Naruto: Dream Weaver! – The Sword Saint of Konoha
Naruto shot up from his bed as if jolted by electricity. His hands instinctively flew to his ears, which still seemed to throb with the phantom pain of someone yanking them hard.
He panted heavily, his messy blond hair looking like a bird's nest, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Ouch... ouch... ouch..."
Blinking his deep blue eyes in confusion, Naruto looked around.
What met his gaze wasn't the sunset-drenched streets of Konoha from his dream... nor the vague flash of a red-haired figure angrily pulling his ear.
No.
It was—
A tiny, cluttered rental apartment piled high with instant ramen cups and random junk.
The air was filled with a strange mix of smells.
Dirty clothes were tossed in a heap in the corner. A few worn-out beginner ninja manuals were scattered across the table. Outside the window, the sky was just starting to lighten.
"Huh...?"
Naruto froze.
It took several seconds for him to finally process what had just happened.
"So... it was just a dream..."
Lowering his hands from his ears, he flopped back onto the bed, his racing heart slowly starting to calm down.
But...
This dream... felt really weird.
Naruto scratched his messy blond hair, trying to recall the details.
Unlike his usual dreams that faded into vague fragments the moment he woke up, this one remained burned into his mind—every detail vivid, as if he had actually lived it.
Crystal clear.
He remembered standing in the training ground, unleashing his super-cool Multi Shadow Clone Jutsu and completely thrashing that arrogant Sasuke.
Even more unbelievable—Sasuke had actually admitted defeat.
He had acknowledged that Naruto was stronger.
Admitted that Naruto was the strongest in Team 7!
Just thinking about it made Naruto grin like an idiot, his heart swelling with joy.
And then—
Even crazier—
Sakura had... she had actually confessed to him!
She even called him "Master Naruto!"
After that, the two of them went shopping together, and the entire village—people who usually gave him weird looks—were all smiling at him.
They greeted him warmly.
Complimented him. Cared about him.
Naruto closed his eyes, the corners of his lips curling up into a goofy, blissful smile.
Man... it was perfect.
Well... except for the part at the end where some scary red-haired lady yanked his ear and scolded him until he woke up.
But overall, it was definitely the happiest, best dream he had ever had!
As Naruto rolled around on his bed, still grinning like a fool, completely lost in the afterglow of the dream—
"RING RING RING!!!"
His old frog-shaped alarm clock suddenly blared, shaking the walls with its ear-splitting screech.
"WAAAH!" Naruto jumped, scrambling to shut it off.
He glanced at the time—
7:55 AM.
"CRAP!!"
The grin vanished from his face in an instant.
"We're supposed to meet at eight! I'm gonna be late!!"
This wasn't just any day.
Today was the official start of Team 7's first real ninja mission.
The first step on his great journey to becoming Hokage.
No way—absolutely no way—was he going to be late on day one!
"AHHH! I'M SO DEAD!!"
Naruto let out a panicked scream, bolted out of bed, dashed into the bathroom, splashed water on his face, skipped brushing his teeth, grabbed his crumpled orange jacket from the table, yanked it on, then ripped open the fridge and grabbed a nearly expired carton of milk.
With the milk box dangling from his mouth, he shot out the door like a whirlwind.
"I'm off!!!" he shouted around the milk, even though no one was there to hear him.
The morning streets of Konoha were already starting to bustle.
Villagers greeted each other cheerfully. Shops were opening. The smell of fresh breakfast wafted through the air.
Naruto sprinted full-speed through the streets, weaving around pedestrians and obstacles like a pro, mumbling breathlessly, "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late..."
As he rounded a corner at top speed, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.
"Huh?" Naruto instinctively slowed down.
A short distance ahead, a young woman in a simple red kimono was walking toward him, holding the hand of a boy who looked about five or six years old.
Naruto's eyes lit up instantly.
It's her! It's really her!
That lady from yesterday's dream—the one who was super friendly and even told her son to look up to him.
No doubt about it. It was them.
He remembered clearly—she had chatted with him for a long time in the dream, praising him over and over. Her son... was his name Kōichi? Or maybe Yūta? Something like that...
Wait... does this mean... part of that dream was real?
A surge of excitement and anticipation rushed through Naruto's chest.
His anxious expression was instantly replaced with a beaming smile.
As the mother and child walked closer, Naruto felt his heart leap with joy. He raised his right hand happily, ready to greet them just like in the dream—
"Hey! Good mor—"
But before he could finish...
The woman saw him.
The moment her eyes landed on Naruto's face, her smile vanished without a trace.
Instantly replaced by an expression twisted with fear, disgust, and thinly veiled hostility.
Like she had just seen something absolutely cursed.
"Eek!"
She gasped sharply, yanking her child behind her protectively. Without another word, she spun around—almost fleeing—and power-walked in the opposite direction without looking back.
As she hurried away, Naruto could still hear her scolding the boy sternly:
"Ryota, remember! If you ever see that boy, stay far, far away! Don't you ever go near him! He'll bring you bad luck! You hear me?!"
"..."
"..."
For a moment, it was like the entire world froze.
The wind stopped.
Every glance from nearby villagers—some subtle, some not—stabbed into Naruto like countless needles.
The cheerful smile on his face... slowly cracked and shattered like a frozen lake breaking apart.
His raised right hand hung awkwardly in the air for a second... then slowly, weakly, dropped back down.
What... just happened?
Why...?
Why... is it like this...?
In the dream...
In the dream, they were so kind... so warm...
Why... is reality... like this...?
A chill, colder than ice, crept up from his feet to the top of his head, freezing every last bit of warmth left from the dream.
An overwhelming wave of bitterness and despair swallowed him whole.
He stood there, watching the woman drag her child away as fast as she could. Watching the villagers avert their eyes... or glance at him with thinly disguised contempt.
His throat felt like it was stuffed with sand—dry, tight, unable to form a single word.
It was a long while... before he finally whispered, almost inaudibly... with a bitter, self-mocking smile:
"...Right..."
"This... is reality..."
"...Not a dream."
The morning sunlight filtered through the clouds, casting a warm glow over the lively streets of Konoha—
But no matter how bright the sun was...
It couldn't reach the depths of the blonde boy's eyes, now dim and hollow.