Minato with a Gacha

MC's POV

The Senju training field stretched before us, hidden away from prying eyes by a wall of dense, ancient trees. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled patterns over the mossy ground. The air was crisp, still carrying the faint chill of dawn. It should've been peaceful, calming even, but my nerves were shot.

Standing a few paces away, Kushina crossed her arms, her sharp eyes locked onto me. "Alright, Minato," she said, her voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. "Let's start simple. Show me what you know about chakra control."

I blinked. "Chakra control?"

"Yes," she said with the kind of patience you use for a child—or an idiot. "Form a chakra ball. Or mold it into your hand. Whatever you're comfortable with."

The confidence in her voice felt like a spotlight shining on the fact that I had no idea what I was doing. Chakra control might've been second nature to Minato Namikaze, but to me? It was like asking someone who's only ever driven a bike to pilot a spaceship.

"I, uh…" I hesitated, looking at my hands like they might hold the answer.

Kushina's brow furrowed, and she stepped closer, suspicion flickering across her face. "Don't tell me you don't how to mold chakra," she said, her voice tight.

"I—of course not!" I said quickly, forcing a smile. "It's just been a… long time since I've done it."

Her stare didn't falter. "Fine. Then let me remind you."

With practiced ease, she raised her hand and let her chakra flow. A soft blue glow appeared in her palm, swirling and pulsing like a tiny storm. The control was flawless, the energy stable, as if it were a part of her. She made it look effortless.

"See?" she said, giving me a pointed look. "Your turn."

I swallowed hard, feeling my stomach twist. "Right. Sure."

I mimicked her stance, raising my hand and focusing as hard as I could. But when I tried to mold chakra… nothing happened. No glow, no spark, no energy. Just an awkward silence stretching between us like a chasm.

"You're kidding me," Kushina muttered, her voice laced with disbelief.

"I—it's not as easy as it looks!" I said defensively, lowering my hand.

Her frustration was palpable, but instead of snapping, she sighed and stepped closer. "Fine. Watch carefully," she said, her tone softer but still firm. She molded another ball of chakra in her hand, this time slower, the energy coiling like smoke. "Feel it. It's not about brute force. You're guiding the chakra, letting it flow naturally. Now try again."

I hesitated, then mirrored her movements as best as I could. To my surprise, this time it worked. The moment I followed her lead, a faint glow appeared in my palm, growing stronger as I focused. It wasn't perfect, but it was there.

Kushina's eyes widened. "Huh. Not bad."

I stared at the energy, my heart racing. It felt… familiar, like my body had done this a thousand times before, even though my mind hadn't. It wasn't my skill. It was his—Minato's. Muscle memory.

"That's… weird," I muttered, more to myself than to her.

"What's weird?" she asked.

"Nothing," I said quickly, shaking my head

She watched me for a moment longer, then nodded. "Fine. At least you're not completely hopeless." She extinguished her chakra ball with a flick of her wrist, her expression shifting to something more serious. "Now for the real test."

I tensed. "Real test?"

"You're going to show me how you killed that rogue shinobi," she said flatly.

My stomach dropped. "Kushina, I don't think that's a good—"

"Show me," she interrupted, her voice firm. "You said you 'reacted.' Prove it."

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped when I saw her face. She wasn't angry or suspicious—she was determined, and there was a flicker of something else in her eyes. Concern. She needed to understand what I was capable of. What I wasn't.

"I… don't think I can," I admitted, lowering my gaze. "It's not that simple."

Her expression hardened. "Why not?"

I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Because it wasn't… me," I said carefully. "Not entirely, anyway."

Kushina's frown deepened. "Explain."

I hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. I'll try, but you need to keep an open mind."

I glanced around, making sure we were alone, then lowered my voice. "There's… something inside me. It's like a library—a system that gives me access to abilities, techniques, even powers. But it's not free. Every time I use something, there's a penalty."

Her eyes narrowed. "A penalty?"

I nodded. "A heavy one. For example… when that shinobi attacked me, I used two abilities without even realizing it. The first healed my throat, but the cost…" I paused, swallowing hard. "The cost is that, I felt the pain of dying a hundred times over. All at once."

Kushina's expression didn't change, but I saw her fingers tighten at her sides.

"The second ability," I continued, "was the beam of energy I shot from my eyes. For that, the penalty is temporary blindness. "

She stared at me, her silence stretching uncomfortably. I couldn't tell if she believed me or if she thought I was completely insane.

Finally, she spoke, her voice low. "And you're saying this… system just gives you these powers? At that cost?"

I nodded. "It's not something I can control, not fully. It's like it activated when I was desperate. I didn't choose those abilities, and I didn't choose the penalties, but they happened anyway."

She crossed her arms, her gaze sharp and unyielding. "And you expect me to believe this?"

"I don't know what to expect," I said honestly. "But it's the truth. And if I'm going to survive as Minato, I need to learn how to control it—how to use it without letting it control me."

For a long moment, she said nothing, her eyes locked onto mine. I could see the wheels turning in her mind, the calculations, the doubt.

Finally, she sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Alright," she said quietly. "I'll believe you. For now."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, but it was short-lived.

"But you need to prove it," she added, her voice firm. "If this system is real, if these penalties are real, then you need to show me you can handle it. Because if you can't…" She let the sentence hang, the unspoken threat clear.

"I'll handle it," I said, more confidently than I felt.

"Good," she said, stepping back. "Because Konoha doesn't need someone who's half in and half out. If you're going to be Minato, you need to commit. Completely