I'm the MFP!

It took me four months to fully come to terms with where I had landed—and when I did, my mind stopped working for a solid half-day.

I had chalked up the whole "build your character to be reborn" experience as some fever dream or a warped figment of psychosis. Reincarnation? Skills and Loot Boxes? Seemed way too much like a lucid coma nightmare. But when the pieces fell into place, it wasn't just a dream.

No, this was real.

The Naruto world. I was actually in the Naruto world.

Needless to say, that revelation short-circuited my brain. The whole day became a blur of disbelief and shock. I might have been drooling at one point, but honestly, who cares? I was still stuck in the fragile body of a four-month-old, unable to express a single thought beyond helpless babbling. It was humiliating.

When I finally snapped out of my stupor, I realized I had soiled my diaper again. Lovely. One of life's little joys, being a baby with no control over your body—or anything else for that matter. I couldn't talk. I couldn't even roll over without monumental effort. The utter helplessness stung the worst. So, I did the only thing my body was capable of.

I cried.

Loud. Desperate. Angry.

It wasn't one of my proudest moments, but what choice did I have? I had no control over my emotions, and the frustration of knowing you're mentally ancient while sitting in a puddle of your own waste, unable to even express a coherent thought, was... well, humbling. I've faced down medical boards, dissected complex neurological disorders, but nothing—nothing—compared to the indignity of being dependent on someone else to clean your diaper.

I must've made quite the racket because it wasn't long before my mother came rushing in. The door slid open softly, and there she was. Aiko Yamanaka. My mother.

She looked exhausted, her features softened by fatigue and the late hour, but when she gazed down at me, a warm, adoring smile stretched across her face. And as much as I wanted to remain detached and unaffected, something primal stirred within me. Feelings I didn't want to acknowledge crept in—Safe. Warm. Love.

It was strange. My brain had the memories of an old man, but my body, this newborn body, reacted on instinct. The attachment was there, no matter how much I tried to analyze it away. Was it the breast milk? The fact that I literally came out of her body? Probably a combination of both, I decided.

Still, I let myself enjoy it. Fighting it seemed pointless, and it wasn't like I hadn't been reborn for a reason. Besides, I could always break the attachment later. People fell out with their parents all the time—nothing was set in stone.

She cleaned me up with a practiced hand and breastfed me, and damn, if that wasn't criminally comforting. I wasn't about to admit it, but my infant body knew what was up. Breastfeeding? Heavenly. I'll give this new life that much credit.

When she finally put me back in my crib, I pretended to fall asleep like a good baby. But the moment she left the room and the door clicked shut behind her, my eyes snapped open.

I had a lot to think about.

###

It took me some time, but I eventually confirmed it. One day, when I was being carried outside, I spotted the Hokage Monument off in the distance. Only three faces were carved into the mountain. Not one, not two. Three.

That was the first clue. Add to that the unmistakable Konoha headbands everyone was wearing and the fact that people kept calling my parents "Yamanaka-san"… well, it was hard to stay in denial after that. I was in the Naruto universe, and not just any part of it—I was born into the Yamanaka clan. I had chosen the Yamanaka name when I was still in the Rebirth Bureau, but it didn't hit me until that moment what that truly meant.

I'm Ino's brother. Well, sort of. I will be her brother… should be. At least one thing was for sure—my father's name is Inoichi. The head of the Yamanaka clan. And I'm the clan heir.

Being born as the clan heir meant expectations—a lot of expectations. But with the talents, I received from the loot boxes, and the Mage Class I picked, the pros definitely outweighed the cons. I could work with this.

But there was one major downside I couldn't ignore.

A lifetime of war.

I mean, this world is defined by conflict. Blood. Death. Ninjas slaughtering each other for the sake of their village. No one makes it out of this life unscathed, and with my role as the Yamanaka heir, I was expected to live—and die—fighting for Konoha. The path was laid out for me the moment I was born.

Fuck. That. Shit.

I wasn't being dramatic. I was being realistic. I'd lived through countless years of grueling work and responsibility in my past life—no way in hell was I going to let this world dictate my fate. No retirement in Florida, no quiet evenings sipping coffee on the porch at age sixty-five. No. Being a ninja meant one thing: you fought until you died or were crippled enough to stop.

I wasn't about that life.

So, I made a decision that night. As I stared up at the ceiling of my crib, tiny fists clenched in the blankets, I decided I would carve my own path in this world—not the one Konoha had planned for me, but my own. If I was going to survive this life, I had to become powerful—ridiculously, absurdly powerful—powerful enough to crush anyone who stood in my way with a thought.

Yeah, that sounded good.

I thought of Tsunade, Orochimaru, the Akatsuki—all those S-Rank ninjas who gave their villages the middle finger and went on to do whatever they wanted. No one touched them because they couldn't. When you reach a certain level of strength in this world, you're untouchable. The Kages can issue all the orders they want, but none of that matters when you can wipe out entire armies on your own.

I wanted that freedom. No... I needed that freedom.

Power was freedom, and freedom was the key to enjoying this second chance at life. My life was spent serving others and living by society's rules, but this time? This time, I was going to live for myself.

A life of peace, sitting in a castle on a cliffside, with a beautiful wife and little Yamanaka children running around. It's the dream, right? Every strong man's dream. But it wasn't just a fantasy for me. I was going to make it happen.

Of course, to reach that point, I had to quantify my goals. Power isn't some vague concept to chase blindly. I needed a concrete goal. So, I decided: S-rank? That wasn't enough. I had to aim higher. Sage-level—at least. Anything less would be a waste of my time and potential.

I mean, come on. The path to freedom wasn't a leisurely stroll. But with Limit Breaker, I had the advantage. The kind of advantage no one else in this world had.

Tsunade, Orochimaru, Itachi… they had talent. They had power. But none of them had limitless potential. They couldn't surpass their own limits forever, but I could.

And the canon story? The Madara and Infinite Tsukuyomi stuff? I had a pretty good idea of how everything panned out. The side stories, maybe not so much, but if the worst came to worst, I knew that Naruto and NPCs took care of everything. I would, of course, help. I would do my best to stop travesties before they happened. I would take care of decrepit, old, scheming men. I would set out to save the world. Why? Well, wasn't that the protagonist's duty? 

And who was I? The MFP, that's who! 

The Mother. Fucking. Protagonist. 

And with that thought firmly planted in my mind, I closed my eyes, already plotting my path to Sage-level as fast as possible.