Scorching Metal

Who I am, Who am I?

AN: This is a gamer fic, with my own twist. I own nothing except my OC. This is more of a prologue, but we will call it chapter one.

You know what sucks about being a hero? No one ever tells you about what you lose in the process of becoming one. My name is Aria Gonzalez, I am a forty year something old mother of four who happens to be a badass doctor if I do say so myself. You see I became a doctor, by a stroke of luck. I came from a small village in the forests of Guatemala. My village was the epitome of primitive, we had no running water, no electricity, heck barley anyone could read above a third-grade level. The infant mortality rate was 89%, with maybe ten children living till the age of childbearing. Because babies dropped like flies, males were favored over females, but every family if they could try to keep at least two girls alive to keep our population viable. My family was quite small with just my mother and I, well I should say my living family. I had twelve dead siblings all from different fathers mind you, and an uncle who passed away, before I could draw my first breath.

Anyway, around the time I was four, a group of missionaries came to our village in the hopes of spreading their religion, Christianity. Although none of the villagers were interested in this Jesus dude, they were interested in the technology that the missionaries brought with them. My village leader convinced the coven leader to bring some of the children with him to train to be missionaries. I, along with several other were selected to go with the missionaries. It was easy to leave my village because I had no emotional attachment to it. My mother had already moved on to the next man and had a baby boy that looked to be a survivor. She practically gave me away.

But back to the point, I moved on with the missionaries, and from there they started to teach us all they knew. I was ahead of my peers and absorbed every lesson with fervor. One of the missionaries, an older woman named Hannah, saw my aptitude with rudimentary medicine. Since she was a doctor herself, she took me under her wing and taught me all she knew.

I stayed with the missionaries for ten years, before Hannah died because of a heart attack. Without my mentor, I saw no need to continue on with the missionaries, seeing as they had nothing left to teach me. They left me at Guatemala City, where I was picked up by the local police, and escorted to the orphanage. I was enrolled in a school, as per my wishes. I paid for my classed by providing medical care, via medicinal herbs, to anyone who could pay for it. It did not take me long to catch up with my peers, and in a year, I had surpassed them. I graduated high school at age 16 with full marks, and from there I was off to the US to study medicine at Harvard medical school.

It was here I met my husband. You see, despite the fact that I was quite intelligent, I never really learned English. Sure, we were taught English in Highschool, but who ever learned English in two years. I was made fun of for my accent and broken English. So much so that I would often practice my English several times in front of the mirror to perfect my accent, or I would refuse to answer a question, unless I was sure I could say it without an accent.

Despite my practice, my accent often came out when I'm angry. And you know what they say about us fiery Latinas. It was in an ethics class, that my temper exploded. We were discussing the Tuskegee case, an experiment to see the long-lasting effects of syphilis by refusing to treat black people with the illness. My temper rose because some girl was defending the ethics of the case by stating the ends justify the means, and that the ethical by laws were not exactly prohibiting the experiment. I went on a rant explaining why she was wrong, by tying in a case that happened in Guatemala very similar to the Tuskegee case. When I finished, the bitch made a snide comment about my person and openly mocked my speaking.

I got a mark on my record for knocking that bitch out, however due to it being my first offense, and her third plus her being the one to initiate the interaction. Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yes, my Husband. If you didn't already notice I have a habit of going on tangents. Anyway, my husband, I met him about an hour after my disciplinary meeting with the President of Harvard. Apparently, the cheeky bastard was in my class. He was a skinny little thing, not sickly but definitely a little wiry.

He apparently wanted to thank me in a way. The girl I knocked out, was apparently bullying him because of his speech as well. You see my husband is from Korea and knew just about the same amount of English as me. While I wasn't really defending him or anyone besides myself for that matter, he still said it felt nice to see the girl get knocked down a peg. Of course, this entire conversation was spoken in broken English, but as a fluent speaker of the language, we were able to work out what was being said.

From that day on he sat next to me in the class, and two others that he was apparently in as well. No words were exchanged, I would just stare at him until he smiled and opened his notebook. It took three weeks of his constant presence for me to just accept that he was now a fixture in my life. Soon we were getting lunch together, studying for quizzes at his dorm, meeting up in the library to do homework, having late dinners. I even got some weight on him by always cooking food for whenever we had to study. Then a year went by then another. Then one night while studying for our first midterm for gross anatomy 312 he leaned over and kissed me. It was quite the shock. When he finally pulled back, I asked him why he did it, and this fool said that he was finally ready for the next step in our relationship.

My mind went blank for a moment. What relationship? Well apparently, we have been dating for two years, ever since I asked him out to lunch for the first time back in our freshman year. Well I guess that explains the big romantic dinners we had at the 1st and 2nd year, and the necklace that his grandma gave him, that he gave to me. It makes sense why he was a little upset about not getting anything back. But he said he chalked it up to me being scatter brained. The more I thought about it, the more I began to realize all of the things I missed. Why he randomly held my hand when we walked across campus. When he wound put his arm behind my chair at the library. How he would kiss my cheek after some dinners. He had also spent some nights in my bed and I his, nonsexual of course, after long nights of studying. How did I miss that I had a boyfriend for two years, and not notice? Huh, well Jinyoung, his name, was attractive and very sweet. I guess I could do worse in grand scheme of things.

With that I pulled Jinyoung in for a kiss and pulled him down onto my bed. Good thing I live alone, since we definitely did not want to be interrupted. Our first time was sweet. Jinyoung was nervous as it was his, while I had definitely had the pleasure of rolling around some sheets back in Guatemala and a few here before meeting Jinyoung. However, once he got into it, it was like releasing a tiger. I exploded with pleasure, and left quite unsure of myself because WOW!. And whoever said that Asian men were small and meek must have never met an Asian man because Jinyoung was neither. If Jinyoung is the only man I sleep with for the rest of my life, Sold!

And the rest is history, we quickly completed our years at Harvard, graduating with our Masters. A small bump, came in the form of our son Myung-soo, of course we got married before the birth, but despite the unplanned deviation we were both thrilled to be parents. Especially Jinyoung, he was such a good father. Even with splitting our time between our career and our family, we both started making names for ourselves in our respective field, Jinyoung being Osteology and me being a General surgeon a bit of a jack of all trades.

In 1999 we extended our family, with our twin daughters Marianna and Damaris. We even got a dog, because someone, insert Myung-soo, was displeased that he didn't get at least one brother. And life went on. With Myung-soo being seven, he was given more responsibility, mostly watching his sisters when Jinyoung or I couldn't. As time passed, I made several breakthroughs on different procedures that were able to increase the chances of success while operating on patients. While I was not a god of Medicine, my name held weight and respect. Jinyoung also made some breakthrough discoveries. Life slowed down with the announcement of my last pregnancy. My little one was more complicated than any of his siblings, so much so that I almost died on the table when he accidently ruptured one of my kidneys with excessive kidneys. If I hadn't gotten injured to stop a crazy man from entering a room in the hospital a couple years back, I would have been in better shape. But I am a fighter. I refused to leave my children without a mother to raise and a husband with a wife to love.

When I came too about a week later, I was handed my son, Chul-soo, I was told that I couldn't have anymore kids because I would not survive to term. Oh well four was enough for me. With my recovery my family grew stronger as we relished every moment with each other.

Exactly 16 years later in 2017, when Chul-soo started college at Boston University for Anthropology, Jinyoung and I decided to expand our horizons. Myung-soo was already in the midst of his residency at podiatry, Marianna and Damaris, both at MIT in their senior year studying engineering, there was nothing really keeping us in Massachusetts. Our babies were already growing and have flown the nest. So, we decided to join doctors without borders in order to help spread the knowledge of medicine that we hold. Of course, if any of our children need us we would be their at the drop of a hat.

We spent the majority of our first year in South America. Towards the end of the year we swung up to Guatemala and even visited my old village. It was not much better than when I left, but they had running water and a school so there was that. Apparently, I am the third missionary kid to comeback to drop of the knowledge we have collected. I even got to meet my brother, who has a small family of his own, six daughters and eight sons. Yeah, he was a busy boy spreading his seed between any legs that would open for him. Surprisingly all of his children have lived, and he is quite the family man. In fact, I was able to deliver his current girlfriends babe son number nine. Before I moved on, I and my husband wrote and taught as much about medicine as possible. The hope is that someone will be able to pick it up and teach it to others in the village that was slowly becoming more than a village in the jungle.

We traveled across the sea to Asia for 2018 and spent a good chunk of it in or near Korea. Jinyoung showed me where he used to grow up, and his family home before moving to America. Halfway through the year we went back home to spend time with the kids. At the start of 2019 we were out to the middle east, helping with recovery relief in areas that were bombed by ISIS or other groups like it.

This brings us to the present. Jinyoung and I were stationed at different hospitals. It was not even an hour into my shift before the hospital was alerted to an incoming missile. We had about ten minutes to evacuate. Several of the staff dipped quickly leaving behind the patients, who had no way of escaping. When the first bomb hit about a mile away, I was in the middle of handing a sick child to a passerby woman. There was a lot of panic as people rushed away from the blast zone. I had a choice. Abandon my patients or continue my duty as a doctor and help my patients until my last breath. With a shaky breath I decided. With a quick swipe of my phone I typed out a quick and meaningful message to my family wishing them all the love in the world before I ran back into the hospital.

I managed to evacuate five floors of the fifteen-floor building before a bomb hit the side of the building. There was a giant whole where the wall used to be. I quickly hurried to cover a small girl when a second bomb hit mere seconds later.

You know when I died, I thought it would hurt more. It didn't hurt that my skin burned beyond compare. It didn't hurt that my body broke beyond compare. It hurt that I would never get to see my children smile again, nor my husbands. That I wouldn't be there for their weddings or for their first child. I died a hero, but I lost more than I thought I would.

Death was a peaceful void of nothingness. I floated a long for what seemed like months, no pain, no sadness, no anything. And then all of a sudden there was pressure. It hurt more than I thought it would. After a while of feeling nothing the sudden sensory input made me want to scream. The pressure continued as it squeezed all along my body. I could feel a sort of coolness where my head was. Do I even have a head anymore? The pressure increased to an unbearable that I felt like glass being squeezed. Then all of a sudden it was gone. Replaced was an environment all to bright and too loud.

If I wasn't crying, I definitely started when something ruff hit me. I tried to open my eyes, but it was still to bright. And I couldn't make out any of the noises. Then I am wrapped in a warm thing and placed in something. What is going on? Where am I? As if by magic, my sense started to get under control. It started with my touch. I recognized the thing surrounding me as a blanket. Then my hearing. I could make out a language, but I didn't have any clue what was being said. Then my eyes opened and slowly adjusted to the brightness. When it cleared, I saw a woman with green hair and orange tips? What kind of hair is that? Standing next to her was a man with blood red hair.

The women kept saying the same thing over and over "Hikaru" Who am I? To make matters worse just as I thought that question a blue box appeared in front of my face.

Welcome Hikaru to the Game of Naruto would you like to play?

Yes or No

AN: And Finish. Yay! This little bug has been swimming around in my head for a while, and it would just not leave, so I had to write it. If you didn't already notice this story is probably going to be vastly different from anything I have ever written before, so let me know with constructive criticism if you think there is anything I should improve on. Oh, timeline if you couldn't work it out. Aria is born in 1972, goes to college at 16 in 1988 and meets Jinyoung, has Myung-soo at 20 in 1992, has Marianna and Damaris at 27 in 1999, has Chul-soo at 30 in 2002, dies at 47 in 2019. I am probably going to finish the next chapter sometime either this week or next week. After that finishing my Pokémon chapter that is 85% written. Next onto my Celestial Splash. I know I have been neglecting it, and I am sorry. After that is Naruto the Rokubi Jinchuriki, I actually have some ideas for the plot, so I am very excited to write it. Lastly the Son of Sourwolf, this one I do not have any idea what to do with it so don't expect an update for a bit. I want to that you all for being so patient with me. All I ask is for your continuing support. Till next time.