Once upon a time, in the magical land of America, a very pathetic boy was born. He accomplished absolutely nothing with his life, and died a virgin at the age of 20 when a heart attack took his obese ass to the grave.
Then, as if even fate itself took pity on him, his soul was transferred to another world. This went as well as you'd expect, and on his first mission as a genin, he died like a bitch. Fate allowed him to try again, as many times as he needed. He died like a bitch every time, going down even to mere bandits. Life was hell for this loser. For a weak background character in a deadly world, life was hell.
After the first few hundred years, he started to get good. After the first few thousand years, he managed to make it to his first Chunin Exams. And with four hundred decades of combat experience and knowledge under his belt, the boy was finally able to become a Jonin. And more importantly, he was able to become a man.
And then, at the age of 20, he died from a heart attack. Furious, the man demanded a new destiny for himself. Once again, fate pitied him, and granted him a new life different from any he'd experienced before.
And so, one young girl by the name of Ryuichi Torakami was born.
In a pink room with white flowers on the walls, a four-foot-tall girl glared into the mirror. Yellow eyes glared back at her, her purple hair cut boyishly short at the front, a long ponytail at the back. She wore a white shirt and skirt over black pants, a kunai and a bag of shuriken attached to her hips.
"I never asked for this," She attempted to growl, but her high voice just wasn't deep enough.