For hours after the dream, Jun lay in bed, unmoving.

  His sheets were tangled from his earlier tossing and turning, but now he lay completely still, staring up at the ceiling in a silence so heavy it pressed on his chest.

  The visions from the dream still echoed in his head—not blurred like dreams should be, but vivid, precise. Memories. Experiences. Pain. Loneliness. Rage. A burning desire for strength. All of it real. Too real.

  He clutched his blanket tightly, his small fingers trembling.

  “Sasuke…”

  That name rang through his mind like a whisper in a deep cavern, growing louder each time. He wasn’t Sasuke. He knew that. And yet—he remembered Sasuke’s life.

  A life of solitude.

  Of betrayal.

  Of endless battles.

  Of losing everything—his family, his clan, his innocence.

  Jun slowly sat up in bed, placing his bare feet on the wooden floor. The chill of the night air kissed his skin, but he barely noticed. His eyes, once bright with childhood curiosity, were now clouded with thought.

  He stood and walked to his bedroom window, gently parting the curtains. The street outside was quiet, bathed in moonlight. A car rolled by, its headlights casting long shadows on the pavement. A normal world. An ordinary world.

  This wasn’t the ninja world.

  There were no shinobi villages, no chakra beasts, no warring clans. Just cities and schools and grocery stores. Just people living everyday lives.

  He turned to look at his room—the sketchbook his dad had given him, the flower from Hina still blooming in a glass of water, the faint scent of his mom’s cooking lingering in the air.

  “I’m… lucky,” Jun whispered.

  Sasuke had lost everything.

  Jun still had everything.

  He had a father who smiled with pride and gave thoughtful gifts. A mother who laughed gently and made warm meals. And a little sister who jumped into his lap and gave him a stolen flower with all the pride in the world.

  He sat back down on his bed and hugged his knees.

  “If I had been born in that world…” he thought, “would I have lost everything, too?”

  The thought tightened something deep in his chest.

  “I won’t waste this life,” he murmured. “Not this time.”

  That night, he didn’t sleep again. He simply waited for the sun to rise.

  The next day, Jun began something new.

  After school, after homework, and after pretending to be just a regular seven-year-old boy, he would go to his room. There, he closed the door quietly. Not locked—just closed. Then he would draw all the curtains, sit in the middle of the room, and begin to meditate.

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  Eyes closed. Legs crossed. Hands resting on his knees.

  Just like Sasuke had done.

  He tried to remember how Sasuke used chakra—what it felt like, how it was drawn from within, how it moved.

  But no matter how hard he tried, nothing happened.

  He stayed like that for two hours that first day. His back ached. His legs tingled. His mind wandered. Still… no chakra.

  He let out a frustrated sigh and glanced at the clock. Nearly dinner time.

  He had to act normal.

  He opened the curtains, stepped out of his room, and joined his family at the dinner table. Smiling. Talking. Pretending.

  But his mind was still in that meditative space.

  The same routine repeated for the next four days.

  Jun never practiced in front of anyone.

  Always alone.

  Always behind closed doors.

  Even when his friends at school invited him to play video games or soccer, he refused. Politely, but firmly. He did his schoolwork, said the right things, even drew a few sketches to keep up appearances. But every free moment was spent sitting cross-legged on his floor, reaching inward.

  Sometimes, he thought he felt something stir—a flicker of energy in his belly, a warmth behind his navel—but then it would vanish like mist.

  “Am I doing this wrong…?” he whispered on the third day.

  His mind would wander back to those memories. Sasuke—standing tall, lightning dancing around his hands. His sword drawn. Eyes glowing red.

  Jun felt that power somewhere inside him. Distant. Dormant. Waiting.

  But unreachable.

  He bit his lip and kept trying.

  By the fifth day, Jun had changed.

  He didn’t realize it at first, but he no longer saw the world the same way.

  He noticed things more sharply. He thought through things more carefully. His emotions felt deeper—but more controlled. Sometimes he’d catch himself thinking like someone much older, someone far more experienced. And it always came back to the memories.

  Sasuke’s memories.

  The trauma. The pain. The bitter loneliness that clung like frost.

  And yet Jun—Jun still had warmth.

  He’d sit at dinner and quietly observe his family. His father, laughing at some joke. His mother, lovingly cutting food for Hina. And Hina herself—giggling as she played with her rice.

  Jun would watch them, his heart swelling with something that felt like both joy and guilt.

  “He lost them all. His mother, his father… his clan. Everyone. His brother killed them all.”

  “But I have them. They’re here. They’re alive.”

  “I’m not going to take that for granted.”

  He smiled a little more. Helped a little more. Hugged Hina just a little tighter at night.

  And then came the night of the fifth day.

  Dinner had ended. His parents were relaxing in the living room, watching TV. Hina had fallen asleep with her head in her mother’s lap.

  Jun crept to his room quietly, heart pounding in his chest.

  Tonight felt different.

  He closed the door.

  Drew the curtains.

  Sat in the center of the room.

  Closed his eyes.

  Breathed in.

  Out.

  In.

  Out.

  He reached inward.

  Deeper.

  Deeper.

  He remembered Sasuke’s focus—his discipline. The way he described chakra: physical energy from the body and spiritual energy from the mind.

  Balance them.

  Unite them.

  He didn’t move.

  He didn’t twitch.

  He just felt.

  And then—there it was.

  A spark.

  Small. Warm. Buzzing.

  Jun’s eyes flew open. He gasped sharply.

  A subtle, glowing blue energy pulsed in his gut, just faint enough to be missed, but there. Real. Alive.

  “I… I did it,” he whispered.

  His body trembled—not from fear, but from overwhelming joy.

  He stood slowly, and the energy followed him. Faint tendrils of chakra trailed through his arms like light mist. His instincts—Sasuke’s instincts—kicked in. He adjusted his breathing, his stance. Muscle memory guided him like it had always been part of him.

  He raised his hand.

  Concentrated.

  Felt the energy swirl toward his palm.

  A small surge of chakra responded, flickering like a flame.

  Tears welled in Jun’s eyes.

  This wasn’t a dream.

  This was real.

  All of it.

  Sasuke’s memories.

  His skills.

  His pain.

  His strength.

  And now… his chakra.

  “I’m going to learn everything,” Jun whispered fiercely. “Every jutsu. Every skill. I’ll master it all.”

  He turned toward the window, eyes glowing with excitement and determination.

  “I’ll be a hero,” he said to the night.

  In his mind, the world was still normal. Ordinary. Just him and his power.

  A superhero in hiding.

  He had no idea just how wrong he was.

  But for now, in this quiet room, with the moonlight slipping through the curtains, Jun smiled wider than he ever had before.

  He had found his path.

  And it had only just begun.