Fanfic #207 A Most Unlikely Berserker by NeonZangetsu(NarutoXFateApocrypha)

This fanfic is a crossover between Naruto and Fate Apocrypha following Naruto as a berserker in Fate Apocrypha. I like this fic because Naruto is more like his canon self and it has great story elements.

Synopsis: He'd lived a good life. A long one. A happy one. The war was won. He saved his friend. Triumphed over darkness. Was hailed as a hero. He became Hokage. He expected that to be the end of it, to die in his sleep and pass on. Fate had other plans. In the end, he's a Most Unlikely Berserker. Fate Apocrypha! Inspired by RedhathackerSin's story "Lucid Berserker"! Narutoxharem!

Rated: T

words: 124k

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12852184/1/A-Most-Unlikely-Berserker

Here's the first chapter:

It was a good life.

I have no regrets. None worth mentioning at any rate. I had a good time. Won the war. Saved my friend. Got married. Became Hokage. Started a family. Raised plenty of kids. I outlived them all in the end, but still, I died happy. I got to see my grandchildren grow up and have kids of their own. That's the vaunted Uzumaki vitality for you. If you don't die in battle, you're going to get older. Nope, it wasn't a bad life. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Because of that I was able to see the world grow into a peaceful utopia. No more madmen. No risk of war breaking out. I can rest easy now.

Maybe I should just do that.

Leave it to the younger generations.

There's a few young upstarts in that lot of course-there always are-but I have faith that cooler heads will prevail.

Yeah.

I've done enough.

Everyone's waiting for me.

Still...is it wrong that I don't want to rest?

These old bones of mine don't want to lay down just yet. I may be the only left of my generation but going out like this just feels wrong somehow. Ha? Why the long face? Its not like me to just die quietly, ya know! I may be old but I'm not that old. I don't want to die in my sleep like the others. No, I want to go out with a bang. With laughter in my ears and a smile on my face. One last hurrah.

What?

Another adventure?

I wouldn't mind that at all.

Not like I got anything better to do...

(...?...)

At last!

Jean Rum watched the circle before her burn scarlet and felt her heart burn with pride.

At last!

Success!

Her preparations had been excruciating, her timing painstakingly precise. She'd acted at the exact moment the winds were at their highest, when her magic stood at its peak. All her calculations were precise. She didn't care which class she summoned-if she managed to avoid the unpredictable Berserker stigma!-so long as she whose talents complimented hers, that was all that mattered. A Servant with a wind affinity would be perfect, given the nature of her abilities. Yes, that would suit her expectations indeed.

"Arise!" she finished her lengthy incantation with a triumphant shout, "Guardian of the heavenly scales!"

Sparked by her command, the wind picked up, blasting her hair backward.

Such phenomena was within Jean's expected calculations, of course.

A moment of silence passed as she waited with bated breath.

Then came the explosion.

A pillar of golden-crimson radiance erupted from the circle all at once, throwing Jean on her rear and dashing her glasses from her face.

'What in the world?!'

If the mere summoning of her Servant could create a storm of this magnitude, then she'd truly chosen very well indeed. Most would have balked as the skies darkened overhead; others would cringed as the mighty gale spawned a towering tornado that sundered nearby trees and plunged the clearing into darkness. Jean did not fear the shadows. Nor the storm. She had seen far worse in her career as a magi. The darkness in humanity's heart put any form of nature to shame. Still, there was a certain savage beauty to be seen in the storm. A distant, detached part of her wondered if it would consume her. Even now she felt her feet dragging, threatening to lift her into the air at any moment-

And then, as abruptly as the storm had come, so too did it fade.

Steeling her very soul, Jean awaited a response.

Bleary eyes trained into the thick smoke.

Slowly, something stirred within.

These next few moments were crucial for Jean; not only would they determine the nature of her relationship with her Servant, but they may well affect her chances of success in the battles to come. This Holy Grail War would be most unlike the others after all; perhaps the first and last of its kind if Yggdmillennia had their way. Trifas was a large place indeed and she'd have to work with others magi at that. Although the idea of mutual cooperation toward a goal rankled Jean somewhat, she knew that it must be put aside until the Black Faction was dealt with.

Then, perhaps, there would be time for her wish.

Doubtless they would all turn on one another in time once the goal was within their grasp. Still, the Association had its expectations of her and she aimed to fulfill them. She was being paid handsomely for this endeavor after all. No doubt her efforts would prove fruitful. For now, it was critical that she'd summoned a strong contender for the war to come. For now, she would hold her tongue, await a response, and try not to look like an utter idiot in the face of her new companion. Yes, companion. Anyone who viewed such a fantastical being as a familiar was a fool in her eyes-

Aha!

Movement!

A blurred figure in bright colors stepped out of the haze and shifted into her field of vision.

"Well, now!" a loud, boyish voice exclaimed. "What do we have here?!"

Jean's face flushed with a thousand shades of shame.

If only she had her glasses to see them...!

Perhaps her Servant could...

"Here." the newcomer rumbled abruptly. "I'm guessing these are yours."

Thus, it came as something of a surprise when her lost spectacles were inexplicably returned to her. As she looked, still squinting against the dust and grit in her eyes, the figure extended an arm and pressed her lost frames onto her face. Rough, callused fingers brushed her face. Jean's mind blanked to white. She no longer had it in her to move in that moment. With infinite gentleness her Servant adjusted her glasses in swift yet deft movements and then, apparently satisfied with their work, stepped back with a satisfied grunt.

Almost immediately, their own visage swam into crystal clear clarity.

"There." he bobbed his head. That should do, Master."

"I...you...ah!"

The sound reactivated Jean's frazzled psyche and she hastened to correct the battered rims as best she could. Frantic, the magus scrambled back to her feet. Dirtied hands palmed her dress with needless haste, desperate to focus on anything, anything, anything but that surreal experience she'd just endured. She almost couldn't bear to look at the being who was clearly her Servant. How...how could he?! She'd never been touched like that before! Ever! By anyone! It might seem strange for an accomplished magus and killer to be flustered so, but therein lay the truth.

Jean Rum was embarrassed, right and proper.

More-so when she finally mustered up the resolve to look at him.

With a jaw popping yawn, her Servant stretched his arms to the heavens.

"Ah, much better! Feels good to be young again!"

Bright blue eyes the color of endless skies gazed back at her, framed by whiskered cheeks, wild saffron hair and a smile like sunshine. A cloak the color of dark honey hung over their shoulders, sheltering the dark crimson and black vestments worn beneath it. Upon his back lay a giant scroll of unknown origin, secured by a single strap to his shoulders. Jean felt her hopes plummet at the sight of him. Her first thought was that she'd made a mistake and summoned Assassin rather than one of the top tier classes. Oh, this was just the worst...! She silently prayed she was wrong.

"If its about your wish, don't worry; I've got the gist of it thngs to the Throne." he hummed, folding both arms behind his head before she could speak up. "I don't really have a wish of my own. I'm just in this for fun."

That didn't reassure Jean.

Not at all.

Not.

One.

Bit.

"And you are...?" she managed through clenched teeth.

"Eh? Oh, you mean me. Right, right. Sorry, this is still kinda new to me." he grinned, knuckling his forehead like a churlish child. "Lets see...what were the words? Aha! There they are. Ahem," laughing, he coughed into a fist to clear his voice, "I'm Uzumaki Naruto! Class, Berserker. At your service. I ask of you, are you my master~?"

...damn.

His simple remark innocent smile-as well as those words-knifed straight through Jean's heart. That look, that smile, that expression of absolute trust...it was more deadly than a poisoned knife. Too good! Too pure! But he was a Berserker?! This was the worst possible match-up for her! Just how young was he?! He barely looked to be out of his teens! Was he even?! She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She wanted to shake him and all but demand her catalyst back. Of course, she could do none of these, so she was left with only one option.

In the end, slumped.

"Urk." she managed eloquently.

Really, it was all she could think to do.

"Did you not hear me, Master?" Naruto blinked, confused. "I said my name is-

"No, no," she groaned, "I heard you, its just...you don't look like one...

Naruto's right eye twitched at her offhand remark, ever so slightly.

"Ha? What's that? You mean I don't look like a Berserker?"

"No!" Jean exploded! "You don't! Not a bit! Not at all!"

"Well excuse me, princess!"