I Sold My Soul to Konoha

When In Rome…

One – "Do What The Romans Do… Only Better."

West Konoha Playground, August 5, 10 AM

I was now six years old. Six years old was an important time for an orphan in the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Six years is when every child, boy or girl, decides if they wish to go to the Shinobi Academy. For orphans it was even more important. If they chose not to go the ninja way, then they were deported to a sister city elsewhere in the Land of Fire where they would be put to work.

As for me, I had no desire to become what amounts to slave labor. So I decided to become a shinobi. But what kind of Shinobi? That was the question that was plaguing me after I'd submitted my application to the academy.

It was pondering this question that brought me to the receptive audience of five birds, two squirrels, and a stray dog one day at the public play ground. It was one week before classes started and I'd come here in the morning, set on working my problems out once and for all. Going into any profession with a confused heart is a bad idea, after all.

"I would like to thank you for coming here today," I said, nodding my head at the dog and birds. "It may seem like such a small problem, but it's not. After all, it's a decision with lifelong consequences. And that's if my life will have a length worth mentioning."

The dog tilted its head to the side, as if willing me to elaborate. I huffed indignantly. Didn't these guys come here already understanding my problem? With great patience, I relented to the dog's vigorous and loud demands…

"Being a ninja is like signing up for the shorted life span possible," I explained. "Really, you should know all of this already. Ninja always end up in the dangerous place of the world and, more often than not, are the ones making it dangerous in the first place. It's insane!"

A couple of the birds tweeted loudly. "Yes!" Nodded and grinned at the birds, gesturing to them while I began pacing back and forth in front of my attentive audience. "That's exactly it! If I become a ninja, I can't complain about a short life span. That's not why one becomes a ninja! They become a ninja because…" I paused and tapped a finger on my chin. "Some do it because they want to protect what's precious to them. Others because it was required by their family, or tradition. Still, more become ninja because they think it's cool or awesome. Many do it to survive. Because as we all know, this world sucks big, hairy donkey balls!"

It's at that point that I noticed the two chattering squirrels. They were very animated in making their point. Eventually, the two rodents devolved into what amounted to a fist fight. I shook my head sadly as I watched the brawl devolve into chaos.

"And see, I can understand both of your points of view. Shinobi these days don't exactly help make the world a better place. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, ninja are the reason and cause for the chaos that everyone here has noted. However, as shinobi are the only ones who have the power to change that, it's up to them to become the change that we all wish to see. Hence, my moral reason for choosing to become a ninja. Going off to some gold mine in southern Fire won't change my life or anyone else's."

I started pacing again. "So now that I've explained, once again, my reasoning for choosing the path of the ninja, I'd like to bring up the reason I'm here today." I paused and crossed my arms while I gave a good long look at my audience to gauge their attentiveness. The dog was still staring at me. In fact, he was drooling a little bit. I figured he might just be that excited about what I'm talking about. The birds, on the other hand, weren't paying attention and one of them took a crap on the swing seat. I gave the offending bird a flat stare until it flew off sheepishly.

"I know being a ninja is hard, and I know why it's hard. My problem… my dilemma, is that I need to choose what kind of ninja I should aim toward becoming," I explained. I waved my arms around to emphasize my point. "Front-line fighter? Support? Intelligence? Leadership, perhaps?" I lifted a finger each time I counted off a career path. "I could even go into some kind of jack of all trades kind of deal where I study all the paths of a ninja, but never manage to master any of them. And beyond which vocation I choose, where do I focus my personal abilities? Taijutsu? Genjutsu? Ninjutsu? Fuinjutsu? Hell, I'd even consider becoming a Weapons Master if push came to shove."

The dog suddenly barked, before running off toward the bushes that lined the edge of the playground. I sniffed derisively. "Well, if that's how you feel, fine! Leave! I don't need your advice, bitch!"

Turning back to the rest of my captive audience, I was pleased to see that they were paying attention to me still. "I guess some people just can't handle criticism. Where was I… Oh, yes, my vocation." I paused as I re-grouped my thoughts. "Maybe it's fine if I just forgo choosing such details until after I've had the basic education. But I know that if I want to be a fantastic ninja, then I have to start pushing myself in my chosen field from day one. What to do? What to do?!"

The squirrels chattered at me once more. I nodded. "Yes… Yes. That could work. But… do I really wish to outstrip all of my peers like that? I mean, it really wouldn't be very fair to them if I did that, now would it?"

The birds tweeted and the squirrels ran off. They had a previous engagement, anyway. Then the birds flew off as well and I was left alone. "Ugh…" I groaned into my hands. "Maybe they're right, and I'm just over thinking it." I flopped down onto the grass and looked up at the sky. I watched the clouds roll by for a while as I let my dilemma roll around in my head.

People think I'm crazy. They see me talking to myself all the time and think I'm 'special'. Truth is, when you spend six years of your adult life reliving your infant years, you're probably not going to be a well adjusted kid the second time around. On top of that, once I was capable of exploring beyond the four walls of the orphanage, I found out exactly where I was filming My Life: Reloaded.

I was born into a village full of ninja that followed the Will of Fire. A place where people can defy gravity and run up walls and stick to ceilings, defy physics and walk on water, and defy nature by controlling the natural elements of the world itself, even space-time. People here could make you see illusions so terrifying your own heart stops to end the suffering, invade your mind, and brainwash you into believing your friends are your enemies and vice versa. There are warriors here with strength so monstrous they can literally punch out Cthulhu and come back to ask for another round. Might Guy, I'm looking at you.

And people call me crazy.

"Let us deliberate," I said. By this point the sky had turned into a burnt orange-pink. The cloud that had been white appeared to be on fire. "I do not wish to be anything less than the absolute best. After all, if I'm going to shoot for strength that can rival gods, then I must have a learning curve that's more like a vertical line than a curve. But how do I accomplish that without leaving all of my peers at the wayside? Being a supreme being of all encompassing power would be pretty boring with only me, myself, and I."

It was at this time, right as the sun had vanished below the horizon, that the answer appeared before me. Quite literally. It was an ANBU agent that had paused in the tree that I was resting under. I was immediately enraptured by his, and it was most certainly a man, sleek outfit and dashing cow mask. Honestly, a more interesting outfit and posture of tension I'd never seen before in my life. Hell, the man was just short enough to be considered a teenager.

And just as fast as the ANBU had arrived, so he departed. The agent left a falling cloud of leaves that fell all around me. I watched as the shards of green fell in the dying evening light with the astute observational abilities that could best be likened to the attributes of a small mammalian type creature. Perhaps a skunk.

"That's it!" I shouted. I jumped to my feet and started walking in a circle. "Yes, that's perfect! That would totally work out! Hell, if I'm diligent about it, I could get the whole damn class year in on it. Hmm, best get working right away!"

7's Apartment, 8:30 PM

Right after I got slammed my door shut, I ran to my bedroom and began digging through my journals. I hadn't been sitting on my thumbs every day since I'd left the orphanage. I'd spent the last year and a half cataloguing everything I could remember about my old world. I'd also written down everything I could recall about this world.

I was not a pretty sight when I emerged from my apartment after three months. That said, while I was a hot mess for sure, I was totally finished with all of my journals. After that, I spent a week doing nothing and being utterly lazy. It was awesome. And I totally didn't have to worry about the ninja sneaking into my apartment later on because there was no way in hell they could crack my code. Not unless they've got someone that can read English. Backwards. Upside down. With a code cipher that only I knew.

This evening, a week before attending my second foray into a school system, I was digging through my journals for a specific target. In this case, it was my notes on experimental sealing ideas. It struck me one evening, months after I'd written all my knowledge down, that if Japanese Kanji could be used in sealing here, then surely other languages could be as well. This would surely be true, provided that the user understood the language in question.

I was a fluent English speaker in a previous life. I wanted to know if I could create a seal using the English language. So, I performed an experiment. I sat down, in the park, at night, and wrote out what I thought to be a perfectly legit chakra storage seal. After all, if the most basic function of a seal is to store and release chakra in a specific manner, then the simple storage of chakra itself should be the most basic of seals.

I wrote 'Chakra Storage Tank' in the middle of a small slip of paper. Then around that, I wrote in a circle, 'Store all chakra charged into paper within the tank.'

The voice in my head laughed his ass off when the seal exploded. Violently. Fortunately, I only suffered minor wounds from burns, lacerations, and blunt force trauma. The blood dripping from my nose and ears looked badass. I believe it was because of this experiment that the ninja started to go through the things in my home. Not that they learned anything. Hehehe. Losers.

In any case, after the explosive failure at basic sealing, I realized that I hadn't failed completely. I decided that I had proven the ability to seal chakra using English. After going over what I'd written several times, I figured out why it exploded. It was my specific word usage. I'd created the storage space correctly, but it was the instructions I'd put around the tank that cause it to explode. Apparently, the chakra in the ink didn't know the difference between natural energy and chakra, and as such, started absorbing the natural energy out of the environment and stuffing it into the storage tank. The natural volatility of natural energy didn't interact 'calmly' with the chakra that had been absorbed out of the paper, which caused an explosion.

I learned a valuable lesson that day. It's one I really should have known, cause of what I recalled from my last life. Honestly, the voices in my head wouldn't stop laughing at me for a good long while once I recalled the lesson.

Don't. Fuck. With. Nature.

Especially on this world where nature can and will reach out and eat you. Probably in some gruesome manner that more genteel people would find utterly revolting. Like through my left nostril. Just… gross. Hell, the greatest example of nature's fury on this planet is a ten-tailed demon. If that kind of wrath doesn't get it across that nature doesn't like being screwed with, then one deserves the left nostril gruesome death.

"Found it!" I shouted. I pulled the notebook from under a pile of dirty laundry and held it high above my head. A small insect flew off from the inside of the pages of the book. "Item get!"

I jumped onto my bed, ignoring the protest of the wooden frame against the abuse. It was such a pussy bed frame, always complaining about its bad back and unruly kids. It kept asking why my mother hadn't taught me any better manners and I kept replying that my mother would rather turn the bed frame into chop sticks.

With great zeal, I flipped through the pages of my sealing journal. This I'd written in plain English, with no cipher. I wasn't really concerned with anyone figuring out what I'd learned by myself about sealing. I skipped over chapter one, "An Introduction To Sealing In English", and moved onto chapter five, "Sealing For The Advancement Of Ninja".

"Whoever named these chapters was a complete moron," I muttered to myself. I skimmed through the text I found in front of myself and ended up in the section about physical enhancement seals. "Perfect," I said with a dirt eating grin. "Resistance seals. Better apply it now. Mwahahahahaha."

Hidden Leaf Shinobi Academy, August 11, 9:00 AM

The first time I saw the academy, my initial thoughts were, 'The hell they teach here?' The place looked like some kind of rundown factory with very tiny windows. One of the voices in my head followed up by asking the ever pertinent, 'The hell do I care, I ain't learning shit.', but I chose to ignore that bit of advice. Sometimes I wonder where my voices learned their social skills.

All of the incoming students were gathered into a large group in front of the main entrance. The doors, made of red wood, were closed tightly. Several chunin ran around as they attempted to corral the kids in front of the academy. At the back of the crowd, by the entrance to the academy yard, were the crowds of parents that had brought their little kids to their first day of homicide school.

In review of this situation, I once again found myself asking why I was considered the crazy one here. One of the voices responded with 'cause you suck', while another helpfully supplied, 'purple'. In careful review of the responses I'm getting, I can conclude with certainty that the voices in my head are complete assholes. Their responses make it easier to accept that others would classify me as insane. 'Accepting it… doesn't mean I… agree,' was helpfully pointed out to me by a voice. It was true enough.

"Alright, everyone! Listen up!" shouted one of the Chunin by the doors. His voice was loud, but not overbearing, and it carried well over the crowd of rambunctious children who were generally squealing in their high pitched voices. I assumed the ninja accomplished this by using chakra. Filthy ninja magic.

"Everyone! Listen!" the Chunin cried out again. By this point, the restless crowd of preteen killer wannabe's had quieted down and were paying attention to the line of men and women standing at the front of the crowd. "Each of you have been assigned to a specific classroom. One of these men or women who stand here today will be your sensei from now until you graduate. You will find out who among these seventeen will be your sensei once you get to your classroom. You should have received a scroll upon confirmation that you were accepted to the academy. That scroll will have your room assignment and you will proceed to that room when we open the doors in just a moment." The Chunin paused as a wave of excited chattering overtook the crowd of 500 or so six year olds. "Hey!" the man shouted. "Listen up, or we'll be here all day!" The crowd quieted down. "First, some ground rules. One: There will be no running, pushing, or fighting of any kind in the halls. Two: Don't be afraid to ask for directions if you get lost, because this building is pretty big. And finally, three: Don't be late. A Konoha shinobi is never, ever late."

After that, the large red wooden doors opened. The seventeen teachers that had been lined up in front of us vanished in swirling clouds of leaves. Body Flicker… filthy ninja magic.

I had initially wondered where all these kids came from, but as I passed through the crowd I learned something interesting. Many of the kids here were from outside of Konoha. It seems that the shinobi who hail from the Hidden Leaf were drawn from the whole of the Land of Fire. This was interesting. I always assumed it was only Konoha natives that became ninja.

But it made sense, after some thought. Even the voices agreed. There was no way a single village could field over twenty thousand ninja by itself. Each of the larger clans, of which there were less than ten, only produced up to three hundred active ninja at any one time. The greater bulk of shinobi forces had to come from somewhere.

My assigned teacher was, to my great and utter gut wrenching disappointment, not Umino Iruka. I knew this because I passed by room 102, inside of which Iruka stood. I was so broken up about it that one of the voices in my head wrote a haiku about it, only to set it on imaginary fire and wail like a sad little child lost in the woods. Outwardly, I ignored that voice and made my way to room 118.

The room I ended up in look much the same as I remembered from my last life. A set of bench desks arranged into tiers that ascended toward the back wall of the room. This gave each student a perfectly clear view of the front where the teacher would stand, speak and write on the chalkboard at the front of the class. Honestly, it was rather dull looking for a supposed ninja school.

I took a seat near the very back. I did this because as long as I had a view of everyone else in the room, I'd be more or less safe from any unwanted attention. Once I'd situated myself at the desk, I finally looked up at the board and saw… kanji.

One of the voices in my head said something that sounded suspiciously like 'but it's in Japanese!'. I felt like swearing myself, actually. It's true I had to learn how to read and write the native language on my own. It was made all the more difficult because I was a native English speaker. Nevertheless, over year five of my second life, I learned the basics of Japanese.

'Still,' whined the voice, 'kanji… it's evil.'

I could only nod in agreement.

"Hey! You!" I turned to inspect the nimrod who had addressed me. Perhaps it wasn't fair to automatically label someone as a nimrod. But the tone of voice and attitude of just those two words set my initial impression of the speaker in stone. When I saw who it was, I was happy to find that my instincts were correct.

The brown haired, beady-eyed boy was tall for a 6 year old. He was also rather stocky. He was round in the face and abdomen, a byproduct of being overweight. In combination with the rather pricy looking deep blue and green clothes this clown wore, I concluded that this nimrod was the son of a wealthy merchant. In conjunction with that, he was spoiled by said wealthy merchant with a lot of food and probably toys. As an addendum to that assessment, the way that the kid was pointing at me with one chubby finger and attempting to glare made it clear that he was used to getting his way, whether the other party wished to comply or not. In other words, I'd been singled out by the new class bully.

'This is the last time we sit in the… back,' the voice said.

"What do you want, you fat-ass piece of shit?" I asked in perfect English. Being bilingual in a world that has only one language is so awesome. Cursing takes on a whole new meaning when the target has to try and figure out what you just said. Then they have to decide whether they were insulted or not.

Chubby merchant son flapped his lips open and closed as his brain shut down and rebooted several times. I smiled at him and turned to face forward again. By now the room had filled almost to capacity with kids. A lot of them were talking with each other, excited about this or that. It was clear that all of them were dreaming of being something awesome, and finding that something here, at the academy.

And then just as soon as I'd settled back down in my chair, a fat, chubby hand grabbed the front of my shirt and hauled me up. I was brought face to face with the Fatty McChubChub Merchant's Son. I think he was trying to intimidate me by spreading his fat lips and baring his teeth at me while staring at me with narrowed eyes.

'That is the most butt-ugly face in the universe,' said one voice.

'It is certainly a face only a mother could love,' responded another.

'I want to push crayons up his nose and see if he squirts blood from his ears… like a fountain! Weeeee!' I blinked as I erased that last voice's input from my mind. Honestly, it's like they've never been taught how to act in civilized society.

"I don't know what the heck you just said, weirdo," the boy said. "But whatever it was, it sounded like something bad! And my papa said, if anyone ever said anything bad to me, I was to punch them really hard and then take all their money, just like we do to bandits."

I blinked as the boy tightened his fist a little on my shirt, making the material cry out in protest. I see, so he interpreted what I'd said correctly. It wasn't really a setback. The really stupid ones usually did the same. This boy's conclusion didn't say anything good about his mental capacities. Neither did the blank, stupid look in his poorly glaring piggy-eyes.

"I called you a stupid fat fuck who should go rot in a ditch while I defecate on your corpse," I said, once again in English. Then I switched to Japanese and said, "In other words, hello."

Fat boy blinked, loosened me a little, and then pulled me up to his face to glare at me again. "I… I don't know what you just said…. But it wasn't hello. You retard! Speaking in gibberish is what babies do! You must be even stupider if you can't speak right!"

At that, the whole class erupted into laughter. This brought my and the fat bully's attention to the kids that we shared a room with. They were all staring at us, and now they were all laughing. Probably at me, all things considered. Also, the teacher had yet to arrive.

"What did you want Fat Ass?" I asked, mixing languages.

The boy growled and jerked me back and forward. I think I got a little whiplash, but it didn't hurt that much. "I don't know what faaat assss means, but I don't like it. I'm gonna beat the crap out of you. And from now on, don't ever sit in this seat! It's mine, got it! Also, give me all your lunch money. Stupid retard like you don't need money like I do. I'm a refined person with refined tastes."

'Smoke this asshole!' one of the voices shouted.

'I agree. Kick him!' another added.

'Eat the little human. Roast him and toast him and make the most of him.'

I felt the other voices in my head shudder at that last one. Then I felt the collection of voices in my head turn to the one that had spoken last and proceed to beat it to within an inch of its life…. Or my life… whatever. In the end, I agreed with the ass-kicking idea.

I reached up and calmly pushed two fingers into the boy's eyes. The fat kid screamed and let go of me as he reached both hands up to his face and covered his eyes. Really, poking someone in the eyes is a sure way to get them to cover their face up, and blocking their vision. Thus I executed my second attack, which was a swift and brutal kick between his legs.

"I am sorry, but I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request," I said as the boy clutched his 'refined' family jewels. "As I am not in the mood to deal with you at this time. Please leave and see my secretary to schedule your next appointment. Thanks for coming. Bye-bye." I watched as he fell on his back and then rolled down the steps to the bottom of the room.

The boy landed in a heap at the same time as I sat down, looking like nothing had happened. The entire class was silent now, as they watched the twitching form of the fat kid who'd tried to bully me and take my seat. I watched a few of them glance up at me. I smiled and waved back, but they immediately turned away and started whispering to the person sitting next to them.

And that's when the door opened to let in the teacher. She was a tall woman with reddish-brown hair that was cut in a short bob. Dressed in the same manner as all of the other chunin teachers, it was really only by the expression on her face that I could tell she was rather pissed off about something. The way she curled her lip, squinted her dark brown eyes, and scrunched her finely sculpted nose upward all indicated great annoyance. No doubt she'd be even more annoyed with the pile of fat merchant son lying in a heap on the floor.

"What exactly is going on?" our new teacher asked. Her voice was surprisingly soft for someone who looked as pissed off as she did. Then again, perhaps that was some kind of warning to those who knew what pissed off women looked and sounded like. The woman looked up from the groaning kid on the floor and scanned the room. "I asked what was going on! I expect an answer! Now!"

Everyone, even the fat kid on the floor, turned and pointed at me. Despite the feelings of betrayal I was experiencing, a part of me was pleased as punch that the fat kid was whimpering with his head braced on the floor while he clutched his family 'jewels'.

"I saw the one who did it!" I exclaim. Everyone in the class stares at me as if I'd grown another head, but I continue on regardless. "It was another kid, yeah? He was about my height, four foot five maybe. Brown hair, real mess it was. His grey eyes had this wild look in them, like he'd been awake for days without anything to eat! And he was nuts! He kept mumbling to himself and talking to people who weren't even there! After he did that," I pointed down at fatso, "he laughed like a maniac and ran off into the hallway!" Two of the nice voices in my head were laughing when they realized I'd just described myself. I ignored the voice that was crying about how I butchered the execution, since he was a downright dirty critic.

The kunoichi stared at me, along with all the class, before she swept her hand up to her face and moaned into her palm. "There's always one," she moaned. "You," she pointed at me, "stay after class, detention. The rest of you, get in your seats."

Thus began my foray into the educational system of Konoha. I grinned as I took back my seat. Things were looking up!

A/N: So, I had never heard of Deadpool when I wrote this way back in… several years ago. The inspiration for this came from Eminem's Monster and because I just wanted to write a honest to God crazy kid in to see what would happen. In a world filled with the terminally insane (Obito/Madara/several kage/many others/Might Guy) what would someone like this do to the plot?! Well, this was just the beginning, I had him befriending Naruto cause he's obviously nuts, and only someone nuts would do that. And then the two of them would sweep up the entire academy in their own brands of insanity… not sure where I would have gone with it long term though.

Thanks for reading.

~I.K.A. Valian