Hello all, my name is Caligula but you can call me Cali! ^^
I'll be honest, I'm not a fanfiction writer. Not really. I usually just roleplay some R18 stuff on Omegle and in the gmail 'hangout' chat thing.
But, this idea literally just popped into my head out of nowhere. I felt like ignoring it but like most ideas for new fanfics, it festered in my head like blood in the ocean and then it promptly attracted the sharks known as 'Drive'. So I thought, why not, if all goes well then not only do I make a fanfic everyone will enjoy, I'll also end up getting a bit better at roleplaying. Though don't expect any lemons or anything, despite my experience in roleplaying smut, I'd rather not have to describe other fictional characters that I like doing it. It just feels... weird.
If I know fanfic readers though, you all probably skipped this author's note. So I'll just cut here. Have fun!
The Marvelous Shinobi
Arc 1: Memento
Chapter 1: It all starts here
In this world, there are Shinobi. In this world, there are Hidden Villages. In this world, there are colossal living constructs of chakra with animal-like form known as Bijuu. In this world, we have ninjas shooting fire, lightning, water and etc at each other and bandits for many reasons. This world has war, this world has death, this world has wonders.
Yes, in the Elemental Nations, there are many interesting and amazing people, beings, places and secrets.
None of which hold a candle to what is about to transpire.
It is 11:59 PM. Dead of the night. Most people are asleep, the majority being civilians. Many Shinobi are probably still awake doing their jobs, nightly patrols or simply getting smashed at a bar. Most Genin level Shinobi are probably asleep as well.
It mattered not, awake or asleep, what was about to happen was going to effect a multitude of the world's population heavily.
In this world, a select few, the dozen among millions, were about to be given something interesting. Something that was out of this world... to be specific, from what was once another world entirely.
What did these people have in common? Nothing. Some were civilians, some were Shinobi. Some were Genin, some were Jounin and higher. Some were loyal ninja in their villages, some were criminals.
Fate cared not for their status, personality, nor gender. For they were all about to be granted something no one else could ever hope to obtain.
Memories... from different people, from a world long lost. Past lives perhaps? Maybe. Reincarnation? Possibly.
Either way... our story begins when the clock struck midnight, and these different people were all assaulted by memories. Some felt the memories surface slowly, like something they had long forgotten. Some felt the memories rushing in all at once, like a torrent of information. Some had their personality immediately flipped 180 degrees to match the personality of the original owner of these memories. Others continued to bare their original personalities.
But now, we shall focus on one specific person... in a village hidden in the leaves...
A young boy with blonde hair, sapphire eyes and cheeks bearing whisker-like marks.
A boy... name Uzumaki Naruto.
He remembered swinging. With what, he had no idea, but it felt awesome. To swing from the ridiculously tall buildings in the colossal village with bright lights and loud noises coming from the streets that were packed with people and strange metal carriages with no horse pulling them.
He remembered swinging down from the tall buildings to beat up bad people. Most of them were like bandits, wielding strange metal weapons that could shoot small projectiles like pellets. The pellets were made of metal too, and God they were fast.
Most of them never hit him though, in fact they almost never did. He was simply too fast, and he reacted with enough speed to dodge them and beat the bad guys with his own fists and feet. Sometimes he would shoot some kind of strange white gunk at them from his wrists, like some kind of glue, which would immobilize them. maybe this is what he uses to swing from the buildings.
He remembered a loud man, shouting bad words and orders to take photos. He remembered a girl with reddish hair and a pretty and mischievous smile. He remembered a thin and nervous guy, who felt trustworthy. He remembered a large and tough looking guy, who hurt him a lot before but ended up being one of his best friends. He remembered a nice old lady who he cared very deeply for... she was... family... they were... friends... and family...
Friends..? Family..? But...
He had none...
He started remembering other things too... strange things...
He remembered a strange man in a green costume with a funny yet scary looking mask and a crazy laugh, who threw bombs at him and rode on a weird metal bat thing.
He remembered a man who had a big tail with a gun in it... or was it a spike? He remembered a lizard man with a white coat, an old man with armor and sharp green wings, a huge man with a grey bodysuit and horns, a man with a fishbowl for a head and a cape, a man who could turn into sand... and a man... no, a monster wearing a black bodysuit and had many sharp white teeth and a long tongue.
These people... were bad people... but they used to be good? Some of them felt like they used to be good...
And then there were others... a man wearing full body armor and had fire coming from his feet, somehow letting him fly. A man with long blonde hair and a hammer and there was lightning and thunder around him. A woman who could control the weather, a short angry man with a stupid yellow costume and metal claws coming from his knuckles that dared people to point out how stupid his costume looked, a man who wore a black and red bodysuit and kept annoying people and somehow just never seemed to die, a huge green man who was always angry, a man wearing a blue costume and had a big shield that felt strangely patriotic looking, and many other people who looked and acted differently with different powers, but they all shared one thing in common.
They were... his allies. Comrades.
Friends.
But the 9 year old didn't understand these memories. His mind was too young to simply absorb them and let them settle as a separate collection. Combine that with how emotional and sensitive he was, and how he was abused nearly all the time... his mind was not the best.
So instead of storing them as memories of a different person with a different personality...
His mind absorbed them and simply let them mix.
A young boy with spiky yellow hair and whisker marked cheeks was sweating as he trashed on his futon, his blanket already thrown off him. His eyes were shut and his brow was furrowed in pain. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, his sapphire orbs dilated as he immediately got up and rushed to the bathroom before throwing open the toilet and throwing up whatever was in his stomach, which happened to be a lot of partially expired ramen.
He continued retching as his head ached horribly, pinpricks of tears beginning to form on his eyes. After several minutes of vomiting, he was left panting for breath. Slowly, he reached up and flushed the toilet before staggering to the sink and washing his mouth, and then his face, before he looked up into the mirror.
His own reflection stared back at him, tired blue eyes blinking blearily.
Where this any other child living alone, they would probably just look away and head back to sleep.
Him on the other hand...
"...why is my hair yellow? Wait, why am I a kid? No, I AM a kid, I'm supposed to be one, right? I'm not an adult... but I'm supposed to be one.. isn't my hair brown? No, its yellow, but it feels wrong, or does it..?" the boy muttered confused as his head ached and images began to flash in his mind. "Why do I have whiskers, are these tattoos? What's Aunt May gonna say when she sees these... who's Aunt May? Why do I know that name if I've never heard of her..? why do I..?"
The boy began to feel heavy as his eyes drooped a bit. He shook his head rapidly to clear his mind, only to make his headache worse. Gritting his teeth, he slowly stumbled back into his futon, laying on his side as he tried to sleep.
"Why do I know so many names and faces... but I've never seen them... why does my head hurt so much... why do I know so many people... so many nice and bad people..."
Slowly, he began to doze off, his eyes slowly shutting.
"Why do they call me that weird name... that's not my name... my name... is... Naruto..."
His eyes shut as he felt something slowly click into place, before his consciousness began to fade.
"...no... My... name... is... Pe...ter..."
All around the Elemental Nations, various individuals, young and old, male and female, were given memories from different individuals. Why this happened, only God would know...
However...
Not even God could predict the adventure that was about to begin.
And it all started with this young boy.
One who would soon start his journey to be a marvelous Shinobi indeed.