Sun beamed through the cracks in the curtains, forcing Blake to force his eyes open. Even before properly waking up, Blake knew it was going to be a shit day. Everyone knows that kind of day when they wake up feeling groggy and they desire nothing but to just lay and do nothing.

Unfortunately, Blake had a bunch of shit to do today.

Blake rose, not letting himself close his eyes. He promptly made his way to the bathroom, took his toothbrush, and went to the kitchen. Toast, a few boiled eggs, and some salt - the usual. Spitting the toothpaste into the sink, Blake ate some breakfast, dressed up, and hopped on his bike.

Thirty minutes later, Blake made his way into the construction site, nodding to a few people, before finding his manager. Andrew. Good guy. Smells bad, looks a bit weird with his lazy eye, but, nevertheless, good man.

Andrew spotted Blake, nodding at him. "Had a good morning, Blake?"

Blake forced a smile. "Not so much of a morning, Chief. The cold is picking up again, my fingers are getting numb on that bike."

"You still driving that thing in this weather? Aren't you afraid of getting sick and missing your classes?"

Andrew eyes the locked bicycle in the distance.

"You know, Blake, my offer still stands. I can just pick you up in the morning and, after your shift ends, drop you off at the university."

Blake scratched the back of his head.

"It's fine, really. I wouldn't want to impose...I will figure something out."

"You wouldn't impose! I mean, it's not like it's a long drive. That's the least I can do after..."

Andrew stopped mid-sentence, looking slightly embarrassed and sad at the same time. Blake bit his lip and forced the memories away, trying not to think about anything involving his family. Seeing the pained expression on Blake's face, Andrew put a hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. However, my offers stand nonetheless, you have my number, call me anytime and we can work things out. Your pal was like a brother to me, you know that."

Blake nodded slightly. "So what have you got for me today? Same as yesterday?"

Andrew looked as relieved as Blake to change the topic.

"Nope, we are starting on the third building. You need to help with transportation. Norman, Hugo, and Rafa are going to help you sort that out-"

Andrew pointed at a bunch of rectangular bricks in the distance.

"See those bricks? All of them have to go to the third floor."

Blake liked how professional Andrew became as soon as the topic was about the job.

"Alright, I will find you once I am done."

"Okay, don't push yourself too hard, I know you have got university after. Leave some juice for that. After all, you wouldn't want to be like me, having to sort through bricks and stuff for your entire life, would you?"

Andrew winked at Blake, forcing a little, genuine smile.

"I am off."

Today, the work was difficult. Construction involved a lot of lifting but a lot more walking. Whenever Blake lifted the bricks and went up the stairs, his thoughts flowed freely. Memories surged into his brain, and he had to double the weight he was holding for the strain on his muscles to overpower his thoughts.

Anyway, he was more than happy when he was done with this task. He found Andrew, who gave him a few more things to do and then Blake was done and speeding through the streets of London towards the campus.

It was cold and rainy, but Blake felt a bit more refreshed. Radiohead was blasting into his earbuds as Blake cycled as fast as he could. He couldn't afford to be late. His dad had always said that being late was only for the privileged or the homeless.

"Dad..."

Not being able to hold it off any longer, Blake broke apart. His tears mixed with the droplets of rain on his face, as he continued cycling, gaining speed. He remembered opening the door and feeling the stillness of the apartment. Then Blake saw the body.

Blake bit his lip. The memory was so fresh like it just happened yesterday. He tried his best to forget or move on, yet the memory found him despite his effort. He hated Andrew because he reminded him of his dad every day. He hated his dad for leaving him so soon. He hated everyone. He hated the world.

Yet, most of all, Blake hated himself for not noticing sooner. For not seeing the pain in his dad's eyes, and the struggles that he was going through. For not being enough.

Blake closed his eyes, remembering his lessons with the psychologist. He breathed in, and held the air still for a few seconds before releasing it. After doing it a few times, Blake came out of his stupor, suddenly realizing that he was still on his bike.

"What the fuck?"

Blake was expecting to be somewhere near the school already, yet he was in a completely alien place. He was in a freaking forest. No matter which way he looked, all he saw were abnormally tall trees. The only similarity this place had with his home was the hard rain piling from the sky.

Blake stopped biking, glancing at the ground. Due to the rain, the ground had turned into slimy mud, and his tires were getting stuck in it. Deliberating for an instant, Blake hopped from the bike, landing on the mud.

He looked around again, pinching himself hard on the cheek, yet he remained in the same forest, half-stuck in mud. There were no huge forests like that near where he lived, making the situation even more improbable.

Sweat built on Blake's forehead as he started panicking slightly. The situation made no sense at all. Blake took a few deep breaths, trying to remain calm. Whatever was happening, Blake knew it was not a dream. Everything just felt too real.

Especially the smell. Despite the pouring rain, Blake picked up a strange, disturbing stench surrounding him. It smelled like that piece of chicken that you forget in the back of your fridge for a few months.

Blake hauled his bike on his shoulders, spotting a bush nearby. Blake needed to find someone to help him or at least find a way out of the forest. He couldn't afford to spend a night in this forest, for he knew little to nothing about survival in the wilderness.

Furthermore...this place disturbed him for obvious reasons. Not only did he appear here with no reasonable explanation, but the stench was worrying. Also, it was too quiet. He heard nothing except the droplets hitting the ground.

Blake hid the bike in the bush, making sure it was covered properly. Then, Blake walked up to the tree next to it. It was huge, unnaturally so. Narrowing his eyes, Blake touched the tree, sliding his hand across it. What kind of tree was this?

Suddenly, Blake felt like someone was watching him from behind, so he promptly turned around. No one was there, yet Blake couldn't help but be creeped out. His heart had begun beating more wildly, as Blake took out his iPhone from his pocket. No contact. GPS doesn't work.

Cursing quietly, Blake took one last glance at his surroundings, still feeling like someone was staring at him. Putting his phone into his pocket, Blake sprinted north, sparing no more time remaining in the same position.

Thankfully, Blake had taken good care of his body over the years, so the mud had barely forced a change in his pace. As he was running at a jog to not overexert himself, Blake saw no differences within the surroundings, except the smell.

Whatever was excluding the smell, Blake was not so keen to find out. However, Blake assumed that there had to be something there, and something is better than nothing. As he continued jogging, the stench turned stronger, until Blake stumbled upon the first body.

Then, Blake took one more step forward, and his pupils dilated. Five bodies were hanging from trees, clearly having been left there to rot. Double the number of bodies lay on the ground. Some of them were missing heads, some were simply missing a few limbs. Yet, all of them were dead. Blood mixed with the rain, creating a crimson river that soaked Blake's air forces a different shade.

Blake stared, unmoving, a scene of different magnitude, yet familiar. Falling on his knees, Blake pressed his hands against his heart, vomiting his entire breakfast onto the ground. His heart pounded, as he raised his head once again, seeing that the bodies remained.

"Fear is death, Blake."

This was his dad's favorite quote, and it was the only solace that Blake could find in the middle of these bodies. Blake stood up. There has been a carnage here, and Blake didn't want to have anything to do with it. The bodies had been here for quite a while now, but Blake wanted to leave as soon as possible lest whoever did this found him.

Standing up, Blake walked forward, through the pile of bodies, and away. On his way out of death, Blake noticed a weapon lying on the ground. Without a second of thought, Blake picked it up. It was a kunai, much to Blake's surprise. He had never seen a weapon like that in real life, perhaps only in Asian shows. Naruto, one of his favorite anime's, came to mind specifically.

Naruto. The thought caused Blake to halt his steps. Blake thought for an instant, before taking a deep breath. Fear is death. He walked back to the scene of death, approached a dead man, and stared at his face for a long time.

At first, only a chuckle. Then, Blake began to laugh. Maniacally, confusedly. The man had a metal headband, which had four lines facing downwards. Blake recognized both the headband and the attire worn by the man, which was even more disturbing.

He was in Naruto? No...Blake couldn't make such a conclusion just yet, but it was creepy nonetheless. What the fuck was happening? Blake narrowed his eyes. If he was truly in Naruto, then Blake needed to get the fu-

Blake heard a twig snap behind him. He turned around and his heart almost leaped out of his chest, for there was a face looking at him, barely a few centimeters away from him. Dead, black eyes stared into his soul, and only when Blake looked down did he realize that there was a kunai sticking out from his abdomen.

Blake swung his fist at the man, yet the enemy dodged and then Blake felt himself flying. His head spun as he felt himself land on the ground. Blake tried gritting his teeth, standing up promptly, and grabbing his kunai. Half of his face was numb and he was bleeding profusely from the side, yet Blake could still stand.

The kunai hadn't entered deep into his wound.

Looking around, Blake saw no sight of his enemy. He remembered the man having a headband from the Village of Hidden Stone. Trying to ignore the pain and draw on the memory of the anime, Blake remembered the techniques that the Stone Village shinobi employed. Especially how they stayed hidden.

Blake was turning around every few seconds, trying to not let himself get attacked from the back again. As he kept spinning, his mind raced with ways to not get himself killed. With a corner of his eyes, Blake saw a shuriken flying at him from the left.

Reacting fast, Blake rolled on his side, dodging the incoming attack. Yet, as he to a stop, he felt a sharp pain in his back. This time, Blake didn't hesitate, swinging his kunai and stabbing the person standing behind him. Yet, as soon as Blake stabbed through, the enemy vanished into a puff of smoke.

"Fucking ninjas." Blake cursed, feeling at his other side now. This kunai had been stuck deeply and, as he looked at it, Blake felt himself growing weak. This was dangerous. Blake wasn't an expert on injuries, but he was losing too much blood.

Blake wasn't trained to fight, even less to kill. He might have a good condition from working on construction, but he was weak nonetheless, especially against an actual shinobi. And, whoever, this guy was, he felt like a professional.

Blake had to do something that his enemy wouldn't expect. Do something, perhaps, that even Blake himself wouldn't expect of himself. He looked around and then began sprinting south, his full speed, gritting through the pain.

Fear is death.

Blake took a deep breath and then bellowed as loudly as he could. "HELP! STONE VILLAGE ATTACKING!" As he continued shouting, Blake promptly slid the headband of rain village on his head. When Blake was looking at the bodies, he noticed something.

Considering the number of Rain Village bodies, Blake had to be somewhere not far away from the Rain Village or their military base. Otherwise, it wouldn't make sense that this guy was just camping here, in the middle of nowhere.

Of course, Blake could be wrong and then he would be practically shouting for his death. Yet, in case Blake was not wrong, his enemy would want to finish him as soon as possible now that he had begun shouting, and Blake could use that to his advantage. It was a gamble.

Blake kept running, but it was eerily quiet. Steeling his nerves, Blake finally noticed what he was looking for. A stone. Blake ran up to it, stopped, and grabbed his kunai more tightly as he pretended to be panting.

Then, his eyes flashed red, and Blake stuck the kunai into the stone. He met resistance, yet not the one you would expect from a stone. The illusion of the stone slowly disappearing, revealing a hunched man staring at Blake with shock, a kunai stuck in his throat.

Despite the situation, Blake smiled down at the man. "Your stone trick won't work on me for the third time, you bastard." Then, Blake twisted the kunai and saw death in the man's eyes. Pushing him away, Blake held the bloody kunai, staring at the man he had killed.

He had killed.

Blake felt numb. This day had been too much for him that at this point he cared little. He had seen too much. Exhaling, Blake felt himself growing weak. The kunai sticking from his side had fallen down as he was running, and now Blake was bleeding an abnormal amount of blood.

He felt weak and empty.

Yet, at that moment, Blake saw something appear in his vision.

[Conditions fulfilled]

[The Summoning System Activated]

The shock of seeing the screen in front of him was amplified by the shinobi standing behind it. He looked around. Around thirty Rain Village Shinobi were surrounding him, wearing dark apparel.

Blake raised his hands weakly.

Then, he passed out.