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Outside Konohagakure, Death Site of the Yondaime Hokage and his wife

A death,

A blonde man's eyes close for the last time, going with the Shinigami to his final resting place after setting a responsibility on the shoulders of his young son that would change the world.

A birth,

A high-pitched squall ripped from a child's throat as he screamed, the whisker marks on his chubby cheeks a confirmation of the terrible burden placed upon him, and the blood that dripped down them a testament to the sacrifices paid. An elderly man, hair white with age, picked him up and carried him away from the crater that was his cradle, tears dripping down his own face at the death of the man and woman he considered like his own children.

In Another Reality,

An odd coincidence.

A young man's walk home is ended abruptly by a distracted adolescent last thoughts those of regret and burning anger at the world and himself.

A death, a birth, and an odd coincidence. The three culminate into a choice made by the One Who Writes the World, be it Kami or God, Allah or Yaweh, it matters not, and the ending is the same.

A new story is started in the land of the Elemental Nations, one without a clear ending or journey ahead of it. Its place is unclear, and just how it will change the flow of the other stories around it?

. . .

Well,

Isn't the whole point of a story to find out?

In A Soup of White Light and Weightlessness

'Huh, you'd think death would be more. . . I dunno, definite'

I was floating in this, space was the best word I guess, though who knows if it was accurate. For all that word ment after death, but being left alone led to thoughts how how I got here in the first place.

"Goddamnit! Rachel! I fuckin' told her that she'd run some poor schmuck's ass over one day. Didn't think it'd be my poor, schmuck ass..This is literally some Chekov bullshit."

The anger roared but just as quickly slipped away. I'd seen the poor girls face as she realized she wasn't going to be able to stop in time, the panic, the fear. She was such a sweet girl, I hoped she'd forgive herself for hitting me. I floated, still staring up into the white for awhile longer, just morosely considering if the school would have a memorial or not, if they'd place my picture in a nice little frame on my seat at graduation.

"Ahhhh, fuck it. I wonder if hell has job vacancies, I'm sure as hel-fuck, thats a little odd to say, now that it might actually be a place for me to go... not getting into heaven, that's one test I can't bullshit my way through."

I try to wade forward or backward, but it's useless. No resistance met my hands, I didn't feel any change in positioning. My center of gravity was giving me fuck all to work with. It was like sensory deprivation but instead of darkness it was pure light.

"Fuck it,Might as well be comfortable while I wait."

I relaxed my muscles and took what I assumed was a relaxing, reclining position, looking...up? God it's weird being without any tangible position. I looked in a direction into the white and sighed. I'd been speaking aloud to myself mostly to try to keep calm. I'd never liked being put into situations I'd had no control of and this...well, it was literally the ultimate lack of contol.

"I wonder if an angel guides your ass to hell of if a demon just pops up and is like, "Whelp, ready to get tortured for eternity?" I really need to figure out how shit works, maybe its reincarnation.

...

Oh, shit. I sure as hell don't want to be reincarnated into anything tasty, I DO NOT want to be raised for food. Have you seen what chickens have to go through? Though, maybe a cow in India?"

I jerk as footsteps slowly start to echo around me, light and far away but steadily growing louder and I see a black dot appear, the sound getting louder as the dot grew into a humanoid forform.

'Is that guy upside dow-Nope, not gonna question it. Afterlife shit, doesn't need no physics.'

It grows bigger till I can recognize that it's a person in black suit. A thin, nicely tailored and high quality suit and subtle, expensive leather shoes. Were those Oxfords?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand it has a black halo atop its head. As well as alabaster pale skin and literally stary voids for eyes.

'Shit. Fuck. Damn.'

"Sooooooooo, I'm assuming you're either The Devil, or a devil; here to pull my ass to hell. It's too bad, I was hoping for reincarnation, or maybe the Greek anthology to be real. I'm - I WAS a Pagan, so I was personally routing for a Valkyrie but I guess accidental deaths aren't gonna get you into Valhalla. For the reincarnation thing, incase that's still on the table, I always liked how dogs live, it'd be cool to just get to sleep and eat all day. Yeah, or maybe a snake, just lounging around and being silently enigmatic. What about you? Demon? Giant scaly dragon? Eldritch Abomination? Please don't eat me. I'm serious, I taste like bad decisions and regret and horseradish."

I rambled, the nervousness I had been trying to shove down starting to push at my mind now that it was crunch time. He...she...They stops in front of me, eyes level with mine even as he stood on nothing above me.

"No, but I always like honey badgers...would you like some help down from the ceiling, if that's alright with you?"

I suddenly felt the pull of gravity and fell to the 'floor', groaning at the impending impact.

"Oh, fuck m- SHIT!"

With a yelp, I slammed into the abruptly new checkered tile floor that appeared. Pushing myself up, I went to go about brushing myself off, before realizing; I didn't have a self.

'How the hell did I not realizing this sooner.'

I couldn't see my hands or feel my body, even though I could 'touch', I couldn't feel or see my own arms, though what I was 'touching' seemed to be about the same length as my normal arms.

"Okay, what the FUCK?"

I yell, windmilling my arms against each other without feeling the other hit, not sure I was even actually moving anything as there wasn't even the resistance of the air to feel.

"What the HELL?!"

I was actually starting to panic now, as theThey touched my shoulder and locked Their eyes with mine.

"Calm Down. Follow me, and you'll regain yourself momentarily, okay?"

'Well, He's- I mean She's, I mean…fuck it, this is getting ridiculous. The Presence? Nah, to wordy, uhhhhhhh...Blake! There, a good unisex name, so Blake is the only thing that's literally not me, the floor, or the blank expanse at the moment, so, might as well.'

"Okay."

And "Blake" walked forward as I followed, a single pair of footsteps echoing around us. We walked for what seemed like hours, but it could've been seconds with how much of a difference it made until another black dot appeared on the horizon. A big, old-fashioned black door, looking all the time like it belonged in an old Eastern European castle, or some ancient manor hidden in a German forest. Heavy and expensive, seemingly carved out of one piece of ebony wood, It stood, the contrast to the rest of the environment making it feel monolithic.

"Please," Blake opened the door and gestured me in,"Be our guest."

"Thank yo-u"

The words caught on their way out my mouth as I was suddenly reminded of a franchise who must not be named, looking at the Blake then at the door, before sighing and resolutely taking a pace forward.

If I hadn't done that, and just turned around, or waited a while longer or just ran away, I might never have seen or experienced so much. Of friendship and pain, of joy and grief, but now I'm getting ahead of myself.

Safe to say, I walked through the door and into what looked like the nice parlor of a fancy bar. Dark, but tastefully lit and a bartender with white hair and gentle, watery blue eyes came up to meet us.

"Welcome to Quindecium." He bows gracefully before guiding us to the bar.

'Why does that sound so damn familiar?'

"This is a nice place, kinda empty, but nice." I say, as I sidled up to the bar, looking over at Presence as it took the seat next to me; I hunched forward and catching the bartender's eye, motioned him over,

"Alcohol?"

"Any particular type?"

"The best ya got. A four Horsemen, mixed with Coke."

I say leaning back, sitting in silence as he went about pouring a shot from each of the bottles into the chilled glass, the pale amber liquors mixing into hazy waves before the coke mixed everything together.

"So,"

I began, sipping the mixed drink, grimacing as the burn of the liquid slid down my throat,

'Damn, This IS the good shit.'

"What's all this about? Because I'm too willful to be Heaven bound, and not 'good' enough to really warrant going to hell, and if this is purgatory then it's a lot more fun than I thought

Or if this is some other option I didn't study."

Blake takes its time, having waited as I looked around the bar before joining me and answering, snapping it's fingers as my drink replicated, picking it up and draining its cup and having the bartender refill it twice, before breaking out in a small smile.

"What if the whole world was just a collection of individual stories, all weaving in and out of one another until they formed one big story of life? Some adventures, some tragedies, some dramas or thrillers, or anthologies of everyday life. All interwoven into one big plot."

I considered it for a second.

"Well, who are the stories for? And who writes all these stories?"

The steady motion of knocking back another gulp of the drink and sighing was calming, steady.

"Funny, I've never considered that before… I don't know, I think I've forgotten. And the answer to the second bit is apparent. I am the writer of my own story, just as everyone is the writer of their own, but I guess my story is a bit different. You could consider me the Editor if you like, the one who guides the other writers, making changes here and there. We, yes, we, there are others, are every Deus Ex Machina, every Absolute bullshit stroke of luck, every R.O.B in every story line. We guide the pieces where we think they'd best serve their purpose."

"Well, Editor, that's cool and all, and I probably should be thinking on how this revelation changes my entire worldview now, but I'm still wondering what this has got to do with me. I wasn't a particularly talented writer in my life and in fact, I think I was rather shitty, so it can't be you're offering me a job or anything up here. What do you want?"

Editor finished slurping down it's fifth glass and set it down. By now it was slightly pink in the cheeks.

"I want you to have another go in a different genre, so to speak. Your story was good, but you didn't quite fit into the genre you were in. You always wanted to do things a little outside the boundaries, and your story suffered because of that."

"So, basically I'm getting reincarnated?"

"Pretty much!" It chirped, hiccupping slightly.

"You know, aside from being an entity capable of changing the lives of everything in this Existence, you're a pretty lightweight drinker."

"I don't drink much."

"I can see that." I replied flatly.

The bartender moved the glass away from Editor, and emptied it, keeping the bottle and cup in hand, looking with a tinge of worry on his stoic face as he absently refilled my drink. Editor snatched my empty cup and somehow, pulled the bottle from a hidden drawer. The bartender looked in his hand where a blinking outline of the bottle floated before disappearing. Presence pouring himself another two sloppy shots before giving the cup and bottle back to the bartender.

"So, where am I getting reincarnated?"

I asked, ignoring the blatant physics breaking happening in front of me.

"… Hum? ...What? Oh!...yeah, hold on."

Editor slurred, getting up, only to stumble as it walked two steps away from the bar and then tripped, falling on its ass, smiling and laughing.

'Jesus, it's more lightweight than my mother.'

I thought, shaking my head and remembering the thanksgiving in which the nine of my family members each drained a bottle and how my mom was so red-faced it looked like she had a fever. I helped them up and over to one of the comfortable looking couches around the peripherals of the bar, a chandelier like a jellyfish hanging above us.

"I was thinking since you enjoyed the Naruto Universe so much, why not land your ass there, and it'd be fun to see you basically time travel the shit out of that story line. Kind of like a story I like, we share an admiration for it actually. Yet Again With a Little Extra Help by The Third Fang. Right? Yeah, I'm so glad they aren't aware of my existence right now…Ghost is scary… anyway, anything you'd like to keep on your travels over, for sentimental value?"

"Well, ummm, I guess my glasses and the black wristband I have, and a tattoo, the one over ny heart?"

"Done!"

With a sloppily, sorta snap, the items morphed on me.

The glasses stayed the same, though my bracelet turned into a bracelet of polished black stones with sutra inscribed on them.

"We are not going to change the whole world, but we can change ourselves and feel free as birds. We can be serene even in the midst of calamities and, by our serenity, make others more tranquil. Serenity is contagious. If we smile at someone, he or she will smile back. And a smile costs nothing. We should plague everyone with joy. If we are to die in a minute, why not die happily, laughing?"

It was a rubber before, with a phrase from one of Buddha's sutras on it, so I guess this was its Naruto equivalent. And I could only guess that the tattoo had stayed the same. I stood as Editor stood up, still pink cheeked but now serious.

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

A sudden burst of light and the sound of fluttering pages surrounded me, my name floating up in front of me. The English word replaced by Kanji and I suddenly understood what they said:

"Kocho Yari, huh?"

'Butterfly Spear?'

I felt a rushing wind and a sudden pull of gravity on my stomach, like I was falling and then it was white.