Prologue

Disclaimer, I do not own either Naruto, or RWBY

Warning: May contain OCs, OOCness, AU and other applicable nonsense

Note: This has been plaguing my mind for a while now, and the concept is something that I have done already in my other story, Pandora's Box, so I thought after not making any chapters in a while, why not? Was done mostly because I was bored… yeah…

On with the story

Have you ever felt something strange with life?

As if all the worlds and the endless variable in life was naught but another cleverly fabricated story, written by another writer and designated for a different protagonist.

To one Naruto Uzumaki, this was, more often than not the case.

Granted he may or may not have been as eloquent as to describe his woes as in the matter written, it is doubtful that what he felt was any different. You see, it was always something that has irked him ever since he was capable of independent thought and recognition of self.

He has always felt as certain sense of unease with the world around him. Of course being born and raised in a ninja village made matters not much better, it only made his paranoia and discomfort that much worse. Especially one that is filled with people with their hateful stares and whispers

But he wouldn't be where he was now if he always thought like that.

He raised himself from the scared and lonely child, into the orange wearing, ninja that took names and kicked ass like it was no one's business. And it was thanks to his precious people that he can do the things he can do.

Old man Hokage, Iruka, Kakashi, Sakura, Sasuke.

He could go on and on with that list. He had so many people by his side, helping him become who the person he was today. Granted Sasuke, the bastard, wasn't there physically, he existed as a motivation to never give up, to always keep pushing no matter what.

When he fought in the fourth shinobi war, he changed things forever. Him and Sasuke.

There was no power on earth that could match them. Much like Madara and Hashirama in their prime, they were leagues ahead the normal populace. And in realisation of this came very many consequences. Peace was a negotiable thing, things must come and go, and power must be equalised.

This was why the two greatest powers to currently exist were sealed away by their respective owners. Never to be used again, that is unless the peace treaty were to be deemed null.

And it was in that time of peace that he began to feel the same sensations of unrest.

With peace brings stagnation, especially when he had reached the prime of his strength years ago. And with the unrest and the unease, brought back the nightmares and the visions.

He saw an endless stream of monsters. Monsters without souls, monsters of black and white.

He was surrounded by them, the field of white roses he stood on, bloodied. Not by the creature's blood—they had no blood—but by his own.

His strikes brought down monster after monster. An unseen weapon striking flesh and bone with ease. Tearing limbs and dispersing the creatures into black mist. But no matter how many he cut down, another took its place.

He would wake in fevered sweat every time. The nights brought nightmares that brought more questions than answers.

He dreamed he was in a small house. It wasn't an especially extravagant house mind you. Not that he could actually tell since he was inside, but something told him, almost as if he could feel it. The room he was in, with a large bed and a large window just across, invoked feelings of security and warmth.

A table by the side of the bed drew his attention. Filled with weaponry of various types, some he doesn't even recognise and some he doubted he knew how to work. The various machinery on the table exuded the smell of oil and rust.

Shades of red filled the room. The bed, the sheets, the curtains on the windows and even the walls. All a different shade of red. And the smell of roses and motor oil. All so very familiar yet he could not tell why.

Home.

This was what his heart told him, and deep down he could not deny his heart's claim.

Something glinted in the corner of his eye.

As he turned to face it, the last things he saw before waking from his slumber was a pair of silver eyes staring back at him from the mirror.

Naruto wondered through the Forest of Death. It was the only thing that warded the nightmares. Of course it did not always work, but it worked enough times.

And it always led him to the very same location.

The largest tree that he had ever seen stood proudly there. It pulsed with more natural energy than anything else in the forest. Much like mount Myōboku, it called out to him, as it would any sage. The energy the pulsed from that place was simply too potent to ignore.

Ignoring the various wildlife that wanted to consume him, he made a beeline for said tree. The moon shining brightly, as he escaped from his troubled sleep and jumped branch to branch at breakneck speeds.

The cool night air made him feel at ease. The familiar sensations of wind hitting his face, something that he can control in his own way.

As he landed on a branch of the tree, a part of himself was still surprised at how big it was. The natural energy was so profuse in this area that it was completely visible, a slight haze in the air even to the untrained eye.

And for good reason

That was new. And most definitely not Kurama talking to him.

What do you want Kaguya?

Silence.

"I don't have time for this," the blonde muttered to himself, as he set about jumping higher and higher up the old tree, somehow easily missing the minute carvings on the branches further up. He wasn't exactly the brightest, nor the sharpest tool in the shed so he couldn't be blamed.

It was at the highest branch, where the natural energy was the most abundant, that he finally stopped and sat.

"So troublesome," he muttered to the air, faintly sure of how much like Shikamaru that sounded. In the years that he has lived, the dreams have become more and more vivid. So vivid that they may as well have been memories. A part of him believed that as true, but would later reject that thought.

After all, he never don those things… right?

At last

What do you want now?

I want nothing from you, this tree on the other hand

Now Naruto may not exactly be the smartest, but when a swirly space distortion appeared around you then it was time to book it.

Unfortunately, the whole world had imploded inwardly rather violently before he could even form an articulate thought. Or more specifically one that was not an expletive or incoherent screaming and all the while Kaguya laughed in her prison that was his mind.

At least one of them was having fun.

Down and down he went through a blinding abyss of ephemeral colours.

Above the blinding lights was the mind numbing pain that racked his body as he felt his body rearrange itself molecule by molecule in a symphony of pain. In another life, another Naruto could sympathize as he too fell down parting through space and time.

He could only scream in pain as his form shortened a tad. His bones cracked as they rearranged themselves, muscular figure becoming less rigid, hips becoming more prominent. Far too prominent for a male figure.

As one who was familiar with the feel of having a female body, he would have immediately recognised what he was changing into. Unfortunately the blinding pain prevented that from happening as he became a she.

His… or rather her skin paled greatly from her natural tanned skin, becoming much like moonlight with how pale she had become. Her hair lengthened and reddened and darkened all at the same time, becoming black tinged with red that reached to just below her now dainty waist. The very last thing to change was his eyes. The sapphire-esque eyes became a vibrant and beautiful silver.

And with her newly acquired form, came the flux of memories.

Grimm.

The creatures the she hunted in her dreams and hunted her in her nightmares. The creatures of darkness with no souls.

Huntress and Huntsmen.

They were much like shinobi from what she could see. Taught the arts of combat and then sent out to the world to save it. But how? From such an opponent that seemed to never end in supply.

Summer Rose.

That same name kept appearing over and over in her mind.

She found herself facing a reflection of herself.

Skin as if struck by the moon light

Hair of black and red, reminding her of Kushina, her mother.

Eyes of iridescent silver

Is this me?

Summer Rose.

Is that my name?

It came as a shock to her when the wind began to suddenly tear at her body. Experience from repeated exposure stated that he was falling from a very high place. It wasn't long at all when she spotted the large ivory tree, standing proudly on the hill. Unfortunately, it hit her as soon as he saw it.

She hit the first branch.

And then another.

And another.

She tumbled downwards, hitting virtually every single branch on the tall dead tree. Only when the sound of crunching snow and the feeling of impact did she realize that she finally reached the ground.

Groaning in pain, she was finally faintly aware of the feminine undertones that poured from her mouth. Faintly aware that, as she subconsciously curled into a ball from the pain, instead of grasping familiar hard tones, she was met with soft yet form contours. And lastly the overlong veil of red and black obscuring her vision, he faintly recognised as hair, shifted with her movement.

As the ninja that invented the forbidden sexy jutsu, she was, after all, intimately familiar with the body of a woman, seeing as she actually transformed into one.

As she faded from consciousness, she sincerely hoped what he thought was wrong with his body was not what he thought it was. Barely giving a thought to the white cloak he pulled over his curled up form and made him feel safe.

A hooded cloak white like snow on the outside and within, red like roses.

END

And there, ladies and gentlemen is it for now

Next chapter: How the hell did I get here and what the hell is going on? The what and why are explored slightly

But that's all for now, hoped you like the ooze that poured from my head

As always thanks for reading! ^.^