[Current World: Naruto.]
[Host has randomly transmigrated as — the Nine-Tails.]
[Host has drawn the Newbie Gift Pack: Sukuna Template.]
[Prompt: Multiple Jujutsu Kaisen elements exist in this world. Please explore, fight, and seize enough elements to open the extraction point and leave the Naruto world, unlocking the ability to travel between the "Naruto" and "Jujutsu Kaisen" worlds.]
"Seriously? They don't even give you a body anymore?"
Jin Duran's mouth twitched.
He was alive — barely — and honestly, he still wasn't sure how. One second he'd been staring at the ceiling in his apartment at two in the morning, and the next there were two figures in black and white standing at his window, telling him to step off the rooftop ledge. In the haze between exhaustion and something that felt weirdly like fate, he had. And that's how it ended. Or started. Depending on how you looked at it.
What followed was the binding of the Lostbelt Crossover System — a piece of cosmic machinery that, as far as Jin could tell, treated entire fictional universes the way a cleanup crew treated a contaminated site. The premise was simple enough: transmigrate, collect the anomalous foreign elements infecting each world, and move on to the next.
Whether the world survived the process afterward was, evidently, not the system's problem.
It reminded him of an immune response, honestly. The immune system doesn't apologize for collateral damage. It just kills the virus. Whether the host makes it out intact is someone else's department.
In any case, the situation in front of him was clear: this was the Naruto world. Multiple Jujutsu Kaisen elements had bled into it — contaminating it, destabilizing it. And Jin himself had been dropped in as the Nine-Tails.
Oh, and he'd just pulled the Sukuna Template from the Newbie Gift Pack.
The King of Curses, fused with the Nine-Tails. As far as starting positions went, that wasn't bad at all.
Jin surveyed his surroundings.
Pitch black.
Total, absolute darkness in every direction — except for one thing. In the distance, half-visible through the void, sat a cage. Enormous iron bars, ancient sealing script crawling up every surface. He could feel the weight of the Eight Trigrams Seal from here, heavy as a mountain, ancient as the earth.
His form, though — his form was human.
He glanced down at his hands. No claws. No fur. Just hands.
Huh. The spiritual body takes the shape the mind perceives itself as. He flexed his fingers. That's actually useful.
A slow, interested grin spread across his face. He raised one hand, and the void responded.
White bones erupted from the darkness — vast, cathedral-sized ribcages of ancient beasts rising out of the black floor. A sea of blood spread outward from his feet, warm and impossibly red, stretching to every horizon. The bones of some colossal creature formed a throne beneath him, and as Jin's consciousness settled into the space, his shape shifted.
He became a blond boy — Naruto's build, Naruto's face — but wrong in all the right ways. No whisker marks on his cheeks. Instead, thick black tattoo-like markings curled from his chin up across his jaw, framing features that were sharp and calm where Naruto's were usually loud and earnest. The same face, but worn by a completely different soul.
"Naruto, huh," he murmured, looking down at his own hands with mild curiosity.
"So this is the inside of his body."
He let out a quiet, dismissive sound through his nose.
Jin had never had much patience for Uzumaki Naruto as a character. The kid spent his entire childhood being beaten down by the people he was desperate to protect, driven by a need for recognition that, if Jin was being honest, felt less like genuine willpower and more like someone running a trauma response on a loop. Kotoamatsukami could've explained the whole arc and the story wouldn't have changed.
And then there was the bloodline issue. The Ashura reincarnation. Son of the Fourth Hokage. Uzumaki lineage. By the end of the series, Naruto's rise started to feel less like the triumph of someone who clawed their way up from nothing, and more like destiny running its predetermined script. Every generation of Ashura and Indra, locked in the same cycle, doomed to the same clash. Naruto and Sasuke weren't rivals forging something new — they were echoes.
All that struggle. All that pain. And in the end — turns out every generation was like this.
Jin found it exhausting just thinking about it.
"Since I'm here," he said quietly, almost to himself.
"Let's make this interesting."
The grin that followed wasn't kind.
He turned his attention back toward the cage. As the Nine-Tails — the bijuu sealed within Naruto's body — his soul occupied this space. And thanks to the Sukuna Template, his cursed techniques were already beginning to etch themselves into the architecture of the vessel around him. Gradually, without Naruto even being aware of it, the boy would come to passively understand the structure of the soul — and every attack he landed from here on would carry something extra. Soul-damaging force. True damage that cut through health pools and left lasting debuffs on whatever it hit.
In the JJK canon, even Sukuna's defenses had eventually cracked under Yuji Itadori's relentless Black Flashes. Jin acknowledged that. He wasn't dismissing the ceiling.
But Uzumaki Naruto was still just a kid who thought the answer to every problem was running harder at it. Jin wasn't particularly worried.
First priority: Incarnation. Until he reached that threshold, lurking inside Naruto's body was the smarter play. The Sharingan was a real threat — one good genjutsu and even Jin's current setup could get complicated fast. Better to stay quiet, stay hidden, and build.
Second priority: Find the other JJK elements.
"System," he said.
"What exactly are these elements? Are we talking power systems, or specific individuals?"
[Replying to Host: they are analogous to the Sukuna Template you currently possess.]
Jin's eyes sharpened with interest.
"So Heavenly Restriction is out there. Mahoraga. Limitless. They might all exist somewhere in this world?"
[Correct.]
"Ho..." A slow exhale. "So I won't be the only chaos variable."
That was genuinely interesting. Far more interesting than anything Naruto had to offer on his own. The idea that somewhere out there, a Heavenly Restriction body was walking around the ninja world — or that Mahoraga's absurd adaptation loop might be running in some shinobi somewhere — that got Jin's attention in a way that blond boys and Hokage dreams never had.
He rolled his shoulders, let the bones and blood fade back into the darkness, and turned toward the cage at the center of the void.
The Eight Trigrams Sealing Style.
A masterpiece of fuinjutsu, in fairness. But Jin had time. And more importantly, he could already feel the looseness in it — the degradation that had been building since Naruto's birth. The seal wasn't what it once was.
He walked toward it, studying the bars.
Let's see what we're working with.
Uzumaki Naruto trudged home alone.
The streets of Konoha were quiet at this hour, the village settling into sleep around him. He passed lit windows and lowered his eyes. He knew what was behind those windows — families eating dinner, parents putting kids to bed, normal people living normal lives that he would never quite be allowed to have. He'd stopped being angry about it a long time ago. Now it was just... weight. Something he carried.
He was tired.
Back at his apartment, he kicked the door shut behind him and stood in the middle of the small room for a moment, letting the silence settle around him. Then he opened the fridge, grabbed a carton of milk without looking at the date, and drank half of it standing up.
He boiled water. Made instant noodles.
Ate without tasting much.
The Academy homework sat on the table in a loose pile. He stared at it for about four seconds, then got up and dropped face-first onto his bed.
He was asleep before the thought fully formed.
And then — a dream that wasn't a dream.
Naruto became aware of it gradually. First the smell hit him — copper, heavy and wrong. Then the color registered. Red. Everywhere. A sea of it, stretching in every direction under a black sky. And rising out of that red expanse, bones. Massive, ancient bones, the ribcage of something so large it made the world feel small.
Naruto stood in the middle of it all and his mind went completely blank.
"Brat."
The voice came from above.
Lazy. Utterly without urgency. But carrying something underneath it — something that pressed against Naruto's chest like a hand and squeezed.
"Without my permission," the voice continued, "you don't lift your head."
Killing intent.
It landed on Naruto like a physical weight — not the sharp, aggressive kind he'd felt from dangerous ninjas, but something worse. Something ancient and patient, like standing at the edge of a cliff in the dark and not knowing how far down it went.
But Naruto had never been good at listening to warnings.
He looked up.
Pfft.
The sound was almost quiet.
Naruto's head left his body.
For a single surreal second, he was aware of both — his body standing there, headless, and his head rising upward through the air, watching it happen. Then the cuts came. Dozens. Hundreds. Each one precise, impossibly fast, carving through him like he was made of paper.
Pain.
Pain unlike anything he'd ever felt — not the kind that lived in muscle and bone, but something that went deeper. It hit the part of him that existed underneath the physical, the part that didn't have a name, and it tore.
He wanted to pass out.
He couldn't.
That was the worst part. His body — his healing, his bijuu chakra, whatever it was — it kept him right on the edge. Conscious. Aware. Unable to escape into darkness.
Time stretched into something meaningless.
He had no idea how long he hung there.
Then the voice spoke again.
"Your parents."
A pause. Long enough to feel deliberate.
"I was the one who killed them."
Snap.
The darkness took him.
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