Gaining Knighthood
He wakes up inside a dream. It's the only explanation he has for suddenly turning into a small child from a popular manga.
Red marks stretch over puffed-up cheeks as he makes a face in the mirror. Tiny beads for eyes stare back at him, and he reaches up to poke at his now spiky hair.
The only thing he remembers from last night was reading a Naruto manga and drinking too much cheap beer. Now, he's three feet tall and forced to use a stool to reach the bathroom sink.
(There's no bathtub, just a toilet and sink. He followed his nose after waking up in someone's bedroom, and boy does it stink; someone should really think about cleaning it.)
Leaning closer to the mirror for a better angle, he loses his balance and slips. His back hits the floor while his legs flail, sending the stool flying into the wall behind him.
"STOP PLAYING AROUND UP THERE!" Says the demonic voice from the floor below him.
He stares up at the ceiling and realizes he's in far too much pain for this to simply be a dream. Which means he'll need to see the person that's been screaming at him since he woke up.
"Troublesome," he decides.
The owner of that demonic voice waits for him down the stairs. The moment he steps into the kitchen a fierce-looking woman looms over him, face twisting into displeasure. A spike of fear slides through him.
"About damn time, brat!" The woman bares her teeth at him. "You already missed breakfast, you runt! After what you did last night, don't expect me to feed you until lunch."
He wasn't the only one to have a bad night then, good to know. He hunches his shoulders instinctively.
"You're going to be helping your sister out at the clinic today to make it up to her, and if you cause her any problems I will beat you until you can't stand back up. Are. We. Clear?" The demon lady snarls at him.
"Yes, ma'am," he squeaks.
"Ma, not ma'am. I ain't no lady, and mothers are far more frightening than ladies," his demon of a mother grins savagely.
Life moves too fast for him to stop and think. He doesn't just gain a new mother: he has an older sister and so many cousins, uncles, and aunts that it's impossible to count.
No one suspects anything wrong with him even though he's clueless when it comes to nearly everything. It doesn't speak well of the original owner of the body, but, well, he is currently a young child.
He abandons his old life without much hesitation. He is now Inuzuka Kiba, three years old and wildly curious about the world around him.
He assumes the children in this new world develop faster due to chakra. His body has already learned to read simple words, and no one bats an eye when he learns how to throw better punches after a cousin steals his snacks one time too many.
(It's not hard to settle into his new life. He feels oddly comfortable in this body even with the enhanced sense of smell. Now if only he could stop finding simple speech weird; it's giving him a headache to know he's not speaking English.)
Eventually, he feels brave enough to see the world past the grassy plains of the compound. Don't get him wrong, the Inuzuka lands are amazing—dogs everywhere!—but a part of him remembers an entire village waiting beyond the fence.
"Hey, Ma," he asks one day with his best pleading face, "can I go explore in the village?"
Kuromaru, Ma's ninken, huffs from behind him, and he ignores the intimidating dog to turn up the charm by widening his eyes. The unimpressed stare from his mother tells him to try a different tactic.
"I'll leave my sister alone for a week," he says with a grave emphasis.
"You won't last two days," Ma snorts.
He manages to win his mother over, and Ma lets him walk around Konoha under the protective glances of clan members weaving in and out of village streets and rooftops. Maybe once he gets his canine partner the vigilant watch will fade away, but it doesn't bother him.
If anything, it's comforting to know that he has relatives looking out for him, ready to take him home. Still, the casual attitude of giving young children free range to wander strikes him as strange. Different place, different values, he supposes.
Unfortunately, it turns out he's not ready to venture out into the village. Everything from the odor of sweat to spices assaults his nose all at once. It's incredibly overwhelming. He's about to throw in the towel when he smells it.
A whiff stops him in his tracks as he's walking past a busy side street. His mouth begins watering. Doughnuts, his mind whispers to him, doughnuts. His whole body becomes consumed with the delicious scent of fried bread and sugar.
Ma's given him enough money for a snack, so he finds no reason against turning around to pursue the appetizing smell. He follows the scent to a small stand and finds the counter to be above his head.
Not for the first time, he curses his own height. Doughnuts, his mind whispers again. Narrowing his eyes, he backs up and takes a running leap. His fingers latch onto the counter, and he heaves himself up until his stomach hits the counter top.
"How much?" He wheezes.
"Kid," the shocked stall owner stutters out, "all you had to do was say something! I would have leaned over!"
"How much?" He asks again, choosing to ignore the now useless advice.
"Thirty-seven ryo for two," the stall owner eventually says.
He holds onto the counter with one hand and digs around in his pockets with the other. He places the money onto the counter and almost slides off while attempting to give the correct amount.
"Enjoy your sata andagi," the stall owner says, sliding the paper-wrapped food towards him.
Pleased, he grabs the bundle and tumbles to the ground. He lands harshly on his behind, but he's experienced so much intense rough housing over the past month that the pain barely registers.
Exploring while eating is simple enough and only a moron would cause an accident while unfolding paper. Naturally, while trying to stuff one of the sweets into his mouth, he stops looking at where he's going.
"Hey!"
He rubs his forehead while clutching the remainder of the snack to his chest. A scowling girl glares at him from beneath pink bangs, rubbing her own forehead with teary, green eyes. He swallows the rest of the bread in his mouth, mourning his peaceful snack time.
"Watch where you're going—" The girl suddenly stops, going pale.
Rude, he's not that scary. He tries not to frown, choosing to glance down at his remaining treat. Let it not be said the Inuzuka don't know benevolence.
"Sorry about that," he holds out his remaining piece generously, "doughnut?"
"Doughnut?" The girl repeats dumbly.
"Oi, it's not like I know what the Japanese call it," he mutters.
More like he wasn't paying attention to what the stall owner called it. Well, he'll get used to the new terms soon enough. Immersion is the best learning method after all.
"Japanese?" The girl once again repeats.
"Whatever you call this language," he shrugs without much care.
It's a fact that kids make up words all the time; his five year old cousin still calls fancy hairpins "bogomi." The worst reaction he'll ever get is a condescending attitude.
He's about to rescind his offer of the, quite frankly, amazing doughnut and go about his day when he's grabbed by the shoulders and shaken.
"You—other life—remember?" The girl shrieks in his ear.
He shoves the sweet into her mouth out of reflex. It takes a full second before everything sinks in, and he's pounding a choking Haruno Sakura on the back.
Needless to say, it's a bit of a shock to suddenly run into someone else that used to be, well, someone else.
("How?" Sakura hisses. "Why did this happen to us?"
He can't answer that, and Sakura's face drops at his non-reply. The girl flits between ecstatic to have found someone else with memories of a bygone world and ready to burst into tears.
Later, she'll tell him of the horrible time she had upon waking up to a room colored pink, of hospitals and tears. Of the new love she found in her overprotective parents.)
They manage to arrange a meet up of sorts before he's rushed home by a family member that assumes he's bullying her. The next time they see each other, they're able to truly talk, and it goes well even if it does leave Sakura silent for a few days.
Of course, both of their families easily find out they're meeting up. Sakura's parents are concerned about her choice in friends, and his mother wants to make sure he's not actually bullying Sakura.
This leads to a rather public parent approved playdate. They're left staring at each other wordlessly.
"How about we play a game?" He suggests.
"What are we, kids?" Sakura scoffs.
"Yes," he deadpans.
Sakura goes quiet, and he looks around the playground. Calling it a playground is rather charitable; there's nothing to play with besides a few balancing bars. He'd go so far as to say this is nothing more than a dumping ground for mothers to leave their children.
Is it any wonder that most of the kids here group up and play pretend?
"Want to go play ninja?" He asks, eyeing one of the smaller groups of children.
The boy with the brown hair–clearly the leader–smells like fried food and well laundered clothes. No obvious negative scent, no mean remarks to that kid that just fell down, probably a good choice to approach–
"Absolutely not," Sakura snarls, face twisting into something truly dark.
He takes a step back, automatically hunching his shoulders. He doesn't relax until Sakura's face smooths out, and she loosens her tiny fists. She looks a step away from crying, and he feels like he's been stabbed.
Which is horrible considering he hasn't even done anything.
"Sorry," Sakura says dully, "but pick something else. Anything else."
He frowns and attempts to think of something less triggering. Clearly his new friend is a bomb disguised as a girl. He'll have to be careful not to set her off.
Well, if ninja elicits a spark, what is the opposite of ninja? Samurai? He taps his foot against the ground in thought. No, that's still too close to ninja. How about–
"Let's play knights," he suggests.
"Knights?" Sakura blinks at him with wide eyes.
"Yeah, like Knights of the Round Table," he nods even as Sakura continues to mouth the word "knights" with a blank expression.
"I'll be King Arth–Arth," he can't quite make the "th" sound and compromises, "Arturus, and you'll be Myrddin."
Knights are as far away from ninja as possible. It's a good choice for a game, and he can't quite stop himself from his pleased wriggle. He decides that, hey, he's only three. Why not wriggle?
Sakura doesn't say anything. She only stares at him with those big eyes and suddenly his good idea seems incredibly lame. He scratches his cheek nervously.
"Well, what do you want to play then?" He snaps out defensively.
"I like it. I want to play knights," Sakura suddenly smiles, surprising him, "but you can't be King Arturus."
"What? Why not?" He asks, miffed.
"Because you're not King-like enough," Sakura says with a haughty sniff. "Besides I've got a better idea. I know who you should be!"
"Oh, yeah?" He challenges. "Who?"
"Gawain," Sakura says, eyes bright.
He shrugs his shoulders and goes with it. Gawain, one of the greatest Knights of the Round Table, is a pretty cool guy to be. Sakura and he go look for sticks, ones suitable enough for a sword and a staff, and begin making up a story about searching for the Holy Grail.
"Fear not, Sir Gawain, for I am here with you! With your swordsmanship and my chakra, there is no obstacle we cannot overcome!" Myrddin cries, waving her leafy staff.
"Indeed," he nods. "I only fear that the one responsible for our missing comrades will show herself soon, that wretched Morgana."
By the end of the day, they've turned the Holy Grail into the "Sage's Sake Cup" and talked some of the other kids into pretending to be Morgana's evil ninja, sent to hinder their quest.
"Oh, Sakura, what happened to your hair?" Sakura's mother laments, attempting to smooth down the tangled mess her daughter's hair has become.
Sakura merely gives her mother a huge grin, spinning her pretend staff with a flourish. He taps the fake sword against his shoulder and considers today's mission a success.
Myrddin and Gawain may not have found the Sage's Sake Cup, but he certainly found something far more valuable: a hilariously creative, fun friend.
He follows them out of the playground despite Mrs. Haruno's strained smile. Sakura and he plan their next meet up before parting ways. They both take home their sticks and a promise to continue where they left off.
(Sakura never tells him that Gawain, champion of women and the poor, is her favorite knight of all time)
To those who read the Outtakes of the Together to the Future series this will look familiar. I'm extending the mini-series a bit and letting it stand as its own story. To any new readers, I hope you enjoy reading!