Death is a sudden thing.

There are no flashing lights or slowed-down time for one to contemplate their life. One moment, you are awake, and the next, you are not.

Of course, there are various religions and beliefs, in which the soul either reaches its final destination or starts a new life. But those are beliefs, not proven facts. And to prove it, one must actually experience the journey after death.

On a chilly day with cloudy skies, in the backyard of a simple two-story house, a 3-year-old child was playing in the mud beside hanging clothes. The squatting child had just put a fistful of mud into his mouth when he suddenly froze. His brown eyes widened and his teeth clenched.

The mud fell out of his open mouth as a jumbled rush of memories began filling unknown gaps in the child's brain. The sudden clarity and disorientation were too much for his developing brain as the child plopped down onto the ground, frozen and stiff.

After some time, the rain started pouring down, soaking almost-dry clothes and the frozen child. A well-built woman suddenly appeared in the backyard out of nowhere and rushed to collect the soaked clothes from the clothing rack when she noticed the still child.

"Aww, how many times do I have to...Jinsuke! What are you...STOP EATING MUD AND GET INSIDE."

Hearing no response, the woman quickly bundled the wet clothes and grabbed the child, then went inside the house. She put the child on the tatami mat and went into another room to hang the clothes inside.

When she came back, Haruka noticed her son sitting silently. Her son, Jinsuke, was a strange one. She, as the mother of a five-year-old girl, expected a similar experience to the first one when she found out about her second pregnancy.

But Jinsuke, unlike his elder sister Naoko, was much less fussy. He cried less and quickly set into her and her husband's daily routine, which is a feat in and of itself considering both of their professions.

Jinsuke showed remarkable intelligence and learning speed in select areas. For a 3-year-old child, to not only learn to write but to actually master kanji was unbelievable for Haruka if she had not been the one who was responsible for teaching it to her son.

Her husband, Hideo, was over the moon when he found out that their son was a genius. Well, selective genius, to be exact, as Jinsuke's speech was as developed as any child his age.

Hideo further tested little Jin, and the results were curious. Jin showed recognition for some things when he should have no prior exposure to them; like when he showed fear and apprehension toward objects like toy kunai or toy shuriken. He was aware of what they represented.

More surprising were his questions when his speech developed. Haruka remembered a confused Naoko scratching her head and clarifying to her little brother that there was no Seventh Hokage.

Haruka snorted in amusement as she remembered the cute expression of her exasperated daughter. The little oddities of her son made him more endearing to her. In addition to the fact that he was born just a year after the war ended, Jinsuke's presence brought comfort to their home.

No longer would she have to wonder whether she or Hideo would return from the frontlines or not. With every departure, the chances increased that one of them, would fail to return home alive. Their daughter Naoko would have to live her life without one of them, or worse, both.

And as the war progressed without any sign of stopping, a new fear emerged: that Naoko would have to join the war. She and Hideo both knew the cruel and unfair reality of war. Their parents and teachers had drilled it into their heads. Haruka prayed and hoped that her children would never see war.

Her prayers were answered. The Great War ended. She and Hideo returned home safely. The family she always wanted was together again, and a new member was welcomed at the end of the same year. All Haruka wanted was to accompany Hideo and raise their two children well.

A sudden sound grabbed her attention as Jinsuke stirred, awoke from his frozen stupor, and stood up. He waddled to his mother.

"Mum, I nee wader, mud taste bad".

Haruka took her son to the washbasin and helped him wash his face and mouth clean. She then controlled her expression into a stern visage,

"And what made you think it was a good idea to eat it?"

Jinsuke's expression twisted as he came to terms with the fact that yes, he is not having a dream, and he spent more than three years feeling like he had inception bombs on a hourly basis. After a few moments of silent contemplation, he climbed up his tool and came face-to-face with the mirror.

Her son's downcast expression made her eyes soften.

"Alright, you will have mochi, but on one condition. For now on, no eating mud, okay?"

"Kay, mum."

"Then let's clean up and wait for the rain to stop. We will get mochi tonight."

Haruka smiled as she saw Jin's face brighten up. Jinsuke sped down the hallway to the washroom to clean up as fast as he could. Haruka watched her son go as she began her housework.

What she did not notice was Jinsuke's change of expression when he entered the washroom.

Jinsuke's expression twisted as he came to terms with the fact that yes, he is not having a dream, and he spent more than three years feeling like he had inception bombs on an hourly basis. After a few moments of silent contemplation, he climbed up his tool and came face-to-face with the mirror.

Black hair, dark brown eyes, and a cute baby face. Jinsuke stared at the image of the child. Surprisingly, he did not feel any discomfort. He expected body dismorphia, or at least derealization. Yet all he felt was acceptance and relief.

Jinsuke reached for the mirror, and his finger seemingly touched the reflection's. He gathered his thoughts as slowly certainity flashed in his eyes. Slow and deliberate, the child uttered his first fully coherent sentence,

"I am Jinsuke Masayoshi, and I have been Isekaid."


Author Notes: Hello, welcome to my new fic. This is a result of a few ideas I had while reading some fics here. I hope that you will like it.

I am not a native English speaker. So, there will be mistakes in grammar and composition. I aim to improve as I write. So, any help is appreciated.

I plan to finish this fic. So, yes, it will have an end.

There is no current update schedule. I will post new chapters steadily.

Rate, review, follow, and favorite. Spread the word.

Thanks in advance.