At that time, even chunin and jonin will struggle to survive, let alone a mere genin."
Yoruya let out another sigh. He had reincarnated into this world just before the Second Shinobi World War. It was a terrible time to be born.
Right now, he was only eight years old.
But he didn't have much time left.
If he didn't gain enough strength in two years, he would be nothing more than cannon fodder when the war started.
And Yoruya had no intention of becoming cannon fodder.
"Forget it, no point thinking about it. I should just go train my taijutsu in the back mountain. Even if I can't use ninjutsu, I won't give up so easily."
Shaking off his thoughts, Yoruya stood up and headed toward the forest behind the school.
As he walked, he could feel the stares of other students.
"I heard that guy still can't use a single jutsu."
"He probably won't even pass the graduation exam."
"As expected of someone from a small ninja village. He'll never compare to us, the geniuses of Konoha."
Whispers filled the air, along with disdainful glances.
Yoruya ignored them completely.
A bunch of brats. Once the war starts in two years, they'll learn what real suffering is.
Still, he had to admit—his luck really wasn't great.
Reincarnating into this world was already bad enough. He would have been fine just living a quiet life as a Konoha ninja. He didn't even need to be born into a great clan like the Senju or Uchiha. Just having a normal family would have been enough.
But no.
He didn't even have a family.
Yoruya wasn't originally from Konoha. He was from a small ninja village.
A village that had been wiped out by Sunagakure, one of the Five Great Shinobi Villages.
He was probably the only survivor. A Konoha ninja had found him and brought him back to the village.
As an outsider, even though he was just a child, he was treated with cold indifference.
But he was used to it.
Arriving at the back mountain, Yoruya walked up to a training post.
The top of the post had a deep dent—proof of the countless times he had kicked and punched it, slowly wearing it down through sheer effort.
Even if he had no talent for ninjutsu, Yoruya never once thought about giving up.
Glancing at the bandages wrapped around his hands and legs, he took a deep breath.
Then—he kicked.
"One, two, three... thirty-five, thirty-six..."
Sweat dripped down his face.
Before long, exhaustion settled into his body. His ankles throbbed, his legs felt heavy, and pain spread through his muscles.
But he gritted his teeth and kept going.
In this empty training ground, as the sky darkened, Yoruya pushed himself harder than anyone else.
If he couldn't use ninjutsu, then taijutsu was his only path. That meant putting in ten times—no, a hundred times—the effort of others.
Huff... huff...
His breathing became ragged, his sweat-soaked clothes clinging to his skin. Droplets of sweat fell onto the ground.
Finally, when his legs went numb and he could barely stand, he stopped.
"Rest a little. Next, five hundred punches... then two hundred side kicks..."
Sitting down, he took a brief moment to catch his breath.
As he looked at the last sliver of sunlight on the horizon, a rare moment of relaxation appeared on his face.
If only life could always be like this—training hard and then enjoying the scenery. But unfortunately, with the Second, Third, and even Fourth Shinobi World Wars looming ahead, peace was impossible.
Just as Yoruya was about to continue training, something caught his eye.
When the last ray of sunlight fell, it cast a strange shadow in the trees.
What's that?
Curious, Yoruya frowned.
The shadow wasn't big—about the size of an apple.
Are there even edible fruits in this forest?
Driven by curiosity, he slowly walked toward it.
As the sky grew darker, Yoruya pulled out a small light tool from his ninja pouch and continued forward.
After walking for a while, he reached a patch of grass.
Then—his expression froze.
His face turned stiff, as if he had seen a ghost.
Clang!
The tool in his hand slipped and fell to the ground.
Darkness swallowed the surroundings.
"T-This is..."
Heart pounding, Yoruya crouched down and fumbled for the light. Once he picked it up, he aimed it at the object hidden in the grass.
His expression remained frozen.
Finally, with careful hands, he picked it up.
It was a strange-looking fruit.
Any normal person in this world would have no idea what it was. They might even assume it was poisonous and throw it away.
But Yoruya wasn't normal.
He had been an anime fan in his past life.
And the moment he saw it, he recognized it instantly.
A Devil Fruit!
"How... how is this possible?!"
Staring at the beautifully patterned fruit in his hands, Yoruya felt his mind go blank.
This made no sense.
A Devil Fruit appearing in the Naruto world?
Could it just be a coincidence? Maybe it's just a regular fruit that happens to look similar?
That thought crossed his mind.
But he immediately shook his head.
No.
It looked too real.
No matter how he looked at it...
This was the real deal.