Land of fire, Konoha.
Although it was already nighttime, Konoha, the largest shinobi village, was never short of people. The entire street was illuminated by dazzling lights, making the pitch-black night as bright as day. People came and went, walking through the bustling streets.
-???-
A cold wind blew past, making me shiver as I stood on the balcony in my pajamas, eating instant noodles. I couldn't help but sigh:
"Time really does fly!"
It had been almost six months since I had Transmigrated into this world. Back then, it was the height of spring, but now autumn had arrived. However, I still hadn't fully adapted to my new life.
I arrived in Konoha just two months ago. Yes, the multiverse theory you've probably heard about. It's real—at least for me. Let me tell you how it all started.
It was a cold, dark night, and I had a craving for some late-night Chinese food—something spicy enough to make my life flash before my eyes. You know, the kind of meal that makes taco Tuesday look tame.
To be honest, I just wanted something other than my mum's bread and beans, her go-to specialty that we somehow ate every day. So, I set off to my favorite Chinese restaurant. A place that, oddly enough, had black waiters, Indian chefs, and a Korean owner—yet not a single Chinese person in sight.
Still, their food was incredible, the prices were low, and it was cleaner than most places I could afford. Definitely better than my nan's bread and beans.
As I strolled through the streets of London, enjoying the crisp night air, my luck took a turn. A group of hooligans jumped me, demanding I empty my compartments of my pantaloon. I resisted. I fought. I lost. And, well, I died.
You know the drill: stuck in a void, mysterious shenanigans happen, and then boom—I woke up here, in the Naruto universe. That's all you really need to know about my past because, let's face it, you're here for the journey, not the backstory.
Looking back, I was on quite an unlucky streak, and honestly, and to a certain extent it's still going. My luck was so bad I didn't even get time for the existential crisis most fanfic protagonists go through—the kind where they undergo a complete 180-degree personality change, becoming either a bloodthirsty maniac or a relentless that fucks every woman he sees like a Pokémon hoarder catching all the Pokémon's he see.
For me, things are far more complicated. I think I've been dropped into a somewhat realistic version of this universe.
Although there were computers and TVs, the cultural industry itself hadn't developed much, and there were only a few works to watch. By yesterday, I had already finished them all.
When I first Transmigrated, I was quite excited as any normal person would after getting a second chance. I had solved the issue of my identity and language, just by having to deal with a head-splitting migraine that according to me lasted for days but, in reality, only lasted for a few hours. It however did give me a minor PTSD of some sort.
From what I could gather from memories of this body I inhabited. He was the only son of a traveling merchant and a Kunoichi. Both died at the hands of some bandit when they were traveling to Konoha according to the memories.
The only reason this body or Takumi as he was called could survive was that his mother together with two other shinobi exploded with all the remaining bandits by putting exploding tags on themselves.
The bandits managed to kill almost all the adults of our caravan by poisoning the alcohol somehow. Sadly, for him(me) and the bandit, there was a medical shinobi with us and his(my) mother was also somewhat expert in poison.
Takumi was grieving there for some time, holding his father's corpse which had foam coming out of all his orifices(he did not die a painless death).
Where he was picked up from there by another caravan that was traveling, and he was dropped off in a nearby town. Where I took over the body after the original one took his life.
It took me four months to get to Konoha after that.
There are 2 reason me to come to here after all this. The first being that although I am considered an outsider, his(my) mother was half Inuzuka.
I was pretty much considered an orphan of a Konoha after I gave my identity to the guards guarding the gate and managed to talk to the great Hokage-sama and along with him a Yamanaka clan member who if his expression is anything to go by must have read my memories(my original memories are protected) judging by his horrified expression.
After all who wouldn't after seeing a young child watching his father frothing from his mouth and being able to do nothing, watching his father die a painful death, and the last memories of his mother crying and telling you she is sorry and to go to Konoha and then covered from head to toe in her blood and body parts.
Although I had my own "cheat ability" that was maybe given to me by the R.O.B. that threw me here (there is no way to put it in words how painful the migraine and the memories, and the void were).
In just 15 days, I transformed from a weak shut-in with only as powerful as an average 10-year-old to a shinobi with genin level strength.
But, as soon as the novelty wore off, I became a coach potato again, spending my days at home, after it took a month to get into Konoha and get myself a room.