I do not own Naruto nor One Piece. If I did then there would be no need for a disclaimer now would there?
Rated M mostly for swearing.
On the whim of yours truly, our typical Naruto cast typically known as the Konoha Twelve (or Eleven given Sasuke's betrayal in cannon) are at minimum sixteen years old and dressed accordingly.
Turbulent Cyborg
Chapter 1: Making a scene
Land of Waves
In a poverty laden village no greater than a collection of houses and a handful of poorly stocked stores ran a man gasping for breath. He was as dirty as they come given the lack of showers and fatigue that took a toll on him and the other residents of the village, as well as the other villages and what towns throughout the Land of Waves for that matter, yet he ran with an unnatural power that had given him a purpose which his body and mind refused to deny.
"LOOK OUT! HE'S ON A RAMPAGE!" this man yelled to all that could hear as he passed by person after person without discrimination of age or even gender. What would be fear that would fuel such a shout wasn't present, in its place was a strange hope was laid bare for all to know. "HE'S ON A RAMPAGE!" the man shouted again as dirty tears streaked from his eyes.
On the outskirts of this village this strange shout heralded through the trees, the bushes, and even the water as clearly as a trumpet no matter how faint it was. An aged man of sixty years of age with rounded glasses dropped a bottle of sake and let it shatter without notice on his behalf, but this act wasn't above nor beneath the notice of the company he kept. All, to an individual extent, were curious as to what was so shocking to him. They were further bemused with the elderly man's stumbling charge that left them behind at a distance that grew more uncomfortable by the second.
"Take cover!" Any musings the elderly man had moments before were jostled aside by a man with white but grayed hair that gave it a muted silver color, a plated headband covering his left eye. Kakashi Hatake is his name, a hired shinobi bodyguard from the Village hidden in the Leaves, otherwise known as Konoha, as well as the leader of the team assigned to the task of protecting the elderly man. The tackle wasn't without warrant when a butcher knife-like zanbato flew through the air and carved itself a niche into an innocent tree.
Bodies scattered and reformed in a defensive semi-circle of three in front of the old man with Kakashi the furthest away to face a man who flickered into view on top of the giant sword's grip. The latter man was shirtless, his clothing of choice being blue pinstriped pants, shinobi style sandals, warmers for his legs and forearms meant for more urban combat, and an untarnished headband for the Village hidden in the Mist. Lying short from his shaggy but spiked dark hair was a mask of bandages to hide away his mouth.
"Zabuza Momochi," Kakashi stated blandly as he held his kunai aloft.
"KEEP RUNNING!"
The Leaf shinobi tensed, Zabuza as well though to a lesser extent, when several thugs crashed through the surrounding brush and sped past them all in manic speeds. Every thug that came from the brush had successfully fled the scene save for a handful that were too tired to run anymore from whatever drove them here.
"Hey! That's the guy the boss wants dead!" one of the thugs successfully wheezed out as he struggled between standing erect and hunching over trying to find what rest he could, a condition the rest of the gangsters also suffered. "Y-yeah! Let's get him!" Swords were drawn by every thug there, none of which successful on the first try given their weakened states.
"Oi! I'm not done with you dumb bastards!"
What courage the criminals had dwindled instantaneously by that shout alone and a little under half of what was left of the horde of thugs took off in the direction away from the shout much like a prisoner would when the dogs were let loose upon them, that of the remaining few were either too tired or too scared to make the effort. Their fear substantially increased tenfold when a new figure came crashing through the wilderness more literally than they have.
A fist smacked hard against a nearby tree with enough force to not only break into the wood and bark but also send it crashing away from the blow. "You honestly don't think you can run from messing with me or the town now do ya?" the figure spoke gravely in a low growl to the now hesitantly retreating thugs of eight.
If an age could be placed on him, it would be about sixteen years, standing roughly six feet tall, with unruly blond hair spiking out from under a dark green bandana covering his scalp that held a mix of blue and black highlights amongst the golden hair. Dark tinted goggles akin to swimwear obscured and dashed any chance of spotting what color his eyes were. Beneath the goggles lay a burnt orange open vest with no buttons that covered a dark blue muscle shirt laying underneath. For pants, he wore baggy stonewashed jeans that were tucked into dark brown workmen's boots. His left arm was the perpetrator of demolishing the tree, yet the casual eye could see it was abnormally larger than most when compared to most limbs even if said limbs were muscled in comparison; adorning the skin of his arm was a black tattoo of a star with two particular alterations inside of it: small holes in a grouping of four with no particular pattern adorned his right side while the small stenciling of a blade filled in a void on the opposing side, besides both peculiarities were stubby fat arrows pointing outwards from both sides. His right arm however was the most disturbing; it was obviously mechanical in nature and armored, it was also built to be symmetrical to his left arm despite the obvious difference between the two as the discerning eye could tell. The only other feature to note were three whisker like marks on each cheek.
A concealed eye took in the group apart from the thugs and settled on one in particular. "Yo old man, how's it hangin'?" he suddenly spoke without any hint of the aggression beforehand.
"He's bipolar," a goon whispered to his comrades to which they nodded and gulped. Suddenly the head of the bandana wearer swerved to them with gnashing teeth. "I HEARD THAT!" he roared, followed by a frenzied charge.
"RUN AWAY!" they all screamed as they fled, not caring who they left behind nor what as they fled from an irate blond with newfound vigor on both ends. It was this vigor that gave the goons their much needed edge to avoid what happened next as they retreated into the depths.
From behind the blond a blade slide into view and forced the teenager to a standstill upon finding his neck in what appeared to be a semi-circle carved into the gigantic sword that now threatened him.
"I don't know what you have been doing up to this point but I have a feeling that Gato will pay handsomely for your head after those men get back to the hideout to tell whatever tale of terror you've sown into them." The hand of the tattooed arm slowly rose and griped the edge of the weapon without challenge from the sword's wielder. "Sayonara." The hand wielding the unwieldy weapon jerked back in surprising resistance, the sword refusing to budge.
"Oi, jackass." A pair of eyes glared in a mix of confusion and restrained anger at the back of the teenager's head. A peculiarity however drew his attention to a raised boot now pointed at the general area of his chest. "Boot shot." For the briefest of moments, he could've sworn he saw something slide open along the sole of his boot before a crack reminiscent to cannon fire ripped through the air and the swordsman as well.
Every eye available gawked as they saw Zabuza fly through the air, his mask being stained by a sudden gush of blood, away from the unnamed teenager who then violently turned about with the zanbato in hand with his mechanical fist cocked back. "Rocket Right!" he bellowed as he threw out his arm... literally. Attached to a chain, the hand bearing half of his forearm flew out at the unarmed swordsman. It was in the air for a full second before it gave testament to its namesake; four jets of flame sparked to life and rocketed the limb into the chest of the airborne swordsman and followed him a good ways to a nearby lake before being called back.
"Holy crap. What is he?" muttered a strawberry blond teenager of short spiky hair and blue eyes. He had on a armored variant of a crimson jumpsuit with black shoulders; protective plates were woven into the fabric over the pectoral region and trailed down to his stomach and even spread out onto his limbs. Each plate was dyed to blend in with the clothes, by any margin at least. On his hands were black leather gloves with plates guarding the back of them. Even his shinobi sandals, closed shinobi sandals, were guarded as such. His head was as close to unguarded as one could get minus his headband. His only armament was a kunai case strapped to his thigh.
"I have no idea," voiced a pink haired teenage girl as her awe only heightened as the now rearmed teenager drove the enormous sword into the ground and disturbingly twist his, relatively, normal arm inward to produce a small section of metal punctured with holes that lead inward from what her forest green eyes could see. Her own choice in clothing was a red top with a white circle on the back. She was wearing black gloves and shorts partially covered in a small light pink skirt, it was the same color coloring her elbow protectors. Her style of sandals were more boot like than actual sandals, which went as high as her shins. She too had a kunai holster strapped to her thigh.
All eyes widened save for one pair, they were onyx in color when projectiles fired in rapid succession at the swordsman as he made his way to the cover of the vegetation. The third of the shinobi guarding the elderly man had lengthy black hair that went as far as his neck. Kept loose on his chest is a white shirt opened at the front that left off short of the elbows. His legs were garbed in dark blue pants, further adorned by a matching colored shroud that clung to his waist which was tied off by a purple rope acting as a belt. His style of sandals were far more open than the others in comparison. His weapon of choice is a chokuto, a straight edged katana, held to him by the rope-belt.
Cautionary eyes had taken note of the battleground to mark everyone's position, and they found a certain silvery haired jonin missing from his spot.
From inside the forest, having been forced to take cover lest he be peppered by the strange teenager's armament, Zabuza armed himself with a kunai while his mind raced and attempted to usher a plan of action. He had been disarmed by a deceptively powerful foe that had a weird ability to attack him with his shoes without a hand sign to help explain it. He had at minimum four shinobi and one... something now as his opponents: three genin, a jonin, and some kid who might be something that lay at the tip of his tongue that had some sort of launcher built into...
"Cyborg!" he mentally hissed to himself. They were not a common sight in the Elemental Nations as a whole, but they weren't unheard of. Living men and women enhanced or reconstructed with specially treated metal as to not kill them from the inside by accident by some kind of infection or disease that can be born from such an act. If anything they usually came armed with a shinobi puppet's worth of hidden surprises from concealed blades to hands that can crush rocks for fun if prompted to, though for the most part that was to be suspected if they had a military background. The worst of it was that even if he was facing a civilian, green or not in terms of fighting shinobi, cyborgs are notoriously much tougher than a regular human being if they bothered to protect themselves properly outside of their custom weaponry, provided of course they had any.
Dagger sharp teeth clenched tightly as he came to a distasteful decision: retreat! Finding out what else a cyborg had in store for him, let alone anyone, in the midst of a shinobi fight as not recommended even to the most skilled of slayers such as himself... he'd have to collect Kubikiribōchō later when the kid wasn't looking or better yet dead alongside these Leaf shinobi.
The ex-Kiri operative jerked his head up at the glint of steel and tumbled out of the way to avoid a kunai. He succeeded only to keep it from striking a vital point in his body, either by chance or by marksmanship, with the blade plunging into the flesh close to his shoulder.
"Care to give up Zabuza?" Kakashi asked from his roost above with a smile used by his sole eye. He never received an answer. Not from Zabuza at least. A pair of senbon pierced through the neck of the rogue shinobi and the victim lifelessly fell over, utter shock taking over the look of his eyes. His catatonic state proved not to be an act when a certain teenager with a bandana came crashing through the wilderness once again, now armed with the sword the apparently dead man once used however. "Oi bastard! Where the hell are—!"
Goggled eyes stared at the crumpled heap with a pair of needles sticking out of his neck, then onto a new presence announced with the breaking of a twig. Pale skin and raven hair with much of it tied into a bun holder were the only details that could be noted given this person attire of a mask bearing the mark of Kiri and swirling red waves adorning the bottom of the mask in a pair. In the shade of the forest, he could only make out a brown haori made only darker with the lack of light and given white trims, what lay underneath it he couldn't tell. Platoon sandals was this shinobi's choice of footwear.
"I thank you two for wearing him down to provide me an ample opportunity to strike him down," the masked shinobi softly spoke during a respective bow before collecting the body. Even with a mask on, the shinobi gave a pointed look towards the sword wielding cyborg. A moment of silence and a small breeze ensued before it was broken by the masked shinobi, "May I please have the Kubikiribōchō back? It belongs to my village." A hand was outstretched to stress the request.
Another period of silence ensued between the two, four if Kakashi in the tree and Zabuza being carried like luggage given his current state was to be counted. "Nope."
Eyebrows furrowed behind the mask as the stare became more intent on the blond. "Would you be so kind as to elaborate?" the masked one asked more tersely.
"Simply put, wouldn't it be difficult to lug this," he effectively waves the giant sword around harmlessly with one hand, "and that?" He didn't need to point a finger towards Zabuza's limp form.
In annoyance, a hand curled up into a fist while a calm sigh wisped out from behind the mask. "If that is the case then I'll be back." The masked shinobi flickered away, leaving only a small uprising of water to prove someone was there. The blond smirked and turned around on the heel of a boot with the sword now resting on his shoulder as he walked away towards daylight.
"Well that was interesting. Tell me, are you from one of the islands here in the Land of Waves?" Kakashi asked suddenly from the surrounding brush and appearing a second later with an eye based smile.
The blond only walked passed him with little care in both manner and reply. "Nope."
XVX
Tazuna's home, an hour later
"THIS MEAL'S SUPER!" Other than that, no comment was made by the cyborg as he devoured helping after helping of whatever poor edible object that fell onto his plate. One Kakashi Hatake actually felt pity for each piece of food, be it a roll, noodle, or something else entirely, being devoured with gluttonous glee as well as something else entirely for the one-eyed man. Recognition, or at least nostalgia if the aforementioned word never qualified as a feeling. In either case it was a dull glimmer of something from the past. Regardless, for the past hour since their encounter with the cyborg who proved himself to be unsociable towards the team from Konoha. Specifically towards them as the case seemed to be as Tazuna and just about everyone else for that matter received either a greeting at least or... frankly... any form of answer that wasn't a synonym for the word "no."
Unfortunately what information on him that could be gathered was meager; all hopes for discussion about who he is, where he is from, and what he does have been tossed out the window as mobs formed to greet the cyborg like a returning hero. One thing however was gleamed that only cemented the nagging feeling now plaguing his mind towards familiarity of the somewhat spiteful teenager: his name.
Naruto Frank.
He heard the first name somewhere before, but where was the question. Whatever it was, he knew it was causing a pit to form in his stomach. A pit of regret and anxiety.
Discreetly he pulled away from the table to head for the kitchen, staying close to the wall without hugging it or to draw attention to himself as he walked with a purpose.
His stride picked up in its pace slightly as he neared and entered the kitchen without the notice of his students, the client, his grandson and most especially the blond in question as he was devouring the contents of a rice bowl all the while ignoring questions from his students. He sighed in relief, his current source of information wasn't doing anything that will draw attention, not to mention of course that she had spotted him thus eliminating the need to draw her attention in a inconspicuous manner.
"Evening!" Kakashi greeted with a small wave. The daughter of their client, mother of his grandson, Tsunami smiled and returned the wave. "Is there something I can help you with Mister Hatake?"
He gave her his patented eye smile. "Well yes actually. I was hoping to learn of what you know of Naruto Frank if you would be so kind."
At this a quizzical frown formed upon as she tilted her head slightly to the side. "Wouldn't it be more appropriate to ask him yourself rather than me?"
A soft placating chuckle escaped Kakashi as he rubbed the back of his head. "Actually it seems he's not terribly fond of us—"
"Oh come on!"
"No."
A collective bead of sweat cumulated at the back of the jonin's head and threatened to drop on a moment's notice. "And my students are not making things easier."
Tsunami's frown still adorned her features but Tsunami gave a small nod of her head in mild understanding. "What is it you would like to know?"
"Well let's start from where he's from, what he does, and what he did to become so popular in Wave if you wouldn't mind."
The mother nodded once again. "I personally do not know him as well as say my father, but as I understand it he is from a city called Water Seven."
A brow jerked up on the jonin's head as he contemplated about that piece of information.
The Elemental Nations is one of the few land masses that could be found in the Grand Line, also one of the fewer to have minimal contact with the world outside of its borders between gargantuan sea creatures aptly named Sea Kings and that fact that the only means to effectively travel in the Grand Line, the Log Pose, didn't point in the Elemental Nation's direction in favor of closer islands and the like. In fact most people in the outside world have almost nonexistent knowledge of the continent let alone its people. The only ones who have such knowledge are generally the ones who have lived there and taken to sea, or have been to the continent itself by risking life and limb in the name of exploration. In regards to that matter Water Seven, a city built upon the ocean that specialized in making ships, was the closest to a natural marker in finding the Elemental Nations.
"I know he tends to build things by hand, but I had heard a rumor that he works as both a bounty hunter and a ship demolisher with a company that specializes in it."
Not too surprising to hear; it was said that over sixty percent of jobs in Water Seven were in some way, shape or form related to either ship craft or the amazing invention known as the Sea Train. With the construction of ships, most of which custom in design, as well as repairing them they were bound to attract less agreeable elements sooner or later.
"As for your last question, he and what friends he does bring often helped out in defending the Land of Wave from rogue shinobi trying to extort us on occasion."
"That would help explain his status as a celebrity," Kakashi mused within his mind. While what Tsunami said suggested he worked in a group when fighting rogues, that tidbit alone and what he saw in the brief fight with Zabuza spoke of some experience in fighting shinobi in general.
"Would you by chance know of any of the rogues that Naruto faced?"
Placing a finger on her chin in contemplation, Tsunami replied only after a minute. "From what I know of he had faced and defeated Otto Kuro by himself as well a kunoichi who went by the name of R."
A brow raised on the jonin's head as he organized his thoughts. Otto he knew of for sure as a A-ranked rogue, much like Zabuza save for origin. He would have to look up this R person but if he had to guess then she too was from Kumo as was Otto. "Is that all you know?" he asked as politely as can be.
The daughter of their client nodded curtly before resuming her duties in the kitchen, just in time for a call to cry forth. "May I have eighths please?"
"You glutton!"
Kakashi had to restrain a groan as he rubbed his eye to vent the stress building up. Jerking his head up slightly, his attention returned to Tsunami as she handled a skillet laden with rice. "You said he had friends, could you go into detail of what you know about them?"
"Hmm?" she turned her head slightly to him before her eyes brightened slightly upon understanding what was asked of her. "Oh! Sorry, they must have slipped my mind. I don't know any of them by name really but I think I overheard them call themselves as the Franky Family one time." She chuckled in a demure fashion. "Unfortunately I don't really know much other than they come here every now and then to purchase lumber."
"Come here to purchase lumber?" Kakashi thought. He may not be an expert on sailing but he knew that the trek between Water Seven and the Nations in general was a mean one. Were they really here for only lumber? Certainly there were more readily available sources connected to the city of water that they could access. Then the memory of Naruto's entrance and the abject fear the goons of Gato made no effort to keep itself from crossing his mind.
"Could it be that the Franky Family is a criminal element?" It would certainly help explain why more legitimate sources connected to the city would turn them down. That or if Naruto was an indication then few people were willing to risk upsetting the Franky Family and closed their doors to avoid a confrontation. Either case, the fact that it was no small matter to cross the Grand Line to get here did not help bolster the Franky Family's standing.
And it still didn't relieve the nagging feeling at the back of his mind.
"Oh come on! What do you need the sword for? You're not even a shinobi!"
"Just give it up idiot. It's obvious he's not going to listen to you."
"Shut up you jerk!"
"Kojo!" Kakashi didn't even have to look, nor did he need ears to hear, to find out Sakura had taken to leaving a lump on her teammates head.
At times he wonders why he agreed to take on a team of genin in the first place consisting of Sasuke Uchiha the black haired Avanger of the slain Uchiha Clain, Sakura Haruno, and Kojo Namikaze—...
His blood ran cold and his head creaked to get a better look at the blond with the highlights. If he removed the bandana covering his hair... removed the high lights... got a good look at his eyes...
"It can't be..."
A/N:Just feeding a bad habit to which has been inspired by Captain Ash's story Cyborg of The Hidden Leaf and to a much lesser extent, mostly because in its own way it got the ball rolling, Rise of the Kaizoukage by clashoflegends.
In short, this idea just wouldn't leave me alone.
As for Naruto's arms, if you seen Franky's arms (pre-skip One Piece) then you have an idea of what Naruto's arm looks like minus the arm hair.
Like Snake Sisters, Good Morning, this story will not be regularly updated so it may be weeks to months before I update this on a whim.
Spoiler: Naruto's abilities as a cyborg have been based on Franky's but he does have his own arsenal as well as he lacks some of the abilities the pre-skip Franky has such as his centaur mode for example.
Monkeybandit2, making off with your attention!No refunds.