A swarthy guy with light-brown hair tied in a ponytail and a deep scar across his nose bridge unrolled a scroll with the list of orphanage kids admitted to the Academy.
There weren't that many kids my age. Fourteen total, three girls. I expected more when I realized what shit I'd landed in.
If God exists—and I've lost all doubt about that—His sense of humor is five plus.
But such unfulfilled expectations from the "shinobi" world weren't my biggest problems.
In fact, though I'm now the main hero of the anime, there's a catch...
Naruto's position, frankly, isn't enviable, and honestly, it's downright shitty.
Orphan, no inheritance, demon sealed inside, so most of the superstitious locals treat you... Best case, ignore you. Sometimes, when they'd let us out to the playground near the orphanage, mostly evenings, older kids didn't hesitate to throw pebbles at me or try to steal my grocery bag. Even under caregiver supervision.
Just walking the local market was tricky; almost all the sweepers tried to chase me off, and merchants always looked at me like... Well, you get it...
Besides language issues, which made me seem "not the sharpest kid," there were these, and the world itself was one big problem.
I said goodbye to comfy solo living in a two-room apartment, and civ perks like computer, internet, phone. But as a surprise, no gas stoves (at least in the orphanage), no mosquito screens, no roach killers, etc... And time dragged on forever, though recalling the orphanage, it felt like just a couple weeks.
My first memory was moving into barracks-like quarters.
Orphans lived in small rooms fitting four double beds, a mat, a couple nightstands for stuff, and a small table. I was almost five when they took me to that room and first called me "Naruto."
I was pretty shocked...
Honestly, only the changed voice stopped me from unleashing a barrage of prime Russian swears on everyone.
They fed us well, though. Gotta give 'em that. I always ate my fill, even got punished for not finishing.
When Teacher Iruka arrived at the orphanage, everything changed sharply. They already monitored kids' physical development; skipping morning exercises or evening PE was impossible. But after he gathered all my age group and announced only three slots for Academy entry, I was shocked twice.
First... I barely recognized the anime Iruka in this huge half-Asian with a ponytail. In reality, the guy looked tough. Load-bearing vest and tactical belt stuffed with pouches full of various cold and other weapons. Pants tucked into high boots, palms looked intimidating. Calloused, scarred, rough hands with long fingers. One fist nearly my head size, though maybe my small stature makes it seem so. Either way, I'd never mouth off to him. Anime Naruto is recklessness and bravery personified.
Second... Only three out of fourteen make the cut, personally selected by Iruka. Half a year prep. At five and a half, Shinobi Academy awaited, which locals just called "Academy." They knew what it meant.
Despite Academy popularity, only seven candidates, all boys. Naturally, I stepped forward without much thought if I even wanted it. Not to play canon Naruto—no way... I'd rewatched key original "Naruto" moments right before dying to compare with the "sequel." I remembered the main plot well. Everything I knew about this world screamed: "don't stay a civilian" and whatever my life became... I doubt I'd survive the original Naruto's path; I'd get killed between twelve and fifteen, or some anomaly happens, or I wake up in that damn minibus...
Anyway, from that day, like the other seven, I tormented myself with training. Mostly ramping up basic exercises from caregiver-led mornings.
Except me... Not for nothing at 26 with uni behind. I added free wrestling drills from school, pulling ahead in flexibility and maybe growing a bit taller... Me and three "forced comrades" from the orphanage scavenged junk village-wide at night for a five-year-old "gym."
Stealing knives, we threw at trees from across the yard or straight-up escaped the orphanage regularly. Iron crowbar was great aid, plus wooden sticks to beat shit out of each other. Didn't fight with crowbar, just weighted exercises.
Competition was fierce, including unhealthy. Some orphanage kids were headcases who hated me. Mostly 'cause they were all Asian-looking, and I'm blue-eyed blond, almost Aryan, damn it. First attacks pre-Iruka, but cop skills don't vanish isekai'd; tying dumb kids in knots was easy. Even street idiots stopped throwing rocks when they realized two can play, and I threw way accurate and dodged better.
Caregivers didn't like my bullshit: corner time, painful headslaps, sometimes locked solo in storage, then forced to help older orphans with shittiest cleaning. But I didn't quit, kept being an asshole... I'm Naruto, after all, right?
Problems, sure—like can't headbutt kids three-four years older physically, max run, hide, ambush.
Shinobi or what?
All beatings that didn't kill made me a total psycho in peers' eyes; only one provoked a fight in half a year. He tasted sand from my sweeps and back kicks several times, then cried after face punches and surrendered. As I got off him amid caregiver yells, I glimpsed Teacher Iruka on a power line by the next building, smiling at me. Blinked and shook head, gone.
Hallucination or really watching?
And this guy, now "Iruka-sensei" for life, reads the three-name list, and last...
"Uzumaki Naruto!" The named seven stepped forward. Tough exam: run, obstacle course, push-ups, squats, planks, all timed. Iruka clutched stopwatch in right hand.
I came second, nearly coughing lungs. Had to haul ass; everyone tried hard. Only we three finished obstacles—regular escapees from caregivers village-wide. No match in strength; remembered past-life form, just honed.
That evening, Iruka took us from orphanage to Academy dorm, announcing he's now father, mother, god, tsar, gen sec for us. Same room style, but solo beds with changeable linens we washed ourselves.
Academy was huge life upgrade. Good lighting, not one bulb per room. Desk, nightlight, wardrobe, nightstand, bookshelf. Separate toilet room, sink. Shared showers and kitchen still, but it'll be my turn for holiday. Plot-wise, Naruto had a one-room apartment?
Can't wait...
Ken—the fight guy—passed too, now neighbors. Third bunked corridor-end. Few others per floor. Early mornings, saw Lee, year older than Naruto. Easy to spot: greasy hair in girl braid, wide Chinese eyes, stood out. Double morning exercises, double evening training. Up first, dinner-leaver first from communal cafeteria.
Why Chinese? Looks had nuances. Not expert Chinese-vs-Japanese, but Lee seemed more Chinese.
Me? No Asian trace. Slight Buryat maybe... Mirror: small, wide-eyed blond, big nose, bright blue eyes. Naruto now not Japanese kid-like.
Half village Asian-looking. Plenty European, Semitic too. Iruka: Slav-Japanese mix over pure Japanese. Swarthy, but tan (beach time when?!). Half-Asian.
Our class, assembled days later: full set.
Girls first... Sakura: ordinary Slavic girl, green eyes, cute—not surprised original Naruto crushed long. Couldn't tell if pink hair dye or natural... If dye, top quality. Stared, no root difference visible.
Ino: cuter my view, but "blue-eyed blond" had Asian hint. If Iruka half, she quarter.
Couple standard Tatar girls, nothing special. Hinata... Honestly, don't know how to describe. What I saw...
Fuck... Real bad. Especially eyes. Chubby cheeks okay... Bob haircut when girls wore longer. Swear, saw some measure hair lengths in hall. At five-six. Second world cross, I bailed; first cross: seeing Princess Hinata.
Chubby cheeks, thin lips, my-wide eyes, thin brows, Byakugan...
That shit in eyes looks creepy. Seen cat eyes reflect light? Same: two pupil-less silver saucers. Brr... Byakugan inactive. Imagine activating...
Hope I get used or fuck communicating. What did Naruto see? She's ugly...
Shikamaru—pure Japanese—pleased. Ponytail growing at five-half.
Fatty... Choji... Well... Fat already at five-half, but half-Asian. Something European... More Chinese, don't ask...
Academy day: exercises even weekends. Props to Teacher Iruka. Full stretch/warmup. Pre-warmup so we don't die. Then run. Lots, till someone (Choji) crashes. If Choji, run till Shikamaru drops—not endurance issue. Outdid me first year... Just faked to slack.
Half-hour shower/dress, breakfast, classes.
Classes: academic—writing, reading, math, drawing; practical—kunai/shuriken sharpening. Tricky. Broke weapons. Kunai fragile or shitty issue... Iruka took to woods: fires, Soviet scout school. Tree-climb, hide, seek? Why not... Fun till exam.
PE: gymnastics, hand-to-hand. Other instructors besides Iruka. Gray one—Mizuki? Tyrant worse. Once squatted 200+ for "shit." Then dug shit pits solo. Even made clean them!
Shit-pit cleanup: after class shits/pisses, pack in bags, bury in backpack. Shinobi leave no trace. Ideally self-clean post-toilet, but for my "shit," he made all shit sans cleanup: "Naruto'll clean your shit!"
Asshole, not sensei. Girl rep doomed. Decided Russian swearing. Let Japs decide punishment.
First Academy years like that; now eight-half.
Studies: near straight-A...
Why near? Well...
Japanese writing: progressed well. But Teacher Iruka dubbed me "Toad-Scribe."
Says I write like frog paw. Offended? Dunno. Early practical issues, but adapted quick. Shikamaru, Ken, Choji helped. Didn't bully fat... Choji, helped PE. Shikamaru followed. Dragged him runs; he carried our hike gear.
This year: real shuriken/kunai targets. Before: Iruka pebble throws at each other—no headshots. Head-hit: punishment.
Punishments suck, as you get. First year, class tried avoiding; Iruka/Mizuki tyrants competing. Later realized gray spared me. Iruka's creative. Last half-year: zero punishments.
But spoke too soon; handwriting issue beyond standard—extra self-prep till evening, rewriting texts till decent.
Promoted "One-Armed Scribe." Good: math, drawing, memorization fine. Fitness leader, but max third now; tore ass for it—extra classes, killed weekends. Not strength/technique. Hand-to-hand fine vs. year. Exotic: water-cup head walk. Leaf-forehead obstacle run—no one yet but Iruka/Mizuki. Balance monsters. Log-jumps, ladder-climbs, tightrope, run/jump sans wind leaf-blow... Respect.
Kunai/shuriken: decent. Clan kids worse: only Shikamaru (weekend secret: faster/better, lazy) and fat... Choji.
First year: training fights.
Time show three+ years partner drills. Much learned.
Five-six sweeps I didn't know past-life. Strikes familiar, but jumps pro-wrestling here serious. Wrestling light: pain holds, arm-twists, hip-throws—not my knot-tying/anti-knot world tech.
Easiest: beat Ken again. Tried revenge, lagged all params, skipped extras/Shikamaru/Choji offers—lost embarrassingly. Worse: Tatar girls; Sakura beat one, Ino nearly crippled other.
Dodged most punches showy, caught arm midair throws. Attacked awkward, I faster/blocked, final sweep/back elbow. Iruka victory, but helped up, offered medbay escort—so missed Shikamaru vs. Sasuke, saw result: black eye, busted lip, limped days.
Sasuke: new-life highlight. Total rich kid, ahead planet-wide, class bored "why here?"
Justified: eight-year-old lapped peers fitness/literacy. Hand-to-hand? Silent. Older kids tried; no one touched Uchiha genius. Jackie Chan/Englishwoman bastard. Too pale Japanese, Asian eyes, long black hair...
Shikamaru unlucky first spar, told me/fatty...
"Better not even try Uchiha."
"I can't..." Choji near-whined. "Dad won't get instant surrender."
"Don't care, won't back sans try."
"Especially you, Naruto." Shikamaru stressed.
"Why?"
"Uchiha felt edge vs. me; your aggression... Piss him, size gap—he'll cripple. Choji fine, taps two hits."
"Shikamaru, I can hit back." Insisted.
"Fine, three." Shikamaru conceded Choji stamina.
I shut up.
Shikamaru 100% right; only genin grads beat Sasuke now. No chance, but my rep as brawler/orphan/swear— no instant tap.
Soon: Lord-Hokage Academy visit buzz.
Not rare, but max fuss even minor. 80-level for Hokage.
Old man visited before, half-yearly to shinobi-to-be. Our class: losers unseen. Hike/excursion during. Once Hokage Residence tour, Iruka stories amid stone faces—but old man out-country.
Time came.
Saw face: recalled spotting during orphanage/Academy dorm escapes.
Communicative old Semite. Pointed roads/patrols to me/Ken sans catch. Straight back, sometimes hard. White robes/symbol hat, two bodyguards standard body armor/shoulders/collar/loadouts/belts; noticed roof movement next building. Blurry fast.
ANBU spotted?
Maybe, or imagination...
Nothing new. Weekends extra classes over sleep, so fought sleep mid-boring lecture.
Nights: pull special notebook from under bed/wallpaper, write.
Here nine years near, memory fading. Native tongue notes: who I really am, "Naruto" plot recall—future diary, world facts/knowledge.
God, if found (they will if want)... Under-bed torn wallpaper good, not foolproof. Naruto status: old man maybe ANBU watchers.
Fuck liberal old retard.
Forgot Danzou entirely... Real grandpa fear. Especially me.
Next month: spars ramped. Surprisingly, did well—even vs. clan kids.
Shikamaru threw the fight to me by agreement. I fairly beat Choji. All my strikes were like slapping a door to him, but from one of his strikes I almost fell, and that was through a block. After that, I got angry, switched to wrestling, and just choked him out. He, by the way, didn't surrender until he passed out and Iruka stopped the fight.
I also had to go against Kiba, who was a really scary opponent. Fast as a cat in a bathtub, jumpy as a louse, and sharp as a sickle strike to the balls. If the matches were until the first hit or first blood, I would have lost.
I took the first few strong strikes, but managed to get back on my feet and continue the fight despite Iruka's warning that if he lands another one like that on me, he'd stop it himself.
By now, I'd gotten used to his speed and even managed to dodge his lunge, but he also leaped away from my sweep. That's how we spent the entire second round running from each other until Iruka stopped the fight and called it a draw. Kiba was furious since he'd almost beaten me at the start, but the teacher said "almost" doesn't count, and I just nodded with a smug look.
And two weeks later, I finally waited for the moment of truth. Iruka announced the last sparring match of the year before winter began. They decided not to hold fights outdoors in winter, and the gym wasn't set up for student fights. The next ones would be at the end of spring, right before the year ended.
"Alright, next pair! Quiet!" Teacher Iruka shouted. "Uzumaki Naruto! Step forward." I obediently took a few steps forward and shrugged off my gray hooded sweatshirt, left in just a t-shirt and shorts. "Uchiha Sasuke! Step forward!" Several girls, including Sakura and Ino, started squealing and clapping; I pulled a dissatisfied face in response. "You know the rules—the one who breaks them will be punished! Ready... Fight!"
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan