It had been three months since Minato Namikaze, the four-year-old boy, had woken up to memories of his past life as the Fourth Hokage. In these three months, his existence had transformed, a blend of childhood innocence and a developing, extraordinary potential.
The transparent blue screen, his secret guide, now proudly displayed MINATO NAMIKAZE TEMPLATE - 5%. The increase from 2% was slow but steady, a testament to his consistent training. And with that increase came new knowledge, flowing directly into his mind: chakra molding, the intricate art of shaping his internal energy; how to control chakra, the precise movements and focus required; the complex series of hand seals used for various techniques; and even advanced techniques like tree climbing and water walking, though he hadn't yet attempted them. He was still diligently performing his daily physical exercises in the park, feeling his small body gradually strengthen.
His morning training with Touya had become a cornerstone of his routine. For two relentless months, Minato's cheerful persistence had chipped away at Touya's gruff exterior. He'd pestered, he'd laughed, he'd endured the older boy's terse "no" and "I don't want to." But then, one crisp morning, after an especially long bout of Minato's unwavering presence, Touya finally relented. He not only used his full name, but he also started to open up about his family.
Minato listened, his heart aching for the boy's pain, the relentless pressure from his father, Endeavor, to surpass All Might. He saw the fire in Touya's blue eyes, but also the self-destructive obsession.
"Touya-san," Minato had said softly, his voice surprisingly mature for his age. "What use is getting acknowledged by your father if you end up hurting yourself? Think about the pain you'll cause your mother." He paused, letting his words sink in. "Even if you do get acknowledged, nothing special will happen to you. You won't get a reward for it. Instead of trying to please someone who doesn't seem to care about you, try and make your mom happy, the one who's truly worried about you."
Touya stood frozen, his eyes wide, as Minato's words echoed in his ears. The small boy, barely reaching his waist, had hit a nerve so raw, so deeply buried, that it felt like a fresh wound. Pain... my mother? The thought had always been there, a faint, nagging whisper beneath the roar of his ambition and frustration, but no one had ever articulated it to him so simply, so directly.
His usual retort, a sharp dismissal, died on his tongue. He wanted to rage, to lash out, to tell this irritatingly cheerful child to mind his own business. But the truth in Minato's voice, the genuine concern, pierced through his defenses. He thought of his mother, her tired eyes, the way she worried, the way she tried to mediate between him and Endeavor, always with a tremor in her voice. He thought of the burns, the self-inflicted damage, the desperate chase for a recognition that always seemed to slip away.
He clenched his fists, his blue flames flaring hotter for a moment before he forced them down. The argument he usually put up, the defiance he showed to everyone, felt hollow. Minato was right. What was the point? What would he gain? Just more pain, more frustration, and a mother consumed by worry.
Touya slowly turned his head to look at Minato, who was now meticulously training, completely unbothered by the heavy silence he had created. A strange mix of annoyance and grudging respect flickered in Touya's blue eyes. He took a deep, shaky breath, the fire in his chest still simmering, but now a new, unsettling heat was mixing with it—the heat of self-reflection.
He didn't say anything more that morning. He just stood there, watching Minato, a new and uncomfortable seed planted in his mind. The obsessive drive that had consumed him for years had a tiny, almost imperceptible crack.
After their morning training session, which continued with Touya in a more subdued, thoughtful mood, Minato headed home to prepare for school. Once he arrived at school and settled into his classroom with Mina and Kirishima, the morning lessons passed by quickly.
Just before the lunch bell, the teacher clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Alright, class, listen up! I have an important announcement."
A hush fell over the room.
"This year, our school will be hosting its very first Talent Show!" she announced, a bright smile on her face. Murmurs of excitement immediately filled the room. "It will be a wonderful opportunity for all of you to showcase your unique talents, whether it's singing, dancing, playing an instrument, or anything else!"
Minato's eyes lit up, his mind immediately going to the guitar he now had.
The teacher continued, "If you're interested in participating, please come and give your names to me during lunch break. We encourage everyone to give it a try!"
As soon as the bell rang for lunch, Minato, Mina, and Kirishima huddled together.
"A talent show!" Mina bounced in her seat. "I wonder what I could do! Maybe a cool dance with my acid!"
Kirishima grinned. "That's awesome! I can just harden myself and do some poses, super manly, right?" He flexed his arm, which briefly hardened.
Minato, however, had a different idea. He thought about his guitar. He'd been practicing, slowly figuring out chords and simple melodies. "I think I will be playing my guitar," he said, a determined glint in his sunny eyes. "I just got one."
Mina gasped. "You play guitar, Minato?! That's so cool!"
"Yeah, that's pretty manly, Minato!" Kirishima added. "You should definitely sign up!"
Minato nodded, a new goal now firmly in his sights. He would work hard on his guitar, and maybe, just maybe, show everyone what he could do.
"But wait," Mina said, her pink brows furrowing. "If you just got it, how are you going to play something for the show?"
"Yeah, the talent show isn't for a while, right?" Kirishima chimed in, thinking aloud. "You'll have time to practice, Minato!"
Minato's smile widened. "Oh, I know how to play it! My fingers are still a little small, but I'll get there!" He held up his tiny hands, wiggling his fingers.
"You're really serious about it, aren't you?" Mina observed, impressed by his dedication. "That's awesome! What kind of songs do you want to play?"
"Hmm, I haven't decided yet," Minato replied, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Maybe something fast and exciting, or something really calm. I'll need to find some good practice songs."
Kirishima nodded. "You should pick something that shows off your manly spirit!"
The conversation continued with excited chatter about the talent show, what other kids might do, and how Minato would possibly learn to play a whole song in time. The bell for the next class eventually pulled them apart, but the enthusiasm lingered.
The rest of the school day passed in a blur of lessons and playground antics during recess. When the final bell rang, Minato waved goodbye to Mina and Kirishima, already feeling the comfortable rhythm of school life settling in. He walked home, clutching his school bag, a different kind of anticipation building in his chest.
As soon as he got home, after a quick snack and greeting his parents, Minato went straight to his room. He pulled out his small acoustic guitar. He remembered the basic chords he had looked up online and spent the next hour diligently trying to form them with his small fingers. It was awkward and his fingertips ached, but the faint sounds of the strings vibrating, even when off-key, filled him with a quiet satisfaction. He was learning, growing, and adding new layers to this reborn life.