As Alexander regained consciousness, he was surrounded by darkness and nothingness. But then, suddenly, he felt warmth. It was a strange sensation that he hadn't experienced before. He tried to shake off the feeling that he might be in a hot place. The thought of being in a scorching location was unbearable to him. he didn't know why, but it freaked him out.
As he was trying to make sense of his surroundings, he felt something grasp his head, pulling him in some direction. he tried to resist, but the force was too strong. He was being pulled towards the light at the end of the tunnel.
When he was finally pulled out of that warm place, he sensed the coldness in the air. It was freezing, and he shivered uncontrollably. He felt like his skull was about to be crushed like eggs by whatever had grasped it earlier.
But that wasn't the only thing he could feel. He could hear a woman screaming like her life depended on it. It was an ear-piercing sound that made his heart race. Amidst her screams, he could hear the voices of other men and women talking to her.
When he emerged from the warm place, he realized that he was a baby. The cold reality of his situation hit him hard. The feeling of coldness, the screams of the people around him, the wrapped cloth that enveloped him - he was reborn.
"look at *** he **** **** you *****? how *** we ****** our ***?" a weak voice spoke at the man beside her as he handed Alexander over.
He tried to focus on the conversation of the men and women who were talking, hoping to glean some information about his current location. They were speaking in a pattern of Japanese language that was slightly different from the version he had learned back home, for why he did so, he did not remember.
"**** What do you **** of, hmm, Izaku?" a men said.
'Izaku? Was that my name? Not a bad name.' thought Alex.
'At least my parents seemed to have put some thought into it.' It seemed like he was in Japan, but the being that spoke to him earlier had said that it was a world different from his.
'I hope that it wasn't some terrible time of war and chaos, although the ancient Japanese language that the people were speaking suggested otherwise.' thought Izaku.
"Izaku... yes, Izaku Utsukuro, the 2nd heir of the Utsukuro clan," the man said.
His heart sank. Being an heir of a clan meant a life of constant assassination attempts, robbery attempts, and the possibility of being caught up in a war like the Sengoku era with other powerful clans. He had thought that he could live a peaceful life, but now that seemed unlikely. At least he seemed to have been given to a wealthy family.
He tried to open his eyes, but a blinding white light flashed over them. His eyes adjusted to the light, and he tried to take in his surroundings to get a sense of the era he was in. But everything was blurry. Perhaps it was because he was a newborn.
As his eyes adjusted to the light, he looked up to see whom was supposed to be his father. He looked at him like he was a precious jewel. His mother, on the other hand, cried tears of joy as she held him in her arms. 'It wasn't that bad to have a new family after all.' he thought.
"Welcome to the family, Izaku."
1 month later after birth
The month preceding his birth was a tedious and mundane experience. The only respite from his boredom was the frequent outing to their backyard, which helped keep his mind relaxed. However, being a baby with limited mental capacity proved to be a challenge. He often found himself struggling to formulate mere thoughts or guessing his whereabouts, which ultimately led to exhaustion and frequent napping.
But the worst part was undoubtedly being fed with his mother's milk. It was a necessary part of his early development, but the memory of it was a bit embarrassing. Despite his reluctance, it was an integral part of his growth and Izaku knew he had to endure it.
He couldn't help but feel a sense of attachment towards them, especially his mother. Despite not being his 'real' parents, something within him wanted to spend his life with them. It was a confusing mix of emotions that left him feeling overwhelmed and uncertain.
9 months later after birth
As he finally gained the ability to crawl, he found himself with a newfound sense of freedom. Though it wasn't exactly the most practical way to get around, it allowed him to explore his home and stave off the boredom that had been plaguing him. As he made his way through the house, he marveled at the juxtaposition of the traditional-looking Japanese house and the modern kitchen and furnishings. He couldn't help but feel like he was part of some magical, ancient family living in a world that was both old and new.But his curiosity got the best of him, and he couldn't resist taking a peek out the kitchen window while his parents slept. He climbed up onto a chair and piled some pillows on top of it until he was just high enough to see outside. And what he saw was breathtaking. Men and women in kimonos walked the streets, the sun shining down on them and the air cleaner than anything he'd breathed since...
He paused, realizing he couldn't remember most of his life. He could recall his childhood up to his teenage years, but beyond that, it was a blur.
'I know he said that most of it will be forgotten until due age, but shit's too much,' he thought angrily.
His memories were sacred to him, a testament to his life experiences. But now, they were gone. For some reason, he still possessed his logical thinking. Deciding not to dwell on it, he told himself to be patient; it was time to go to bed anyway.
But as he was getting ready to climb down, he lost his footing and fell headfirst towards the ground. he felt a moment of panic wash over his, convinced that he was going to die again only nine months after his first death.
But then, a hand caught his leg just in time, saving him from what would surely have been the most embarrassing death one could have.
"Damn lucky boy. You scared the crap out of me, you know," his father sighed, shaking his head. Then he started walking back to Izaku's room with the used pillows, no doubt for his curiosity that almost got him killed and classed in a WatchMojo Video.
Looking up, he froze. Izaku's father was looking straight at him with the warmest smile he could get, but that was not the problem...
As the father noticed the scarred face of his child that is staring at him, he said "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, kid," he said with a smile. "This," he pointed at his face, "is the Sharingan. One day, you will get like this one, and you will become powerful like your daddy. Now get some sleep, you sure as hell need it," he said as he placed his son down in his baby bed.
The Sharingan was spinning wildly, replaced by an onyx-colored eye that kept looking at him with amusement as Izaku gaped in surprise. Then he kissed him on his sons forehead and whispered, "Good night kid. Love ya'," tucking him in his bed before departing from his chamber and leaving him with his dumbfounded expression.
'Sharingan...old-style house...kimonos as clothes outside...' he kept looking at the ceiling with no real thought in his head because of the newly found information about this world.
"Gracious god, I am in...the Naruto world...where nobodies can become gods... toddlers killing grown men... and it seems I am in the warring state period, possibly before the name Uchiha replaced the Utsukuro, or long after the Naruto era where the Uchiha name is forgotten..."
"Oh kurwa," he muttered. Those were his first words in this world.
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Bratva: Some things never change
FanfictionWar. War never changes. It transforms everything around it to its very core, yet its essence remains immutable. Humans have always been, and continue to be, a confrontational species, driven by hunger for power, greed, anger, or fear. Power corrupts...