A Shinobi's Guide to Not Dying

Stirring gently, a young boy shifted uncomfortably as he regained consciousness as the light of the early morning sun disturbed his slumber. He blinked, noting blearily that his face was pressed against something lumpy and far from comfortable. It wasn't his pillow, nor his bed, which was alarming in of itself. As he opened his eyes fully the fog of sleep slipping away, he noticed he was lying on a thin futon in a room that smelled distinctly of old wood and dust. 

Sitting up fully, he rubbed his eyes. "Okayyyy, officially the most surreal dream ever..." he muttered taking a closer at his room but everything stayed still rather than slipping away like most dreams did. 

Nope. 

Everything stayed right where it was, solid and real: cracked walls, sparse furnishings and the faint sound of voices outside. Hardly anything like his actual home. His first thought was that he had been kidnapped, which seemed illogical but he didn't really know what else to think as he looked around. 

Deciding to take a look, he reached out to shift the cover from his body to look around only to pause as he looked at his hands. "Waittttt..." Small hands? "No. No way."

Frantically, he pushed himself up and stumbled over to the cracked mirror on the wall only for his eyes to widen in shock. Rather than his thirty-year-old features aged by stress, he was instead staring at a wide-eyed, messy black-haired, chubby-cheeked child. Reaching up in bemusement, he poked his cheek, watching in the mirror as his mouth dropped open upon feeling the cool touch of skin beneath his fingers. 

"This...is not me," he whispered in shock. "What is this? A reincarnation thing?" As if that was all the prompt needed, memories suddenly bombarded, blurry at first but quickly coming into focus. 

Konohagakure. 

Shinobi. 

Ninjutsu. 

A world filled with battle-hardened killers. 

"Fuck. Me. Sideways." He took a step back from the mirror, dread pooling in his stomach. "Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no. This is bad. This is very bad." The memories settled in further as if to taunt him, filling in details he hadn't wanted to remember. "Konoha...I'm in fucking Konoha. I'm in Naruto. Well, not in him. Fuck! I'm so fucked!"

Slowly resting his back against the wall, he slowly slid down till he was sitting down. Resting his arms on his knees he slowly looked at his tiny hands, mind racing. 

"I could've been reincarnated anywhere. But noooooo! I get thrown into a world where people shoot fireballs out of their hands and psychopaths like Orochimaru collect kids like their going out of fashion. A world where teenagers fight wars for a living. Whoever is in charge of this whole fuck up that led me here, I'd like a word!"

There was no answer. 

"Yeah, fuck you too." Slumping against the wall fully, he sighed heavily. "Could've sent me to a nice, quiet countryside. Or maybe a small town bakery where the biggest threat is running out of flour. But nope. Someone upstairs thought it'd be fucking hilarious to dump here. In Konoha."

For a moment, he just sat there, staring up at the ceiling, half-hoping he'd wake up in his old life, in his old bed and not in the middle of some messed up death trap. But as the seconds ticked by, the harsh reality set in once more; he was stuck here. 

In Konoha. 

A world where even the most random background character could blow him up by accident. 

"All right...Rei." The name sounded foreign on his lips. "No use panicking anymore. You've had your little meltdown time to get your head on straight. Let's assess the situation." He looked around the room, his room, still trying to process everything. The room was plain, with barely enough space for a futon, dresser and a mirror with a small window that let in the faint morning light. 

Based on the memories floating through his mind, he was six years old and his name was Rei Fujikage, an orphan. His parents, Shinobi, had apparently died in the Nine-Tails attack, leaving him here with nothing but an old photo and some secondhand clothes. 

His head dropped. "Great. No family. No ninja skills and no allies. Just perfect."

His next step was organising his thoughts, sorting through everything he remembered about the Naruto world. There was a lot and when looked at it from the perspective of living here, none of it was pretty. He knew all too well what was coming; political assassinations, rogue ninjas and literal wars. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded. 

At the age this body was at in most societies couldn't even boil ramen without supervision. Now he was supposed to somehow survive in a world where people got killed daily?

"Okay, yeah, sure. I'll just become a ninja," he muttered sarcastically. "How hard can it be to fight people who can turn invisible and control lightning? It's not like they have entire jutsu specifically for killing people or anything."

He ran a hand down his face, feeling a headache coming on. "Right. So… the plan is to survive. Preferably in one piece. So, first comes first: avoid anyone who looks like they have a tragic backstory. If I see anyone with brooding eyes or a mysterious aura, I'm running the other way."

He could already picture the people he'd want to avoid: Itachi Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, the entire Akatsuki, Orochimaru… basically anyone with a scary reputation and a talent for murder which was an extensive list.

He shivered just thinking about it.

"Second rule: stay away from anything that looks like an 'event.' I am not getting involved in any 'episodes' or 'story arcs.'" He tapped his chin, trying to list out potential things he needed to steer clear of. "If I see a mysterious scroll, if someone says the words 'forbidden jutsu,' if I even smell the Uchiha Clan—nope, not getting involved. Staying far, far away."

After organizing his mental list of things to avoid, Rei started thinking about how to actually survive. There was no way he'd be able to live in a place like Konoha without some kind of training, but he also knew he couldn't access his chakra yet. That would have to wait until he started in the Academy. For now, he'd need to start with the basics: physical conditioning.

He sighed, flopping back on his futon. "So… I'm really going to have to exercise. Every day." He grimaced, remembering the sore muscles, the endless repetitions, the boredom. It was precisely the reason he had avoided doing it in his past life, but now he was going to have to do this just to survive. "Couldn't I have been reincarnated with at least a little bit of super strength? Maybe a few jutsu? Just a small head start?"

Nope.

He'd have to do things the hard way.

Begrudgingly, he got up, grabbing an old notebook from the dresser.

If he was going to do this, he'd need a plan.

He sat back down on the futon, pen poised over the paper, his mind throwing out ideas—and complaints. He scribbled, "Step one: run laps. Step two: push-ups and sit-ups. Step three: more of the same, every single day." With a sigh, he added a new line at the bottom of the page: "Also, no tech, no takeout, no Netflix. Just squats, cardio, and more squats. Lucky me."

With that, he tossed the notebook aside and lay back, glaring at the ceiling. There was a lot he couldn't do yet, and the future still seemed terrifying. But if he took things one day at a time, he might just survive.

-X-

The next morning, Rei woke up early, staring blankly at the ceiling, fighting the urge to roll over and go back to sleep. He lay there for a few minutes, telling himself he could start training tomorrow. But he knew that was just a slippery slope to giving up entirely, at least that was what the rational side of his brain told him. 

But then again, he could just not become a Shinobi, just live as a civilian. 

Except he would then be at the mercy of any Shinobi on a bad day, unable to even escape from a dangerous situation should it come across. He would also be reliant on the Shinobi for protection and by reviewing the memories of Rei, many, many civilians had died during the Kyubi attack which would definitely explain why Naruto and Jinchuriki in general were so hated. 

Shinobi might have the ability to protect themselves and get out of harms way, but not all of them had the ability to do that an rescue civilians as well. Which meant when it came down to the wire, chances were he was going to die. 

Something he was in no rush to do. 

Damn, his rational side for being so rational. 

Damn him for listening.

"Fine," he muttered, dragging himself out of bed. "Here we go, day one of my survival plan. This'll be a blast."

He stepped outside, the morning air cool against his skin, and looked around. He picked a small patch of grass near the orphanage as his starting point. "Okay. Just… start small. Slow and steady wins the race and all that. We're not here to be the best, just survive."

He began with a light jog around the orphanage grounds. At first, he felt a bit of confidence—this wasn't so bad.

He could do this.

But then, after just a few laps, his legs started to feel like jelly, his lungs were burning, and he was gasping for air.

"You've… got… to be kidding me," he panted, collapsing onto the ground. "I've barely started."

Lying on his back, he glared up at the sky, as if the universe were laughing at him. "I used to run on a treadmill for, like, twenty minutes, no problem. But now… I feel like I'm dying after two minutes. This body is useless."

After a few minutes of resting, he forced himself back up, moving on to push-ups. He managed about five before his arms gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground, face buried in the grass. "This is going to be… the worst."

He groaned, rolling onto his back again. "Right, let's change my survival guide. Step one to surviving a shinobi world: try not to die from basic cardio."

But he pushed on, moving to sit-ups and then squats, his young body protesting every step of the way. By the time he was done, he was drenched in sweat, every muscle in his body aching.

He sat down, wiping his forehead and trying to catch his breath. "Day one… completed? Sort of. Needs a lot of work. But I guess I'll be doing this… every single day." He shuddered at the thought, trying not to think about the sore muscles that awaited him tomorrow. "I hate this. I hope whoever you are that brought me here you're enjoying this. One of us might as well."

-X-

That night, Rei lay on his futon, every muscle in his body aching, his arms and legs feeling like lead. The training had been… rough, to say the least, but at least he'd started.

As he lay there, he repeated the "rules" in his mind like a mantra, a survival mantra of sorts. 'Avoid anyone with tragic backstory vibes. Steer clear of mysterious scrolls, forbidden jutsu, or anything that smells like a plot arc. And above all, keep a low profile.'

He stared up at the ceiling, his mind drifting back to his old life. If someone had told him he'd end up reincarnated in a world like Naruto's, he would've laughed. Now, here he was, a six-year-old in one of the most dangerous places imaginable.

"Okay, Rei," he whispered to himself. "One day at a time. Even if it's boring. Even if it's painful. You're going to survive this. You're going to stay out of trouble, and you're going to live a quiet, peaceful life. No epic battles, no tragic backstories… just a quiet, safe life."

The thought seemed nice enough, but as he shifted, a jolt of soreness hit him.

"I'm pretty sure even my hair hurts. And I didn't even know that was possible."

As he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but feel a strange mix of dread and determination.