Remember you are mortal

The Failure

As far back as I can remember I was a failure. A failure of a Mage, a failure of a son and even a failure of a brother. I hated it. I hated myself, for a time I hated the world. It was a deep resentment that made me distant from my family...or what was left of it.

I guess though most of all, I was jealous of him. He had everything, a genius befitting the Thousand Master's son they would say. Constantly comparing us, and even though I had graduated in the same year(but two years older) I was overlooked. I didn't have his natural talent, I struggled with even the most basic of spells, and my own book smarts were nothing to write home about. But, I persisted, people who knew my father more closely said I was just as stubborn as he was...it made me happy in an odd way to share something besides his blood and DNA running through my veins.

I had managed to graduate, bottom of the class, compared to the valedictorian that was my prefect little brother. I found it odd to say the least; of our parents naming choices, and the pronunciation was constantly garbled, mine far more so. I mean who named their kids after a ramen topping and a leek!?

I had found it ironic that my assignment put me in the care of an old business man in China. An old friend of the headmaster's who dealt with various trading companies, and was a decently skilled Mage too boot! I grew a bit under his tutelage, perfecting my Chinese wasn't difficult my pen pal (one I made in boredom years ago) had taken to teaching me the language. Her English was...rough to say the least, the writing itself wasn't to bad but the grammar!

At times though I was bored, I had taken up martial arts, as I knew that wizards came in two combat flavors: unfit and powerful, or an all round magical and physical beat down...I might have been a bit biased. I had taken to the Bājíquán school of discipline, a choice I made completely on the things I had seen in various movies. I still practiced my magic of course. I had managed to enhance several basic wind and light spells, for a variety of occasions. The old man said I had "zero talent but an infinite amount of ingenuity." I had been indignant, until I looked up the word and was touched.

The old man, Wang Tao was annoying, sending me on all kinds of tasks, from meeting with clients he didn't particularly like, too hunting down minor magical artifacts and rarely to fight minor Mages for various reasons. Trespassing, theft, and the occasional magical muggers (as I liked to call them.), who knows if I kept it up I might just gain an epithet!

There was a saying that went something along the lines that "all old men knew one another", and I was pretty convinced that it was completely true. Apparently, I was supposed to learn a NEW LANGUAGE in a MONTH! All because of a request an old friend of his had asked. It was minor demon hunting, and I was to stay until the his friend allowed me to leave.

I was suspicious of course, why was I required to stay longer than necessary? And on top of that why me in particular. It felt kind of-fishy.

By the months' end I could only hold a basic conversation, and read simple instructions, requiring a book for anything more than that. I sighed, I had hardly gotten any sleep, a solo assignment away from China would be nice, I had even acquired a taste for traditional Chinese clothing, and of course martial arts garb. Although, a simple shirt and jeans, with a jacket was my preferred dress.

I was grateful for the map (his friend's place was apparently a humongous institution, that was practically a town. I combed one hand through my hair, futility trying to calm the sea of blond spikes, a nervous habit I had picked up from somewhere, dragging my luggage behind me with the other.

It was tiring, as I had gotten lost several times, and had taken the wrong stop at least four times. But, I had eventually made it to the Dean's office. Only to discover the true reason for my presence, and giving my hypothesis that all old people (men) knew each other, more ground. It was a challenge, to further my martial powers, to hone my (lack of) intellect with the sword called a pen, and too reconcile with my family.

To improve my magical abilities and become a Magister Magi, I had to once again go to school and get together with him.

My brother.

Negi Springfield.

Eventually, although it was rocky, I made new friends at school, with my brother's students, and had even begun to slowly patch my relationship with my brother. But, now I can't, not anymore.

Kurama, Negi, Chamo, Asuna, Konoka, Mana, Ku Fei. Ayaka, Asakura, Shikamaru, Chouji, Kiba, Kotaro. And everyone else. I can't stay with them anymore, I'll just be a burden, a bother. Useless.

Useless.

Useless.

Useless!

Useless!

I'm too weak, I'm not a genius Mage like Negi. Or just plain powerful like Rakan or Dad. I wasn't a martial art master like Lee or extremely skilled like Setsuna.

I was a burden.

Because of me, because of me!

Because I was too weak Kaede died.

This is my take on a story where Naruto truly is Negi's brother, I will be merging the two sides as best as I can. However, most will be split into three categories; mundanes, chi/ki users, and magicians. The final group which will have 4 at most will be people who use Kankaho. So 6 users in total including Takahata and Gateau. Kakashi is definitely one of them, the time of Naruto's arrival in Mahora is around the festival. A solid date hasn't been decided yet.

Obviously, this chapter is narrated from Naruto's points of view, this is from Mundus Magicus.