Chapter 1
If you were to somehow magically get transported to another world, or just get dumped into a supposedly fictional world, it's funny how the first thing that will pop onto anyone's mind- including mine- is that you would want to make a change.
You'd want to make it better, more awesomer. Please don't be a smartass- I know 'awesomer' isn't a word since I googled it. But you get the idea.
Since you would know the whole plot, propaganda, propagation and.. Uh whut?
Right, moving on.
It's just natural that we'd want to explore and experience the things we've been dreaming of. Like walking on water, for instance! Speaking of which, I tried it and it's much harder than what those fan fictions make it out to be!
When all the initial excitement dies down, realization drops like a bucket of ice water on me. The main question I should've been thinking; 'How the fuck did I even get transported here in the first place?'
I don't know what you would do, but my first reaction is screaming bloody murder at the first person who tries to help me. Really. What kind of idiot are you? Screaming at your only chance of help?
Kind-understanding-talking-blubbering-comforting-and-you-kind-of-hear-your-screaming-mixed-in-with-the-other-hordes-of-high-pitched-sounds, the sounds blend together and form into a sort of panic destruction on the go.
If I were sane, I would've taken advantage of this situation and handle it with care. I'd formulate a plan and organize- Organize what?- as rationally as I can. Putting as much maturity as an adult I am. Twenty is of legal age to be labeled mature, right? Should be enough to make life and death decisions...
But sadly, my insane mind is out of order and is under construction at the moment. So please, Sir-Madam-Whoever you are that's trying to calm my unstable nerves down, could you possibly wait a few long hours for my mental renovation to complete?
If anyone dares to ask me what had happened to me later, I would've said instinct is more frighteningly powerful than an adult mind can cope with.
After the phase of my hysterical mental breakdown flew into oblivion, for now, I can certainly say that I'm ready for my second phase- the more rational part of my mental breakdown.
What on Earth am I supposed to do here? Uh wait; I'm not on Earth am I? Then... Where the fuck am I?! Ninja world yes? Or more precise Naruto-verse? Is it really? Or everything is just my imagination that my slightly hysterics mind made up?
This is certainly the oh-so-perfect place to go on a suicide adventure. Like Oh, let's start at a dark, gloomy looking place with no light whatsoever! And with weird looking tubes all around! Oh, don't forget- Ninjas! We shouldn't forget Ninjas, and a mass hoard of crying chibis. It will definitely be loads of fun!
What was I was thinking of again?
...
Blank. Okay, so lets tackle the more easy part! The part where my 'genius'- see, ha! I so can be sarcastic to myself.- brain comprehends my essentials. Like my name... Do I know my name?
Pft, the genius couldn't even handle my intelligence. Yes, of course I know my own name, so I'm not diagnosed with the so-called amnesia. Cliché plot, yes? I wouldn't do this kind of harsh damage to my already unstable mind; it's too much drama and entertainment. I sound so sadistic and masochistic to my own self...
Age? Twenty. I know that. Perfectly 'youthful' if you ask me. I know you didn't ask me. But let's just pretend I'm narrating my own personal life changing experience to an audience, or readers. But why the freaking fuck do I feel twitchy? Everything just screams troubles. Did that slimy thing in the tube just move!?
..
So, the next question on the list, why for the love of god did I just scream bloody murder at the one person that was willing to try and help me?
Ah, instinct. People do say it's the fact, or quality, of possessing innate behavior patterns. It's also a natural or intuitive way of acting or thinking.
Synonyms to inclination, sixth sense, urges, needs, intuition, hunch, feelings.
The feeling that something is not right with everything, and the needs to rationalize are put to a halt, which brings the more animalistic part out screaming hysterically. Hopefully everything will put itself back together, back where it rightfully belongs. Normality. Oh how I do wish I'm in a Normal place right now and not… No.. WAIT, IS THAT A TENTACLE?!- tentacles wiggling around in a tube.
...
Moving on.
For example, these feelings can be applied to a lost child crying for their parents. But ah, this is where the complication comes. There's a research on how a person's age affects the reactions of physiological emotional stress.
Who am I kidding? My brain is just blocking and vehemently still denying the blaring, glaring fact that- I look down at my now small, child-like, hands. Clenching, shaking, unclenching.
I shrunk.
What? Am I in a Detective Conan Universe now? I snort to myself.
Still, the cynical side of my brain is helplessly trying to reach a more rational explanation, like hallucination. Drugs? Did I take drugs before? No. Ugh. Just thinking about medicine makes me want to heave till I choke to death. Maybe I can escape this semi realistic imagination? On second thought, death doesn't sound very appealing, does it? I still love my life, thank you very much! Still, I haven't achieved my semi unrealistic dreams of marrying royalty, buying a huge as fuck mansion, and have twenty or so slaves that I can basically boss around to fulfil my every unreasonable demand. Or Maybe I died, and this is where I end up? This gloomy creepy place? Is this hell? Oh wait, what was I doing before I got here?
Did I drink? No, I've never touched any alcoholic drink in my entire life before. How could I be drunk enough to hallucinate?
You know, for an adult, the first thing you'd think I would've made an assumption of this is a hallucination and finally coming to a conclusion, it is in fact a thing that my twisted mind had suddenly made up from the increasing stress in my life.
Blearily, I noted that someone is calling for me. Or at least they're trying to make me pay more attention to the important matters on hand, supposedly according to the caller. Maybe I should care to notice that it's sort of important, considering I'm included with the problem. If only I put more use of my cynicism on my surroundings.
Uh, it's not real. So why do I need to do that? That's practically acknowledging my own hallucinations.
Back to the matter at hand, hallucinating child-like appearances would mean insecurity, wouldn't it? Frowning I add, stuck in a child's body; Holding yourself back from accomplishing something you are hesitant about. A major life change. You are not working towards your goals. You're spending too much time in a fantasy world!
I scoff at the information and hypotheses that my own dear brain had come up with. Blasphemy. My own traitorous cynical mind is going against me!
...
Very well then, if my own genius brain couldn't come up with another better explanation, I'll just have to accept the fact that this is as real as it's going to get. With a new found determination I never thought I'd have- For one, I've always gone with the more practical way; running- I nod to myself as I move onwards along with the other chibis that sort of look around my physical age.
Duly noted. I acknowledge the reasons why I didn't think of hallucination as my first assumption. My whole physique feels real, my stress feels real, my disconcerting feels just as perfectly real as any other day, and everything as a whole just feels real in general. Before I even came to those conclusions, I had already acknowledged that at the back of my head. I could see two Shinobi (ANBU). Cosplayers. The way they carry themselves like a perfectly seasoned killing machine crush my thoughts as an alarm in my head starts to ring very loudly with neon signs.
DANGER.
Blaring so, it alerts my already weary physique on high, and my instincts goes into hysterics. My brain ceases to function and it tries to be difficult by rebooting itself to be of use.
This- wherever this is- is so not helping my mental health and whoever came up with the idea that they can just change the plot, or whatever, just being here, is so wrong. And what deity up there was bored enough to pick me and drop me into this hell?! What makes them think I'm the right person to relieve their boredom?!
I'm not your fucking toy for your sick entertainment! I'm going to get out of here and find a way to go back home. Or wake up from this sick dream. Hallucination or not, I'm so not going to stick here for long!
Disclaimer: If anything I own from this is my OC
A/N: Yano when I read self-insert story is always fun on how differ each of the story and how they tell the tale so I'm one of those people who want to try too and please forgive me for any spelling and grammatical errors I will be making in the future.
Un-Beta
First attempt as any is freakishly nerve wreaking and rating would be T bordering M occasionally with my twisted mind and foul crude cursing.
Edited 3/08/2015,
I have added few more details and pacing and also a friend of mine who is willing to go through with my whimsical whims as my beta. She also help alot on correcting my grammars but still forgive us if we had missed any
Beta - Maple