Chapter Text
When I first gain consciousness to nothing but bodily pain, limbs way too short hurting way too much, I do what every other reasonable person would do and assume that I’ve somehow travelled back in time. It’s middle school, sports class, and I’ve passed out because my PE teacher doesn’t believe in asthma. Fuck you, Ruth, I hope you choke on a dick.
But then, my eyes open, meeting a gray sky first, and pink hair second, and remembering my middle school’s strict rules on hair dye, I realise that I’m wrong. (Not taking that back, though, Ruth, you really can choke, see if I care). A pink haired girl sobs on my aching body, and I shouldn’t accept what’s going on so fast, really. But I’ve always had the common sense of a seven-year-old on crack, I guess, because I do. That’s what happens when one spends all of their time in middle school watching anime, you end up accepting shit way too quick, recognising sceneries way too fast.
Fuck this shit. There is senbon piercing my skin and all that, it hurts so much, what the hell?
“F-ff…,” I try to mutter, and the girl stops sobbing, emerald eyes meeting mine. She squeezes my hand, so hopeful, eyes all watery and all that.
“Sasuke-kun!”
I really don’t appreciate this new reality. I really wish she wouldn’t confirm my suspicions.
“Fr…,” I try again, words dying in my throat, tasting like iron.
“Y-yes?” she encourages me, and I should probably say something reassuring. Anything other than accepting how much senbon hurts.
“Free acupuncture,” I manage finally, “neat, I’ve…always wanted to try it…”
Apparently, that’s not what you say to a twelve-year-old who’s just seen her friend die before her eyes, because she ends up sobbing once again. Welp, I’ve never quite been good at this whole reassurance thing.
I stay on the ground, senbon stuck in my skin and all that, for a little while after that. Contemplating life, which was funny because I didn’t remember much about my actual life, whoever I was before opening my eyes in a clearing as a ninja, except for middle school PE, and some basic anime knowledge. Of course, that’s the kind of memory I would keep as I woke up in Naruto. Couldn’t have been something useful, that’d be way too convenient.
“Sasuke,” a voice calls me, and I have to remember that that’s my name now. “Can you get up, buddy?”
I mean, probably. Maybe? I grunt, try to get back on my two feet, but fall on my two butt cheeks instead. No is the answer, then.
Kakashi helps me up, his single visible eye scanning me for injuries, which, like, does he really need to do that to see I’m closer to a porcupine than a twelve-year-old boy right now?
“Sasuke!” Naruto all but screams, and I flinch. I forgot how loud these kids can be. “I’m so happy you’re fine, you asshole!”
He is crying as he calls me an asshole, which should seem much more tragic to me, really. But then also, everything is so ridiculous right now. What would Sasuke do?
“Hmphg,” is my attempt at reproducing the most nonchalant answer I can think of, which sounds less like a grunt and more like a hurt deer’s attempt at sounding menacing. That’s my new reality. A hurt deer.
Honestly, I wish I could tell what happens next, but my head hurts like a bitch, and my body is still covered in pins. As I pass out in Kakashi’s arms, sturdy arms catching me with much-needed softness, my last thought is that really, I hope Haku sanitized these shits before throwing them at people.
Next time I open my eyes, I’m laying down on a soft futon, precisely free of any offending pieces of metal sticking out of my muscles and skin. Life is good, guys, you should believe it. But then again, I blink a few times, observe my horizons, and realise that whatever my old life was, this isn’t it. I didn’t make an extremely lucid dream where I woke up as Sasuke Uchiha. Nope. This is reality.
I pinch myself, hard, with my nails, and it hurts like a bitch. Yeah, no, not a dream.
Fucking hell, I’ve got Isekai’ed. As Sasuke Uchiha, nonetheless, because my life was always supposed to be all pain and suffering. I couldn’t have been a slice of life protagonist like evertbody else, no, I had to be Konoha’s most traumatised orphan, who had the kind of backstory that would win him The Voice. With my luck, The Voice Konoha probably didn’t exist either, like I never got to win in life, did I?
What was my life supposed to be like, anyways ? I’m way too lucid about Isekai and shit for someone who doesn’t remember anything. I mean, sure, I sort of have a grasp of what my old world was like. Middle school PE, high school, Tiktok trends. I could probably hit the Renegade right now.
As for the rest, though? My name, my family, my friends? I have some grasp of my family, I remember the jokes my mom used to tell me, my dad picking me up from school when I called-in sick and buying me ice cream in my mom’s back. I think of family game nights, I remember fighting over the last slice of pizza and biting my sister when she reached for it first. I remember so vividly, but I can’t put names or faces. I remember kind eyes when I think of my mom, stern ones when I think of my dad, but then they bleed into Mikoto and Fugaku, as though my memories are mixing with those of the boy I’m impersonating.
It’s gross, and I want to cry, but I realise quickly enough that I need to postpone my feelings right now.
Ah, another interesting thing I remember : the entirety of the plot of Naruto. I mean, about as much as one could remember an anime they’ve seen at the tender age of thirteen, but like, still. Like, ninja shit. Senbon, and kunai, and Itachi killing all my family out of love for me. Weird snake dude, and friendship, and long, long speeches coming from Naruto. Revenge. A lot more revenge than I think I can handle. I used to call myself a hater, but really, I was a poser compared to Actual Sasuke.
“Sasuke-kun?” Sakura is right next to me, sitting down, observing me with those inquisitive eyes of hers.
‘Sup, I want to say, but I think I've traumatised her enough like this. It's annoying, really, I know the show well enough in terms of content, but how do I even reenact every single scene? I have terrible memory, case on point; I can't even remember my own name.
Maybe I'm thinking too hard. Maybe I should hit her with a “sup” and hope she doesn't believe I've lost my mind upon pseudo-dying to discount acupuncture.
“Sakura,” I acknowledge back, because despite everything, I think I can play off the angsty preteen part pretty well. I might not remember my name, but I remember having an attitude at that age. I can make it work.
Well, that would have worked if my voice hadn't cracked halfway through her name. I forgot the voice cracking phase I went through. Ugh. Even Uchiha Sasuke catches Ls.
“How are you feeling?” She asks, scanning me over. “Do you need Kakashi-sensei?”
Right now the last thing I need is human interactions, I think, because I have no idea how to handle all that right now.
“I'll go to the bathroom,” I announce, because at least there I'll catch a break. That, and I also need to go pee, I think it might be the acupuncture. Haku could have had such a great career, in my old world. He would have been TikTok famous for his magical needles and what not, people would call him a scammer but then he’d prove them wrong and earn that blue checkmark. Someone would do a video essay about him. What a waste to be stuck in the shinobi world instead.
The good thing about being used as a pin cushion a few hours prior is that I can walk as slowly as possible without awakening any suspicion. Sakura probably thinks I’m too hurt to walk normally, when I’m just out there searching for the bathroom. I can’t just ask, I think I’d have been sleeping in that house for a few days by now, in canon, and I can't really out myself as non-Sasuke. Time to put those theater classes I took in use.
I find it quickly enough and slip inside as quick as possible. The moment the door closes behind me, I’m on the floor, breathing heavy. Reality finally hits me like a punch in the guts, and I fear I don’t have great pain tolerance.
I’m Sasuke Uchiha. Uchiha Sasuke. I’m the guy who couldn’t catch a break for five minutes in canon, from getting bitten by Orochimaru’s weird ass so he could wear my skin, to being re-traumatised by Itachi’s tsukuyomi. Fuck this shit, why do I have to suffer that much? I wish I were Kiba, I’d just let Naruto and Sasuke do whatever fuckery they want to do and hope for the best. I would have even gotten a dog out of the deal. Instead I got generational trauma. That’s why I don’t gamble.
What the fuck am I supposed to do, now? Should I stick to canon? Should I change things? Do I even remember canon well enough for either of these two options?
Maybe I should try to fix things. Like, a good chunk of Sasuke’s problems came from isolation, right? Maybe I could fix that. Well, actually a good chunk of his problems was caused by village elders who knew nothing about diplomacy and because one of them wanted our shiny eyeballs, but I can’t really do anything about that at this point. The isolation, though, I could work on. And that would singlehandedly avoid Sakura and Naruto so much trauma, because of course these two have decided to let the fate of their sanity under the hands of the least emotionally adjusted person they came across.
But then—well, I would take away their character development, right? Would Naruto become strong enough to fight against the Akatsuki (and the alien chick? there was an alien in the end of the show, right? I’m not going crazy?) without me going rogue? And Sakura—it wouldn’t be really feminist of me to stay and prevent her from becoming the taijutsu freak she became.
The problem is that, well, the price to pay is going to Orochimaru. And lowkey, the guy gives me the creeps. His whole tongue thing is just too much to handle, seriously, I don’t want to approach that with a ten-foot pole. I’m not sure how many ‘I want to wear your skin, Sasuke-kun’s I can handle.
This is too much, my head is about to explode, too many questions flooding all at once. A knock on the door saves me from that, and I have to get my breathing back in order.
“Sasuke, everything alright in there?”
Yeah, sure, sensei, don’t mind me, I’m just having an existential crisis. The usual, really, don’t worry.
“If you don’t answer,” Kakashi’s voice is much less amused, much more worried now, “I’ll have to assume you’ve passed out and break the door.”
Fuck.
“Wouldn’t really be nice for Tazuna,” I say, and somehow I sound like I’m about to cry my heart out, which is far from the truth thank you very much.
“Hmm, don’t worry, we’d help rebuilt it.”
No I wouldn’t.
“If I were you, I’d get out soon. Naruto might not leave enough dinner for you.”
Okay, yeah, I want to be a little more angsty and pretend I’m not hungry because of this whole internal ordeal, but that’d be a lie. I’m ravenous. Again, probably the acupuncture. Damn, Haku was good.
Slowly, I make my way out of the bathroom, where my teacher is still waiting for me. He smiles at me with his single visible eye, his hand on my shoulder as he guides me towards the dinner table. I should probably act up, but honestly, any act of kindness is welcome right now.
As I sit down right in between Kakashi and Sakura, I can feel their lingering gazes on me. And don’t get me wrong, I’m an attention whore and all that, but right now I don’t know how to deal with it. Existential crisis and all, remember? And I get it, I sorta kinda died before their eyes, it cannot possibly be all shits and giggles for them either. But come on. Naruto is looking at me like I might disappear any given moment— which, true, wasn’t too off brand for the real Sasuke, I’ll give it to him. But. Still.
“You guys are eating or what?” I grunt, reaching towards my bowl of ramen.
The probably cooked it to thank Naruto. On the side, I see some onigiri, canon Sasuke’s favourite food. Unfortunately, our taste buds haven’t fused, and even though I appreciate rice balls just enough, my personnal favourite food is a triple cheeseburger, with pickles and a side of fries. Well, Isekai’ed loosers can’t be choosers, or however the expression goes.
The ramen is good, I’ll give them that. It would probably taste better if I wasn’t observed by about every person on the table. They aren’t even trying to hide it, which, like, ugh?? I should probably politely ask them to stop doing this. Real Sasuke is socially awkward, right? It wouldn’t be too out of character.
How should I say this?
“If you guys don’t stop looking at me, I’ll kill myself with my chopsticks.”
Nailed it.
Sakura makes a choking sound, and Tazuna doesn’t look very impressed. Kakashi hides it well, but I’ve probably awakened some long-lost trauma about Uchiha’s dying before his eyes right now. I’m so good at this Sasuke shit.
“C’mon asshole, we’re worried about you!” Somehow, even in his worry, Naruto is loud. If he keeps it up, I’ll join Orochimaru just to get away from him. He might as well wear my skin as a treat.
“Naruto, I’m alive, aren’t I?”
Sure, I jumped before him and probably gave him enough nightmares for the next few weeks, so maybe I’m not fair with him. But in my defence, this is all pretty overwhelming right now. He doesn’t know it, but I’m internally debating whether giving my bodily autonomy for his character development is worth it, so he better be thankful. I’ve been awake for less than two hours in this new world, and I’m already loading up my generalised anxiety disorder, can you believe it?
Naruto looks like he is about to jump over the table and show me his affection through action (he looks like he is about to choke me, really hard), but Kakashi is the man of the situation and he stops the jumpy blonde with a swift motion of his hand. With his other hand, he ruffles my hair, and I don’t even have to pretend, my face twists on his own. Oh, the freedom of preteen insolence, I’ve missed you so much.
“Naruto, Sasuke, we’ve all had a long day. How about we eat the food Tsunami so nicely prepared for us, and then we go to sleep, huh?”
“Team dinner,” Sakura offers weakly, a sheepish smile on her face.
Yeah. My very deep and important internal crisis can wait. Let’s go for team dinner, right now.