(AN: Yooooooo, here's our official first chapter of the rewrite, here's hoping I can pump out more than 20 chapters this time💔)
??? POV:
I open my eyes, tears pricking at the corners. Tears? I don't remember going to sleep, but I also don't remember not going to sleep either. I quickly wipe them away and sigh. That's when it hits me;something's wrong.
"...Where am I?" I whisper anxiously. Irrational, sure, but I have no recollection of anything before this and I woke up somewhere completely unfamiliar.
Logically, I was drugged and kidnapped. And given that I'm not tied up or anything, either my kidnappers are extremely confident, or they aren't planning on hurting me. I'm not confident enough to bet on the former.
I sit up, quickly scanning the room. I'm in an apartment of sorts, extremely run-down—wait, my body feels weird. Smaller. Weaker. I swing my legs over the bed, and my eyes widen. My legs are far shorter, and my skin is a few shades too light. I take a sharp breath.
First test: voice.
"Hello?" My voice comes out high-pitched and somewhat raspy. Scarily familiar… but not mine.
I take a deep breath. "Ooookkk, something is definitely wrong," I mutter, trying to familiarize myself with this situation and this new voice.
I step off the bed onto the hard floor and almost immediately stumble. "Ok, test two has similar results. All signs point to one thing…" I start hyperventilating, arriving at a single conclusion.
No.
No.
No.
There's no way. I can't accept this! T-this has to be some sort of dream! The brain does create dream scenarios based on what the body experiences while asleep. Maybe my body is reacting extremely to something happening around it.
…but then again, that's not exactly reassuring. What could possibly trigger my body to react so strongly that my brain constructs such an elaborate dream to communicate with me?
Sigh.
I'm reaching, aren't I? I panicked and tried to rationalize. Stupid. This is potentially life-or-death, and I let myself spiral. That's not like me.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
Ok—"ack!" A quick stab pierces my head, sharp as a needle, not painful, just unexpected. Along with it come a few… fragments. Fragments of someone's life.
The most prominent isn't even a memory, but a taste. Ramen. A Japanese noodle soup. The most exquisite thing that has ever touched my tongue. Strangely, I recall it with extreme clarity—clarity that only comes from firsthand experience. Meaning… I must have eaten it myself. And yet, I have no memory of it ever happening.
Another fact adding weight to the hypothesis I've been avoiding.
"I got isekai'd," I groan into my hands, slumping against the wall. A wave of sadness washes over me. I can't have just left them… how will they survive without me? I question myself, expecting an answer from somewhere. What about my friends? What about Alice? Will she miss me? Will anyone miss me?
I spiral as the situation sinks in. If I'm correct… I'll most likely never see them again. That can't be right? There has to be some way, right? I grip my hair tightly.....my siblings, my friends, my girlfriend.....I'll never see them again. My eyes burn with tears as I stumble as I get up
"No!" I launched a fist against a wall, knuckles bleeding. I broke down sobbing against the wall.
Two hours later:
I slap my cheeks.
'Ok! Enough sulking! You're a genius. Since when do you accept the impossible? If there's no way home, I'll make one!' I forcefully hype myself up.
I groan and get to my feet, finally taking in my surroundings. The apartment is utterly run-down. Wallpaper torn, mold creeping in the corners, windows chipped or completely broken. The furniture barely exists.
My body, for the foreseeable future, isn't any better. Thin, ribs and bones pressing against my flesh. Malnourished. It's a miracle I can even stand.
While exploring, I come across the bathroom. 'Might as well get used to my new mug', I think, trying to amuse myself and ignore the despair coursing through me.
I step inside, noting its size and the stench emanating from the toilet. Ewwww! Did this person ever flush??!! I step out, inhale fresh air, hold it, and step back into the nuclear waste.
First, the lack of water. Poor kid—doesn't even have water. No wonder he couldn't—wait… I sniff myself and gag. "Need to fix the water issue ASAP." I shudder as I move toward the mirror.
Speaking of the mirror—if you can call it that—it's a tiny misshapen piece, broken into an irregular polygon.
I stare straight into it. A mop of red hair and violet eyes stare back.
I blink. "The hell?" I mutter. "I look like a Naruto from one of those 'true Uzumaki' fanfics." At least now I know who I am. I had a suspicion, given the apartment, but confirmation is always nice. This Naruto has longer hair, still spiky, though,and leans more Kushina than Minato.
Wait. Could this mean I'm in an alternate universe and my meta-knowledge is useless? Shit.
Sigh.
It is what it is. Nothing I can do about it now.
Given the apartment's condition, Hiruzen doesn't give two fucks about Naruto. I check his, no-my cupboards. Barely any food, mostly instant ramen packets. How does he even make them without water? How has he survived until now? It's a bit undermined in canon just how much Naruto was neglected.
Ok, let's plan and ignore the pit in my stomach, yay!
Plan of action:
●Explore the village
●Speak to Hiruzen
●Find out where in canon I am exactly
Step one: I leave the apartment, heading down the stairs.
And then it happens.
Whispers. Glares. They're suffocating. Definitely capable of shattering a young child. Luckily, I'm from the 21st century, where kids half my age are exposed to the darkness of the world. Thick skin was mandatory.
I endure. I try to ignore it, but flinch when a parent yanks their child away.
"Stay away from him!" they scold.
Instinctively, my hand reaches out before I force it down. I snarl. Naruto's emotions are influencing me again. Not optimal. I have to remove them from my subconscious—but for now, I can ignore it.
Another man scoffs. "Look at him, still trying to act normal."
"I know, right? Wonder when it'll stop."
"Honestly, if you ask me, the Third should've put it down a long time ago."
"I agree, especially with how it's trying to influence our children."
…They all look at me with such heavy contempt. I can physically feel their hatred.
I thought I understood what Naruto went through—but this is disgusting. These adults are actively making life hell for a 5- or 6-year-old.
They don't deserve forgiveness. I'm not Naruto. I won't become Hokage. I won't waste my life vying for their attention.
I put my head down and continue to the Hokage tower.
My thoughts linger on those disgusting people, trying to find a way to prove them wrong—ah, Naruto's habits influencing me again. Normally, I wouldn't even let these idiots affect me.
If I can't keep them out of my head, I might as well do something productive. I recall what I know about chakra from the anime.
Chakra is the life energy powering all ninja techniques, formed by blending a shinobi's physical and spiritual energy. My chakra reserves should be larger than canon Naruto's, given my extra spiritual energy.
Chakra flows through pathways like arteries and veins.
I focus inward, blocking every sound. Walking on autopilot, I go deeper, even stopping to close my eyes.
Nothing works. My eye twitches. Of course, I wouldn't grasp this instantly—it was considered fictional before.
I delve deeper, moving toward the darkness within myself, until I find a warm sensation. I try to grasp it repeatedly. It slips through my "fingers" each time. Finally, I manage to hold it. I pull it toward me—but just as I do, my grip slips. Progress is lost.
"...Fucking bullshit," I swear. It feels like something's deliberately interfering—and of course, I forgot about Kurama. The lazy hairball is sabotaging my chakra control.
What can I do about that?
I can't convince him to stop without revealing my past life. No way in hell I'll do that.
If Naruto could brute-force it in canon, so can I.
I sit on a bench, take a deep breath, and focus inward. I zero in on the warmth in my stomach. I grasp it, will it closer.
Stubborn. Slow. Like an irritated donkey. Thanks, fox. I snarl before calming down and forcing an early chakra unlock.
Could it be considered an unlock? I have access all the time, but couldn't use it.
Ahh, theorize later. Next: Hiruzen.
The tower is just minutes away. I put on my best innocent face and approach the receptionist.
"E-excuse me, miss? Is Mr. Hokage available?" Special privileges as the Jinchūriki, I assume—a direct line to the Hokage.
She pinches my cheeks with a smile. "Aren't you just the cutest thing! Hokage-sama is available, little one. Come, I'll take you." She stands and grabs my hand, pulling me along.
I blink.
'So, Hiruzen doesn't have staff who hate Naruto. Makes sense, they interact constantly if he wanted to contact the Hokage.'
We reach Hiruzen's office. I incline my head toward the receptionist. "Thank you very much, miss." Proper Japanese etiquette, right?
She pinches my cheeks again. "So polite too! Go ahead, young man. He's waiting for you."
I nod and enter. Hiruzen looks as expected, robed in glory. I catch a glimpse of orange near his table. 'Perhaps the Icha-Icha series?' Curious… but mom would kill me. Kushina's way better anyway.
"Naruto?" His voice cuts through my thoughts.
Make sure you get my Oscar, yeah?
"…Old man?" I hesitantly look down. He frowns. Good.
"Naruto, what's bothering you, my boy?" I bite my lip and look away.
"Old man… I passed by a training ground the other day. Two Genin sparring… I realized just how weak I am!" I clench my fist.
Improv time. Lazy me skipped the library—likely to be kicked out anyway. Half-lie time.
Hiruzen opens his mouth, but I interrupt. "I know, I should've gone to the library, but the uncle there keeps kicking me out." I speak quietly. The neglected, affection-starved child role comes naturally.
Hiruzen narrows his eyes. "And what exactly do you want me to do, Naruto?"
Hiruzen POV:
The boy is acting strangely. No Kyūbi chakra detected, so it's not mental influence… though that's suspicious. Trust the boy? Perhaps—but I'll keep an eye.
"Anything. Anything to help me become stronger. Doesn't need to be expensive or flashy," he says with uncharacteristic maturity.
Hmmm… possibly kill two birds with one stone. I snap my fingers; a scroll appears in his hand.
"Let's do this." I smile at his confused expression. Just like Kushina. "This scroll contains an academy-level jutsu called 'Transformation.' Learn it, show me, and I will give you more. But only after showing me your resolve and determination. Understood?"
He nods, face set in focus. "Yes, sir!"
"Good. You may leave."
"Thank you, old man," he says warmly before departing. I take a few puffs of my pipe and allow myself a small smile. Even if I can't fully trust this side Naruto, I'll still take care of him.
Naruto POV:
I leave and my smile quickly disappears.
Always disliked the old fool a bit—but damn, that fake smile stings. I start walking, thinking over the interaction.
I deliberately appeared more mature than usual, to command Hiruzen's attention. I want him to see my competence, to witness my genius. Prideful? Maybe. But I had a chip on my shoulder when it came to him
I return home, giddy. My first jutsu! I practically throw the front door open and unroll the scroll.
Scroll Instructions:
1. Stand still and focus. Keep your body steady and concentrate.
2. Decide the form to transform into. Clearly imagine size, face, clothing, and posture.
3. Gather chakra inside your body. Mold chakra evenly.
Spread the chakra over your body. Thin, consistent layer.
4. Form the Transformation hand seals. Maintain focus.
5. Release the chakra all at once. Apply it to your body according to the imagined form.
6. Maintain chakra control to keep the transformation. Continue supplying chakra.
7. Cancel the jutsu by stopping chakra flow.
Seems simple. However… my chakra control is absolute garbage thanks to a certain someone.
I sigh, leave my apartment, gather a handful of leaves, and return. I place a leaf on my forehead, push chakra toward it… and it's shredded instantly.
Sigh.
"…this is gonna take a while."
(AN: I know, super similar to the original, but please bear with me. Real changes will come later. The biggest change so far: Naruto's appearance. Thank you for giving this trashy story a chance—it means a lot.)