WARNING! This story may contain elements that may seem disturbing to some people and/or groups of people.
Author's note: Greetings, readers. I must admit that this is not my first fanfiction, but my first attempt to translate and publish my work in English. Therefore, I must immediately apologize for grammatical and other errors in the text, in particular, some jokes, aphorisms and proverbs that I use in the text, I will try to adapt or find analogues in English. At the moment, I have a translation of the first three chapters (not counting the prologue), and I hope for your activity. The simplest comment will make me write harder. Well... Enjoy or swear, even an angry comment will be helpful.
"Mma..." A Man stood on one of the roofs of the Village Hidden in the Leaves.
The Man was of medium height, with black hair and brown eyes. A rather unremarkable appearance for a resident of the Land of Fire.
The Man was a Shinobi. This was indicated not only by the forehead protector, but also by the rest of the clothes. A dark olive vest that acts as body armor, a dark blue long-sleeve T-shirt underneath, matching pants and shoes, and black fingerless gloves. The man's whole appearance was... ordinary. In a remote village far from the trade routes, the appearance of a man would have aroused local interest, but in Konoha the man did not stand out. The man had no scars, no famous weapons, no eye-catching hairstyle or clothing items. The residents of the Hidden Village saw people like him on a daily basis. Even the man's face was as ordinary as possible. Not too beautiful or ugly, not fat or thin, not young or old. Just the ordinary. If you run into someone like him on the street, you'll forget him in five minutes.
The man was smoking. The nicotine stick in his finger was coming to an end, clouds of bluish, bitter smoke dispersed into the daytime air, swirled and rose up, disappearing without a man watched the smoke dance in the air, squinting slightly from the midday sun.
A second later, he was no longer alone on the roof.
The blurred figure landed on the concrete, straightened up, taking on the shape of a man. This Shinobi was different. Although it was difficult to say anything specific about his face, Hatake Kakashi's appearance was memorable.
The Copy Ninja, without looking at the Man, straightened up, took a battered-looking book out of his pouch, opened it to a seemingly random page and plunged into reading, leaning back against the water tank.
"Yo, Kakashi-kun," the Man smiled. His smile was also unremarkable. The ordinary one.
The only visible eye of the Fourth Hokage's student looked up from the page of the book for a moment, looked at the Man with an attentive but relaxed gaze.
"Yo," came the reply.
They fell silent.
The Man's cigarette was completely extinguished. The cigarette butt went into a crumpled white and red pack, which somehow ended up in the Man's hands. Twirling the makeshift ashtray between his fingers, the brunette put it in one of the compartments of his vest. However, the twin sister of the first pack, already full, immediately appeared in the light.
The Man clenched a new cigarette between his teeth, quickly, habitually put the pack in his pants pocket. He squeezed the tip of the nicotine soldier with his fingers. It flared up for a second, and a moment later it was filling the Man's lungs with bittersweet, suffocatingly poisonous smoke.
They were silent. It wasn't the awkward silence of two strangers who happened to be next to each other, the comfortable silence of lovers or the silence that sometimes occurs even in the conversation of best friends, no.
It was the ordinary silence.
The Man watched the play of smoke in the air, which seemed in no way dependent on the gentle touches of the wind blowing on the roof. However, it could only be an accident.
"They gave us a problem, didn't they?" asks the Man, gently leaning back against the water tank.
A particularly strong gust of wind blew on the roof and blew another cloud of tobacco towards Hatake. Jounin didn't flinch, just waved his hand, pushing the bitter smoke away from himself.
"Yeah," he replied.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" the Man laughed softly, removing his hand with a cigarette away from the interlocutor.
More silence. Again, strange figures dancing in the air.
"It was so long ago..." Man smiled. The gaze of dark, almost black eyes lifted up to where Hokage Mountain towered in the distance."Yes..." the look of the Copy Ninja for a moment, just for a split second, but rose up, frozen on the monument of the Fourth.
"Aren't we late?" the Man turned to his interlocutor, looked him up and down. There was laughter in the Man's brown, warm brown eyes. "Oh... Well, yes, yes. Help an old lady cross the road is a serious matter, I understand."
The only response to the Man was silence and turning over the next page.
"Well, unfortunately, I have no such excuses," the man put another cigarette butt in his "ashtray", smiled and lightly, in a friendly way, slapped Hatake on the shoulder. "Good luck, Kakashi-kun!"
In the next second, Kakashi was left alone on the roof. Only the swirling green leaves and small twigs in the place where the Man's feet were indicated that a Shinobi had recently been here.
"Mma..." Copy Ninja put the book in his pouch, took one last look at the Monument, sighed heavily and disappeared, just like his interlocutor.
Genins... Genins aren't going anywhere. They'll wait. He needed to visit his friends.
One of the roofs of Village Hidden in the Leaves was empty...
Do you know what I've never understood?
Reincarnators and fanfiction characters who end up in their favorite fendoms.
No, the idea itself was close and understandable to me.
What teenager wouldn't want to read about the adventures of a faceless but cool compatriot in his favorite fandom, whose image is so easy for the reader to try on himself? And most of the works are designed for this, one way or another.
Remembering the canon to the last line, an incredibly talented, charming, brave and intelligent hero who learns the most complex techniques and techniques in a few weeks. With one phrase, he puts "stupid adults" in their place, casually ruins the villainous plans that "Dumbledores", "Hiruzens", "Orochimars" and other "villains" have been creating for decades, wins the heart of a young princess/hime/queen with one "accidental but sincerely noble" act, appropriates incredible Artifacts for himself whose location does he know from where? That's right, from the same canon that he remembers to the last line.
Or vice versa. A gloomy, but, again, cool "anti-hero" who easily puts all sorts of "naive fools" and followers of the "Bright Side" in a "knee-elbow" position. However, he usually does this with minor characters, who also infuriated most fans in the original story. The "anti-hero" does not refuse everything else, like the true love of a bunch of pretty girls, the appropriation of artifacts and other things.
I could understand all that.
Sometimes I himself had a desire to take the place of the Main Character and punch particularly arrogant enemies and equally arrogant "friends" in the face, just not to suffer another dose of Spanish shame, watching the adventures of a Clockwork Orange, a schoolboy with a Kitchen Cleaver, a Boy Who Won't Die, and that young, hundred-year-old terrorist with with an arrow on his head.
It was all understandable...
But here's another thing...
In the stories that caught my eye, reincarnators, more often than not, whined. "Oh no, I don't want to be a temporary shinigami," "oh no, I don't want to be an evil old man with power over thousands of planets," "oh no, I don't want to be an orange loser with atomic bomb potential and model looks."
Even entities, often of Divine power, whined that they were not in a hentai harem, although, in fact, they organized their own personal branch of the harem with MS of varying degrees of promiscuity. Ordinary people who had family, relatives, friends, and even a pet "there", and who strictly decided to return home, gave up on it after a couple of chapters, plunging into their new lives with a joyful squeal.
Even typical "loser in a vacuum" suspiciously quickly accepted that instead of the Internet he had dusty scrolls, instead of a TV he had inept bards, instead of four-layer toilet paper and a soft toilet seat there was a burdock leaf with ants and a forest full of man-eating wolves. Of course, all these inconveniences were compensated by the "flags" and the abundance of beauties who were ready to follow the hero at the call of their hearts, but...
I didn't understand that.
"Huh? Naruto? What are you doing here?.."
Did you know that Konoha has electricity?
Of course you do. And I knew it too.
Sockets, incandescent lamps, and televisions are quite familiar in appearance... However, the latter seem to be straight from the 90s, as well as most household electrical appliances.
But answer me one question. Where all of it came from?I don't remember any factories in this world of Headband and Kunai. No, maybe I just don't remember, and in one of the hundreds of fillers, "the television factory named after H. Senju" and was present. And there seem to be some almost modern-looking skyscrapers in the back of my mind.
But it's not just about TVs.
Konoha had street lighting, water supply system, milk in bags, refrigerators, television and radio broadcasting, and the usual "white thrones" in the bathrooms...
There was even that damn four-layer toilet paper!
But even such a seemingly simple thing as a light bulb is the result of hundreds of man-hours of labor! Where is the glass blown for them? Where is it produced? Even finding ore and smelting a tungsten filament is not such a simple task.
Where are these hundreds, thousands of people engaged in the production of consumer goods? Where are the factories?
Where, after all, are the Konoha thermal power plant and its power lines, which simply have to be?
I don't understand...
"I won!"
"Dream on, BigHead!"
"What did you say, Pork?.."
Did you know that there is a railway in the Land of Snow?
Of course you do.
They also seem to have something resembling machine guns. However, with kunai instead of bullets, so probably there is no gunpowder there...
And for locals, such vehicles and weapons are something wild.
But at the same time, the box in which the little man sits and tells the news is not.
And after all, the distribution of technology is completely wild!
I asked mom, and she calmly informed me that the peasants mainly use wooden tools. The well-to-do can afford hoes and shovels studded with shitty iron, and knives passed down from generation to generation are commonplace, since an ordinary farmer cannot afford to buy a new one. At the same time, Shinobi literally scatter this iron in bundles, and food is cooked on electric stoves. But at the same time, all these piercing and cutting things are forged manually...
There's probably an oil-fired power plant in Suna...
I don't understand...
"Hey, Naruto-baka! Don't bother Sasuke-kun!"
Do you know Oigawa Tobio?
Huh, of course you don't know. But if I do that?
"Forgive me, Kami-sama..." I muttered softly to myself and stretched, yawning sweetly and stretching my shoulders.
As expected, my elbow bumped into something soft, and the inarticulate but annoying noise from the group of the "last Uchiha" fan club stopped. In fact, all auditorium became suspiciously quiet.
"Oh, Im sor..." I began, turning back. Here it was necessary to pretend to be squeamishness. I didn't have to pretend, either... "-ry..."
The next second, I turned away, covering my face with my hands.
Gods, for what?
Murderous Intent flared up from the aisle between the desks, and there were sounds of blows and painful screams from one mustachioed Jinchuriki. I could only moan softly, clenching my teeth.
Let me introduce myself.
I am Oigawa Tobio, the reincarnator.
The character whose place I took appeared in the story of a Clockwork Orange only is the one who elbowed Naruto in the ass, forcing Naruto and Sasuke to kiss on the day of the announcement of the Genin teams.
I don't understand...