Note: I'll keep these here until I can find a title for this.
Also, consider this my take on Soul of the Seal: The Ninja Adventures, without the suck and a lot more Corey Hart.
From darkness… comes light.
Heavy lids opened slowly after what seemed an eternity closed, and the light of a new day assailed his eyes…
"I'm alive… again," the man finally said in a guttural whisper as he stared incredulously to the ceiling of his apartment.
"How am I here? Last I remember, I had finally set it to self-destruct," the man mused aloud, taking stock of his surroundings. "If that's the case, then why have I awoken in this place?"
"And for that matter," he added, "why do I speak my thoughts aloud, even when I don't mean to?"
After putting aside the matter for a later moment, he slowly and painfully pulled himself out of bed, yanking the covers off gingerly as a small part of him knew that if he didn't take it easy, he'd probably rip the satin sheets off in one go.
As he surveyed the gleaming black metal that made up his arms, he was once again reminded of how he didn't ask for any of this – nor did he ever have a chance to.
Still, the day was new, the sun was shining, and there were many things to do today.
Once he was done taking care of his morning rituals, he had pulled on the usual – a skintight vest that felt and served as a second skin to him, and a black coat over that. After deploying his sunglasses with a tap of his forehead, he made to the door…
…only to recoil backwards as a jolt of what appeared to be electricity blasted him from the doorknob.
"That's new," he grunted, suspicion immediately creeping in his voice. "I'm certain I didn't put this light show on my front door."
Deciding to put the shocking door to the test, he eased his hand out towards it… only for a curl of lightning to flash, pushing his hand back.
"Okay, my front door doesn't respond to diplomacy. What now?" he asked aloud, and then his training kicked in. Force, and lots of it, would be his next resort.
Gritting his teeth and rearing back one of his metallic arms, he called on as much bioelectric energy as he could for a punch that could hopefully shatter that electrocuting front door of his.
He tensed, stepped, and swung.
Pain erupted all over his body as the electricity reacted with a fierceness that somehow seemed equivalent to the force he dispensed in trying to punch the door open, and it would be several minutes before he could open his eyes again.
"All right," he muttered after dragging himself back to his feet, "there's got to be another way out of this thing."
He tried opening the windows, but they were pried shut; next, he tried punching them open, only to be repulsed with another jolt of that accursed electricity. Even trying to punch his way through the floor resulted in more electricity when he felt his fist tear through the concrete. What had unnerved him was that after his attempt to demolish his apartment resulted in a powerful flash of electricity that knocked him out cold for several days, he woke up to find his apartment in the same condition as he first found it.
Hours turned to days, and days turned to weeks, and the man continued probing his mind for how and why he was confined here. Could this be another one of those hallucinations people say they had as they went near death? Could he himself be dead, and is this the afterlife's way of punishing him for the things he had to do?
So the days passed, and he entertained himself during his captivity by watching the same old movies on the TV, playing the same old games, and listening to the same old music, all the while drinking, smoking, and taking his medicines religiously.
Midway through assembling yet another clock, the gravity of the situation finally assailed him.
Sometime within the fifth or sixth year of his awakening, suspicion slowly gave way to panic, and as he went and shattered a bottle of wine he kept at the back of his refrigerator, the fear began to escalate around him as the kitchen counter he had chipped from breaking the bottle had reverted to its previous, pristine state.
In sheer disbelief, the man opened the door only to see the same bottle of wine where it was in the refrigerator… and that his hand was not holding anything.
Turning to the cabinet where he stored all the clocks he made, he flung the door open, only to gasp as to see it completely empty.
With his mind close to unraveling completely, the man named Adam Jensen bolted to the living room, fumbled for the remote control, and pushed the button on his television.
"I expect you to be able to take care of yourself, Naruto-kun," a smiling old man with white robes and hat said as he handed a set of keys to the viewpoint character, and Adam thought back to one of the films he and Megan enjoyed.
It's called a changeover. Movie keeps right on going, and no one in the audience has any idea.
This isn't any of the movies I've watched, Adam thought. I think I'll continue to see this.
"Okay," Adam said after taking a calming draught of bourbon and a hit of his cigarette, "time to take account of my current situation. First, I appear to be locked in my apartment; any attempt to escape will result in immediate – and painful – electrocution. Second, some sort of science-fiction temporal paradox is making sure I have clocks to make, cigarettes to smoke, bourbon to drink, plus food, running water, electricity… and it somehow maintains the condition of my apartment, repairing any damage I make to it. Lastly, the only thing that seems to work right is the television, but every time I turn it on, it's some sort of first-person account of a kid's life… a serial."
He took a deep breath and started to think.
"I think I might be trapped somewhere," he decided. "Until I find out more, I'm going to wait for something to change."
And then he sighed.
"Looks like I have to watch this boring old serial about this kid again," Adam finally declared, "thankfully, they didn't touch my movies. I can always watch them if this kid's life story gets too damn depressing. He didn't ask for any of this, either."
And so, Adam Jensen watched – and waited.
Meanwhile, in the Village Hidden in the Leaves, another boy was also watching – and waiting.
Today was the tenth of October, and despite today being his birthday, the first time he went out and tried to celebrate it, some of the more drunken townsfolk actually sought him out, trying to burn his apartment building down before the (super-COOL!) ANBU decided to intervene.
He thought to go out and ask what in the Sage of Six Paths were their problems with him, but ever since seeing the (again, way cool) ANBU take out the first would-be attacker with what the Academy called taijutsu, he got the memo quickly and stayed out of sight for the rest of the day.
The glares had hurt him deeply, though he did not yet understand how deep or even why they did it; all he knew was that as long as the people of Konoha didn't see him – Uzumaki Naruto – they wouldn't level those glares at him.
However, it had gotten to the point where he had to ask for a place of his own; he just had to get away from the orphanage and the people in it, so much so that he almost broke down in relief after the Old Man Hokage granted his request.
He turned away from the window for a moment and towards his apartment's living room table, where a steaming cup of ramen was waiting for him. However, before partaking of the noodle treat, he ambled towards the refrigerator, opened the door…
…and sighed as he felt the last bits of cold from the freezer ice melting exit the refrigerator in a resigned mist. Figures they'd cut off the water, the electricity… who knew what other petty indignity the people of Konoha would heap on him for reasons he had yet to figure out?
It was thanks to the Hokage finally relenting and teaching the boy a basic jutsu to warm water up that he was able to get his cup of instant ramen going; better eat it before it's cold, Naruto mused before picking up his favorite set of porcelain chopsticks (a housewarming gift from an unknown party) and digging in.
I've dealt with the orphanage, and this is nothing compared to that, Naruto told himself. His resolve to become Hokage and be recognized as a person of some worth solidified as he took in the fragrant noodles and pleasantly-flavored broth.
I can deal with this, and then it's back to the Academy tomorrow.
A disgruntled Adam Jensen had had enough for a day and turned off the television, turning to where his collection of film discs were kept, intending to watch something different from the same old serial he tuned into day by day, also known as the life and trials of Uzumaki Naruto.
"Hard-Boiled, seen this a hundred times, Die Hard, A Better Tomorrow, Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter…" he enumerated as he combed through his movie collection, "ah. This one I haven't watched in a while: The Story of Ricky."
Readying himself for another ninety minutes of hilarity, the augmented agent placed the disc on the player, opened his television, and grabbed some popcorn from the pantry to microwave.
A part of him had already become resigned to the fact that he might be confined for a large period of time, and would enjoy his incarceration through whatever means he could.
However, before the scene where one of the bad guys committed ritual suicide and used his own guts to try and strangle the hero, something called a chance encounter happened, sending the past and future of the world into a head-on collision…
"So today, class, we shall be taking up meditation. Most of you may not be able to use chakra yet, but meditation will help you get a feel for it and familiarize yourself with it," the teacher said, and Naruto – though at the end of the class – wrote copious notes about it.
Since he saw the ANBU's power and the respect everyone had for Old Man Hokage, Naruto's life dream crystallized into being. He wanted power, respect, recognition… and he'd get it when he became Hokage – the ninja leader of the Village Hidden in the Leaves.
And since to be a leader of ninja, you had to be one, Naruto brought himself to take his study in Konoha's Ninja Academy seriously. He hadn't yet stumbled onto the fact that even his instructors looked upon him with disfavor for – once more – reasons he had yet to find out, and thus his drive for knowledge hadn't taken a serious dent… yet.
Right after the instructor's droning tone finished, his assistant immediately stepped in, asking everyone in the class to begin meditation.
Every student had moved the Academy seats to the side, allowing them to sit in lotus position and thus be in the most optimal stance to tap into their chakra. As soon as the assistant said "begin", every student closed their eyes and began focusing on their breathing.
In a different universe altogether, Naruto's meditation would lead him nowhere.
However, here, as soon as he began looking inward for the feeling of chakra, the boy felt an undercurrent of something flowing within him, latched onto it, and when his eyes opened, Uzumaki Naruto found himself in yet another apartment building.
And looking incredulously at him was a man wearing a black trench coat and sunglasses.
Adam Jensen could not believe it. One moment, he was watching Ricky punch through a prison guard, next, a boy with blond hair and blue eyes appeared in front of him.
A very familiar boy… the boy who was the star of the new show on television.
"Naruto, huh?" he asked. "Naruto Uzumaki?"
Naruto stood up warily and considered the stranger before him. While he did carry himself like a ninja, his outfit screamed different even more than the orange shirts he'd gotten around to wearing. Dark everywhere; even the (super-cool) ANBU didn't wear this much black. And those sunglasses – it was the first time he'd ever seen sunglasses that didn't have any rims.
"Who are you?" he asked carefully, and he couldn't help but notice the quickly-squashed feeling of surprise of the man in glasses.
"Adam Jensen," the man replied, and Naruto found himself confused. "The question is, why are you in my apartment?"
"Your apartment?" Naruto asked, beginning to take into account his surroundings. He'd never seen a place like that in his life, and everything looked so... so strange. "I was meditating... so how did I get here? Did I imagine it?"
"No," Adam replied, "you most certainly did not imagine it. And if you somehow ended up here… how the hell do I get out?"
He made to approach the boy to maybe give him a fright, but as soon as he took one step, the apartment rocked as if an earthquake was assailing it.
When he swung his eyes back to where the boy was, Adam Jensen was staring at nothing but empty space.
After an hour of pacing around the apartment, he finally decided to put his thoughts down to paper and maybe start deciphering the puzzle in front of him as to his condition.
"All right. First thing I need to do is write what I know. One, I'm at my apartment. Two, I cannot leave my apartment. Three, the only show on the television is the life of Naruto Uzumaki, someone who has appeared here out of nowhere. Wait."
He went to the television, and opened to where Naruto was being berated by his Academy instructors for releasing a lot of chakra when he finally tapped onto his chakra for the very first time. Adam had to grunt at how biased the instructors were – out of the corner of Naruto's eye, he could see the same instructors shower praise to some other student. Discarding the event aside, he focused on the show.
By the first hour, Adam already had his suspicions, and when the second hour of the life of Naruto passed, he was quite sure that the show on his TV wasn't a show, but rather looking through the eyes of Naruto Uzumaki himself.
There were no commercials during the two hours of his watching the life and times of one Naruto Uzumaki... none whatsoever.
Taking into account of the fact that Naruto showed up when he meditated, Adam's thoughts began to take a much darker turn when he began to consider the possibility that he was somehow trapped within the boy.
A sudden wave of nausea swept over him, and he couldn't help but turn off the television and head to bed in his weakened state. Tomorrow would be another day.
Eyes open.
Muscles tense and relax at the lack of covert or overt threats in the vicinity.
Activate all passive augmentations.
Get up and go to the bathroom.
Start the day, open the TV, see Naruto's life...
...and freak out.
"What the hell?" Adam asked as he saw something right out of the Blair Witch Project on the screen. Paper lanterns whizzed past his eyes as his point of view surged haphazardly forward.
"Where is that thing?" an angry voice cried from close by.
Adam's eyebrows quirked upon hearing it, and wondered as he heard Naruto's panicked breaths as he took shelter under a few crates.
"Just stay there, kid. Stay quiet. Don't panic. How close are you to home?" Adam asked to no one in particular, not even noticing that his augmentations were already active.
"Mr. Jensen?" a panicked voice came from the screen.
"You can hear me?" Adam asked, hope soaring as he yet looked at the screen.
"I can," Naruto whispered back. "It's… Teuchi-jiji and Ayame-nee-chan gave me a birthday meal, but I took too long and now some of them are after me, and the ANBU aren't here yet…"
"Calm down," Adam replied, "and tell me if you recognize any buildings. Stay out of sight when you try and look."
"Okay," Naruto said, and after taking a second or three to poke his head out and look at where the buildings were, found that he was in the building next door to his apartment.
"I'm close to home," Naruto replied. "I just need to get there before they do."
"All right," Adam said. "Take to the shadows of the building and walk – don't run – to your apartment. Slow and steady."
The augmented man nodded as he saw Naruto follow his advice, walking at a slow and steady pace from the alley to the door, minimizing his presence and keeping the lowest profile possible.
"Slow and steady, that's it. You're almost there. Easy steps," Adam continued, allowing a small grin to bloom on his face as he saw the kid follow his advice word for word. "All right. Now open that door..."
Both Naruto and Jensen let out sighs of relief when they finally made it to the apartment frightened, but unharmed.
"This happen all the time?" Adam asked as soon as Naruto was enjoying a cup of instant ramen.
"Uh-huh!" Naruto said after a slurp of instant ramen. "I guess my birthday isn't such a good day for me."
The boy quickly stood up. "Did you hear that? I didn't actually say it."
"Oh, I did," Adam replied, "loud and clear. I guess that means we can communicate now without you dropping by here."
"Yeah," Naruto said, scratching his head before taking another bite of his reward from another birthday close call. "That's pretty cool, you know, Mr. Jensen."
"What was?" Adam asked.
"How you got me home. I was just, uh, about to run. You're like one of those ANBU."
"ANBU...?" Adam asked.
"Yeah, they're these ninja with masks. Way cool." Naruto pointed outside the window towards a ninja wearing a dog mask, and waved towards him.
An awkward wave from the ninja met him before the sentinel vanished in a swirl of leaves.
"Cool, huh, Mr. Jensen?"
"Yes..." Adam replied, momentarily shaken from his thoughts. "Very cool indeed."
Adam Jensen was currently seated on his bed and thinking.
"Okay, let's recap. I see what Naruto sees on the television, the computer on my desk is somewhat not working that well, my recipe book seems to have been updated with the ramen from Ichiraku's or whatever Naruto calls it, and my pantry has one whole shelf with nothing but variants of instant ramen. I think this seal is letting me experience the world through Naruto... but if I'm in him, where am I in him?"
He stood up and went to the door, probing it with a practiced hand enough that the defenses would not trigger. As his eyes swung back to the open television, he saw Naruto at the Academy, putting his hands together and trying out what the instructors called a jutsu.
When the boy began to draw on what he called chakra, a sudden glow emanating from the door had Adam turning his head back towards it.
His eyebrows raised past his implanted sunglasses as he saw a complex sigil begin to write itself on the door, and it was at that point where he knew that he had just become part of something larger than himself… again.
As he was so into the moment of understanding, he failed to see a small flash of yellow in the corner of his room.