AN: If author's notes (AN) annoy you, these will be only the ones of this story, unless asked. All reviews will be replied to through the messaging system of this website (so I won't reply if you are anonymous). These author's notes will supposedly have enough meta-information for you to enjoy the story (and therefore be entertained).

This story isn't about magic or adventure but about how an organization as big as Konoha (town-sized) is managed and how modern problems can be imported into a fantasy setting and possibly how a normal person (like you and I) would insert himself into an environment like Konoha. If you see any inconsistencies in the events' logic or the characters' actions and motivations, or you note that the world's realism is off, don't hesitate to tell me. My knowledge of this world may be incomplete or not completely accurate.

Each chapter will be proofread before being published to provide you with the best reading experience possible. The chapters will be short to give you an easier immersion into this world, and will progressively increase in length the more the story develops.

This story is fandomblind. It means you need not have read the Naruto manga, nor have seen the anime to understand what happens.

Timeline at the beginning of this fic: Eight years before Naruto's graduation and four years after the Kyūbi accident, and if I am not mistaken, four years before the Uchiha massacre.

Main characters: Hiruzen, most of the characters' parents (Fugaku, Shikaku, etc...). Naruto may appear or be mentioned from time to time. Some OCs will have an important role to the story, as it could otherwise break the characters' identities and roles from the original canon. The OCs' names will sound as Japanese as possible, because the manga, well, comes from Japan. Despite that, as the language in which the story is told is English, the characters would interact with each other mostly in the way of the Anglophone world, so there won't be any -san, -sama or -sensei. Those will replaced by rough alternatives.

What you should expect: Importation of modern problems into a fantasy setting. Battle of wits. Dynamic banter.

Because of the premise, you may find certain things disturbing, such as some aspects of culture feeling unnatural or unbecoming to Naruto's World. For example, certain pieces of technology, clothing, or modes of thought that ought to be absent which are present. Why they are here, is up to you to discover, if you get past the first chapters that is, in any case.

No skill besides knowing how to read English is necessary to fully appreciate this story. Fanon tropes will be avoided as possible (though some of them will be forcibly included considering the size of the fandom). No cats or children have been abused in the process of writing. The themes included won't be science, cognitive science, or other types of science in general. This story won't be of the mystery kind as there will be no narrative tricks that include the narrator's perception, or tricks about meta-level of story-telling or other meta things. Though there won't be changes in the global plot of the canon universe, some local changes (such as characters situation) may be changed throughout the story. There won't be overcomplicated plots with big masterminds either (though side plots won't be excluded). And no matter how much I love Umineko, HPMOR, or similar stories that play on these aforementioned factors, I have learned through hard pain that storytelling telling is a means, not an end. And of course, you can trust everything I said before, right?

I own nothing but my own mind. Naruto's world is my playground and nothing else.

Water is blue but I teach you nothing here. Calm music with a cup of tea is recommended to accommodate the experience. Watermelon is a good choice for a dessert. Spoilers: my rabbit has long teeth but I got no sheep.

Chapter 1:

Welcome aboard the Hell train

X

Outstanding. Outstanding. Outstanding.

Hiro Fukushima was Outstanding. Not that he was called Outstanding, but he was Outstanding with a big 'O' and a little '-ing' in everything he undertook. But he was fat and it was such a fatal mistake for a perfect man. Because of that, his friends called him Jelly Sue, a nickname that he had grown to hate. As such, he decided to follow a two month training regimen under the sun of June and July. One hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, one hundred squats, and a ten kilometer run (do it EVERY SINGLE DAY!), enough to one-punch those pathetic fiends that he used to call his friends. For some reason he could not fathom, all his acquaintances expected him to grow bald at the end of this intense program. Their mistake he supposed, until he realized his own shortcoming as he was now called SJ, short for Super Jelly.

Mister Jelly had just been ordered by his lordship, the Great Daimyō of the Fire Country, to go to a countryside town named Konohagakure no Sato, or Konoha for short, to help them with their 'business management problem'. The Daimyō, who was the equivalent of a king in their state, had pressed that this issue was of great importance and required immediate action. And though Konoha was not the sole military organization in the Fire Country, it was certainly the most eminent, both in scale and political influence, and was therefore an invaluable element, one which the Fire Country couldn't afford to have such problems. Many were proposed for the mission, Mister Jelly included, but only he was selected. The reason for which he took the mission was obvious. If he managed to resolve the situation, it would bring unparalleled achievement to his career.

Once the news arrived, Mister Jelly had immediately packed his suitcase, put a pile of documents and some leaves of his own recipes inside to handle the journey. He had gone by the front door of his house to take the train. Pressed as he was, he didn't notice much of his environment. Until, once inside the train... trees, trees, and more trees, again and again. He lost count of them after the one hundred thousand and forty sixth. Jazz played in the background and the actors prepared for the shift that was about to happen. Shit, he almost fell asleep. He checked his watch but it was only two in the afternoon and he wouldn't arrive until six in the evening, which left four hours.

Then, Kid A and Kid B decided to show up, with laughs, sweets and rainbows. Then came the cries and the mother who came to scold them. Mister Jelly hated children with a burning PASSION. He considered them detrimental, counterproductive, and useless for lack of a better term. His potential wives, girlfriends, or alternatively, gold diggers, always dropped him because he never considered the idea of having kids. If misogyny was a trait, it was one Mister Jelly chose purposely.

Three hours left to kill and Mister Jelly had lost his purpose in life. He considered committing suicide as an exit. He was sure that his head would roll perfectly well with a three hundred mile per hour racing machine throwing it at full speed. In fact, throwing himself through the window was never an option he'd considered before, but the idea tangled inside his mind when he restrained himself from killing the crying children with his bare hands. The only redeeming point he found in them was their stamina to sustain their nonstop crying for hours. The devil inside of his mind muttered that taking them into a dark corner to show them his favorite collection of photos of beheaded cats he carried under his belt wasn't off the table. The angel begged for his patience and promised him precisely seventy seven wives in heaven if he waited for a few minutes. And he regretted that he hadn't taken a bomb this time. Whatever. Terrorism was overrated anyways.

Alas, it was only two hours later, that the children were gone. Mister Jelly was not superstitious, but he estimated the ridiculous probability was not equal to zero that someone was twisted enough to make his wait twice as long it was supposed to be. Maybe it was a mock test intended for him to display his incredible prowess in keeping his cool. His head was burning with calculations when he manically knocked his fingers in two and then in four. Bystanders, who were his neighbors during the journey, looked at him with concern at first, followed by a religious fear when they saw white foam dripping from his mouth. Nevertheless, there were doctors in the train to save the day.

That's how Mister Jelly did not die.

He took a pill and his feverish head cooled down. The magic medicine delivered its effect instantly as he retook composure. He calmly apologized to his surroundings, who replied to him with flaming applause. His prestidigitation was so great that they must have thought for a second his life was in peril. Yet, magicians like himself never delivered their tricks until the end of the show. They brought you to a roller coaster of fleeting sensations until they unveiled the finale. Impersonation, improvisation and adaptability were the keys of survival in this harsh world, after all. But it was in a parallel universe, because in reality, all Mister Jelly did was stay asleep in his seat.

When he checked his clock for the last time, Mister Jelly expected that there would be less than one hour remaining but contrary to his beliefs, the watch displayed one hour less than last time. Unless he entered into a time loop, did he somehow gain the ability to rewind time? He checked if pushing the button would make the world stop around him, but he was quickly filled with disappointment when he noted that nothing spectacular happened. Great, he needed to buy another watch when he finally arrived at his eventual destination. He used his one-time-use towel to clean the dust off his glasses until the voice of the conductor announced throughout the train that there would be some delay. Was there a saying that trains were never late? Natural selection must have gotten rid of the guy who said something so patently ridiculous.

Mister Jelly looked through the glass outside, and saw the background had ceased to move, which meant the train had definitely stopped. Sighing, he watched the sky dimming in an orange-reddish light, if such a color could exist. He couldn't see the sunset as the trees hid it from view, but he guessed by the ambient brightness that he would be at least an hour late. His mood started to turn towards ambivalence about this whole situation. He had tried until now to counterbalance it with humor, but his patience wasn't limitless. He slid down his seat as his head lazily hit the window.

At first, he wasn't sure if he had been happy to leave the capitol to try out a new life. Of course, he should be thrilled. Everybody should be. The mundane life he'd lead until now in the Capitol was free of challenges. He grew up in a rich family, went to a prestigious school, graduated with flying colors, and had a sexually active life. However, the lack of thrills made his everyday routine boring. There were no goals or purposes. Just a giant void. He could blame his upbringing for all he wanted; in the end, he was the one to choose who he became. In a word, he was depressed.

That's just great. I'm late the day I'm supposed to arrive. Good job Mister Jelly, it's a sure way to ruin your first impression, he thought gloomily.

Of course, he could have come one day earlier as he was warned a week ago, but last minute emergencies had rendered his contingencies for naught. First, he had been called to work the day before and stayed until lunch time to cover his colleague's absence. When he had returned home, there had been only one hour left to take the train. But there'd been completely unexpected heavy traffic for a Sunday, which made him miss the first train. The worst part was that Konoha was very far from the Capitol, and not really a touristic destination. That and, for other obscure reasons he could not find, there was only one train a day. Hopefully, the billet he bought had been refunded, even if it wasn't really a problem, as it was the government that would pay for his trip, and the hotel as well. His work ethic caused his dislike for wasting money, even if it was only borrowed.

His fingers traced his suitcase and his three-piece suit had started to smell. Nights were always hot in Fire Country due to its equatorial geography. The lush forests and the rich soil were the tradeoff for the humid and heavy climate. In short, Mister Jelly sweated a lot and it infuriated him far more than necessary. He would not be surprised to find his back stuck to his seat when he stood up.

"Is Mister Fukushima here?" a deep voice asked from the door's compartment. The granny next to him awoke, startled. Mister Jelly settled for a neutral reaction, and just turned his head to the newcomer, who was revealed to be a tall man with large scar across his face. His hair was held up by a single ponytail and his chin was decorated by a cleanly cut beard. However, his green military suit was circled by a rich pelt, and Mister Jelly could not identify which animal it came from. The first word that came to his mind was rustic but the expendable addition of the fur showed that this individual was a high-ranking officer.

"Yes, it's me," Mister Jelly replied with a curt nod as he stood up.

The stranger cast a smile when he offered his hand to him. "I'm Shikaku Nara. I've been sent to escort you to Konoha. Nice to meet you."

Something unusual perked Mister Jelly's interest. Namely, how the heck this man managed to get aboard the train, if he was not there at the departure. Mister Jelly weighed the pros and cons but finally decided to give into his curiosity at the risk of being rude.

"Nice to meet you as well," he responded with a thin smile, "but I'm at a bit of a loss here. How did you manage to get inside the train?"

The man's smirk became more pronounced. "Why do you think there was only one train to Konoha a day these last few days?"

Mister Jelly did not expect his query to be answered by a question. Else, he expected the question to be rhetorical. However, his correspondent seemed to be awaiting a response from him. Was it a test?

"I suppose it could be many things," Mister Jelly started to say. "It could be that the village carefully controls comings and goings. One way to see to that would be to limit the number of arrivals to ease up the different checkpoints."

Shikaku nodded as he combed his hair with his hand. "Five points. You're half right. Indeed, you've managed to factor the obvious fact with a possible way for us to know who exactly is coming in and out. Yet, you overlooked a small detail that made this reasoning pointless. Can you see what?"

Mister Jelly frowned at the remark. He didn't like half-assed scores, no matter the assessor or the question's mark system.

"Basing supposition upon unreliable information isn't part of my job, Mister Nara. You'll have to give me some sort of hint if you want me to deduce more conveniently the whole picture," he said, his tone harsh. Yet, the other man's smirk remained, despite how aggressive he sounded.

"Fair enough," Shikaku shrugged. "I guess. Fine, here's a hint. Konoha's full name is the Village Hidden in the Leaves."

As Mister Nara finished his sentence, Mister Jelly's solution immediately became apparent to him. He didn't get it at first because he considered this notion meaningless until Mister Nara brought it up. He brushed his hair with his hand as to mirror his counterpart's previous gesture to give his speech an even greater impact:

"Hidden means to not be seen, or to not be discovered for what matters. If the village isn't supposed to be discovered, why would there be a direct rail line that leads to it? There could be many possibilities as to how it could be accomplished. It could be that the rail line goes to nowhere, or to some outposts that would stop the unnecessary immigrants. If we go further into the realm of absurd possibilities, I could even say that at the train's final destination, there is a town named Konoha as well but which is Konoha in name only, so those who take this train would think they're visiting a famous military outpost when they're just being baited into a tourist trap. And if we add this with the fact you are here, asking me this question, and the fact the train stopped in such an unnatural way, I can conclude with certainty that it purposely stopped for Konoha to search for me or anybody else the village wanted to welcome, something which was disguised as a technical incident. Am I right?"

Actually, the reasoning was mainly based on the fact there were few people on the train. As an elite salaryman hired by the Daimyō, Mister Jelly often had the occasion to commute through major cities to make a complete report of the situation and to organize the workload around those places. Consequently, taking the train was an almost everyday occurrence for him, and it was the first time he'd found himself in a train so empty. His previous dream with the crying children was the reminiscence of unpleasant moments that still plagued his mind. Actually, when he had bought his rail ticket, he had been asked to give his identity card. All the elements added up to support every word he'd just said.

Mister Jelly observed the slow transformation in Mister Nara's countenance. The smirk on his interlocutor's face faded, and the previously amused expression progressively turned into a snarl. The mouth of the military man then formed a voice that carried a sinister undertone:

"Beautifully right, Mister Jelly."