Naruto

Naruto doesn’t remember the loneliness. He doesn’t remember the cold stares, the empty apartment, the way the village whispered his name like it was a curse. All of that is gone—sealed away deeper than the Nine-Tails ever was. This time, he wakes up crying in a warm room. Tiny fingers curl around mine, impossibly small, impossibly trusting. His hair is still that same bright blond, sticking up in defiance even as a baby. Some things don’t change. Lady Tsunade’s voice was firm, but there was something uncharacteristically gentle behind it. “Naruto Uzumaki has been given a second chance,” she said, placing the swaddled baby on the desk. The infant stirred, a faint whisker-marked cheek wrinkling as he let out a tiny yawn. “His chakra is the same. His soul is the same. But his memories are sealed—for now.”