Chapter Text
[ Nara Jun ]
The first thing I think when I wake up is, goddamn drunk shitwad, smashing his car into a couple of teenagers. Then, I think, wait, aren't I supposed to be dead?
And then I have an existential crisis because I open my eyes and find that I’m a small child. Just kidding. I’m weirdly calm as I survey the room, noticing that, wow, I’m in the hospital. What the hell. It’s strange that I’m calm, because the last memory I have is full of pain and screeching tires because the guy probably tried to put the brakes on before he fucking ran us over.
Asshole.
I shake my head and try not to tempt the crisis.
The more I think, the more information I am supplied with. God knows where it’s from, but I am still not questioning things. Nope, not at all.
My name is Nara Jun. Wait, no, it’s Theodore Võ.
I am eight years old, and my birthday is on November 22nd.
Nara. I don’t really mean for it to, but the first place my mind goes is the Nara clan from Naruto.
“R.I.P.,” I say out loud, and then cringe because my voice is really small and high-pitched. And because saying that out loud just isn’t the same as texting.
My father is Nara Hirotaka. Well, that’s new. That’s not his name, although these days I avoid thinking about my father as much as I can. My mother is Nara Chiyo. That’s . . . also not my mother’s name. Much like my father, I don’t like to think about her too often.
I am an academy student in the Hidden Leaf.
Hold the fucking phone, what?
Am I really in the Narutoverse?
I force myself to calm down and think.
So I’m supposedly the daughter—and that word feels nasty in my head, and I will have to do something about this—of two people from the Nara clan. I’m Shikamaru’s cousin on his mother’s side.
I frown a little, still in that pesky state of denial, because there’s no way that I’m seriously in the fucking Narutoverse of all things . . . but. But. I’ve read enough self-insert fics to at least be paranoid of it happening.
I cringe again. That sounded horrible, but it’s true.
The crisis decides to show up at this exact moment.
I’m supposed to be dead. I’ve always been so afraid of death, afraid of becoming nothing and seeing nothing and hearing nothing and not even ever existing in the first place, because if I’m dead and gone then it never mattered and—
—and I’m alive, apparently, which means that at some point I’m going to have to die again—
—and the door slams open.
I hardly notice this, caught up in thoughts that I stole some little girl’s life while she was just a little girl, that I deprived her of the chance to live with her parents and hopefully be happy and that death is terrifying and I hope she’s not just gone, that she’s in a better place and I’m sorry for taking her life, because this is definitely life, it feels much to real to be a dream—
“Jun!” a voice that I instantly recognize as my father’s cries. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, there was so much paperwork. You’re awake! Great! We were so worried! Your mother’s coming, she just had to finish setting up the house. How do you feel?”
I take in his appearance as un-weirdly as I can, and some part of me rejoices to see him, calms down at the sight of him. Probably the actual Jun part of me, and okay, I should start thinking of myself as Jun. Because I am Jun, or I’m known as Jun.
I . . . am getting off-track, I realize. Which is another problem.
He’s got really, really long brown hair in a tight braid, tied off with a thick black scrunchy. His face kind of reminds me of Shikaku’s, but his features are softer and his eyes are a lighter shade of brown. All in all, he’s pretty good-looking. I don’t know what I look like yet. Hopefully not too bad. And I don’t know what my mom looks like, even though the ghost of an impression keeps trying to grab my attention.
“I’m fine,” I say, only remembering his question just now. “I mean, what—what even happened?”
Hirotaka—dad?—bites his lower lip. “Heart attack. You were out training in the clan grounds—and you just collapsed. We were so worried.” Hirotaka draws closer to my bed, and some part of me, the Jun part, tells me I should hug him. I ignore it because I don’t know this man at all, even if he is supposedly my dad. “But I’m so glad you’re okay now. We didn’t have any of our usual med-nin in the compound, so it was all we could do to rush you to the hospital. When they told me and your mom that you’d had a heart attack . . . I knew that you would be under the care of professionals, that you’d pull through, but some part of me wonders—what if my little girl had died?”
I’m kind of tearing up at this point, because it’s hard not to sympathise with that kind of love, even if I’ve never been a parent. If I had someone I loved that much, and I thought they were going to die—I’d probably be inconsolable. As it is, I’m already starting to panic because my significant other is—and then, the rest of what my dad said catches up to me.
His little girl.
“I’m not a girl,” I say reflexively, and then I have an oh shit moment where I feel like that was very much the wrong thing to have said.
“Um,” Hirotaka says intelligently. “Really?”
“Really,” I insist, ignoring—and, fuck me, that’s becoming a habit now, ignoring everything that should be common sense—the instinct I have that tells me to stop talking.
Sorry, Jun, wherever you are. I’ve hijacked your life and now I’ve hijacked your gender identity.
That thought makes me want to giggle until I remember that I’ve probably killed some poor little girl and shoved her soul out of her body so that I could inhabit it. But . . . heart attack. I hope she died before this, and then I inwardly flinch, because that is an awful thing to hope for.
Maybe I should just stop thinking.
“Uh, okay then,” Hirotaka says. I try to think of him as dad again. It makes me feel weird, but I think it’ll get better with time and practice. “Does that mean you’re a boy?”
“No, uh—no,” I say, glad that he’s at least better than some people I know. Knew. “I’m non-binary. I like to go by they/them pronouns.”
“Okay,” Hirotaka says. “Cool.”
I nod awkwardly, not sure how to feel.
Judging from the tears that are slowly making their way down my face, I’d say happy.
Stupid fucking tears.
The last time I came out as anything, my mom told me that I was being selfish and a burden to the family and that she hoped I’d return to normal soon, among other things. My dad told me that I was a girl and my genes said it and whoever told me that I could be anything else is a fucking liar.
Good times.
“J-Jun? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
But the fact that this man, who I don’t even know but who knows me, this man who it must have been a total surprise for and who had probably been completely blindsided by this, had just accepted it at face value.
I scrub the tears away from my face and resolve to stop crying, like, yesterday.
Weird. I’ve never been this in-control of my emotions before, and I’ve never really been that analytical either. It must be the Nara in me. Cool. I get to be a lazy genius, hell yeah.
And maybe I should pick up a verbal tic. It seems that almost every Naruto character has one.
“I was scared you wouldn’t accept me,” I say. It’s kind of a lie. Maybe. Well, it certainly isn’t the full story.
“Of course I would accept you! You’re my child. I’ll love you no matter who you are,” my dad says, and I shrug helplessly before starting to cry again, because where was this love before I came here?
Before long, my eyes start to feel heavy and Hirotaka says that he’s going to go see if my mom is here yet, if she’s been held up by long lines or whatever. I can’t really bring myself to process his words, because I’m just that tired.
The last thought I remember having before I drift off to sleep is that I’ve been speaking in Japanese this whole time. Oh, well. I trust that the magic dimension-hopping powers that sent me here in the first place gave me the ability to speak it fluently. I’ve always wanted to learn a third language.
[ Inuzuka Yoko ]
The first thing I do upon realizing I'm alive is fall back asleep. It's no surprise, but it probably should be.
I am an Inuzuka, I literally thrive on being awake and energetic. It's in my bones, in my blood, all that shit. Then again. No. Fuck being awake. Inuzuka? What? And why am I thinking in two languages. That's so weird. What the hell.
Anyway. I'm awake for real now , obviously, but whatever. I'm pretty much being smothered by my dog—well, my mom's dog, Akane.
Ugh. Hospitals are awful and gross and disgusting and I hate—
Wait.
Who the fuck is Akane, and why am I not freaking out over the fact that there is a giant dog this close to me oh god I'm going to cry I hate dogs what the f—
And why am I so tiny. I'm like a stick someone broke in half.
And my mom is not this woman, why is my mom wrong? I'm so confused, what the fuck is happening in my brain right now oh god—
Ahem.
In any case. Did I pass out or something? Last thing I remember . . . Hmm, fainted suddenly while sparring with someone? No, no, that must've been a few days ago . . . Was it mom or Kiba? Or maybe I was helping Fumiko train? Or was Hana training me? Fuck, why the hell can't I remember?
God, my memory is shit.
But . . . Even so . . . Who is Fumiko? Why am I thinking about sparring? What the hell am I acting so weird for?
Or . . . I think I was hanging out with my significant other and some shitwad ran over us. Something like that.
Significant other?
Hm. What even is my . . . Octavia? Snow? Yes. That. Octavia Snow.
No. Who? Yoko. I am Inuzuka Yoko. I think.
That sounds—
“Yoko! Open your fucking eyes, I can tell you're awake!”
I grumble unintelligibly and wave the woman away. “Go.”
There's a cackle, and suddenly I'm being smothered by more than just dogs. My mom—Inuzuka Harumi—and my little sister—Inuzuka . . . Fumiko? Yes, Fumiko—are practically strangling me and I feel really uncomfortable and really happy at the same time and I'm so confused what is this.
Deciding not to dwell on it, I snort and shove them away. “Stupid. What even happened?” I'm slurring my words and that is not normal, how long was I asleep? More importantly, why the hell am I speaking . . . I think it's Japanese? Sounds like it. Kind of. Not Korean, probably. Not English, and I don't recognize any other languages enough to tell. So, Japanese.
“You had a damn heart attack! The hell, kid, those are for us old people! Not nine-year-olds!” Mom complains. “Don't do that shit to us, Yoko! You scared the shit outta Kiba, he almost had a heart attack with you!"
“Good! Little shit deserves it for being so cocky! A misogynistic child’s all he is,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Gods help us all when someone gets cocky around you, hm?” Mom smiles. “Now! You wanna eat, or you wanna sleep?”
“Don't make me choose , you heathen.”
More cackles from mom, and silence from baby (she's technically almost three, but fuck you, she’s a baby and I am never going to let her forget it) Fumiko, and I finally sit up.
“Well! Good thing I brought some food in then, huh? Don't push yourself too hard, we don't know if you're still suffering side effects of the heart attack. Honestly, you about died! Your heart was stopped for almost two minutes! Stupid kid, making me worry,” mom says, frowning as she shoves a styrofoam box on my lap.
I raise an eyebrow, shifting the box and putting it on the nightstand. I think I have an idea of what’s going on now. “I feel fine. You sure you're not exaggerating? Surely I couldn't have . . . Died and come back to life. That's just silly.” I'm not sure how convincing my tone is, but mom rolls her eyes and Fumiko crosses her arms.
“You’re stupid,” Fumiko says. “I'm gonna go to dad. Don't die again.”
I roll my eyes and wave at her as she exits the room, my mom leaving with her. “Don't die again,” she says, obviously trying to be dramatic and failing.
Inuzuka are so dramatic.
[ Nara Jun ]
“Yeah, but they’re boring.”
“Shikamaru, all we wanted is for you to visit them! You two used to be such good friends!”
“They’re so old though.” That is probably Shikamaru.
“The difference is one year. One year.” And that would be Hirotaka.
And then I frown because I’m suddenly reminded, totally and completely randomly, that some drunk dickbag ran over me and my significant other and that she’s probably dead. I hate life so much right now, and that probably sounded like a joke but it really, really wasn’t.
I crack an eye open, and then another. “Shikamaru?” I ask.
“Jun,” he says in response.
Which pretty much completely absolutely confirms the fact that I’ve been catapulted into the Naruto world.
“I’m bored,” I say, because I really am. I then turn to the med-nin in the corner of the room. “When can I get out of here?”
“Your father is signing your release forms right now,” the med-nin says, and sighs. “You shouldn’t leave until the papers are finished, but. Well. This is a shinobi hospital, isn’t it?”
I understand exactly what she’s talking about, so I immediately stand up and walk out the door, throwing a wave over my shoulder and ignoring the offended spluttering that’s undoubtedly coming from Shikamaru.
“Jun, you can’t just leave me here—”
“—watch me,” I interrupt, sliding the door behind me with a little more force than is necessary.
I think Shikamaru’s already beginning to annoy me, and that just highlights the fact that I’m horrible with small children. Except my little cousins. I will love them forever. Unless they don’t exist anymore because I’m here, which is a thought that I am absolutely unwilling to entertain.
In any case, I step outside, and . . .
I realize that I don’t have even the slightest notion of the layout of this hospital. Then I realize that there are helpful signs that point me in the direction of the stairs. I start to walk, and good god why is this tiny little body so short and also why do I have muscles?
Muscles. At eight years old, this body has more muscles than I did when I was seventeen. Am seventeen.
Ugh.
I’ve already accepted that I’ve been dropped into the Naruto universe, but it’s hard to actually accept that I am not me anymore. I’m short. I hate being short. Not that I was tall before, but I wasn’t short.
At least I’m stronger than I used to be. But I’m a kid.
Ugh.
I need to stop saying ugh.
Ugh.
I think this is going to be my verbal tic. I’m already saying it way more than I would otherwise, but I guess that this kind of situation warrants it. I mean, I literally died and was brought to life again. I literally fucking died. I think I deserve to be disgusted with some things.
“You had a damn heart attack!”
I stop suddenly, in front of one of the hospital rooms. Does someone know I’m walking past? That doesn’t sound like the voice of anyone I know.
The person—a woman, I’m assuming—continues to talk, and I deduce that she isn’t addressing me.
Did I really just think that? God, my Nara must be coming through already.
Ugh.
Not that it’s a bad thing. It’s just different. And also, I kind of sound like one of those online assholes that would have said something exactly like that. “Deduce that she isn’t addressing me.” Yikes. I frown, and go back to listening to—eavesdropping on—their conversation.
“ . . . outta Kiba, he almost had a heart attack with you!”
I’m going to make an educated guess and say that whoever had a heart attack is an Inuzuka.
Huh.
But I don’t know anything about the age of the person who had a heart attack, so I listen silently and hope that I can pick up some more details.
“Stupid kid, making me worry.”
Unless whatever Inuzuka is speaking is weird and calls adults kids, I’m going to assume that this is actually a kid, which would be weird because I literally just had a heart attack a day ago.
And on that note, I need to stop saying literally. Whatever.
I lean on the wall outside the room because, fuck, I’m definitely going in there in a little while, after whoever is visiting this person gets the hell out.
After not too long, some Inuzuka-looking woman walks out of the room, accompanied by the cutest kid I’ve ever seen in my life. Just kidding. Nobody will ever be as cute as my little cousins. Nobody.
“Don’t die again,” she says gravely—dramatically? I’m not really sure what she’s trying for, but I don’t think it works. In any case, I wait until they’re out of sight and then slide the door to the room open. I move forward a little too quickly, though, and my foot catches the door as I’m still fucking opening it and I go flat on my face in front of a total stranger.
“Shit fuck goddamn,” I mutter, and for some reason it’s in English this time. Oh, well. Swearing, for me, has always been easier in English than in any other language. “I fucking hate everything, especially doors.”
[ Inuzuka Yoko ]
I stare at this child—who is swearing up a storm, in English, what the fuck—blankly for a good minute, and when I finally react, it's with laughter and an English response, “Well, okay then! And who the fuck are you?”
“Uh. Well. Nara Jun, probably,” the kid says. “Also, how the hell do you speak English.”
It isn’t a question.
I nod, feeling like I’m patronizing this kid, kind of but also not really just, you know, and say, “Oh, of course you are. I'm Inuzuka Yoko, maybe. And how do you speak English? Like, the fuck dude.”
“I dunno,” the kid—Jun—says, getting up and dusting themself off, which is kind of unnecessary. There isn’t any dirt on the floor. “Maybe it’s ‘cause some drunk fucking asshole ran me over with his shit fucking goddamn car and I didn’t die! What a miracle!"
I raise an eyebrow. “The fuck, dude. Same.”
“Octavia?”
“Yes.”
“What in the fresh hell is this,” Jun says, making it sound again like not a sentence, coming over to sit down on my bed. “This is weird.”
“Agreed. Why the fuck am I an Inuzuka."
“Not sure, but it fits for you. Somehow. We need to find out where in the timeline we are, also, I want to use chakra, like, yesterday,” Jun says.
“Me fucking too. And you're a Nara! I love the Naras!”
“Yeah . . . so I am. And I know. Wanna make a break for it? I kind of already abandoned Shikamaru, which—wait—of course. I know where we are in the timeline. And you do too, apparently? Or—”
“Dude. Dude. Kiba’s my little cousin. He's like a year younger. We’re older than rookie nine! Hey, d’you know your birthday? How old are you?”
“ . . . Eight. November 22nd. Oh, god. Don’t tell me you’re—”
“—older than you! April 5th! Fucking nine whole years old! Goddamn!” I grin, practically bouncing in my seat. “Yes! Finally! I'm finally older than someone! And it's you, goddamn!”
“Shit fuck—you know what, I’m not even going to say it. This is weird. My significant other is a little kid. Oh my god. I hate everything. I hate the fact that you are older than me,” Jun says.
“My significant other is a littler kid, how awful is that. Gross, can we time skip like the anime does?” I ask, making a face.
“I don’t . . . think it works like that. I mean, I wish, but like. No. I can’t believe we’re little kids. No romantic stuff for like, years! Shit fucking shitty fucking age. Anyway, our first order of business should be finding Naruto and—oh god the kids are young did the massacre happen recently? Do we need to find Sasuke and force him into therapy? I mean, I love Sasuke, but I don’t think I could handle living with the kid. That sounded mean. Fuck,” Jun says, all in one breath. They look—okay, really, stressed is an understatement.
“Do they even have therapy here? And I wouldn't want to live with him either. He's so . . . Like. Maybe eventually when he's less . . . Annoying.” I frown. “I wouldn't want to live with Naruto or Sakura either. Definitely not Kiba. Shino maybe? Hmm. Anyway, is that Nara blood of yours working already? Get some ideas in that brain, Teddy. I'm shit at ideas, remember?” I say as dramatically as physically possible. Which is not very.
“I wouldn’t say shit at ideas. You actually come up with great ideas! What you’re shit at is carrying them out,” Jun says, smacking my arm playfully. Or, about as playfully as they can get, which means that they smack my arm kind of hard. “Oh,” they say, apparently noticing the bright red mark they’ve left on my arm. “Uh . . . sorry.”
I laugh, more like a cackle because reasons, and shake my head. “Stupid. Doesn't hurt.”
“I’m a Nara! You can’t call me stupid. Also, I was hoping that you know the layout of Konoha better than me because as soon as I step out of the hospital I’m going to be lost as fuck,” Jun says. “Also, break out of the hospital? Now? Please? Let’s pull a Kakashi.”
“Let's pull a Kakashi! Yes! And obviously I know the layout, I'm a better Naruto fan than you are! Kidding. Anyway. Let's steal their stuff and break out!”
“Steal what stuff,” Jun says flatly, looking around the barren room. “The furniture?”
I look around the room and spy a bathroom. “Towels! Soap!”
“Yes,” Jun says, eyes gleaming. “I love toiletries. Anyway, yeah, let’s get out of here please I wanna go meditate and hopefully use chakra. Like, really hopefully. I NEED to use chakra. Right now.”
“Oh same,” I agree. “Let's go steal some shit and learn how to chakra!”
Jun snorts, and hops off the bed, trotting into the bathroom. “I found a bag! I’m currently shoving all the soap I see into it. And also I got another bag for towels. Oh, wait, these towels are tiny, nevermind. Just one bag. And also I forgot what my room number is so we can’t go there and steal stuff, but there might be a free snack bar here we can get some food from. And if it’s not free . . . well, we’re stealing this stuff. Makes no difference to me."
I nod seriously and run into the bathroom to grab towels. “One of us can hold these bags while the other steals the snacks, and then we jump out a window. Apparently, I already know how to tree walk, which means I know how to chakra, mom taught me a few weeks ago because I'm a clan kid and privileges haha, but um. Yeah. Anyway.”
“What floor are we on?” Jun asks, horrified. “I don’t know if I can use chakra yet! Maybe I should try right now.”
Jun plops themself right down onto the floor of the bathroom and closes their eyes.
I shrug and let them do their thing.
[ Nara Jun ]
It’s really weird that I’m a little kid. It’s even weirder that my significant other is a child.
Ugh.
Anyway, I should stop thinking that, because I’m trying to meditate or whatever bullshit those shinobi always did, and I’m trying to call up chakra or whatever but it’s hard because before I died, I was a lowly mortal, and lowly mortals like me and literally everyone else on earth cannot use chakra.
In any case, I try.
I must spend about five minutes—maybe fifteen, maybe twenty, but I think it’s a pretty short while—sitting on the floor, relaxing and relaxing and relaxing until I’m stressed out about relaxing enough that I throw my hands up, frustrated to hell and back.
“I can’t do—oh.”
There’s this weird feeling, like my mind is doing something but different, like my body is doing something but different, and that must be chakra because suddenly some part of me can sense Yoko standing up beside me. It feels weird, like pressure that I can control, maybe like water or something lighter, more malleable and more compressible, flowing around in my body. It feels a little heavy, but a little light at the same time. Almost . . . intangible?
It’s wonderful.
Is this chakra? It must be.
I can’t help but laugh delightedly. I have chakra. It’s like I have super-powers—every time in my old life that I’d ever wished to be something more, that I’d ever wished to have some kind of power or wished to have chakra—it came true.
I’m an honest-to-god academy student learning how to become a ninja.
“Dude, this is so cool,” I say excitedly.
Yoko’s chakra feels nice, but heavy. And there’s some part of it that makes me feel complete, like another half to mine. I know that sounds stupid and mushy and romantic, but fuck you, I am stupid and romantic and mushy. And then I actually look at her and remember she’s an actual child and I grimace.
Yoko raises an eyebrow for the millionth time today. “Is it? My chakra feels like a bruise all over my body. Or a full body muscle strain. It's awful.”
“Can you feel mine?” I ask, curious, because I can definitely feel the intricacies of her chakra, and that means I might be a sensor. “Like, I can feel that your chakra is really heavy, and—earth affinity? I mean, it kind of feels like it, and I think I have a water affinity—and there’s something else to it, like another half of my chakra which is really, really weird but, uh, yeah. But hey, there’s chakra testing paper in this universe. We could go find out for sure.”
I wince a second later, realizing that I’m kind of word vomiting all over the place.
“Kind of. I can tell where you are, but I can't really, like, tell anything about your chakra? It feels really light, though, so it's kinda hard to tell it's you instead of—of like, a tree. Or something. It's kind of . . . I don't know. Anyway! Let's go steal paper!” Yoko shouts, raising a fist.
“We’re tiny people,” I say, nodding my head at the conclusion that I am, in fact, a sensor. “We’re going to get caught if we try to steal chakra paper, which is sold in shinobi stores. And my chakra is like, fucking, all over the place, so any ninja worth their salt would pretty much immediately find me out. But I’m not opposed to trying.”
Two kids wanting to test out their affinities. Completely innocent, yeah?
Yeah.
“Anyway,” I continue, putting in an effort to stop my chakra from leaking all over the place and being rewarded for them when I suddenly can’t sense Yoko beyond a dull sort of prickly feeling, “let’s actually find the exit and then go find Naruto or something? I mean, it’s kind of a no-brainer at this point that we need to look after him. Oh my god, you know what? We should bring our stolen stuff to him.”
“Yes! Let's do that! We'll take care of all the neglected children in this village!”
“What about the other villages?” I ask. “When we grow up we’re going to take care of all the children everywhere. I don’t make the decisions. I just do things.”
“That's so valid.”
“It’s so weird to hear that coming from that body,” I say, and then, “Okay, let’s get out of here for real now, I feel kind of strange being in a bathroom for this long.”
I grab Yoko by the wrist and drag her out of the bathroom, out of the hospital room, and into the hall, following a sign that points to the stairs and marching resolutely down them, forgetting all about that free snack bar. Oh, well. It’s only about five minutes before we exit the hospital and I remember to let go.
“Uh,” I say, “whoops. Sorry about your wrist. And anyway, where do we go now?”
“Stupid. Did you wanna food or steal chakra paper or should we go home or go find Naruto or—what?” Yoko asks.
“I can’t believe you use nouns as verbs. I’m breaking up with you immediately,” I say seriously, and then, “just kidding. But, uh, food. I’m starving.”
Yoko nods, laughing a little. “Bitch. But yeah, I didn't manage to eat the food my mom brought me. So let's food! I think I managed to—I mean, I think there's some money in my pocket.”
“You . . . think. Okay, whatever.”
That’s actually—
I stuff a hand into my pocket and come up with . . . 300 ryo. Not too bad, I guess, but I have no idea what food costs around here. “I, unlike you, know that I have money.”
Yoko scoffs. “I have money. It’s—” she reaches for her breast pocket and pulls out several folded bills. “2000 ryo!”
“You’re practically a sugar daddy, wow,” I deadpan, and then cringe as the words I just said catch up to me. “Please never mention that again. I never said that.” I start walking immediately, not giving Yoko a chance to respond, before I stop and turn around sheepishly. “What . . . direction . . . ”
Yoko laughs, grabs my hand, and leads me away from the hospital. “I picked the money from my mom's purse. Don't tell. I've got stealth skills here, apparently.”
“I’m telling,” I whisper vengefully. “You’re ruined. Nobody will ever trust you again after I blab to whoever the fuck your mom is.” I cross my arms—arm, because Yoko’s holding one of my hands—and smirk at her the best I can with this stupid child face.
“That's okay. A lack of trust won't prevent me from picking pockets, Jun. Like I said. Stealth skills. Passed over from the past, and also apparently little me here tends to snatch random shit all the time. It adds up, y’know?”
“You are such an outlaw. Take us to Ramen Ichiraku!” I say dramatically.
And I actually succeed, unlike Yoko and her family.
Yoko rolls her eyes but leads the way, and after a short walk, during which I somehow remember most of the layout of the village, we arrive at the stand.
“Hello!” Yoko grins, pulling me over toward the seats.
“Hello!” an old man says, and my face breaks into a smile when I see him.
It’s old man Teuchi. One of the only people who was nice to Naruto, one of the only people who never turned him away or overcharged him for things, and I can’t help but feel grateful to him for that.
“Jun!” Teuchi says, after he turns to me. “Nice to see you here again! I heard from your father that you had some troubles. Are you feeling better now? How are you doing? You’re such a good kid, it’s a shame that you had to go through hard times.”
“Yes, Teuchi-san,” I say, and try hard not to think about the fact that he said I’m a good kid, and also that I broke out of the hospital and Yoko is carrying a bag of stolen goods. “One bowl of miso ramen, please,” I say, and the order comes naturally like I’ve said it a thousand times.
“The usual, then,” Teuchi chuckles. So apparently I have ordered it a lot, even though I’ve only eaten ramen a few times in my life before. My old life. I don’t think instant ramen counts, but if it does, then I’ve actually eaten it a lot.
Yoko hums, in a dramatic way like with everything she does, and turns to Teuchi. “I would like tonkotsu ramen with boiled eggs, please! Two bowls! Oh, and narutomaki.”
“Two bowls?” I say. “You monster.”
Yoko sticks her tongue out, like a child or something.
“Coming right up,” Teuchi says, and he disappears into the back of the little stall. “Ayame!” he calls out, and then repeats our order for her to hear.
I smile. “I can’t believe we’re already going on dates. How scandalous. Next thing you know I’m gonna be pregnant with, like, five kids and you’re gonna be working your ass off to support me."
Yoko cringes. “Oh, god, you poor thing. That would be so painful. And oh my god, the headaches I would have by working .”
“Because you’re a total stranger to work, right,” I say, “and you’ve never ever taken care of children. Right.”
“Right, of course.”
We lose ourselves in other small talk, such as, what else are we gonna steal besides chakra paper, and, how fast can we get Naruto out of the shitty apartment he calls home, and, can I actually strangle the Hokage with my bare hands, and, what the fuck kind of shinobi are we gonna be?
“Well,” I say, at one point, “I would feel immensely uncomfortable attending kunoichi classes, so I’m gonna . . . leave that to you. Other than that, I’m not big on any kind of fighting, so I’d probably want to be a kind of hit-and-run assassin.”
I frown, then, because that means I’ll have to kill people, but that won’t come for another few years, so I shake my head and try to get rid of that thought.
“Of course, I'll protect you from poisonous flowers and bad fashion,” Yoko promises.
“Oh, thank god,” I say, putting a hand over my heart. “What would I ever do without you?”
“I really wanna just, hit people? And stab them?” Yoko says, completely changing the topic. “But also fūinjutsu. Fuck.”
“You know, that would be really badass. You would totally be awesome with seals,” I say, realizing that we’ve switched to Japanese and have been speaking it for a while. Cool. The universe is personally making sure that I don’t look like a fool in front of people, which is awesome.
“I wish I could keyboard smash in real life, because you're adorable,” Yoko sighs.
“That feels really weird coming from a tiny child like you, but you know what? I’ll take it. I am adorable,” I say, trying hard not to preen.
Yoko grins. “You haven't even looked in a mirror yet, have you? You're the cutest child ever.”
“That’s what I thought,” I say smugly, and then, “But you’re pretty adorable, too. You kind of remind me of this one kid I saw at an amusement park once. Why do I still remember her? Maybe because she was so phenomenally adorable. I wanted to squish her cheeks.”
“You're a Nara, dumbass. And obviously I'm adorable, did you ever doubt it?”
“You can’t call a Nara a dumbass!” I protest.
“Order up!”
My attention immediately snaps to Teuchi and Ayame—Teuchi’s carrying two bowls, and he sets those down in front of Yoko. Ayame is carrying my bowl, and she sets it down at my place and hands me a pair of chopsticks. “Here you go, sweetheart,” she says, and I feel my face heat up in a pleased flush.
Compliments are awesome. I should get them more.
“Thank you!” Yoko and I chorus.
I break my chopsticks and devour my food. I don’t think even actual vacuums work as fast as this. My bowl is gone in about five minutes, and then my stomach hurts because I ate so fast.
“Ugh,” I groan, pushing my bowl away from me in satisfied disgust, and side-eye Yoko, who is steadily and surely making her way through her first bowl. “I’m such a fool. I hate everything. I hate eating. I’m going back to the hospital and putting myself on an IV drip. Fuck.”
Yoko cackles, which is kind of hilarious. “Food is good! Don't rush through it next time, silly! You gotta appreciate the ramen. Ramen is the food of the gods—that I don't believe in, by the way. Even better when you can't taste it over the taste of cheese.”
“You’re such a Naruto,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” A loud voice says.
Oh, fuck me sideways. That’s Naruto.
I turn around in my seat. Naruto stands there at the end of the stall, hands on his hips. Something makes me want to smile. He’s so cute. He’s so cute.
“Nothing!” I say, and try to not look like an asshole. “You’re just—always obsessing over ramen! It’s a good thing, really,” I add when Yoko kicks me in the shin.
That hurt like a motherfucker, by the way. I glare at Yoko, giving her my best I will destroy your entire world look.
“Ramen’s really fucking good, and I know how amazing it is and they don't, so that's why I'm a Naruto, and being a Naruto is a good thing in my opinion,” Yoko claims before stuffing her mouth full of ramen.
“That it is,” I say wisely, nodding as sagely as I can. I hope I’m being a good Nara right now. Except for the misogyny part. That part is nasty. I want to beat the shit out of that part with a giant club, except that’s actually more of Yoko’s kind of thing.
Naruto looks at me, and then at Yoko. “You’re—not kidding, right? Being me is bad. You can’t be me, or people will treat you bad.”
My heart hurts.
This poor boy, I think.
“CanIhugyou,” I blurt, before I realize what I’ve said. My face turns red. God damnit. I had just stopped blushing.
“Uh,” Naruto says carefully, bright blue eyes looking at me like I’m going to pull some prank on him. I can’t help but feel sad, because it seems like he thinks everyone is out to get him, and that’s just not true. Or, at least, it’s not true anymore. Now that Yoko and I are here, we can actually make sure the boy gets some friends.
“Nevermind,” I say quickly. “You probably wouldn’t want to anyway.”
Naruto looks at me with those big blue puppy eyes. “Were you really gonna hug me?” he asks, and my heart turns to liquid inside of my chest, which sounds gross but is really just another way of saying my heart melts.
God damnit, Nara genes. Stop making me complicate things!
“I do want to,” I admit, and then, “do you?”
Yoko snorts again, and says, “I’m gonna beat the fucking shit outta everyone who hurts you or your feelings, alright? Now get over here and hug Jun! And then you can have my other bowl of ramen!”
Naruto perks up instantly, and then takes a cautious step toward me. I roll my eyes, which is beginning to become a habit, and hold my arms out, smiling at him. It’s hard not to smile, really, when faced with cuteness of this caliber.
Naruto quickly dashes toward me and wraps his arms around me. I’m surprised at how warm he is, and then I remember, right, jinchūriki, he’s probably gonna be pretty warm if all that extra chakra has anything to say about it. In any case, I tighten my arms around him and enjoy the hug.
Because physical contact is great.
It turns a little awkward when we hit ten seconds, and after twenty-five I have to pull myself away because Naruto is standing and I am sitting, and the only proper position for prolonged physical affection is lying down, and also, Yoko is laughing at us and while her laugh is great, I very much resent it.
She is going to call me a big softie.
I am a big softie, but I won’t admit this to her.
She knows I know I’m a big softie and that I won’t admit it.
I know she knows I know I’m—
And on and on, etc.
“Okay, Naruto,” I say, sending Yoko the second death-glare of the day, “go eat your ramen. And order any ramen you want. Yoko is going to pay for it! Unless you exceed a couple thousand ryo, in which case we don’t have that much money.”
“Free ramen!” Naruto cheers, and waves Teuchi over to excitedly point at things on the menu and make his orders.
I smile, resting my head on my hand, and ignore Yoko’s offended huffing.
[ Inuzuka Yoko ]
“Hey, Naruto,” I say, after he’s finished his tenth bowl of ramen. And really, fuck Jun, for spending all the money I’d stolen. “Wanna help us be thieves?”
Naruto chokes on air. “Thieves?! What? Why?”
I smile innocently, which I very much manage to pull off. I am 100% successful in my endeavor. I swear. “Why not? Just chakra paper. And maybe—” Jun stomps on my foot, “—no, no, don't need to steal anything else. Anyway, wanna help?”
“Stealing isn’t good!” Naruto says, and by says I mean shouts.
“Says you. Stealing is fine. Nothing wrong with it. It's nothing compared to the murderers we will one day be,” I tell him in the most dramatic tone I have used literally ever.
Naruto flinches as if struck.
Jun kicks me, hard. “Don’t say that,” they hiss.
I roll my eyes. “I'm kidding, Naruto. But it's literally nothing compared to some missions you'll get one day. You could be told to retrieve the, uh, most important artifact in a really strong village. As in steal. The most important thing. Ever. In comparison, chakra paper is nothing. Especially 'cause we're kids. Also, stealing isn't bad if the people you're stealing from are rich.”
Naruto still looks wary.
I sigh. “You can just keep watch if that's what you want?”
“And,” Jun says, as if to motivate him, “you can find out what your chakra affinity is! Wouldn’t that be cool? That means you know what kind of jutsus to learn!”
Naruto brightens up at that. “Yeah! Let’s do it! I wanna learn lots of cool jutsu, y’know!”
“Okay,” Jun says, and that’s their finality tone, oh no. “Let’s go steal some shit. Oh, wait, fuck, Yoko, pay for the ramen. And then let’s go steal some shit.”