Here's @riojiyo131, your trusted writer.
You can now get early access to Chapter 96 of Re: Naruto Uzumaki on my Patreon. You can also read up to Chapter 32 of Naruto: Satoru Senju.
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Satoru's gaze darkened, partially hidden by the strands that fell over his face.
Tsunade would not return to the village. Not as she had promised.
His eyes dropped to the ground, but they weren't really looking at it. They were fixed on some distant point, trapped between disappointment and rage. He clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles pale from the tension.
What the hell was wrong with her?
It was the same question that had tormented him for years. A poorly closed wound that bled every time he remembered her.
Why had she abandoned him? Why had she left her own son behind in Konoha, in the care of a man she herself had lost faith in?
He had spent years clinging to an illusion.
Waiting. Imagining. That one day Tsunade would appear at his doorstep, say his name, offer a coherent explanation, a reason that would help him understand.
That she would return and stay with him. That she would choose to stay.
But the years passed. And with them, hope unraveled, becoming as thin as a thread. Until Satoru understood a simple and brutal truth: he didn't need her.
He had idealized her only because he had been born from her, because she was his mother...
But in his previous life —one where he was no one, just a simple child raised in an orphanage with no parents and no surname— he had learned to survive without anyone.
Without a maternal or paternal figure. Without an adult voice to guide him.
And still, when he reincarnated and learned he had a mother, he had allowed himself to feel something. A spark. An emotion he couldn't quite name.
He thought this time would be different. That he would know what it was like to have a family.
But no.
The truth was that he didn't need a family. He had never had one. He didn't know what it was like to have one. How could he need something he had never known?
He had always been alone. And he was fine with that.
Or so he wanted to believe.
Satoru smiled. A light, carefree, almost mocking smile, completely detached from the emotions boiling in his chest.
"Meh. It was to be expected," he muttered, shrugging as if he didn't care.
He felt the stares piercing into him. Mikoto, Naruko, even Sasuke looked at him with a shadow of compassion that irritated him more than he wanted to admit.
Pity.
Nothing bothered him more than that.
Satoru's smile remained firm, but his hands stayed tightly clenched at his sides, hidden from view.
He said nothing more.
He didn't need to. Or at least, he didn't want it to seem that way.
The stares remained, loaded with that silent compassion he so despised. What did they know? What did they understand?
Naruko took a step toward him, but Satoru didn't look at her. He pretended to be distracted by a leaf drifting in the wind near his feet.
"Satoru…" she tried to say softly, grabbing his hand.
He laughed. A short, joyless laugh that shattered the moment.
"Come on, it's not like I was getting my hopes up, you know?" he said, looking up this time, his eyes bright from the sunlight, not from anything else. "It's Tsunade. She's got better things to do. I'd bet she doesn't even remember how old I am."
It was cruel. More than he wanted to admit. But he said it anyway. Because being cruel was easier than seeming weak.
Naruko lowered her gaze and Mikoto narrowed her eyes with concern.
He turned, giving them his back. "I better head home…" and walked away without saying anything else.
Somewhere in his chest, something hurt. A void difficult to name. It wasn't sadness. Not exactly.
Satoru didn't know what it was, probably disappointment—he didn't know...
He walked through the village as if he were looking for nothing, but ended up in the usual place: the Third Training Ground.
He let himself fall onto the grass, rested his elbows on his knees, and buried his head in his hands.
He didn't cry.
He wouldn't.
Because crying was admitting he had been waiting for her.
And he no longer expected anything from her.
...
At home, Satoru stared at the Nobility Pieces he had left.
Although the disappointment about Tsunade was still there, Satoru had no intention of staying stuck in the past. He had a future to build… and many plans already in motion.
The King had been used on himself. An irreversible act.
Three pawns had also been consumed, each used to unlock different worlds: How to Train Your Dragon, Jujutsu Kaisen, and DC. With each piece, a door had opened...
And although he had opened the doors, he was in no rush to cross them. Not yet.
Now he had only nine pieces left: one Queen, two Bishops, two Knights, two Rooks, and five Pawns.
They all lay silently before him, on a table.
Choosing poorly would mean wasting potential. But not using them would be foolish.
"I've already decided who will be my Queen… but I still have no idea who to use the rest of the pieces on."
Satoru wished he could ask someone for advice, anyone—he just needed a sincere opinion. But there was no one he could trust with the existence of the Nobility System.
With no other option, he left the matter for later. For now, something more important awaited.
With a wave of his hand, the rest of the pieces on the table disappeared, leaving only one.
The Queen.
Satoru picked it up carefully between his fingers. The weight was minimal, but the decision behind it meant everything.
He smiled, a mix of excitement and resolve.
"Let's go meet her, then…"
...
Satoru floated in the middle of immense darkness, formless and directionless.
In the distance, barely visible in the dark, he made out the silhouette of a girl. A teenager, sitting on the ground, her back to him.
She was crying.
Despite the darkness surrounding him, Satoru could see her clearly.
The girl didn't move, unaware of his presence, curled in on herself as she cried in silence.
And without really knowing why, Satoru smiled.
"There you are… my dear Queen."
Satoru smiled as he saw her more clearly, recognizing in her the first future member of his nobility.
Of course… only if she accepted his proposal.
When he was just a few steps away, the girl noticed his presence and turned around.
She looked at him with surprise, as if she hadn't expected to find anyone else in that place. Her gaze stayed fixed on him for long seconds, studying him in silence.
Satoru said nothing. He let her observe him freely, while he examined her carefully in turn.
She was young, with a serene face, silver-blond hair falling gently over her shoulders. Her purple eyes held a strange glow, somewhere between sadness and mistrust. Her figure was slim, almost fragile, and she wore a semi-transparent silk dress that seemed taken from a noble hall of the Middle Ages. Everything about her screamed nobility… wealth…
And beauty.
Satoru wasn't someone who usually dwelled on such things, but this time he couldn't help it. She was beautiful. More beautiful than any woman he had ever seen.
A completely out-of-place thought, coming from him. He, who had never uttered a compliment like that to anyone. Not even to himself in the mirror.
And that was already rare…
Considering how much he loved himself.
"W-who are you…?"
The girl asked with a trembling voice as she awkwardly stood up, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
Satoru noticed she was barefoot. And although her dress seemed elegant at first glance, upon closer inspection, he realized it looked more like a nightgown than anything else.
But what truly caught his attention was the blood.
It stained the fabric of her clothing, and even more alarming… ran dry along her wrists.
"Did you kill yourself…?"
Satoru said it more as a statement than a real question, not hiding his bewilderment.
The girl lowered her gaze, swallowing hard as she looked at her own bloodstained wrists.
"I-I… had no choice…"
Her voice was barely a whisper, broken. The tears returned, trembling on the edge of her lashes, ready to burst again.
"M-my brother tried to force me to marry a Dothraki barbarian… I had no choice… I didn't want to marry him…"
Satoru didn't need more details. He knew exactly who she was talking about.
Drogo.
A powerful and feared Dothraki Khal.
Leader of a massive Khalasar in the Dothraki Sea, a nomadic army of forty thousand warriors.
In their culture, the Khal was the strongest, the most brutal, and Drogo was the most feared among them.
"He promised ten thousand men to my brother… in exchange for a wife."
Daenerys lowered her head even more, her voice breaking.
"And he didn't hesitate to give me away…"
Satoru approached calmly, without sudden movements. She was still looking at the ground, rubbing her wrists desperately, trying to wipe away the blood as if she could erase what had happened.
She was on the verge of collapse.
Scared.
Lost.
And completely alone.
Then, Satoru extended his hand.
In his palm, the Queen piece glowed brightly, bathing the darkness in a soft light.
"Daenerys of House Targaryen," he said firmly, his voice calm, almost solemn. "Join my nobility as my Queen… and I'll help you solve all your problems."