Disclaimer: I do not own anything involcing Jason Bourne, Naruto, or any subsidiaries. Duh.
A Naruto story inspired by the Bourne Identity. NOT a crossover. Just similar situational plot. Roll with it. Review if you want it to continue. Have fun!
IMPORTANT THINGS I'M DOING WITH THIS FIC
Naruto, and everyone else is 18.
Everyone gets a power up. Even Naruto, (who really deserves one).
Konoha, and the whole Naruto Universe exists alongside our own "real world" in secret.
Sorry, but the Kyuubi only gets minimal airtime in this fic. It'll make things too muggy and complicated.
"The object in life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane." Marcus Aurelius, Roman Emperor.The Uzumaki Identity
Chapter 1
Vladimir loved cards. Especially when there was nothing else to do. Sitting on a barrel, around a wet, swollen table with his friends was most enjoyable. The storm may be raging outside, their small fishing ship may be battered with waves and wind, this gale might go on for hours, but he couldn't be happier here and now, sitting with five clubs in his hand. The wager was big; two king packs of cigarettes, half a
roll of dry toilet paper, and a Sport's Illustrated only three months old. Vlad looked left, right, and slapped his hand on the table.
"Ha! Flush!"
Reaching to acquire his much desired toilet paper, the thick hand of the captain reached out and grabbed his wrist. Grinning, the heavyset fishing captain slowly set his hand down. Four Kings.
"Sorry, Vladdy. Tonight's not your night!"
The rest of the crew roared with laughter, as Vlad watched the promise of enjoyable bathroom-ing slip through his fingers. The captain pulled out a cigarette and flicked it at Vlad, hitting him in the forehead.
"On the house."
The laughter of the crew redoubled as Vlad stood up.
"I'm going out for a smoke, deal me in next hand."
Sour, Vlad stomped up to the deck, lighting his pity-smoke and staring out at the raging French seas. Scanning the water, he saw a dim shadow off the starboard side. Leaning out from the cover of the roof to get a better view, Vlad felt the smoke get bombarded with rain pellets, snuffing out the flame, rendering it useless.
"Fuck," he muttered, stalking over to the edge and flicking the cigarette into the sea. The moment he turned to go back, a red flash emanated from the water. Crying out, Vlad stared back. The shadow, just moments ago bathed in a red light, now was dim again, the flash disappearing as quick as it came. He now saw clearly what was in the water. A body.
For perhaps five seconds Vlad stood, dumfounded. The he snapped to his senses, racing downstairs to tell the crew to get the net.
…..
Uhhhh…oh jesus, my back. Fuuuuuck, I'm cold.
Dim images and sensations ran across his wet face. Nothing coming into focus, nothing familiar. He felt rough hands carrying him. They weren't doing a very good job. There was a lot of bobbing and tipping. He felt nausea rise up, and was too weak to fight it. Then the pain in his back spiked as whoever was carrying him set him down. Tilting his head, he vomited out everything, then slipped back into blackness…
…….Three weeks later……
The blond teen winced as tender but calloused hands pulled at the dressing on his back.
"Ahhh…easy Vlad! Those aren't just scrape wounds, you know!"
The fisherman gave a deep laugh. "And I thought you'd be tougher, surviving eight knives stuck in the back. Listen to you, whining like a pussy!"
"Eh, shadap."
With one last tug, the last dressing was removed. Twisting around Naruto stared at his back in the mirror. The scars were still a bit tender, but they'd healed nicely. He mentally smiled a bit.
Having eight knife scars makes for some badass story material.
Reaching out, Naruto took his shirt back, sliding the rough grey fabric back over his rippling body. He may not remember anything about himself or his past, but he still had some impulses, such as to work out like an animal for three hours a day.
Striding back on deck, Naruto paused to breathe more fresh sea air before putting his feet on land. Vlad came up to join him, nudging Naruto's bag with his foot.
"So, you're sure you want to leave us? You have no memories, no plan, no belongings-"
Naruto cut him off. "Hey now, I've got eight lovely sharp souvenirs in that backpack!"
Naruto meant it as a joke, but saw Vlad go a tad pale.
"You almost died out on that sea. Someone meant to kill you. One knife is a message. Five knives is overkill. Eight is to make DAMN sure."
Naruto understood his friend's concern. But concern wasn't enough to stop him.
"There's no chance I'll remember who I am if I stay on this boat. I need to get out there. Looking on land near where you found me is as good a plan as any."
Vlad knew he couldn't stop him. So he tried to help him. Any way he could.
"So…the dream is still the same?"
Naruto averted his eyes. "I'm sure it's a memory. It's too real to not be. A flash of black, a flash of pink, pain in my back, and a scream."
Vlad echoed the scream with a soft whisper. " 'Naruto…' "
Naruto looked back. "That memory, that scream…it was full of anguish and sadness. That memory gave me back my name. I'm sure if I go looking for the girl that screamed my name, I'll remember more."
Vlad gave a weak smile. "My friend. The French coast is kind and hospitable. But Paris…Marseilles…they have gangsters, mafia, danger. Perhaps you were mixed up with them. Perhaps you can't remember, so you can start fresh."
Naruto couldn't deny his words. But they wouldn't change his mind.
"I'm sorry, my friend. But I need to."
The boat touched the dock and Naruto grabbed his pack. Vlad shoved five hundred pounds into his hand.
"That's my share from this trip. Take it. I don't need it, and we go out again in two weeks anyway."
Naruto wanted to say no, take your money back, but he knew he'd need it. So with a few words of thanks and goodbye, Naruto stepped off to boat into a brave new world.
Well, let's see where this goes.
…..Eighteen days later…..
Naruto felt like an idiot. He'd wandered around small port towns, taverns, and shipyards for almost a month, and he was getting nowhere. All he had was a name, (his own) and eight knives. Naruto had gone to weapon shops, bars, even museums, and no one recognized anything remotely familiar about them. The only lead he got was that they were throwing knives, they were rare, and not used anywhere near France.
But that wasn't the real reason he was angry. He'd expected to come up short. He'd emotionally prepared for it. What he wasn't ready for was all of his impulses returning. It all started in a restaurant, sixteen days ago. There were three families sitting near his table. Three different languages at the same
time, really fast. He'd picked up on every word. Later, at the hostel, he tried speaking French. Fluent. German. Fluent. Japanese. REALLY fluent. He'd stared dumbfounded into the mirror.
Huh?
Later, at a bar, he found he could size everyone up. How they would fight, how fast or strong or smart they were, how likely it was they would fight. It just came to him. This happened steadily from then on. Driving, swimming, math, charts and maps, it came to him like clockwork. But no memories. And it was driving him MENTAL.
Then, two days ago, for kicks in a bar, he picked up one of the knives in his bag and started playing with it. He was like a fucking surgeon. Flipping it over his hand, twirling it in a blur between his fingers, changing grips and positions, and throwing it at a dart board in the bar. Perfect bull's-eye. He apologized, paid for the dartboard and left, head buzzing with frustration and questions. Questions he was beginning to thing would never be answered.
He was out of money and out of ideas. Sleeping on a park bench, he felt his emotions rising to a boiling point.
The French cops chose the exactly wrong night and guy to send a message to the homeless of the area. Marching up to Naruto, they prodded him VERY unkindly and began snarling at him. Naruto moaned and sat up, belly aching with hunger he muttered at them.
"Non, aucun officier. Je n'ai pas de papiers."
They weren't listening. Furious, Naruto reverted to English, trying to keep his voice level.
"No, no officer. I don't have any papers."
They jabbed him in the chest with their Billy Clubs and started shouting.
"DE PAPIERS?!"
Naruto lost it.
"I DON'T HAVE ANY FUCKING-"
It happened faster than even Naruto could remember. One of them swung the stick at his head. Naruto caught him at the wrist, and twisting the cop's arm, broke it. Before the other one even knew what was happening, Naruto kicked him in the knee, bringing him down, then kicked him in the temple, knocking him out. He released the other cop's busted arm and chopped him in the neck. He went down like a bag of sand. Standing, Naruto wasn't even breathing hard, and in less than a second, incapacitated two armed cops when he was tired and hungry. Panicking, afraid of himself, Naruto tore off into the night. He got six blocks before he realized he wasn't tired, even at full sprint.
I need answers, and I need them now.
…..
"Monsieur, bougez s'il vous plaît ."
Erm…'sir, please move.' That's it.
Opening his eyes, Naruto saw a little French girl standing over him. Sheilding his eyes, he muttered at her.
"Oui, oui."
Standing and stretching, Naruto walked over to a street-trailer book stand. Desperation started setting in. He knew so much and could do so much, and he still only had a half-conscious memory to his name.
Oi, I need to relax.
Looking in the fiction section for a laugh, he browsed some foreign works. A porno book from Germany caught his eye. He looked through the pages, chuckling. He hadn't smiled in days.
I can't believe this stuff actually get's published.
The toothless shop-keep smiled and spoke in rough English to him.
"Ah. You like, eh? Try this. From…ah, east. Far east. It in other language, but if you can understand, VERY funny!"
Naruto accepted the book with a huge grin.
Jeez, it's the porno that binds us. Hmmm, what a name! Come come paradise. Yeash, you'd think they'd be more original.
And Naruto flipped open the book to page one…