My SI Stash #51 - Red and Purple by BANIX (Naruto)

-Another great short story from BANIX, it would be really nice if this gets some sort of Boruto sequel tho/

Synopsis: Nobody said that there really is a second chance at life, that my second chance at life is to grow up as a child soldier in a world that was once fiction. Nobody said that I would be reborn with the fate of being cannon fodder where all I want is to live, to survive. But, I have a friend that helped me, a friend with an unhealthy obsession for purple. (Reincarnated OC)

Rated: T

Words: 15K

Posted on: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13766294/1/Red-and-Purple (BANIX)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics/originals mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1

Nobody said that there really is a second chance at life.

Nobody said that my second chance at life is to grow up as a child soldier.

Nobody said that my second chance at life is to grow up in a world that was once fiction.

Kumogakure, a village located in a range of tall mountains and quite literally hidden in the clouds. Vast mountain ranges are all you can see and thunderstorms are as common as seeing the sun rise and set each day. Rivers meander around the mountains as they eventually flow to the sea and the view of the coastline is something that might even put the Maldives to shame.

I say might, because I never did have the chance to visit the Maldives in my previous life.

Visually, Kumogakure are made up of two distinct types of people. The people with tanned skin or those with a lighter shade. I belong to the latter. Like most of the populace, I sported light yellow hair. My genetic roots are definitely from Kumo since I look like any of the ordinary citizens living up in this mountain village.

Kan, that is my name in this life. Simple and to the point like how people from Kumo prefer. I have no family name. The third war was in full swing by the time I could comprehend that this world is the world of Naruto and it is not pretty. Unlike what the manga or the anime portrays it is something that is only filled with horror, fear, and propaganda.

Like many other children of Kumo and the victims of war, I have no family. I have no idea who my parents are because I have never met them. All I know is that I am Kan, another orphan living in the Village Hidden in the Clouds.

By the third year I am here I had made up my mind that the only way for me to continue living in this bloody world is to be a killer for hire. I had seen for myself what being a civilian means. No power, no say, and too weak to do anything against cold-blooded killers that wield the magical powers of chakra. If I want to stay alive for as long as I possibly can I have to be able to wield chakra.

I need to be a shinobi.

There were no restrictions in regards to how young one can be a shinobi, especially during times of war. As long as you are capable of keeping up with the education and prove yourself worthy you are admitted to the academy to be moulded into another faceless tool. It took me a few years, but I managed to get myself admitted by the time I was six.

While I do remember a fair bit of the series, they largely center around another village where all the protagonists gather. Kumogakure isn't such a place. What I do know about the village largely stagnates about the Raikage, the jinchurikis, Darui, the big ass turtle and that is probably about it. Maybe throw in the Gold-Silver brothers for additional information.

I definitely wasn't expecting to recognise Nii Yugito. I definitely wasn't expecting to be in the same class as her, much less being her desk mate. I have no idea if fate has plans for me or if this is purely coincidental.

Yugito and I both sit at the very back of the class, right at the very left corner where we are easily overlooked. It is an area where we draw the least attention to ourselves and is why I chose to sit here in the first place. I wasn't expecting her to choose the seat beside mine when she entered the classroom just five minutes after I did on our very first day in the academy.

Everybody knows who Yugito is. It will be very foolish not to, considering she is Kumo's second jinchuriki, host to the flaming devil cat Matatabi. Whispers follow wherever she goes, fearful stares trail along wherever she walks.

Her presence alone spells fear.

She merely casted me a brief glance and a smile when she sat next to me before taking out a book to read, ignoring all the harsh whispers and stares that were directed our way. I remembered that I simply stared at her, jaws dropped, not really knowing what to do.

But fuck it. I'm an adult, at least mentally, I can handle this much.

And so, I take out my own book to read as well. Thank whatever gods out there that I had the foresight to bring a book along for entertainment.

The academy is hard, physically.

The more intellectual part of the academy course wasn't much of a challenge beyond the initial language barrier, what with the Japanese language being confusing as hell to learn. Thankfully, I got that out of the way even before I entered the academy. With that down, things like history, math, and whatever nonsense that followed wasn't too hard for me to ace them with ease.

Things like physical conditioning, taijutsu, ninjutsu, and insert whatever jutsu here are another story entirely.

I don't hail from a clan. I do not have shinobi parents. Even when I had taken the effort to try and improve my stamina even prior to joining the academy the most I could do were things like push-ups and running laps. Those were still not enough to prepare me for the academy. I do not know how to properly punch, kick, stab, and kill.

The academy is supposed to be there to rectify all of the above problems, but even then it is lacking. Being a skilled shinobi does not automatically translate into being a good teacher and that goes for the chunins here. If you want to look further, just look at how Kakashi handled Team 7 pre-Shippuden. The extremely basic tree walking aside, the only thing he ever taught them was 'Those that break the rules are trash, but those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash'. Spiritually lifting? Yes. Practically useful? I think not.

The clan kids do not care about the subpar academy lessons because they have a clan to fall back on. The same goes for the students with shinobi parents. As you might have imagined, civilian students like myself find ourselves severely lagging behind in the physical department just one month into the academy. At this rate by the time we graduate from the academy we will be nothing more than cannon fodders. In a world where information and techniques are guarded so zealously, you cannot go far without any form of backing or connections. That is the harsh reality of a shinobi village.

When I realised that the chunin teachers are of no help I decided to forgo my pride and be shameless, asking whoever I know of that might be able to help me for tips. Most brush me away, some indulge me as they give me a tip or two. That was all I could work with. However, it frustrates me, because the amount of help these so-called tips gave me really wasn't much. I know I can be better, I know I can go further. I just need the opportunity.

I have no idea what spurred me to do what I did next. It was just another ordinary morning. Like me, Yugito is an early bird and values the notion of punctuality. The both of us were just sitting there at our tables reading our books, waiting for the day's lesson to start and for some unknown reason I opened my mouth.

"Do you mind teaching me taijutsu?"

There was an awkward pause between us and for some reason I dare not look in her direction, not even a glance. However, she did give me an answer.

"Sure."

Yugito is merciless.

She had started training at the age of two, the age where she was made into a jinchuriki against her will. She had the best teachers to guide her along and train her in whatever it was deemed necessary for her to learn. The only reason she enrolled into the academy was because the Raikage felt that it was necessary for her mental well-being that she interact with people her age, even if it was for one short year. It will not do well for our jinchuriki to be a social idiot.

With the kind of life she had led ever since she could think, I couldn't fault her for not knowing what the word 'restraint' meant.

Everyday before and after school we would spar. She beat me every single time but I am happy. Eager, enthusiastic even, because I now have someone who is willing to teach me to be better, to be stronger, to be able to have the opportunity to learn how to survive in this fucked up world.

She corrected every single mistake she could see. She taught me what she knew without holding back and I learned with an eagerness that I never thought possible. Maybe the thought of being involved in the war in the future spurred me on even more than I realised, but I don't really care to find out.

I will learn and I will survive. The plot? I couldn't care and am not able to care. I am not reborn in the right place and age. Whatever happens after the third war, if there is an after, I will deal with it when I get there. I have to be able to survive the third war before I can even start thinking about the plot because right now, I have nothing.

Right now, I am nothing. Right now, the only thing I could do is to learn as much as I can in order to survive in this cutthroat world.

Yugito is a very reserved individual. I couldn't really remember what her personality was like by the time Shippuden rolled around so I have no idea what to expect. Even then, I'd like to think that we had formed some sort of friendship between us.

It was also during my time spent with her did I really get to experience a fraction of what the life of a jinchuriki is like. The whispers, the stares, they are always around.

It really is too much.

I have no idea how jinchurikis endured such treatments their entire life without going insane. At least, I probably would. The respect I have for Yugito and Bee rose a lot higher after experiencing what Yugito had to go through whenever we spent time together outside of the academy in our usual haunt, an abandoned training ground not too far from the academy itself.

I recall that in canon, Yugito was captured by the Akatsuki by the Zombie Duo. That was her importance to the plot, to be a sacrificial side character with no other purpose than to introduce the Akatsuki and what they can really do.

But looking back at this sweet and kind girl trying her best to learn how to play the shamisen as we spent our afternoons together, something in my heart twisted in agony at the thought of her fate. For some reason, I cannot picture her dead, just like that. She didn't ask for such a fate, didn't ask to be turned into a jinchuriki and forced into the life of a shinobi against her will. Her mind might have been already too filled with propaganda to ever think about not being a shinobi, but the fact is that she is my first and only friend that has genuinely tried to help me when I have no one by my side.

I have no idea when I got this sappy, but maybe the fact that the only person that I could bring myself to trust in this insane world is this little girl caused me to feel this way.

Of course, being friends with one of the village's two jinchurikis brings about a lot of trouble as well. The matron of the orphanage no longer sees and treats me nicely as how she did before. I became ostracised by almost everyone I knew. The possibility of me making any new friends outside of Yugito dropped to nil the moment word got out.

Funnily enough, I couldn't bring myself to care. At the very least, I do have one person who truly cares for my well-being, the blonde hair girl that is trying to learn how to best play the shamisen because it is the only non-shinobi related thing she knows that brings her joy.

And so, I decided to swear a silent vow for my very first friend that had helped me at my lowest when I have nothing to give in return. If I ever survive the Third War, I will do my best to ensure that she stays alive. I will make sure that she is safe from the Akatsuki.

It's the only thing I can do for her, my first friend in this insane and twisted world.

I actually did it. I graduated from the academy with the new shiny forehead protector worn across my forehead. Things suddenly felt very real the moment I put on my forehead protector. I am now officially a shinobi. Yugito had graduated half a year before me because she is just that advanced for her age, especially with the number of private tutors the Raikage sent to teach her. I never saw her again after that day, but at least I did manage to give her a present before she left.

The present really wasn't much. I didn't have a lot of money to begin with so my present wasn't anything special. It's just a purple hair clip designed for kunoichis, made to be a lot more resistant to wear and tear. I realised that she has a fondness for purple so I made sure that the hair clip is purple in colour.

From the smile on her face when she pins it on her hair for the first time, I guess she loves my present.

Despite my best efforts to stand out among the crowd, my status as a civilian orphan is a bigger factor in deciding my future vocation than anything else. I got shafted into the genin corps like how more than half the class did. Most of us that were shafted are civilians or orphans, the expendables. People who wouldn't be missed if we die on the frontlines. The other lucky half were mostly clan kids or children born with a bloodline. They are the lucky ones who will have the privilege of having a Jonin teaching and guiding them every step of the way.

People like me are nothing but expendables.

But I refuse to die just like that. I refuse to bow to my fate. I had long since decided that I will claw my way up to survival because like hell I was dropped into this world just like that only to die a dog's death. I will survive, one way or another.

I learned, I persevered. Fear is my driving force and motivation. The unwillingness to resign to my fate fuels my strength. Where my peers had all given up and succumbed to their exhaustion I forced myself to continue training and grow stronger, even if it's just a little. Where my peers are too afraid to ask our superiors for help in learning various skills and other training methods I did the exact opposite. Where my peers are unwilling to forge ahead into danger I volunteered for the job when I think that the risks are justifiable, because I need such experiences if I want to be a decent shinobi that can survive in any kind of war.

It's not much, but small things do accumulate to become even larger over time. I picked myself a skill here, learnt another jutsu there, earned myself some tips on kenjutsu and the Lightning Release from a few chunins, built myself some connections over yonder, and slowly I found myself getting stronger and deadlier as a shinobi. Sure, none of that flashy jutsus that I remember seeing in my previous life, those belong to the privileged who have the connections and the birthright to, but we are shinobis. We don't need to be almighty, we simply have to be deadly.

That still doesn't stop me from reverse engineering whatever jutsu that I could remember and possibly reverse engineer. Namely, the Chidori and the Rasengan.

Rasengan was easy enough. The steps to learn it were broken down in detail in canon and I remembered the key points that made a Rasengan a Rasengan. Chidori was a lot trickier but I am a shinobi from Kumogakure. Lightning Release is our bread and butter and Chidori at its very core, is a jutsu made possible by directing a high concentration of lightning chakra to your hand. I could work with that.

Of course, I also knew Chidori's greatest drawback. I do not have the sharingan and I sure as hell am not open to the idea of having the eye of a dead man's inside my skull. What I am aiming for is the variants that evolved from Chidori, the variants that Sasuke had invented which does not require the sharingan and more importantly, the underrated S Rank jutsu that is Kirin. Those are jutsus that I could possibly learn and use without any broken bloodlines or clan backing. Those are jutsus that I can possibly learn by simply putting in a lot of hard work, something which I am more than willing to do.

It took me years before I could form a manageable Rasengan and the Chidori variants. It made me realise just how fucking thick Naruto's and Sasuke's plot armour were.

Regardless, I kept my "inventions" a secret because by now, there really isn't a need to draw attention to myself. By now I have the skills, techniques, and experience that I need to stay alive in this war. I am fine being a career chunin if it means being stuck on the safer missions. I am fine with being just another face within the crowd because after all, I just want to survive long enough to live in the peaceful era that the Child of Prophecy was supposed to bring.

That really was my initial plan.

Living through war within the village was one thing, being on the frontlines was another. I had lost count of how many I had killed or helped kill. My victims came from all over the place and thankfully, or not, none of them are canon characters as far as I could recall. What I do realise is that my peers within my age group had started to diminish one after the other. Many died, some others suffered permanent injuries that no longer allow them to be on the frontlines. In any case, the few that are left, like me, are those who steadily began to see the rise of our strength as shinobis. I can tell from how Jonins and Elite Jonins are starting to notice my name, I can tell from how they purposely request for me to be on their team during missions, I can tell from how my superiors are more willing to impart their knowledge and experience when I asked, because they feel that I am worth the investment and is an asset to the village.

Time passed in a blur. I had been in the war for years now and although it had gotten easier, it still wasn't easy. I am still a teenager at sixteen and that is saying something, because being able to live till this age in such times as an orphan with a civilian background is an achievement in itself. Many did not live past fourteen upon being thrust into war immediately after their graduation from the academy. I never even had the chance to return back to the village for a goddamn break, not even once.

Such is the life of the expendables. The only break we will ever catch is when we die, or if we live till the war is over.

I was too busy trying to stay alive that I did not keep track of time really well. What I do remember is that towards the end of this blasted war, I met her once more. I could tell that she was surprised as well, just as I am. I never expected to be placed on the same team as Matatabi's jinchuuriki.

The first thing I noted about her was that she had really grown, just as I did. We are no longer children. We are taller, fitter, stronger, and more powerful. Gone are our innocence and childish wonder. She still has a fondness for purple, her combat attire says it all and it is starting to resemble what I vaguely remember her attire should be from the series.

What really caught me by surprise was that she is still wearing that exact same hair clip that I had gotten for her so many years ago. How long has it been? Five years? Six years? Probably even longer, right?

I really couldn't remember. I had genuinely lost track of time. All this while I was just too busy trying to stay alive.

"Kan."

Her voice brought me out of my thoughts. Her voice now is a lot silky and smooth, but it still has that firm yet gentle tone that I remember her for. A faint smile rests on her face as she walked up to face me and it was only then that I realised that I am now the taller one among the two of us. She used to be the taller one.

"Yugito." I replied, not bothering to keep the smile off my face. "It's been a long time."

"Indeed. Are you well?"

"Alive." I shrugged before my gaze went back to the hair clip I had given her so many years before. It's very worn and old and I'm surprised it hasn't been destroyed yet. Young as she is, she is our village's jinchuriki. The missions she had been on must have been insanely difficult, the kinds that I probably won't survive should I embark on it.

"You still keep it."

"This? Yes, I do." Her hand subconsciously went up to gingerly touch the hair clip upon my words. "It was the very first present I received from a friend after all."

For some reason, my heart twisted once again for the second time after so many years when I heard her words. My cheap present was the very first she received?

Just how fucked up is this world?

"I can get you a new one after this is all over, if I return back alive." I offered before I realised what I am actually saying. This hair clip is too old, to the point that it looked like it won't survive another battle.

"Why? I like this a lot."

I can only stare as Yugito… pouted? Since when did she ever pout?

Ignoring everything else, Yugito dug through her weapons pouch and brought out a scroll before handing it to me. Like the hair clip, the scroll looked old, like she had kept it with her for years.

"I wanted to give this to you the next time we met but I never had the chance. I have it with me all these years, just in case I see you again when I least expect it. Do you still want it?"

I blinked, not believing what I am hearing. She looked at me with her hand outstretched, still holding onto that scroll that she is dangling in front of me like a playful cat. I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand, pretending that the sudden warmth swelling behind my eyes wasn't there.

I never made a true friend ever since I found myself in this insane world. The people that I could get along with, they all died on the warfront years ago. I had always been alone. I had long since accepted the fact that I will die an easily forgotten death.

Yet, all this time, she remembered me. All this time, she treasured the memories that we had made in that one short year.

For some reason, that really moved me.

"Yeah. Thank you."