Naruto: Systematic Shinobi Chapter 1: Transmigration 1

A sharp pain pierced his chest, his lungs laboriously drawing in shallow breaths, each exhale a struggle.

Tears streamed, blurring his vision. Though, truth be told, his sight would have been obscured anyway by the acrid black smoke that choked his throat and billowed through the inferno engulfing the building.

Damned terrorists.

It was pathetic, really. He could only lie there, groaning, dazed, awaiting the inevitable end.

He yearned to escape, but the crushing weight of a massive pillar pinning him down rendered any such attempt futile. He was in deep trouble, truly stuck without any means of escape.

Oddly, a strange sense of calm washed over him. He wasn't someone who would be missed anyway. Just a nameless orphan, devoid of family, friends, or anyone who genuinely cared – not even the orphanage matron.

'…This truly sucks,' he thought grimly. His only solace in life had been exercise and anime, unusual companions, perhaps, but one had always fueled the other.

He possessed little else, yet anime had ignited a spark, convincing him that dedication and effort could overcome any lack.

…A shame it all amounted to nothing. All because some dramatic fool had chosen this morning to detonate themselves for reasons unknown.

Perhaps they were bullied. His own life was so desolate that he might perish due to such a cliché ending.

Damn it all, he didn't want to die! As ridiculous as the reason seemed, he hadn't finished watching his favorite anime. Surely, life couldn't be so cruel as to end it all before then?

He hadn't seen if Luffy achieved his dream of becoming Pirate King, or if Natsu found his father, if Ash finally became a champion, or the ultimate conclusion to the epic clash between Naruto and Sasuke.

A fire ignited within his chest, mirroring the raging inferno that threatened to consume him, to burn him alive.

He had never had anything significant in his life, and it—it just wasn't FAIR!

(Do You Wish To Live?)

"…I’ve lost my mind," he stammered, his vision suddenly clearing to reveal a floating, ebony screen inscribed with crimson writing.

For a moment, he simply stared, the surrounding chaos completely forgotten.

It took a beat to shake off the sheer disbelief. Was he hallucinating? Was the smoke finally getting to him? Was he about to lose consciousness?

He strained, attempting to raise his arms, but to no avail. The immense weight of the pillar held him fast against the ground.

Honestly, screw this school.

A wry snort escaped him. "Of course I want to live!" he declared, momentarily succumbing to the strange illusion.

His life was terrible, but it was his.

As soon as the words left his lips, the crimson script on the black screen pulsed, and new words materialized.

(Very Well, Prepare For Transmigration!)

He blinked. "…What?" he managed to utter.

But that was the extent of his response, for in the next instant, the screen expanded rapidly, enveloping him like a consuming cocoon of red and black. A strange fluttering sensation filled his stomach as he felt himself plummeting.

He lacked the time to even register being swallowed by the phenomenon or the disorienting, swirling void of red and black, when suddenly, a lifetime of memories flooded his mind, crashing in, integrating deeply within his very consciousness.

_______________________________________

Daiki Yurei, or rather Yurei Daiki, awoke with a sharp gasp, pushing himself onto his hands and knees, his breath coming in ragged bursts.

He gazed at the damp earth beneath him, his mind a whirlwind of confusion.

"…What?" he swallowed hard, struggling to process the surreal reality.

He lifted a hand from the ground and tentatively traced his throat, feeling only smooth, unbroken skin.

This felt wrong. He distinctly recalled the searing sensation of a kunai slicing through his jugular, his vision darkening as he bled out and met his end.

Damn Iwa ninja, they'd spotted him during a reconnaissance mission just beyond the Fire Country's border. A pair of seasoned Chunin, eager for a cruel sport, had decided to toy with and murder the young Konoha Genin.

Scoundrels.

…Yet, that wasn't the whole truth either. Yes, that event had occurred; his proficiency in Genjutsu was sufficient to discern reality from illusion, and it had certainly been real.

But now, he harbored recollections of something else entirely.

Vivid memories that defied logic. A boy, much like himself, an orphan, a nobody, insignificant, caught in a school explosion, trapped beneath a colossal pillar, awaiting either suffocation by smoke or immolation by flames.

And most astonishingly, beyond merely possessing the memories of another teenager's demise, was the fact that this individual held memories of watching an 'anime' titled Naruto, chronicling the life of Uzumaki Naruto.

…He graduated with an orange-wearing moron named Uzumaki Naruto. The very same blonde buffoon he recalled from the ‘anime’ of his past life.

"Just what in the blazes is going on?" Daiki groaned, his hands gripping his pounding head.

The reality of his world, the village he had pledged his unwavering loyalty to, was a horrifying revelation.

While he couldn’t possibly articulate the events that transpired later in that animated series, he could state with absolute certainty that the depiction of Naruto’s younger years was entirely accurate.

…How utterly absurd!

The Nine-Tails, Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, a Jinchuuriki, Orochimaru, the Akatsuki, the Sage of Six Paths. The sheer, daunting magnitude of what the future held for the world nearly choked him with dread.

…But how is this possible!? It defies all logic. They seemed to originate from entirely separate worlds, perhaps even different dimensions. There was no such concept as chakra in the world from his memories. How could that world possibly penetrate his own so clearly, and even foresee its future?

"Wait!" His eyes flew open as a memory surfaced. "That box, was it not an illusion?"

His mind churned furiously as he attempted to piece things together. "It looked remarkably like a status s-"

As the words left his lips, the air shimmered with an inky black light. Before his very eyes, that familiar interface he had witnessed at the end of another boy’s life materialized, complete with its signature crimson text.

However, it was starkly different from before, when it had posed questions about the desire to live. This was entirely new.

(Name: Daiki Yurei)

(Age: 13)

(Chakra Capacity: 936/936 (Genin))

(Strength: 14/500)

(Endurance: 14/500)

(Durability: 14/500)

(Agility: 14/500)

(Taijutsu: 25/500)

(Ninjutsu: 20/500)

(Genjutsu: 10/500)

(Bukijutsu: 15/500)

Chakra Control: 30/500

(Chakra Affinities:)

(Lightning - (N/A): You have no training with this element.)

It appeared to be cataloging his abilities as a shinobi. His general ninja training and physical attributes were quantified numerically out of five hundred. He even had a numerical value for his chakra, strangely labeled as ‘genin’?

So, according to this, he possessed the same amount of chakra as a typical genin? While it was true that one could estimate the chakra reserves of others, thus theoretically assigning a numerical value, where did these specific numbers originate?

And chakra affinity? His affinity was supposedly lightning. Well, that certainly saved him the trouble and expense of pooling his funds to purchase chakra-conductive paper for testing. Those things were notoriously pricey.

It was peculiar, though. His father hailed from Kirigakure. He had relocated to Konoha to escape the grim living conditions of the Mist Village and subsequently met his mother, a native of Konoha.

Not that he had ever known them; they had tragically perished during the Nine-Tails’ assault on the village, leaving him an orphan. Nevertheless, it seemed more plausible for him to possess a water or fire affinity, rather than lightning.

How on earth was he going to learn lightning-based jutsu in the Land of Fire? Surely, he would have to pay considerable sums for instruction, wouldn’t he?

"Wait, wait, that’s not the crucial point," Daiki huffed, fixing his glare upon the screen. "Is this all your doing?" he demanded, his voice sharp.

The screen remained unchanged, offering no textual response to his inquiries.

He attempted issuing a few random commands, but to no avail; it simply persisted in its static state.

The only interaction it yielded was when he willed it to vanish, causing it to dissipate.

Daiki then slumped onto his backside, gazing up at the vast expanse of the sky with a sigh. "…I suppose I truly can’t complain," he mused aloud.

Not only had he experienced death, but that other individual, his alternate self? He had been on the precipice of demise himself. This ‘system,’ or whatever it was, had, in a peculiar way, preserved them both. They were both deceased, yet here they were, living on as one entity.

And he certainly couldn't deny the profound usefulness of the knowledge he had acquired.

Even the mastery of just two fundamental techniques that Naruto learned early on—Tree Walking and Water Walking—were concepts entirely foreign to him previously.

After all, he was a member of the Genin Corps, a failure who had graduated the academy but ultimately failed to pass the test administered by his assigned Jonin-sensei.

Daiki let out a snort. "Genma, huh?" he hummed. It turned out his potential instructor had been quite the significant figure, serving as a personal guard to the Hokage and receiving instruction in the legendary Flying Thunder God Technique from the Fourth Hokage himself before his untimely demise.

…By sealing the Nine-Tails within his own son, of all people.

To think he had once blindly believed Minato Namikaze had single-handedly slain the Nine-Tails and revered him utterly.

So many deceptions, so many falsehoods.

As one would expect from a shinobi village, he supposed.

With a sigh, Daiki concluded it was best to press onward. He couldn’t linger in this place any longer; who knew if those wretched Iwa shinobi were still lurking in the vicinity?

He could deliberate on how to utilize all this newfound information festering in his mind once he safely returned to Konoha.

Pushing himself up from his seated position, he groaned, "Of course..." Of course, this was how it happened. His eyes rolled as he realized.

He found himself standing in the middle of a ditch. Those scoundrels had literally thrown his body into a ditch after ganging up on him and murdering him.

However, at the very least, he could still see the town where he had delivered the scroll for his mission. This meant he could find his way back.

He checked the equipment pouch fastened around his hip and let out a sigh of relief upon finding his gear untouched.

At least they hadn't looted his body.

_______________________________________

Fortunately, Daiki's mission did not take him too far from the Land of Fire's borders, which were patrolled by Konoha Shinobi. Therefore, he didn't need to worry much about enemy ninja.

In fact, any enemy ninja who managed to bypass the border patrol would undoubtedly be far beyond his current capabilities to handle.

He arrived back in his home village by nightfall, utterly exhausted and drenched in sweat, but profoundly relieved.

While he wasn't truly afraid of facing death, having already experienced it once, he couldn't exactly claim he wasn't tense and jumpy during the entire journey back.

A significant weight was completely lifted from his shoulders as he passed through the imposing gates of Konoha and entered the safety of his home.

He made a direct path to the mission desk, submitted his mission results immediately, and happily accepted the fifty-four thousand ryo he was awarded for his efforts.

As unfortunate as it was to be considered a career Genin, part of the academy's jokingly named 'drop out corps,' the fact that he lacked a sensei and a team provided at least one, perhaps even two, significant benefits.

He wasn't perpetually stuck with D-rank missions after completing ten of them. He could choose to undertake missions whenever he pleased without needing his sensei's approval, and he could pursue them independently, thus keeping the entire reward for himself.

After tucking the reward from his very first C-rank mission into his pocket, Daiki made his way back to the solitary one-bedroom apartment that had been allocated to him upon his entry into the shinobi academy.

Once he was home, with the door securely locked behind him, Daiki collapsed onto his worn-out couch and groaned in relief, "Never thought I'd be glad to see this shithole." He let out a snort.

However, he couldn't relax for long before his thoughts inevitably drifted back to the colossal bunny Bijuu that occupied the room.

The future and his memories of it.

As much as he wished he could believe it was wrong, he knew he was never that fortunate. And, he couldn't simply go around telling someone about this. One wrong suspicion could lead to him facing torture and interrogation, being brutally tortured, and subsequently having his mind violated by a Yamanaka.

That definitely did not sound like an enjoyable experience.

Truly, the only course of action was to prepare himself and ensure his own survival.

To be entirely honest, he didn't particularly care all that much for Konoha anyway; it wasn't as if he was treated exceptionally well here. In fact, he was viewed as a failure simply for being part of the Genin Corps.

Seriously, he couldn't overstate how utterly absurd it was to be branded a failure because his supposed sensei assigned an unreasonably difficult task, which they predictably failed. He had demanded they land a hit on him – a hit on a truly seasoned Jonin.

Utterly ridiculous.

Daiki acknowledged that he wasn't exactly the pinnacle of shinobi talent; he was mediocre in his class. The truly elite had been Sasuke. Yet, lazy individuals like Nara Shikamaru, who never exerted any significant effort, passed, and even Haruno Sakura, whose physical capabilities were abysmal, also passed.

He would even argue it was unfair that Naruto received a pass over him. However, while superior to Naruto on paper, he had lost numerous encounters to the blonde-haired boy during their academy days because that darn kid simply refused to stay down and outlasted him through sheer tenacity.

Daiki sighed, letting his head loll back against the couch and gazing up at the ceiling, "...Status..." he muttered on a whim, summoning the status window. He had figured out how to call and dismiss it on his journey back.

He blinked, staring at the stats reflected back at him.

(Name: Daiki Yurei)

(Age: 13)

(Chakra Capacity: 956/956 (Genin))

(Strength: 14/500)

(Endurance: 14.2/500)

(Durability: 14/500)

(Agility: 14/500)

(Taijutsu: 25/500)

(Ninjutsu: 20/500)

(Genjutsu: 10/500)

(Bukijutsu: 15/500)

Chakra Control: 30/500

(Chakra Affinities:)

(Lightning - (N/A): You have no training with this element.)

His chakra capacity had increased by twenty points? And his endurance by a mere zero point two.

It wasn't exactly a monumental, earth-shattering change, but it was undeniably fascinating to witness his abilities improving numerically right before his eyes.

A sense of profound satisfaction washed over him.It was peculiar, really. His listed endurance of fourteen seemed astonishingly low, yet it represented the fruits of years—since he was a mere four-year-old academy student—of dedicated physical training. Certainly, an increase of zero point two might not seem monumental, but it constituted a seventieth of his entire endurance score, accumulated over eight arduous years. Could this system enhance his growth rate? Or was this merely a consequence of his current state, being comprised of two distinct individuals? Could potential and talent truly be quantified in this manner? "Well, no point looking a gift horse in the mouth," he pondered, resolving to uncover the truth through future training regardless. If this was indeed the case, an opportunity presented itself. He had been a Genin for two months; the Chunin Exams, he knew, were scheduled to take place in Konoha in another four months. "I possess sufficient funds for a considerable duration now, I suppose," Daiki mused, allowing him to dedicate himself entirely to training, particularly after absorbing all the informational briefings required of him during his two months as part of the Genin Corps.