Evenings in the orphanage were quiet—too quiet. The kind that reminded Noir he didn't belong here.
He sat alone in the training field behind the building, moonlight silvering his white hair. A scroll of basic Academy jutsu lay open in front of him, its ink faded and smudged.
Shadow clone Jutsu… Ram, Snake, Tiger. Seems simple enough, but how the hell do you actually feel the shift?
He tried again, fingers weaving awkwardly through the hand signs.
"Ram. Snake. Tiger…"
A puff of smoke.
Poof.
The clone collapsed face-first into the dirt—half-formed, its limbs folded like paper.
"Tch. Useless," Noir muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.
He leaned back, eyes drifting skyward.
Back home… I studied code, not chakra. My fingers knew keyboards, not hand signs. So why does this still feel… familiar?
---
Suddenly, a sound. Metal scraping stone.
Noir's head snapped up.
He stood slowly, eyes scanning the shadows.
A flicker. A shimmer in the dark—like a ripple in glass. A cloaked figure stepped into view, draped in black robes that shimmered with faint blue glyphs.
No chakra signature.
No sound.
No face beneath the hood.
Just… presence.
Noir's body tensed. He took a step back.
"You are out of place," the figure said, voice low and layered—like multiple versions of it speaking at once. "And yet… you belong."
Noir's throat dried. "Who are you?"
The figure tilted its head. "You should ask instead, what are you."
And then—just for an instant—the figure's eyes gleamed.
The exact same infinity pattern as Noir's.
Noir's own eyes activated without command. Light poured through his vision. For a second, everything stopped.
And in that stillness, memories clawed at the edge of his mind.
A shattered lab. Floating numbers. Screams. A door made of fractal glass. A silhouette of himself—not this body, but his real one—surrounded by swirling light, falling endlessly through a broken timeline.
Reboot protocol: Kuraseigan Host Transfer Successful.
And then—
Darkness.
The figure was gone. No trace.
Noir gasped, stumbling back into the dirt, hand clutching his chest. The training scroll fluttered beside him, forgotten.
What… the hell was that?
He didn't understand it. Not fully. But one thing was clear:
That thing had the same eyes. That means… this power isn't just mine. Or maybe it was, And someone else is trying to take it back?.
---
The next morning, Noir didn't speak during class. He kept his eyes low, thoughts swirling like a vortex.
"Alright," Iruka called, passing out chakra leaf exercises. "Today we'll work on chakra control. Stick it to your hand. Maintain it. Simple in theory."
Most students struggled. Naruto crumpled his immediately. Sakura did well. Sasuke? Predictably excellent.
Noir tried once. Twice.
Come on…
He closed his eyes. Slowed his breathing.
Not forced. Just flow. His chakra moved like threads across his palm.
The leaf stuck. Wavered.
Held.
Iruka walked past and gave him a quiet look of approval.
Sakura glanced over—just a flicker of a glance.
Ino, too.
But Noir didn't care.
Not now. Not until I know what that figure was.
---
Later that day, he returned to the rooftop. This time, when he activated his eyes, the glow didn't frighten him.
Infinity spun calmly in his reflection. But behind that glow now lingered something else:
Purpose.
---
[End of Chapter 4]