The sky above New York was thick with gray clouds, hanging low like they were moments away from breaking into rain.
Apartment – Room 17
A seventeen-year-old boy jolted awake, gasping for breath. His eyes were wide open, as if he'd just escaped a nightmare. His messy red hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat.He glanced to his left, then right—panic creeping in—until his eyes locked onto a dusty mirror hanging crooked on the wall.
He rushed toward it.
And the moment he saw his reflection, his legs gave out.
Because staring back at him wasn't his face.It was someone else's. A stranger he had never seen before.
Still struggling to process what he was seeing, the old TV in the corner flickered to life on its own, the screen buzzing.
"...Today marks the beginning of Tony Stark's scheduled visit to Afghanistan next week, where he's set to demonstrate Stark Industries' latest weapon—called 'Jericho.'Will this be just another tool of destruction, another step toward a thousand more deaths…?"
The broadcast cut off. The screen went dark. The boy sat frozen, stunned not just by the reflection—but now by the name he had just heard.
First-person point of view
"My name is... EHRMM... Victor Emely... No! That's not my name… ERGHH—!"
I grabbed my head with both hands, like I could crush the storm inside it. It felt like fire was burning behind my eyes—searing every thought trying to rise.
My teeth clenched. I swallowed the scream building in my throat, biting down on the pain slicing through my skull like a hot blade.
My vision blurred.The room vanished.
Replaced by flashes—like a film reel shoved into a projector spinning too fast.Strange faces. Voices I should've recognized.A different name.A different life.
I dropped to my knees, struggling to breathe. My heart pounded like it was trying to break out of my chest.
"What… who the hell am I?"
Then, a voice.
It didn't come from behind me.Or beside me.
It came from inside my head.
"Tch… A host who doesn't even know who he is...Pathetic."
The pain slowly faded—like the final echo of a scream slipping into silence.My breathing steadied, though my hands were still shaking uncontrollably.
Then... that voice returned.Deep. Heavy. Ancient.Like something long buried clawing its way out from the shadows of my soul.
"Now you remember… This is the price of your wish.And now, one way or another, you have to accept it."
My grip tightened. That voice—it wasn't unfamiliar.Sharp. Condescending.And filled with a power I couldn't yet understand.
"You… Kurama. The Nine-Tails…"
I slowly stood, still unsteady.My reflection stared back at me from the cracked mirror—A face that wasn't mine, yet now belonged to me.Red hair, black-tipped. Pale skin. Eyes that used to be someone else's… but now I couldn't tear away from them.
And then, without meaning to—I smiled.Wide. Calm. Without regret.
"Hmm? You're… smiling?""Why?"
"Because I got what I wanted."
"…That's all that matters."
This boy… he's different from the last, Kurama muttered to himself.
I stared back into the mirror again, deeper this time.
And in that moment, I realized—the old me was gone.
Now, I am Victor Emely.A seventeen-year-old dropout.A boy left behind after both his parents vanished without a trace.And the host of the Nine-Tailed Beast, whose power could shake the world
I caught a whiff of myself—and I stank.
Before stepping out, I decided I needed a shower.
I opened the wardrobe, digging through the mess.In the old Victor's memories, he used to care about how he looked.But after his parents disappeared...he stopped caring about everything.
Eventually, I found a set of clothes that were clean enough.Nothing special.But decent.
I stepped out of the apartment and made my way toward the elevator.
The hallway outside was dimly lit.A dying fluorescent light above flickered weakly, casting long shadows along the peeling walls.The air reeked of damp concrete and old cigarette smoke.
But to me—everything was new.Strange. .
Outside, New York was alive.
The sky was overcast, gray clouds hanging so low it felt like they could crush the city any moment.The air was thick with humidity.Horns blared. Distant yelling. Sirens howling through the chaos.A world drowning in its own rhythm.
But I...
I felt something else.Something ancient.Stirring under my skin.
"Your body is still weak," Kurama's voice growled deep within my mind."But it'll do... for now. Let's see how long you last."
Suddenly, a rush of heat surged through my chest—and then spiked.Wild. Uncontrolled.Like liquid fire pouring into every nerve in my body.
My knees gave out.I stumbled into the alley beside the building, collapsing against the cold wall for support.
"AGHH—! Damn it, Kurama—you really suck at picking your timing."
My breath hitched. My vision spun.
The tips of my fingers began to glow faintly red.The air around me shimmered, rippling with heat like smoke rising off asphalt.
"This... is just a fragment of my power.If even this overwhelms you..."
Kurama didn't finish.He didn't need to.
I gritted my teeth, hands shaking, legs barely holding.Then—slowly—I pushed myself up.
"I'm not weak," I muttered."Not anymore."
The red glow faded, unwillingly—like a beast retreating back into its den.
And for the first time since I woke up in this unfamiliar body...
I felt it.
Power.Real. Raw. Terrifying.
This boy... not bad, Kurama murmured.No seal... not an Uzumaki...yet he's holding it together...
I gasped for air, on one knee,body trembling, mind racing.
But I felt it—the difference.The flow.
For the first time...
I could feel my chakra.
10 minutes later at random building
I sat cross-legged on the rooftop of an old building, far from the chaos of the streets below.The evening wind brushed through my hair, cool and soft.But my body still burned—not from the weather, but from the storm within.
My breathing had steadied,but the energy inside me—wild and restless—refused to calm down.
"Listen carefully, kid," Kurama's voice echoed in my head, deep and rumbling like distant thunder."If you don't want your body to rip itself apart, you need to learn how to channel your chakra properly—especially your Yang chakra."
I closed my eyes, trying to focus my thoughts.
"What's the difference between Yang chakra and regular chakra?"
"Regular chakra is a mix—Yin and Yang combined.But if you draw only Yang, you're pulling raw, untamed energy straight from your body.No thought. No control. Just power... and the will to survive."
"One mistake, and your body could tear from the inside. Got it?"
I swallowed hard, then gave a slow nod.
"Good. Now breathe… deeply.Find your chakra center—it's just below your navel. That's where your physical energy is stored."
I inhaled.Slowly.
One… two…
And then I felt it.A spark of warmth—like a tiny ember flickering deep inside.But as I focused on it, the spark ignited.The ember became a fire.
My blood felt heavier.My heartbeat quickened. Harder. Louder.
"That's it," Kurama whispered, almost approving."Now guide that chakra into your right hand. Don't think. Just feel it."
I tried to follow his command.
And as the chakra moved, it was like a wave of heat rushing through my veins.My hand began to tremble.My skin started to burn.
"Ugh—too hot...!"
"That's because you're hesitating.Yang chakra despises doubt. It'll consume you if you're weak."
I clenched my teeth.
Focus. Don't be afraid.
My hand turned red, but I kept the pain down.I pushed the chakra slowly toward my palm—like guiding a wild animal without a leash.
And then…
My hand began to glow.Faintly.A deep, golden red.
Stable.
"...Interesting," Kurama muttered."Your body learns quickly. Quicker than I expected.But don't let it go to your head."
I opened my eyes.
For the first time…I wasn't just holding back an explosion.
I had control.Focus.Power.
"Thank you," I murmured quietly.
"Tch. Don't get the wrong idea.I didn't teach you because I care.I teach you because if you die then I will die too."
A small smile crept onto my lips.
whatever it is still...thank you.
3 Hours Later
The New York evening sky hadn't changed much.Still gray, still heavy—as if it, too, carried the weight I was holding inside.
It had been three hours since Kurama's voice first thundered in my mind—forcing me to begin learning how to control Yang chakra.Three hours… and it felt like holding back a storm inside my chest.
"You think you can master this power just because you asked for it?" Kurama's voice was sharp, almost mocking."Yang chakra is the energy of life. Raw power.And your body—a mere human body—wasn't made to carry it so easily."
I sat cross-legged on the rooftop, eyes closed. Cold sweat rolled down my temple.My breathing was short—not out of fear,but because my body was barely holding back the searing pressure boiling below my navel.
But little by little… I began to feel it.
That source of energy.Like a tiny ember pulsing deep within me.Yang chakra.
I still couldn't channel it far.Even when I tried to move it to my hand, the vibration was rough and painful—as if it resisted being tamed.
"Slow down. Don't force it.Listen to your body's flow, not your ego," Kurama murmured, his tone flatter this time.
I tried again.
This time, not with strength—but with feeling.
I imagined the chakra as fire—flowing, not burning—just slipping through.
And for a moment—a very brief moment—my palm felt warm.Stable.
There was no glow. No form.Just heat—under control.
"…That's it," I whispered.
"Don't get too proud," Kurama snapped back."That's just a drop in the ocean.And you haven't even learned how to swim."
I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
"An old man once told me:'If you're better than who you were yesterday…then that's already a victory.'