Chapter 1: The end of the road:
The comic con convention had been everything they'd hoped for and more. Frank adjusted his rear-view mirror, catching a glimpse of the Naruto headband still tied around Tom's forehead in the backseat. The orange fabric looked ridiculous against his friend's grinning face, but Frank had to admit the weekend had been worth it.
"I still can't believe you actually bought that replica kunai set," Jack said, carefully examining the foam weapons Tom had insisted on purchasing. "What are you going to do with twelve throwing knives that can't actually cut anything?"
"Practice my form, obviously!" Tom declared, nearly bouncing in his seat despite the seatbelt. "You saw that demonstration by the stunt coordinator. If we ever get isekai'd, I want to be ready!"
Frank snorted, rain pelting the windshield as he navigated the winding mountain highway back home. "Right, because that's definitely how the universe works. Some cosmic entity is just waiting to drop us into an anime world."
"Hey, stranger things have happened," Tom shot back. "Besides, you're the one who spent two hours asking talking about different Naruto techniques and how you could apply them to real life."
"That was research," Frank muttered, though he could feel his ears burning. The guy had been surprisingly knowledgeable was all."
Jack chuckled from the passenger seat, flipping through the limited edition manga volume he'd picked up. "At least you didn't spend three hundred dollars on a genuine contact lens set like someone I know."
"Those were an investment!" Tom protested. "Do you know how rare lavender contacts that actually look like the Byakugan are?"
"They're coloured contacts, Tom. From a costume shop."
"Yeah, details!"
Frank found himself relaxing despite the worsening weather. This was what he loved about their friendship—the easy banter, the shared obsessions, the way they could argue about fictional power systems for hours without anyone taking it personally. They'd been doing this dance since secondary school, when a chance meeting in the anime club had turned three very different lads into inseparable best friends.
Frank had been the reluctant member, dragged there by a teacher who thought he needed to "socialise more" after a particularly spectacular outburst at a group getting into a fight. Tom had been the overeager newcomer, bouncing between conversations about a dozen different series. And Jack had been the quiet observer in the corner, taking notes on character development with easy going conversation turning into hours of debates.
Somehow, they'd clicked. Frank's protective instincts, Tom's boundless enthusiasm, and Jack's analytical mind had formed a perfect triangle of friendship that had survived secondary school drama, sixth form pressure, and now their first year of university.
"Speaking of power systems," Tom said, leaning forward between the front seats, "we never finished our argument from earlier. Chakra versus ki—"
"We've had this debate literally dozens of times," Frank interrupted, windshield wipers working overtime against the heavy rain. "You always say chakra, Jack always says ki, and I always point out that either of them would be badass."
"But if they did exist," Tom pressed on with typical persistence, "which would you want? Come on, hypothetical time. You get isekai'd tomorrow—what power system are you picking?"
Jack looked up from his manga. "Chakra, obviously. The versatility is unmatched. You've got elemental manipulation, transformation techniques, healing jutsu, sensory abilities... Ki is basically just 'punch harder and fly.'"
"See! Jack gets it!" Tom exclaimed, pointing dramatically. "Chakra is way more—"
"Ki has better power scaling," Jack continued calmly, "but chakra has better utility. If I'm getting dropped into a dangerous world, I'd rather have options than raw power."
Frank glanced at his friends in the mirror, seeing Tom's expression shift from triumphant to confused to mildly betrayed in the span of three seconds. "Wait, so you agree with me but you're still choosing the other side?"
"I'm choosing the practical side," Jack corrected. "Raw power doesn't help if you don't know how to use it. At least with chakra, you can start small and work your way up. Tree walking, water walking, basic clones—there's a clear progression system."
"Okay, but consider this," Tom said, holding up one finger like he was making a crucial point. "Instant Transmission."
"Consider this," Jack countered, "Shadow Clone Jutsu. Why teleport when you can be in multiple places at once?"
Frank felt his eye start to twitch—the familiar warning sign that his patience was wearing thin. "Guys, maybe we could talk about something that actually—"
"Oh, come on, Frank," Tom interrupted, grinning. "Don't be such a buzzkill. If you had to pick a ninja clan to be born into, which would it be?"
Despite himself, Frank found his mind wandering to the question. He'd always wondered what it would be like to have such abilities or powers, knowing so many that could come in handy, with others being just OP from the get go.
"There are just so many to choose from, what village, which abilities, are we talking Kekkei Genkai or just ninjutsu?"
"See! You do think about this stuff!" Tom said triumphantly. "Jack, what about you?"
"Hyuga," Jack answered without hesitation. "The Byakugan's sensory abilities would be invaluable for gathering information and avoiding threats."
"You guys are so practical," Tom sighed dramatically. "I'd go Uchiha all the way. Sharingan, fire jutsu, and eventually Susanoo? Yes, please."
"The Uchiha clan gets massacred," Jack pointed out mildly.
"Details! Besides, if I knew it was coming, I could prevent it. Save Itachi from having to make that choice, expose Danzo earlier, maybe even redeem Madara—"
"Tom," Frank said, his voice carrying that edge that meant his temper was starting to fray, "you're talking about preventing a fictional genocide in a fictional world with fictional characters."
"But if it wasn't fictional—"
"It is fictional!"
"But if it wasn't—"
"It IS!"
The truck ran the red light at seventy miles per hour.
Frank had been so focused on talking to Tom that he almost missed the traffic light entirely. The rain had made it hard to see, and by the time he noticed the red glow through the downpour, he was already in the intersection.
That's when he saw the massive eighteen-wheeler barrelling toward them from the cross street, its headlights blazing through the storm like twin suns. The driver was probably dealing with the same visibility issues, probably hadn't seen the light any better than Frank had.
Time seemed to slow as Frank's mind raced through the physics of the situation. The truck was too close, moving too fast. There was nowhere to go—guardrail on one side, oncoming traffic on the other. He could try to gun it, but they'd never make it across in time.
In that frozen moment, Frank felt a strange calm settle over him. After all their debates about power systems and fictional worlds, it was going to be the most mundane thing possible that got them. Not a villain with supernatural powers or a dramatic sacrifice to save the world.
Just bad weather, bad timing, and bad luck.
"Hold on!" he shouted, his hands steady on the wheel despite everything, getting the others attention at the sudden outburst.
The truck slammed into the passenger side at full speed, metal shrieking against metal as physics took over. Frank had just enough time to see his friends' faces—Tom's expression shifting from confusion to understanding, Jack's mind probably calculating their odds of survival even as the world exploded around them.
Then there was only the sound of shattering glass, screaming metal, and the awful finality of impact before silence took over, with nothing but darkness following in its stead.