On a fine, almost painfully bright day where the sun blazed so fiercely it felt like it could scorch your eyeballs right out of your skull, a tiny boat drifted lazily across the open sea beneath the relentless heat.
Perched at the edge of that little vessel was a lone figure. One hand rested against her cheek in bored support, while the other held a half-eaten red apple. She stared at her watery reflection below with an expression that screamed disinterest, as if even the sea's mirror was not worth her attention.
After chomping down the last few bites of the sweet fruit, Naru made her way back to the center of the boat, where her modest collection of belongings lay. There was a sling bag recently made from high-quality material by Dadan herself, gifted to Naru just a day before her departure from the island. Next to it sat a fruit barrel, once overflowing but now down to its last couple of survivors. A few water bottles rolled about, two already emptied. And there it was, an old, crinkled map of East Blue, acquired during a secret visit to a certain noble household in the Goa Kingdom. Totally not stolen. Definitely not.
She stared at the timeworn piece of parchment with a blank expression, letting out a dramatic sigh for what had to be the fiftieth time that day. Then, with a practiced flop, she laid on her back, using the sling bag as a makeshift pillow, eyes drifting up to the clouds floating lazily above her.
It had been exactly five days since she had left Dawn Island. By all accounts, she should have reached a nearby island by now. But no, here she was, adrift and increasingly unsure if she was headed anywhere at all. She could not help but wonder if the map was even still accurate. It was decades old, after all. Surely islands did not just vanish… right?
And no, despite Kurama's snarky comment that occasionally rang in her head, Naru refused to believe that she was lost.
Even if she was, technically it was not entirely her fault.
The first three days had been smooth sailing with perfectly fine weather. But on the fourth day, chaos struck. The sky could not decide what it wanted to be, as one moment it was sunny, then came a light drizzle, then full sunshine again, followed by a downpour worthy of a sea god's tantrum, and back to clear skies. Two nights ago, she had been hit by a raging storm out of nowhere. Wind howling, rain slashing sideways, classic nightmare fuel. The storm knocked her off course completely, leaving her bobbing helplessly in the middle of the dark ocean.
When the sun rose the next morning, Naru realized she had strayed far from her intended path. With great reluctance, she admitted, okay, maybe she was a little lost.
But still! It was the weather's fault for throwing a tantrum.
To make things worse, her boat did not have a proper roof, no shade from the sun, no shelter from the rain. She had been thoroughly drenched, and her boat had taken in so much water it could have doubled as a kiddie pool.
And Kurama? Oh, he had been so helpful.
By which she meant, not at all.
The smug bastard had spent the entire time complaining in her head, mocking her for not knowing how to use a compass properly. His sarcasm was so intense she was starting to think her ears might bleed.
Then yesterday, the final straw. She had accidentally dropped her only compass into the ocean. Shocked into stillness, she could only sit and watch as it sank into the depths, never to be seen again.
At that point, Naru reached a conclusion. Sailing and life at sea were absolutely not her thing.
It might sound like a hopeless case, especially for someone who could not even navigate with a compass. And of course, her partner, the mighty Kurama, was far too prideful to offer real help. Heaven forbid he transform into his full form and do something useful, like keeping watch for land.
Why?
Well, apparently Naru had once read something in a survival book for dummies, literally titled Sailing for Idiots, that if you ever got lost at sea, you should follow the setting sun. Because no matter how bad your luck was, the sun always set in the west. Seemed foolproof enough.
So she followed the sunset, praying she was moving in the right direction.
Now, though, she was not so sure. Maybe setting sail on her own had been a really bad idea.
"Idiot," Kurama scoffed in her head.
She immediately snapped, "It would be so much easier if you actually came out and helped. You could have found us land days ago if you were not such a lazy furball."
"And it would have been easier if you knew how to read a map and use that thing that points north," Kurama shot back, oozing sarcasm.
"Oh, come on, Kurama. I know you hate getting your precious paws wet, but could you at least help me spot some land? I really, really do not want to be out here for another night."
"You're the one who is lost," he said flatly.
"Well, we are in the same boat," she pointed out, annoyed.
"No. You are in the boat. I am in the seal."
"You're seriously messing with me," Naru grumbled. "And by the way, you are the one who would not shut up about leaving the island, and now that I actually did it, you do not even want to come out?"
"There's nothing interesting out there," he said with a dismissive grunt.
Yeah, right.
Naru knew the real reason. Ever since the gross sewer-like space inside the seal mysteriously transformed into a comfy grassland paradise, Kurama had been lazing around like a pampered fox king. Why would he bother coming out into the sun to sweat and suffer when he had a personal five-star seal spa?
If she had a table right now, she would flip it. Hard.
Fuming silently, she slapped her arm over her eyes and went quiet. Kurama did not say another word either.
And so, just like that, Naru decided to take a nap, letting the gentle sway of the waves and the mercy of the currents decide where she would end up.
When she eventually woke, the sky had shifted into a breathtaking gradient of purples, reds, and oranges. Sunset was painting the heavens.
She stretched her arms with a satisfied groan and admired the mesmerizing view until something small caught her eye on the horizon.
A speck.
A glorious, life-saving speck.
"Finally! An island!" she exclaimed, her voice practically sparkling with joy.
Suddenly full of energy, she snatched up the paddles she had previously tossed aside like useless sticks and began rowing furiously toward the distant land, driven by sheer desperation and the sweet promise of solid ground.
.
.
.
Upon reaching the island, Naru checked her surroundings carefully. After making sure there was no one around, she placed her boat into her storage seal.
Even though her Fuinjutsu level was nowhere near that of seal masters like her late parents or teacher, her natural talent in the art was still impressive. However, since Fuinjutsu was not her main focus, Naru primarily used it to enhance her weapons and attacks, as well as store items in her storage seals.
For shinobis, scrolls were the most commonly used medium for storing items. Since there was no scroll available and she had no interest in carrying one around everywhere like Jiraiya, Naru experimented with other ways to store her belongings without needing a scroll.
Eventually, she discovered that she could use almost anything as a medium, as long as it could hold the formula.
Even her own skin.
She could draw the characters or formulas required for a simple sealing jutsu on her body, and it actually worked. However, the drawn formula would eventually fade because it was not permanent.
Tattooing the formulas was an option, but that was something she did not plan to do, at least not for now.
Instead of using her body as the medium, since being a Jinchuuriki for a grumpy old fox was already more than enough, she preferred using convenient items she could wear at all times, like her favorite red beaded bracelet, a birthday gift from Dadan last year.
Using the sharpest tool she had, enhanced with her wind affinity, Naru carved the formula onto one of the beads. Now her storage seal rested on her wrist, which also held her boat safely within it.
After storing her boat, Naru surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. The island appeared ordinary, rather than the extraordinary places she had half-expected to find. Given her circumstances, she had no room to be picky.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, she ventured into the forest. Raised on a mountain and having spent years exploring the wilds of Dawn Island, she moved with the confidence and ease of someone who felt at home among the trees.
After a short while, she noticed two long trails on the ground accompanied by animal footprints. Upon closer inspection, she concluded that the trails most likely came from a cart or something similar, dragged by a large four-legged animal. A horse, perhaps.
"That means there is civilization on this island," she muttered, interest piqued, and began following the trail.
Not long after, she reached the edge of the forest.
Brushing aside low-hanging branches that blocked her view, she stepped out and immediately saw a small village nestled among the hills. From her vantage point, she spotted a group of children laughing and playing, as well as villagers working in their fields.
The sight stirred a rumble in her stomach. She had not eaten a proper meal in days, nor had she slept on anything other than a rocking boat. With her decision made, she headed toward the village.
When Naru stepped into the village, the sun had already set, replaced by the pale glow of the moon. Most of the villagers had returned to their homes, leaving only a few people wandering the main street. They looked at her with curiosity, but their expressions were friendly enough to point her toward a local ramen stall when she asked. Naru engaged in a brief conversation with them, answering honestly that she came from another island.
They spoke pleasantly for a few minutes, and she did not correct them when they assumed she was older than her age. After all, who would believe that a ten-year-old could travel alone?
After parting ways, she quickly found the ramen stall the villagers had described.
In the central part of the village, there were only a handful of stalls and stores, which was not surprising given the small population.
The ramen stall looked much like any she had visited in both of her lives. Several stools lined the front of the stall, where a lone old man wearing a yukata ate a large bowl of ramen at the right end. The cook was busy speaking with his only customer.
With an empty stomach and an eager smile, Naru took a seat to the left of the old man, immediately drawing the attention of both the customer and the cook.
"Oji-san, one bowl of miso ramen with extra pork, please!"
"Oh! A new customer? Coming right up!" the cook responded, springing into action.
As she watched him prepare her meal, the old man turned and spoke.
"You're not from around here, are you, child?"
His deep voice drew her attention. Her eyes focused on his thick, bushy unibrow. She restrained a reaction that might have been impolite and gave the same answer she had given the villagers. His interest seemed to grow.
"And you do not have a single older companion with you?"
Naru was about to answer when the cook, having finished her order, placed a steaming bowl of miso ramen with extra pork in front of her.
"Please enjoy!"
"Thank you!" She looked at the old man once more. "Nope! It's just me alone!"
"You're quite brave for your age. Not many people, especially someone as young as you, have the courage and skill to sail across the ocean," he remarked. "Since this is your first time here, your meal shall be my treat for today."
She blinked in surprise. "Eh? You really don't have to do that, old man!"
"I insist," he said, waving a hand. Then he turned to the cook. "Shuji, put this girl's meal on my tab."
"Very well, Shimotsuki-dono!" the cook replied.
"I eat a lot!" Naru added, wanting to warn him of her big appetite despite being thrilled to receive free food.
The old man chuckled. "A growing child should eat her fill."
He rose from his stool, nodded to the cook, and began walking away.
When the old man had taken a few steps away from the ramen stall, Naru waved and called out, "Thanks, old man! Next time, it will be my treat!"
He did not reply, continuing his walk. After a short distance, he stopped, turned, and looked at her with a deep, unreadable expression. After a moment, he turned away and continued on his way.
Satisfied with her words to the kind old man, Naru turned her attention to her ramen. She held a pair of chopsticks in her right hand and a spoon in her left. Her first bowl was gone in less than a minute.
"Another bowl, please!"
"Coming right up!"
The second bowl was served and devoured just as quickly.
"Oji-san, do you have shoyu ramen? I would like a bowl, please!"
"Yes!"
"Oji-san, another!"
"O-Of course! Please wait a moment!" The cook wiped the sweat from his brow, silently thinking that this little customer had an enormous appetite. Shimotsuki-dono would likely cry if he saw the bill later.
In the end, Naru only stopped after finishing her twelfth bowl. The cook, now leaning against the counter, watched in amazement. He had been cooking ramen for nearly a decade, but this was his first time seeing a customer capable of finishing twelve bowls in one sitting.
Rubbing her satisfied stomach, Naru took some bills from her wallet. "I know the old man from earlier said he would pay for my meals, but as you can see, I ate a lot." She worried that he might not be able to cover the cost of all the empty bowls stacked before her.
The cook chuckled. "Since this is your first time here, you probably did not know the identity of the old man from earlier, little girl, right?"
Naru shook her head.
"That old man is our respected village chief," he said. From his words, Naru realized that the man had founded the village, which bore his surname, Shimotsuki. His given name was Kozaburo. A respected figure like him would not care about a small amount of money.
After her hearty meal, Naru realized she did not have a place to sleep. That was not a problem.
She decided to sleep in the forest. Not wanting to walk, she leaped lightly, landing on a random roof. Running and jumping across rooftops, she left Shimotsuki Village, unaware that a pair of eyes followed her every move.
Once deep in the forest, she climbed onto a sturdy branch of a tree and settled in with casual ease. Using her bag as a pillow, she slid one arm beneath her head. Her gaze drifted upward to the starry night sky, as dazzling as ever, before resting on the glowing full moon above.
Without warning, memories from her past life flickered in her mind. A familiar ache stirred in her chest, a feeling reserved for those she had loved and lost.
With a sigh, she whispered to the night, "I wonder how everyone else is doing now. They are probably living peaceful lives without me, right?"
The war was over. The deadliest enemies had been defeated, and the shinobi nations had found unity. Everything was stable. They would be fine, and they would move on without her.
Ten years had passed since she was reborn as a new person. Sakura and the others from her class would be twenty-seven now.
"Well, no use thinking about it," she murmured, shaking her head. "No matter how curious I am, there is no way to find out. I do not even have the summoning contract with the toads anymore."
She pushed aside the bitterness creeping into her voice.
When she had regained access to her chakra, one of the first things she tested was her ability to perform jutsu, particularly Kuchiyose. She had hoped, however faintly, to summon the toads, but nothing appeared. She felt disappointed, though not surprised. The Uzumaki Naru who had made the contract was gone. Now, only Monkey D. Naru remained, and it made sense that the connection was lost.
She did not dwell on regret. Accepting reality with her usual resolve, she refused to let one failure sour her day.
Lately, she had been experimenting with the chakra thread technique used by the Suna ninja. Thinking it would be fun to act like a puppeteer, she extended her hand, twitched her fingers delicately, and watched a thin, glimmering chakra thread unfurl from her fingertips, snaking toward a cluster of leaves.
She was focused and calm when her body suddenly stiffened. The chakra threads vanished instantly.
Danger.
Naru sat upright, a kunai appearing in her hand. Her heart raced as she assumed a defensive stance, ready to face whoever or whatever watched her from the darkness.
Her gaze fixed on a spot in the forest. What had seemed harmless moments ago now radiated threat. Her imagination ran wild with possibilities.
"Show yourself!" she shouted into the night.
A figure emerged from the darkness. Naru's breath caught. Recognition dawned. It was the old man from the ramen stall. His expression was calm as before, but the sword at his side sent a warning.
"..The village chief?"
So he was the one with the dangerous presence.
The old man said nothing. He stood still, eyes sharp and unblinking, studying her with unnerving intensity. It felt as if he weighed her soul.
The silence stretched until his voice finally cut through the forest.
"Your Ryuo feels warm and pure. Yet beneath it, I sense something darker, far more sinister. Child, what exactly are you?"
Her heart pounded, but she masked it with cold indifference. "How long have you been tailing me, old man? Do you not know how creepy it is for someone your age to stalk a little girl?"
His eyes flicked to the kunai in her hand, glimmering faintly under the moonlight. For a heartbeat, the forest fell silent.
Then he moved.
Naru instinctively raised her kunai, clashing steel against steel. The force rattled her bones.
The attack ended as suddenly as it began. He stepped back calmly, showing no further aggression.
"You reinforced your kunai with Ryuo," he observed. "Otherwise, it would have shattered instantly against my blade."
Annoyance flared within her. The kunai had been made by Magra at her request. "You are far too confident, old man. I don't even know what you're talking about, but if you intend to fight me, we should move somewhere farther from here. You would not want those villagers caught in the crossfire, would you?"
He did not respond immediately. Slowly, he sheathed his sword with a soft click.
"Come," he said. "Follow me to my residence."
"What?"
"We shall talk. Peacefully. Over a hot cup of tea."
"...Huh?"