Death came unexpectedly.
A Fūma Shuriken's fragment, Kurama's roar, a flash of light—and then, nothing.
But instead of eternal peace—a sharp pain in his chest, and... the sight of childish hands before his eyes.
"I... can breathe?"
— Reiji-san! — His mother's warm hands embraced him. — Did you fall asleep in your clothes again?
He looked around. An Uchiha room. Spartan simplicity. Outside the window—the Konoha of his childhood.
In the mirror—his face. Black hair, sharp cheekbones, dark eyes without the pupils of the Sharingan. But most importantly—he was older than Itachi.
"I'm... Fugaku's eldest son?"
«Sin System activated. Every alteration of fate is a point. Every point is your responsibility.»
The voice sounded like grinding metal.