The rain was pouring down on the streets of Tokyo, the kind of relentless downpour that blurred neon lights into smudged streaks of color. Keiji Nakamura adjusted his glasses as he jogged across the crosswalk, clutching his briefcase under one arm. Another late night at the office—another day wasted in spreadsheets, deadlines, and hollow small talk with coworkers he barely cared for.
"Thirty-two years old," he muttered under his breath. "No girlfriend, no family, just Naruto reruns and Pokémon fan theories."
His voice was drowned by the rumble of thunder, but it didn't matter. No one was listening anyway.
The crosswalk light blinked red just as the low roar of an engine grew louder. Headlights cut through the curtain of rain. Keiji turned his head, just in time to see it.
A truck.
Too fast.
Too close.
Too late.
His body froze, but his mind raced. Memories flickered in an instant: childhood afternoons trading Pokémon cards, nights arguing in forums about Uchiha clan power scaling, rereading fanfiction where Naruto and Madara had rewritten history.
And then—impact.
Metal crushed bone. Glass shattered. Pain flared—then nothing.
Darkness.
---
Keiji floated in the void. There was no body, no weight, only a strange calmness. Then, a voice—soft, distant, almost maternal—echoed in the abyss.
"Child of fate… you seek a different path. Your wish has been heard. Reborn you shall be… not as spectator, but as player in the great game of destiny."
Before he could respond, warmth enveloped him, dragging him from the void.
---
The first thing Keiji felt was life. He gasped—tiny lungs filling with air, a wail tearing from his throat. His body was so small, fragile, unfamiliar.
He was reborn.
Above him leaned a woman with flowing dark hair, her features sharp yet soft with maternal concern. Her eyes were not like ordinary eyes—they carried the weight of wars fought, lives healed, and sins buried deep.
Retsu Unohana.
But… wasn't she from Bleach anime?
Keiji's newborn mind reeled. He was supposed to be in the Naruto world, wasn't he? Or had fate twisted things further?
Unohana cradled him, her expression unreadable yet gentle. "My son…" she whispered, as though testing the word. "You are my second chance."
---
Flashback: The Battle of Monsters
Years before this moment, the woman known as Retsu Unohana had not been a mother. She had been a warrior drenched in blood. Her blade once clashed with a man the world feared—Madara Uchiha.
Their duel was savage, stretching from dusk until dawn. Unohana's blade carved through Madara's Susanoo, while his firestorms painted the battlefield red. Neither sought mercy. Neither understood surrender.
But amidst that storm of death, something impossible sparked.
Between one clash and the next, their eyes met—not as enemies, but as kindred souls. Madara's smirk softened; Unohana's killing intent wavered. For a fleeting heartbeat, they saw reflections of themselves: lonely titans, chained by destiny.
And in that fleeting weakness… affection was born.
But Madara was swallowed by his dream, chained to his clan duty. He left her behind, abandoning that fragile bond.
Unohana, shattered, sheathed her sword. If love could not heal her, perhaps healing others would. From that day on, the once-demon of the battlefield became a gentle healer, masking bloodlust behind a serene smile.
And in time—she bore his child.
---
Mother and Son
Keiji's first years were blurry fragments of sensation, but slowly, awareness blossomed.
He felt Unohana's warm hands guiding him as he learned to crawl. He saw the faintest curve of her lips whenever he laughed. He heard her hum old songs, a melody that carried both sorrow and tenderness.
Sometimes she gazed at him too long, as though seeing Madara's shadow in his tiny face.
"Keiji," she murmured one evening, when the baby clutched her finger with impossible strength. "You are my greatest sin… and my only redemption."
Keiji, trapped in the body of an infant, could only gurgle. But deep inside, he understood. He was more than just reincarnated otaku. He was the son of legends—one who bore the potential of two worlds.
---
Years passed in moments. By the time he could toddle around their modest home in the Land of Fire, strange things began happening.
Shadows clung to him unnaturally, bending toward his presence. The air grew cold when he cried. Once, a small toy floated across the room without being touched.
Unohana noticed. Of course she did.
Late at night, she would stare at her sleeping child, sensing that unnatural, ghostly aura. It reminded her of death itself—the thin veil between the living and the lost.
"Just what are you, my son?" she whispered.
Keiji, half-asleep, dreamed of Gengar's mischievous grin and the countless battles he had fought on his Game Boy. Was this… the Pokémon System awakening within him?
---
On the night of his third birthday, the aura flared stronger than ever. The shadows in the room twisted like living ink, circling around the child. The candles flickered out, plunging the room into eerie darkness.
Unohana rushed forward, heart pounding, but froze when she saw his eyes.
Keiji's eyelids fluttered open.
For the first time, his gaze locked on hers—glowing faintly in the blackness.
A crimson hue shimmered in his pupils. Three tomoe had not yet formed, but a spark—faint yet undeniable—burned within.
The Sharingan.
Unohana gasped, torn between awe and dread. "His eyes ."
And yet—behind the red glow, something else flickered. A ghostly shimmer, alien and unnatural. As though another power—older, stranger—was awakening within.
Keiji smiled faintly, with the awareness of a grown man trapped in a child's body. Destiny itself was cracking open.
The world had no idea what was coming.
---
End of the Chapter
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