Konoha Year 63, a summer night.
The air buzzed softly with the sound of insects, and the moon shimmered above the swaying willow branches.
In the Land of Fire, deep within the Hidden Leaf Village, the Hatake residence sat quiet under the pale glow of the moonlight.
Inside, Hatake Kakashi lay sprawled out like a starfish on his always unchanged single bed. He hadn't even bothered to remove his signature black mask. Only one tired, half-lidded eye was visible, staring blankly at the all-too-familiar ceiling.
His thoughts drifted back to the event earlier that day—Team 7's survival exercise. Their final test.
The Bell Test.
A classic, time-honored tradition.
The corner of Kakashi's mouth twitched, and a rare trace of warmth flickered in his perpetually disinterested eyes.
Though the process was messy, full of chaos and surprises, the three little brats had finally grasped the meaning of teamwork.
"Well, they're not bad kids," Kakashi murmured, rolling to one side and carelessly tossing "Make-Out Paradise" onto the floor.
A heavy sense of exhaustion washed over him. He yawned lazily as his eyelids began to droop.
His body relaxed. His breathing steadied. The night grew quieter.
Sleep was just around the corner.
...
But just as his mind began to slip into darkness, a strange sensation jolted Kakashi wide awake!
Something wasn't right.
His eye snapped open, no longer lazy and indifferent, but sharp and alert like a hawk's.
His instincts kicked in. In one swift motion, he shot upright with the grace of a seasoned shinobi. His right hand darted to the ninja pouch on his waist.
Empty?
His pupils suddenly contracted.
In the next moment, Kakashi fully registered his surroundings.
This was not his messy little bachelor apartment at all.
He was standing inside a vast, eerie, pitch-black room.
The air was cold and stagnant, carrying a stale scent, as if it had been sealed away from the world for years.
The walls around him were made of a glossy, dark material that absorbed every trace of light. Not a single reflection could be seen. It was as if the shadows themselves had swallowed the room whole.
In front of him stood a massive screen—black, silent, unmoving—like a movie theater curtain before a show. But no images flickered on its surface. Just an oppressive, bone-deep stillness.
Behind him, row after row of vacant seats stretched into the abyss. Neatly arranged, abandoned, forgotten. Like the audience seating of a theater that hadn't welcomed a guest in decades.
Where... was this?
Genjutsu?
His instincts screamed danger. Kakashi immediately gathered chakra into his core.
It flowed smoothly. No restriction. No seal.
Without a second of hesitation, he formed a series of hand signs.
"Body Replacement Technique!"
Nothing.
Like throwing a pebble into a bottomless pit—no response. He remained frozen where he stood.
His expression tightened.
"Body Flicker Technique!"
Still no response.
His limbs, his chakra—everything felt locked in place. As if his body had been pinned to the floor by invisible nails.
"Release!"
He performed the Genjutsu release seal.
Again, nothing.
This wasn't a Genjutsu?
Nor was it a conventional sealing technique, or a barrier he recognized?
He narrowed his visible eye, then swiftly pushed up his forehead protector.
The crimson glow of the Sharingan lit up in the darkness.
He scanned the room—walls, floor, screen, air.
But still... nothing.
No fluctuation. No distortion. No trap.
Kakashi gritted his teeth slightly.
Where was he?
And more importantly... who brought him here?
A powerful wave of unease surged in Kakashi's heart.
He was Hatake Kakashi—Konoha's elite Jonin, the Copy Ninja feared across nations, a veteran of the Anbu Black Ops. His instincts were razor-sharp, his senses honed through countless battles.
Yet someone had managed to abduct him from his home in the heart of the well-guarded Hidden Leaf Village... without making a sound?
And now, they'd brought him to this strange, sealed space, where even his jutsu were rendered useless?
This wasn't just unsettling. It was unprecedented.
As his mind spun, analyzing every angle, every detail of his surroundings, a sudden voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Ah! Kakashi-sensei?!"
A young, startled voice—feminine, familiar.
Kakashi whipped around instantly.
About three or four rows back, he spotted two figures standing side by side in the dim light.
Both were wearing pajamas, clearly having been pulled from their sleep just as he had.
Sakura Haruno stood there with wide, frightened eyes. Her pink cotton pajamas were dotted with little rabbit patterns, making her look even smaller and more vulnerable. Her mouth trembled slightly, on the verge of tears.
Beside her stood Uchiha Sasuke, arms crossed tightly, dressed in dark blue striped pajamas. His face was stoic as always, but the tightness in his jaw and the faint furrow in his brow betrayed a quiet tension.
"Sakura? Sasuke?" Kakashi lowered his forehead protector calmly, his voice steady. "How did you two get here?"
"I… I don't know!" Sakura stammered, clearly panicking. Her voice cracked as she choked back tears. "I was sleeping in my room. I closed my eyes, and then when I opened them again… I was here!"
She glanced around at the empty, eerie seats and the silent screen ahead, then looked back at Kakashi in distress. "Sasuke-kun and I have been here for a while already. We looked everywhere. There's nothing! Just these chairs and this huge screen… Kakashi-sensei, what's happening?! Were we kidnapped by some terrifying enemy?"
Her voice cracked further at the end, and her body shook slightly.
Sasuke remained silent, but the grim expression on his face said enough. His dark eyes shifted to Kakashi, clearly hoping for guidance, some kind of explanation from the one person they could trust right now.
Kakashi's expression grew even more grim.
Not just him—but Sakura and Sasuke had been pulled into this strange place too?
And all while they were asleep...
What kind of jutsu could do that?
To affect such a wide range of people, to be so subtle that even he—a seasoned Jonin—hadn't sensed a thing… It was terrifying.
What kind of enemy could pull this off?
Why target them?
Why gather all of Team 7 here?
Wait a minute.
Kakashi's eyes sharpened.
Where was Naruto?
Sakura and Sasuke might be young and unguarded, easily targeted in their sleep… but Kakashi? He lived under the tightest security, in the heart of the Hidden Leaf. And yet he had been transported here without resistance.
The person who did this—was no ordinary ninja.
Whoever they were, their abilities were unfathomable.
As Kakashi's mind churned through possibilities, Sasuke—who had been quietly observing—suddenly raised a hand and pointed toward the massive black screen.
"Kakashi-sensei," he said slowly, "that screen just flickered a moment ago. It lit up, then went dark again… but I think I saw that idiot Naruto's face on it."
His tone was even, but a flicker of doubt crossed his eyes.
He added, "It felt like… the screen was showing Naruto's dream."
Kakashi was stunned for a second. "Naruto's… dream?"
His gaze shifted instantly back to the dark screen.
And then—
The screen lit up.
No warning.
No sound.
Just an instant glow, illuminating the shadowy space like a flash of lightning.
On the massive screen appeared a familiar scene.
It was the training ground.
A clearing within the Hidden Leaf Village.
Kakashi's eye narrowed as he recognized it immediately.
The same place where they'd conducted the Bell Test.
And at the center of the training ground, two twelve-year-old boys stood face to face, their intense stares locked like clashing blades.
One had wild blonde hair and wore his unmistakable orange jumpsuit—Uzumaki Naruto.
The other had jet-black hair, a cool, brooding expression, and eyes that burned with the fire of competition—Uchiha Sasuke.
But the situation on the screen was… bizarre.
Naruto stood confidently with his hands on his hips, head tilted back, laughing triumphantly. Surrounding him was an army—dozens, no, at least a hundred identical Shadow Clones, each wearing the same smug look, all focused on one thing: Sasuke lying flat on the ground.
And Sasuke—disheveled, dusty, obviously defeated—wasn't angry.
He wasn't glaring or shouting in frustration.
Instead… he was smiling.
It was a rare, gentle smile—filled with respect, relief, and something that looked suspiciously like admiration.
Kakashi: "…"
Sakura: "…"
Sasuke: "…"
All three spectators stared at the screen in complete disbelief.
What… what in the world was happening?!
Then, on-screen Sasuke suddenly spoke. His voice was filled with sincerity and pride as he looked up at Naruto:
"...Hmph. As expected of you, Uzumaki Naruto."
"I admit it. I lost."
"Your strength surpasses mine. From this day forward, I, Uchiha Sasuke, recognize you as the strongest member of Team 7!"
In that moment, Naruto's grin widened even further. He puffed out his chest, nostrils practically flaring with pride, and pointed a finger at Sasuke like a victorious champion.
"Wahahaha! See that? Sasuke, you're not so tough after all! I always thought you were some big shot—but I crushed you like it was nothing! This is what happens when you mess with the great Uzumaki Naruto! Wahahahaha!"
Pfft—!
In the audience, the real Uchiha Sasuke's veins on his forehead instantly bulged.
His handsome face flushed red with anger and shame!
"This, this idiot!!! How could I possibly lose to him? And say such things?" Sasuke trembled with rage. If looks could kill, the Naruto on the screen would have been cut into a thousand pieces by him.
Sakura also covered her face, looking speechless and disgusted: "Naruto… he's truly hopeless…"
Kakashi, meanwhile, maintained his classic dead-fish eye expression, silently watching the screen, his heart completely calm, almost wanting to laugh.
The tense atmosphere was slightly alleviated by the commotion on the screen.
And just as the three of them were experiencing intense emotional fluctuations due to the ridiculous dream on the screen.
In the distant, unobservable shadows of the audience area.
A black-haired youth, wearing a common ramen shop uniform, revealed a satisfied smile.
It was Aren.
Before him, prompts that only he could see constantly popped up:
"Ding! Emotional fluctuations from Uzumaki Naruto have been captured! Emotion Value +300!"
"Ding! Emotional fluctuations from Uchiha Sasuke have been captured! Emotion Value +200!"
"Ding! Emotional fluctuations from Sakura Haruno have been captured! Emotion Value +50!"
"Ding! Emotional fluctuations from Kakashi Hatake have been captured! Emotion Value +50!"
"Hehehe…" Aren looked at the rapidly increasing numbers on the panel, the corners of his mouth harder to suppress than an AK.
"It worked! This Dream Master System is awesome! Not only can it pull the dreamer in, but it can also package their close relations as an audience! And the Emotion Value generated by the audience can also be collected by me! Double the happiness, so satisfying!"
Aren licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
He was a transmigrator.
Three years ago, he had been an ordinary man from Earth, working as a psychological counselor who specialized in guiding troubled teenagers through their emotional struggles. Then one day, he woke up and found himself inside the dangerous world of Naruto.
What made things worse was that he hadn't landed in a famous clan like the Uchiha or Hyuga, or even as part of the Ino–Shika–Cho trio.
He had reincarnated as a complete war orphan, with no Kekkei Genkai, no family background, and barely any talent as a ninja.
His only stroke of luck was being adopted by Teuchi, the kind-hearted owner of Ichiraku Ramen, and taken in as his youngest son.
Now, Aren worked as a helper in the ramen shop, living a humble life filled with kneading dough, boiling noodles, and washing dishes day after day.
For three years, he had tried every method he could think of to change his fate. He secretly practiced chakra control, trained his body, and followed the example of other transmigrators he had read about in novels.
But the results were pitiful. Not only did he show no talent, he wasn't even stronger than Teuchi.
Eventually, he had to accept the harsh truth.
He was a civilian with zero ninja potential.
Day after day passed, and the calendar turned to Konoha Year 63. Naruto, Sasuke, and the other new-gen students had just graduated from the Ninja Academy. Which meant…
The plot was about to begin.
Just thinking about the chaos to come gave Aren chills. Orochimaru would soon team up with the Hidden Sand to launch the Konoha Crush, the Third Hokage would die in battle, and the village would be devastated.
Later, there would be the Akatsuki's hunt for the Tailed Beasts, Pain's assault, and even the Fourth Great Ninja War.
Aren could already feel his scalp going numb.
In his current state, with no power or protection, even the shockwaves from a fight nearby could turn him into dust.
Just when he was on the verge of giving up in despair—ready to pack his things and either run far away or just lie low and pray he could survive until Boruto: Naruto Next Generations—
His golden finger finally activated last night, fashionably late.
Dream Master System
Current Dream Master Level: 1 (700 / 100000)
Dream Target Number: 1
Audience Count: 3
Function: Can pull specific target characters into a special dream space (either their personal dream or a system-generated "Dream Theater")
Features: Can read, construct, and even alter the content of a character's dream
Effect: Emotional fluctuations experienced by the dreamer and those close to them while in the dream space will be converted into "Emotion Value" and absorbed by the system
Exchange: Emotion Value can be used in the system shop to purchase a wide range of powers, Kekkei Genkai, rare items, Ninjutsu, and more from across worlds...
In simpler terms, Aren could now "create dreams" and "broadcast them," collecting emotional reactions from the participants. Their joy, sorrow, anger, laughter—every emotion would be converted into points for his personal growth.
And the first dream target he selected was, of course—
Uzumaki Naruto.
The Nine-Tails Jinchuriki, the heir of the Uzumaki bloodline, the reincarnation of Asura, the future Seventh Hokage, the king of "talk-no-jutsu," and the beloved knucklehead ninja of Konoha…
This guy, abandoned by society since childhood, thirsted deeply for love and acknowledgment. Buried within him were countless dreams, desires, and frustrations that had never been fulfilled.
He was basically a living generator of emotional energy.
Pulling in Kakashi, Sasuke, and Sakura—Naruto's closest teacher and teammates—as the "audience" was the finishing touch.
After all, Naruto alone could produce a lot of Emotion Value… but why stop there?
Bringing in the people closest to him to witness his deepest wishes unfold—whether the result was embarrassment, anger, sympathy, secondhand shame, joy, or shock—the emotional waves would skyrocket.
Aren mentally calculated his gains so far while turning his gaze back to the big screen.
The dream he had carefully crafted was far from over.
The real show was only just beginning.