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A Kunoichi At Heart by Chloryl

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Story notes: I do not own Naruto or you.
This is a reader-insert CYOA where you, as the reader, get to choose the path/personality. You're not really classified as an 'OC', but you're not a canon character either, hence the category. Enjoy! ^^

You flipped through the various channels aimlessly, hoping to stumble upon your favourite TV show. No luck. You groaned. Why was there nothing good on when you had free time and were bored out of your mind? Summer sure was taking its toll on your sanity. You almost wished you were back in school again and sighed at your own preposterous desperation.

You made to turn off the television and contemplated your situation. Maybe you could reread your books outside, and maybe attempt at suntanning while you were at it. Your index finger hovered over the power button when a flash of yellow and orange on the screen caught your eye. You blinked in disbelief.

“Awesome, it’s Naruto!” you laughed delightedly, setting the remote down and leaning back into your chair in anticipation. It was one of the shows you were obsessed with when you were younger. In fact, you used to be hopelessly addicted. You even had your own Naruto plush toy. You closed your eyes happily, waiting for the show to start.

You were so caught up in reminiscing those happy memories that you did not immediately register the fact that the theme song had faded away much earlier than it should have. Or maybe it was just because you watched the show too long ago, and forgot how it went. Oh well, whatever. But you also didn’t notice that the background noise in Naruto sounded closer and much more real than it should. It did not sound like it was coming from your lousy speakers, rather from the hi-tech stuff movie theatres use…or more like real life.

Your eyes flew open.

“Huh? Where did my TV go?” you wondered aloud, dumfounded. Directly in front of you where it should have been was an empty wall. And your television set had definitely been there a moment ago. You squinted at the blank space on your wall, wondering if you were just imagining things.

Without a warning, the ground began to lurch unpleasantly. You squeezed your eyes tightly shut as your head started spinning. You gasped as you felt a stabbing pain in your arms and chest. What on earth was going on? Your eyes fluttered. You glimpsed a whirlwind of swirling colour and strange lights. Just as suddenly as this strange incident began, you blacked out.

***

“[Name]. [Name]! Are you all right?” There was someone pounding frantically on your door.

You blinked groggily, struggling to get up. Who would be here at such a strange hour? Your body felt oddly numb, as if you had overslept. But as you looked outside your window, you could see that it was still quite dark. You scanned your surroundings, feeling uneasy. Where am I…? You wondered. You did not recognize the unfamiliar ceiling, and neither did the strange furniture look like the stuff in your home. Though, it did resemble your house, a bit, once you inspected the room closely. I must be dreaming, you decided. There was no way you could be been…abducted or something, and taken to some strange place. You glanced around cautiously, preparing to defend yourself if someone jumped out and attacked. The pounding grew louder. And who was that at the door?

“[Name]!” the voice yelled again. It was unmistakably male, and it wasn’t a voice you recognized. Though, come to think of it, you might have heard it somewhere before, perhaps in a movie or on the radio. How odd.

“Um…who’s there?” You asked warily, surprised at how different your voice sounded. It was still your voice, you could tell. But more like…your voice when you were younger. You stood up suddenly, feeling dazed and disoriented. You glanced around the room again, half-expecting it to melt away like it sometimes did in dreams. You walked to a corner of your room, inspecting the walls and poked it experimentally at random. Then your eyes moved to where your mirror was. You peered at your reflection and nearly toppled over in shock.

You were younger.

“Gah!” you cried out in surprise, staring at your twelve-year-old self. You slowly brought your finger to the smooth glass and your reflection mimicked your movements. You let out a frightened squeak and withdrew your hand as if the mirror had burned you.

“[Name]! Are you okay? Open the door!” You had completely forgotten about that person.

“Coming!” you called hurriedly, mentally cringing at the strangeness of your voice. You fumbled with the locks and yanked the doorknob open. Then you nearly tumbled backwards in shock for a second time, but you managed to catch yourself before you fell.

Standing before you was a man with dark brown hair tied in a stiff ponytail, a scar running across the bridge of his nose, and wearing a very recognizable green vest.

It was Umino Iruka. In person.

You promptly fainted.

Go to Chapter 2.

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