Ryouhei Kurozawa was never meant to be in the Akatsuki.
He had been lying on his couch, watching Naruto on his phone, half-aware of the world around him. He was already six episodes deep and totally hooked.
He always thought it would be cool to be in that world—fighting powerful ninjas, using jutsu, meeting cool kunoichi. But that was just a dream.
Until everything changed.
His phone screen suddenly went black. A sharp wave of dizziness hit him, and before he could grab his water bottle, his vision went out completely.
When Ryouhei woke up, he wasn't at home.
Dark clouds covered the sky, and soft rain fell steadily. He was lying on wet ground, on a dirt road in the middle of a strange village. The buildings looked old and made of wood. People walked past him without stopping.
His clothes were different—cheap, rough, and soaked. His phone was gone.
He sat up slowly and held his aching head.
"Where... where am I?"
Looking around, he noticed something odd. Some people wore metal headbands with strange symbols. One had three slashes through it. Another had a swirl.
That swirl—
His stomach turned. He'd seen that symbol before. Hidden Rain Village?
Then he spotted a tall man wearing a flak jacket and carrying kunai and shuriken. The way he moved—it wasn't normal. It was trained. It was familiar.
And just like that, everything clicked.
The rain. The clothes. The weapons. The symbols.
"No way…" Ryouhei whispered, eyes wide. "Am I… in Naruto?"
He stumbled back and bumped into a vendor's stall. The man cursed at him in a language Ryouhei somehow understood. He didn't know how, but it was like he'd always known it.
This wasn't Japan. This wasn't a dream.
This was real.
He was in the Naruto world.
And the worst part? He had no powers. No chakra. No special system or skills. No glowing menu or tutorial. Just soaked clothes, a pounding heart, and the growing feeling that he was totally screwed.
Then the screams started.
Smoke rose at the edge of the village. Fire. Panic. People ran as masked shinobi with no headbands stormed the streets. They were killing everyone who got in their way.
Ryouhei froze in fear. He had no weapons. No jutsu. No way to fight back.
He was about to die.
Then the rain stopped—no, it parted.
She appeared.
Blue hair. Paper wings. A cold, silent presence that filled the street like a storm.
Konan.
Without a word, she tore through the rogue shinobi with deadly paper blades. In seconds, the threat was gone. Silence returned, broken only by the rain.
Ryouhei dropped to his knees, shaking.
He wasn't just in the Naruto world.
He was near Amegakure.
Near the Akatsuki.
And Konan had just saved his life.
Now he was inside one of the tall towers in the Rain Village. The room was dim, lit only by a flickering lantern. Rain tapped against the metal walls outside. Ryouhei sat on a chair, soaked and nervous.
Konan stood across from him, her amber eyes watching closely.
"Speak," she said. Her voice was calm. "Who are you, and how did you come to Amegakure?"
Ryouhei's brain raced. He couldn't tell her the truth—that he was from another world where she was just an anime character. That would get him killed.
"I'm Ryouhei. Ryouhei Kurozawa," he said. "I… don't know how I got here. I woke up outside the village. I'm not a ninja or anything. I'm just… a guy."
She narrowed her eyes. "You know of Amegakure. Yet you claim no village."
"I've heard stories," he said carefully. "From travelers, merchants. I picked up a few things about the shinobi world." That part was technically true—he had binge-watched the show.
"I don't have chakra," he added. "I can't do anything like you."
Konan tilted her head slightly. "Chakra is basic. Even civilians have it. Yet you say you have none?"
His stomach twisted. Crap. Of course she'd catch that.
"I mean, I know what chakra is," he said quickly. "But I was never trained. Where I'm from, we didn't use it. I never needed it."
"And where exactly are you from?" she asked.
He hesitated. Don't say Earth. Don't say Earth.
"A small town. Far away. No ninjas, just regular people. Quiet place."
Konan stared at him for a long moment. Ryouhei tried not to shake. He had nothing to offer. He didn't belong here.
But then she spoke again.
"Amegakure accepts those who can help it. You cannot fight. So tell me—what can you do?"
This was his chance.
"I'm good with trade," he said. "Back home, I ran a small business. Buying, selling, making deals. If you let me stay, I can help. I can set up a shop, help move supplies—whatever you need."
He leaned forward, trying to sound confident even though he felt like collapsing.
"I may not be a ninja, but I'm not useless."
For the first time, Konan's expression changed slightly. A flicker of curiosity, or maybe interest.
"A merchant," she said quietly. "Amegakure needs food, weapons, medicine. If you can help with this… you may have a place here."
Ryouhei nodded fast. "I can do that. Just tell me what to do."
Konan gave him one last look, then turned away.
Konan's lips moved slightly—almost a smile, but not quite. Still, it made Ryouhei's heart jump.
"You'll be watched, Ryouhei Kurozawa," she said. "Prove your worth, and you can stay. Fail, and the rain will be the last thing you see."
"Got it," he replied, his voice steadier than he expected. "I won't let you down."
She turned toward the door, her cloak rustling like paper in the wind. "Rest here tonight. Tomorrow, you'll meet the people in charge of supplies. They'll see if you're telling the truth."
"Wait," Ryouhei said, then instantly regretted it when she looked back at him. Still, he pushed through the fear. "If you could help me get started.. maybe give me some shop or placce? I don't want to mess anything up."
Konan stared at him, unreadable. Then she gave a small nod.
"I'll make sure you have what you need. But don't mistake this for kindness."
With that, she walked out, her body breaking into sheets of paper that vanished into the rain.
Ryouhei let out a shaky breath and leaned back in the chair. Somehow, he was still alive—still here, in the Hidden Rain Village. Konan hadn't killed him. In fact, she was giving him a chance to start something. A business. In a ninja world.
It sounded insane. But it was his only way to survive.
Outside, the rain poured down, loud against the metal walls.
"At least it's not the Chunin Exams," he muttered, running a hand through his wet hair.