Chapter 1 — The Day Truck-san Smiled
The night smelled of wet asphalt and instant noodles.
Aaron padded down the empty street with a plastic bag swinging from his hand. Streetlights dripped yellow light on the road, turning puddles into gold coins. He'd stayed up too late again—bingeing fan-theories, half-watching old Naruto fights, arguing online about whether Minato really could beat Madara in his prime.
He laughed to himself. "Man… if I lived in that world, I'd actually train. None of this destiny stuff."
A low hum grew behind him—engine, tires, a vibration that crept into his ribs. He stepped off the curb, still scrolling through his phone. The screen glowed blue across his face.
The hum became a roar.
Headlights washed over the rain like twin suns, bright enough to bleach the color out of everything. Time stretched thin. He saw the outline of a truck cab, a decorative sticker grinning on the bumper—an oddly cheerful cartoon face.
For one impossible heartbeat, it looked like the truck smiled back.
The world bent. Sound cracked. The light became everything.
A single breath later, Aaron was standing.
But not on asphalt.
He blinked at the impossible expanse around him—an endless parking lot under a sky the color of TV static. Thousands of empty lanes stretched into nowhere, every space neatly numbered. Fluorescent lamps buzzed overhead, powered by nothing.
His phone was gone. His bag was gone. The air smelled faintly of gasoline and ozone.
A horn honked behind him—two polite beeps.
He turned.
A semi-truck rolled toward him without touching the ground. Chrome gleamed like liquid mercury, and on its windshield sat a pair of cartoonish eyes projected in light. The mouth on its grille curved upward.
"Good evening," said the truck, in a voice that rumbled like an idling engine. "Name's Truck-san. Congratulations on your successful transmigration."
Aaron blinked. "I—what?"
"Fatal collision detected, soul intact, no paperwork missing. Excellent record keeping." The truck sounded genuinely pleased. "You're one of the lucky few! A front-row ticket to reincarnation."
Aaron stared. "Wait, you hit me?"
"Technically, yes. But let's not dwell on blame. Think of me as… a cosmic chauffeur." The headlights blinked like a wink. "You anime people are always walking into traffic. Occupational hazard."
Aaron rubbed his temples. "So this isn't a dream."
"Oh, it's much better than a dream." The truck beep-laughed. "You get a brand-new life! We call it the Isekai Express. You've been selected for our premium destination package."
"Premium destination?"
Truck-san's grill lights flared with pride. "The world of Naruto."
Aaron froze. "You mean—the anime?"
"That's the one. Paperwork says you're a long-term fan. We try to match passions with placements."
His heart kicked against his ribs. "Wait—wait—if I'm going there, who am I supposed to be? A random villager? A background ninja who dies in episode five?"
Truck-san coughed—an actual mechanical cough. "Ah. About that. There was a small database hiccup. You'll be reborn as Minato Namikaze's younger brother."
Aaron's jaw dropped. "You're kidding."
"I don't kid. Except when I honk." Honk.
Aaron ran a hand through his hair—or tried to; his fingers passed through like static. "Minato's brother. The guy doesn't even have a brother."
"Exactly! You're welcome." The headlights brightened in excitement. "You'll add narrative depth. Canon expansion! The editors upstairs love that."
Aaron's mind spun. "Do I at least get powers?"
"You get good looks," Truck-san said cheerfully. "Extremely good looks. The kind that cause side-quests."
"What am I supposed to do with that?"
"Survive. Entertain. Possibly fix a few plot holes while you're at it. Just don't, you know, blow up the timeline."
Aaron tried to protest, but the truck's horn drowned him out. The asphalt under his feet began to ripple like water.
"Wait! How do I—"
"Good luck, handsome Namikaze!" Truck-san called, already rolling backward into the void. "And remember: always look both ways before destiny!"
Light swallowed everything again.
Warmth. Weight. A muffled cry.
Aaron's eyes fluttered open to blurred shapes and golden light. Something enormous lifted him—a woman with fiery red hair and a tired smile. A man with sun-bright eyes looked down in astonishment.
The man laughed softly. "Kushina… he has my hair."
The woman cooed. "Minato, meet your baby brother."
Aaron tried to speak, but only managed a helpless wail. The sound that came out was high-pitched and furious, like a tiny protest against cosmic bureaucracy.
Inside his newborn head, his thoughts were pure panic.
Truck-san actually did it. I'm in Naruto. I'm literally Minato's brother. And I'm—oh no—why is everyone so tall?
He kicked helplessly.
Minato leaned closer, smiling. "He's already got spirit."
Aaron's newborn brain screamed: I'm doomed.
End of Chapter 1
Next: Chapter 2 — The Cry of a Baby Prodigy