A grown man shuffled through the bustling streets of a crowded city, hands stuffed into the pockets of his cheap hoodie. The endless noise of engines, honking horns, and chattering pedestrians filled the air as people rushed by, bumping into him without a second glance. A few offered quick, apologetic nods before continuing on with their lives.
Of course, he wasn't much different.
Except for one tiny problem.
"HOW THE HELL AM I GONNA AFFORD FOOD!!!" he suddenly shouted into the void.
For a moment, the street seemed to freeze. Heads turned, people paused mid-step, eyeing him with that all-too-familiar expression — 'what the hell's wrong with this guy?' — before quickly deciding he wasn't worth the trouble and moving along.
His stomach let out a long, painful growl, practically answering his own question. He hadn't eaten in hours — no, days — and now the hunger was hitting him like a fist to the gut.
He was flat-out broke.
His parents had kicked him out of their tiny, run-down apartment again. Why? Laziness? Unproductive behavior? Wasting his life playing video games, binge-watching anime, eating junk food, and sleeping for hours on end?
Yes.
Exactly that.
"Parents just don't get it," he muttered bitterly, glaring across the street at a brightly lit ramen shop as the savory smell of broth and noodles wafted into the air.
'Why do they always kick me out? Don't they know that all people my age just want to chill, eat, and enjoy life? It's not like I'm out causing trouble.'
Still, deep down, he knew the routine.
They kicked him out.
Tomorrow, they'd let him crawl back in.
That's how it always went.
At least… that's how it used to go.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled bill. "$10…" he muttered, his voice cracking with despair. "This won't even buy me half a bowl of ramen!"
His stomach growled louder, almost mocking him.
Desperation clouded his judgment. Without thinking, he stepped off the curb, eyes locked on the ramen shop like it was salvation itself. The busy two-way road before him was packed with cars zooming by in both directions. But he didn't look. Didn't care.
The blaring horn was the only warning.
WHAM.
One moment he was walking.
The next, he was airborne.
Time slowed. He could feel the wind rushing past him as his body flew through the air. The impact with the concrete felt like falling onto jagged glass. His bones shattered on contact, pain erupting through every fiber of his being.
'Wh-What…? What's going on?' he thought, his mind struggling to process the reality. He hadn't even realized what hit him. A truck? A car? It didn't matter anymore.
The world around him faded into black. His vision tunneled. The noise of the city dulled into an eerie silence.
Death.
Or at least… that's what he thought.
When light returned to him, it was no longer from street lamps or flickering neon signs. Instead, a soft glow of morning sun warmed his face.
He blinked. Everything around him was giant, towering, unfamiliar.
Tiny hands.
Tiny arms.
A woman leaned over him, speaking in soft tones to another caretaker nearby. It was then he understood.
He was no longer in his world.
He was in a crib.
He was… a baby?
Saito Kurogane had been reborn — and judging by the symbols on the walls, the names whispered around him, and the uniforms of the people who occasionally visited the orphanage…
There was ninja, or shinobi and Saito was pretty certain.
Is this the Naruto world!
A grin slowly formed on his tiny lips, completely at odds with his infant body.
"Well… shit."