Pain
It was the first thing Leonard knew. A raw, searing pain that seemed to sink into his very being and coil through his soul as if circulating blood. The sensation was akin to molten lava flowing through his veins, his nerves fried from the unimaginable sensation.
His lungs strained, pained parts of an incomplete breath rushing in and out. They refused the infusion of oxygen into his blood with fervour. It was as if his body rejected the very idea of life, tempering his soul to its demise through forced closure of bodily functions.
Leonard reached for the glass of water placed near his hospital bed, but he felt..weak. His arms merely twitched and his legs dangled in the air, as if lacking the required length to reach any surface from their perch atop his butt.
All the while, the venom of agony raged in his veins, and the pain of the soul reached the body. Slowly but surely, his brain became somewhat capable of distinguishing pain from other sensations, and his vision gained some sort of autonomy.
He forced his eyes open.
His eyes darted around, gazing at an eerily quiet room.
'No..'
It was..wrong. This air, the environment and even this body.
No.. Everything.
Everything was wrong.
His ears also recovered enough to contribute their efforts towards regaining his five senses. There was an incessant sound of downpour. The sound of unrelenting rain kissed his ears.
The air was thick and heavy with the scent of damp cloth and old metal. The faint murmur of voices drifted through the room, hushed whispers, the occasional soft coo of a mother calming her child. But beneath it all was a bitter scent. Like medicines and not the proper ones.
He turned his head around in an attempt to take in the unfamiliar sights.
Blurred shapes.
Was he in jail? No a crib?
He was in a crib.
And not just him.
Rows upon rows of them, stretching out into the dimly lit ward. Some were occupied, tiny forms barely shifting beneath thin sheets. Others were empty, cold and abandoned. But the room wasn't warm. It was moist.
A medical ward?
He questioned but none answered him, other than the urge to scream, accompanied by the same searing pain.
There was a constant moist feel to the environment. Leonard really hated it. It didn't provide any solace to the burning blood in his body. Rather it seemed to be like a fuel intensifying the blaze on his soul.
His breath hitched. His body was wrong. Too small. Weak. And yet—his mind, his thoughts—they weren't new. They shouldn't belong to a child.
The realisation slammed into him like a knife to his heart. This wasn't his body!
He should be older. Taller. Stronger. But here he was, barely more than an infant, trapped in a body that didn't feel like his own, wrapped in pain he couldn't escape.
The sound of laughter distracted him and yanked him out of the incessant pain.
He again turned his head, this time very conscious of the weak muscles that barely responded to his will. Sluggishly, his gaze settled on a figure at the far end of the damp ward.
A woman. Around his age, if he had to make his guess.
Well, not anymore. But she seemed to be in her late twenties.
She sat on a simple stool, her arms wrapped around a small bundle, her movements soft and careful, rocking her child.
The baby cooed in response, tiny hands reaching for her face, fingers curling into the fabric of her uniform. His gaze flickered upward, settling on the cloth tied firmly around her forehead.
A headband
The symbol etched into it was unmistakable.
His heart clenched.
He knew that symbol. He had seen it before—on screens, in books, in a world that should have been nothing more than fiction.
Naruto.
It was the sign of Amegakure. The Hidden Rain. The village would be torn apart by war and paranoia. The village of Hanzo the Salamander. The birthplace of the Akatsuki.
His lungs again strained to take in a satisfying breath. This time, his worry, anxiety and panic imbued in his inhale, and as he exhaled, realisation dawned on him. Just a breath and his life had gone from sound sleep to a dream.
But this wasn't an illusion, it couldn't be. The pain coursing through him was anything but phantom, it was the realest sensation he had felt. More genuine than his first heartbreak.
He had been reborn into the world of Naruto.
And not just anywhere. He was in Amegakure.
Not Konoha. Not the safety of the Hidden Leaf. No Will of Fire to protect him, no powerful clan to shelter him. He was in one of the most brutal, war-torn villages in shinobi history.
His eyes lingered on the woman. Had he been married, he'd also have had a beautiful wife like her. And...and maybe even a small child like that of his own.
This wistful stare lasted just as long as the tick of a clock and he returned to reality. The woman was by no means normal; her shoulders seemed tense, and her eyes and ears sharp like that of a predator.
He had no doubt. War did horrible things to his world too. This one was no different.
The moment was burned in his memory. His first sight, the first glimpse into this wretched world. The scene of a mother cradling and smiling at her child while wails of other orphans rang around the ward. The woman was unperturbed. She ignored the others and kissed her child.
War had abandoned these children and he was one of them now. Abandoned and alone.
But he was alive.
And if he was alive, he could survive.
If this was Amegakure, then what time was it? Was this the den of Akatsuki or the territory of Hanzo, the Salamander?
He had to figure that out and plan accordingly.
Leonard turned his gaze back to the ceiling, the flickering light above casting long shadows across the walls.
His eyes then cast down at his tiny hands, a paper note tied to them.
It read- "Maybe I'll never call your name, but Mother will always be there for you, Kagerō."
A small smily was doodled at the end instead of a full stop. Leonard now Kagerō smiled, his baby lips curling into a small uplift that seemed like almost a giggle would escape his mouth.
But there was none, just as there was no one for this small baby in this whole world.
He had no clan. No Kekkei Genkai. No safety net.
His internal monologue was interrupted by a sudden, almost robotic but slightly intimidating call.
"Hanzo-sama!"