In a secluded clearing, surrounded by towering trees, a narrow stream wound silently through the earth.
On the ground lay a small, frail boy. His knees were scraped raw, bruises marred his arms and legs, and his clothes were torn and caked with mud. Around him stood three boys—only a little older, but far stronger—their eyes sharp with disdain.
"I'll become the Hokage," the boy rasped, his cracked lips trembling as tears welled in his eyes. "Even if you beat me, I'll still become Hokage!"
The tallest of the group sneered. The bold declaration stoked his temper, and without hesitation he drove his foot into the boy's stomach.
"AAH—!" The frail boy cried out, curling in on himself, clutching at the pain as he rolled across the dirt. His shallow breaths came ragged, streaks of mud and tears smeared across his cheeks.
"You untalented fool," the tall boy spat, looming over him. "You'll never be Hokage. You can't even perform our clan's Fireball Jutsu. You don't deserve the crest you wear." With a cruel smirk, he ripped the fan symbol from the boy's jacket.
"N-No! Give it back!" The boy tried to stand, but his legs buckled beneath him. Still, he clung desperately to the older boy's leg, his blotched face wet with tears and snot.
"Get off him, you filthy brat!" another snarled. His foot lashed forward, striking the boy across the forehead.
The impact cracked through the clearing. Blood trickled down the boy's brow as his grip slackened. His small hands slipped from the taller boy's leg, and he collapsed to the ground, limp and unmoving.
The tall boy's smirk vanished. His chest tightened, dread flooding his heart. He dropped to his knees, shaking the smaller boy's shoulders.
"Hey—hey, wake up! Come on, get up!" His voice wavered, rising in panic. He turned to the boy who had struck him. "Kenji! Why did you do that?!"
But Kenji stood frozen, pale as ash, eyes locked on the motionless body.
"L-Let's run," the third boy stammered, his voice cracking. "Ichiro… we—we can't do anything now."
Ichiro stumbled to his feet, a lump rising in his throat. With a shaky nod, he bolted from the clearing.
The third boy glanced back. Kenji still hadn't moved, rooted to the spot in stunned horror.
"Kenji, you bastard!" he snapped, fear twisting into anger. "Why are you just standing there? Let's go!" His voice cracked, the usual hierarchy of their group forgotten.
Snapping from his stupor, Kenji trembled violently, his eyes darting around as if searching for escape. The third boy yanked him by the arm and dragged him away. Stumbling at first, Kenji finally broke into a run, sweat pouring down his brow as the two disappeared into the trees.
---
After some time…
The frail boy stirred. His eyelids fluttered as he groaned, blood still dripping from his forehead.
"Ugh… why are there so many trees around here?" he muttered, forcing himself upright with the support of a trunk. His vision swam, the dull ache in his head flaring into sharp pain.
"Where… where's my phone?" His trembling hands searched his pockets, but came up empty. His back pressed against the tree as his legs threatened to give out.
The dull ache sharpened into a piercing agony. His cries echoed through the silent clearing. Clutching his forehead did nothing—the pain only grew, unbearable with each passing second.
"Hahh… hahh… haah…" His breaths came ragged. He collapsed onto the ground, eyes wide with horror as flashes of foreign memories seared through his mind.
I..I've really transmigrated… into the Naruto world.
The pain throbbed as a cruel reminder, but beneath it, a flicker of excitement lit his face.
I can do so many things I always dreamed of doing in a fantasy world.
"But first… I need to deal with the blood."
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his wound. Even the faintest touch sent fresh waves of pain through his skull, but he gritted his teeth and continued until the worst was gone. With effort, he tossed the blood-soaked cloth aside.
"To avoid further complications, I should get to Konoha Hospital," he muttered.
Summoning what little strength he had left, he pushed himself upright and stumbled forward, forcing his body into a shaky run. His vision blurred again as he made his way toward the village, silently praying not to encounter wild beasts along the path.
He ran, his breath shaky, legs trembling, the trees around him blurring as he pushed forward. Finally, the forest broke into a street lined with rows of ninja tool shops.
This must be… Street 24. The hospital should be near here.
He recalled from the tangled mess of memories. He hurried, his battered body on the verge of collapse.
At last, the towering building appeared. White-coated figures moved briskly through the halls as patients were guided inside. He staggered to the reception desk, where a young man shuffled papers behind the counter. The clerk's eyes widened as he noticed the boy.
"What happened to you, kid? You're bruised all over." Concern edged his voice. "Tell me your name. I'll fill your form and recommend you to a med-nin."
"My name is Shun Uchiha," the battered boy said. "I… fell while training. Hit my head on the ground. It bled here." He pointed to the cut on his forehead.
"Alright. This looks more serious than it appears. Let's get you to a med-nin immediately." After filling the form, the receptionist called out, "Hima-san, please take this boy to Itsuki-sama."
The nurse approached with a gentle smile, guiding Shun to follow. But when she saw his staggering steps, she crouched down and offered him a backride. He hesitated, then reluctantly agreed.
They arrived at a cabin with a wooden plaque on the door: Itsuki Nara. The nurse knocked lightly before opening the door. Inside, a woman sat at her desk, dark hair falling around her glasses as she studied a stack of documents—her sharp posture and focused expression making her resemble a strict teacher.