Fanfic #149 Steam by Ornery Otter (Naruto)

This fanfic is a si oc into Naruto. I really like this fic because it has an interesting background for the mc Ann's it looks like it will have interesting word development as the story goes on.

Synopsis: It felt like he just blinked. One moment he lay dying in hospital, the next he had the sun glaring in his eyes, the sky blue and clear above him. SIOC.

Rated: T

words: 55k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16911441/chapters/39731172

Here's the first chapter:

It wasn't at all like how he thought it would happen.

He thought that when he died, he'd just....disappear. That there wasn't anything afterwards. Just a ceasing of his existence and awareness.

Instead it was as though he'd only blinked. One moment he was laying dying in a hospital bed, suffering and weakening, and the next he was stood upright with the sun glaring in his eyes, forcing him to squint.

It took a moment for him to understand what was going on – he was upright and moving, but not of his own action. Instead it felt as though he was wearing a harness across his chest and between his thighs, leaving his legs dangling down but his body held securely. It wasn't his legs that were moving him forward – he was attached to the chest of whoever was doing it for him.

That was confusing. His mobility was limited, but he was mostly frozen anyway as his eyes started to process what he was seeing. A worn dusty path stretched ahead of them, the sky was blue and the sun glared bright and yellow down upon him. He seemed to be wearing a hat. The body behind him was firm and tall (though that might just seem so because he seemed quite small). There were people in the street ahead, heading in the same direction as them. It looked like there was a market ahead.

He couldn't turn around far enough to see who was wearing the harness that held him, only his shoulders (which were broad and exposed by a sleeveless shirt). But whoever it was seemed to be pretty muscular and had a fairly dark tan.

As they continued down the street they reached the market place, which was filled with bright colours and voices shouting wares. It seemed a bit archaic in style, so did the outfits he could now see people were wearing actually.

His father? Walked them over to a street vendor selling fish and began a transaction with the old woman manning it. Whatever language they were speaking in it wasn't one he knew, but he only knew English and wasn't well travelled so that didn't mean much. It did mean he was at a disadvantage right now though.

Not that it mattered really, clearly he wasn't here to make a transaction after all, since he was small and attached to someone else's chest in a harness. Just along for the ride it seemed.

He didn't appreciate when the old lady handed the fish to his carrier and the man leaned forward to take it, nearly sticking his face in the fish in display in the process. It was smelly.

Grumbling his displeasure and huffing out a few breaths to try and somehow push the smell out of his nose, his discomfort seemed to earn the amusement of the saleswoman if her chuckling was any indication, and the broad chest behind him rocked him with laughter of its own.

A large hand came from the side and boofed him on the nose, and the feeling of shaking behind him increased when he tried to bite it. He missed the first time but caught it the second, triumphant. With the impression that the hand-owner had given him the hand to placate him, he nevertheless nummed upon it diligently, dismayed to find that he had perilously few teeth in his mouth at present.

By now the truth of things was starting to become clear, even though it hadn't really sunk in yet. It was pretty clear that things had changed for him, but somehow the brightness of the world in front of him kept his attention and panic just didn't set in.

Instead his eyes wandered as he was taken from stall to stall, drinking in the sights and listening to the sounds even though he couldn't understand them. A few phrases were repeated – presumably greetings and the like, so he tried to absorb what little he could.

It wasn't long before they were turning back down the way they came, walking down the dusty path with the sun at their backs this time.

Eventually the path they were on narrowed and split off in different directions into residential districts. The man at his back talked quietly as they went, presumably to him, not that he could understand. They drew close to one of the houses, nestled between two others, and the broad arms shifted the groceries onto one arm to open the door with the other.

"Tadiama!" The greeting was called out from behind him at a loud volume and he reflexively glanced back at the shoulders, only to look ahead when a distant "Okaeri!" was returned from within.

Well, that sounded like a greeting to him, so he opened his mouth to join in, but what came out was more like "Tadada" at best, and senseless mumbling at worst. His parents? Seemed to appreciate the attempt either way as the harness containing him was lifted off of broad shoulders with him still inside it, and set on the floor.

He did try and land on his feet, but as soon as any weight was put on them he simply toppled back onto him bum on the floor. Next to him, his father was removing his shoes for some kind of slippers, and moments later shoes were removed from his own feet and slippers placed on them, despite the fact that he'd not stepped a foot outside on his own the whole time.

His mother wiggled his slipper-clad feet at him, holding his toes and tickling them playfully as the harness was removed from him, revealing himself to be in a little kimono top and trousers of some sort. Very cute, lots of fabric, no wonder he had barely felt the slight chill in the air outside.

Removed from the travel gear, he suddenly found him hoisted up from behind. It was a strange sensation but smooth and practiced enough that he didn't feel unsafe. Held now in his mother's arms as his father wandered into the kitchen with their bounty, setting it on the counter for sorting. He found himself being plonked into a high chair at the table and left to himself for a moment while his parents talked and sorted out the groceries.

It was clear by now that they were definitely his parents too – they kissed each other and teased each other as they put the groceries away and there were family photos dotted around of the three of them so it was a pretty sure bet.

Kicking his feet in the high chair, it was also clear that he was a small child, with pudgy hands and stubby legs. He was in no state to do much of anything on his own.

-----------

It was a while before he learned much more about this new place he found himself. He did learn other things though, like his name was Hiseo, though he wasn't sure what his family name was yet, and he had recently had his first birthday. His father worked a lot and was often gone for a few days at a time, but more often than not he would leave early in the morning and be home for dinner the same day. His mother on the other hand stayed home with him for the most part, encouraging him to learn through play. She also spent a lot of time crafting little decorative items that he presumed were sold.

His life was simple, but as a child he didn't really have the capacity for much more anyway and it was a good life. Hiseo didn't think he was a bad child to have either – he kept tantrums to a minimum and only had a few instances where he'd struggled with being in this new place and what he'd left behind. He was a bit fussy about trying new food but once he knew it didn't taste terrible he was fine with it.

The only potential problem really was that he wasn't very social. His mother had taken him out to the park a time or two, a beautiful little space with a play area for small children and lots of flowers and the like, but despite being introduced to a few other little kids, he had a hard time...knowing what to do with them? Like, they were so little, crawling around and playing with blocks or other toys and babbling at each other. He was happy playing by himself quietly, trying to learn his words and anything else he could.

After a while his mother grew worried with how quiet he was. He had no problem paying attention or anything, he just didn't like to make sounds. He didn't like how nothing sounded right when he spoke it, whether he was trying to speak in English like he remembered, or to learn the words of the language he was being taught now. His parents worried, and eventually one day his father came back with a new determination.

He stepped into the house with a smile on his face, greeting his family like normal. The difference was the in his hands he held two items: a book, and a small set of drums.

It turned out that the solution to his near-silence was to sing. Nothing complicated, not even words, his parents would sing simple songs to him and he was encouraged to hum along at the very least. It definitely worked, and he didn't feel shy about being unable to get the words exactly right – even people fluent in English flubbed half the words to songs. After that things settled a bit and he progressed a lot better.

Thankfully both his parents had passable singing voices, his mother more than his father. Singing became something that they did through much of their time together from then on.

It was hard learning a language though. Like everyone who learned a second language, he couldn't help but start in his own language and try to translate it, so he was still thinking in English first. It did get easier once he was better at simple sentences and the like, especially without anyone to talk to in English to keep that language as the primary one.

It was also sometimes jarring when he was presented with things that were so different to what he had been used to as 'normal'. The first time he'd met a kid in the park with green hair and it'd been totally normal to everyone else, that had been odd. People's eyes too were often a strange colour, not to mention other strange physical differences. (He saw someone once who looked like their skin was made of rock, that'd been very odd.)

All in all though, everything was peaceful. Wherever it was he lived seemed to be a popular place for visitors, the weather was usually nice and the general atmosphere of the place was joyful. While he wasn't isolated and was often taken outside, he spent most of his time alone or with one of his parents.

That all changed eventually though, when he began to learn his letters in earnest, Hiseo was encouraged to venture further on his own, to interact with other children and learn more about this world he lived in.

It took a while, but he did eventually learn one key thing that he'd missed all this time. Something that had a significant impact on his perception of the world he lived in, which had previously seemed normal enough, and more to the point, relatively safe.

There were Naruto-style ninja. Hitae-ate and all, he'd seen one when his mother took him out for groceries one day, escorting a produce cart to the market.

They seemed pretty normal, a team of three young adults who stood around for a moment after the cart came to a stop, before disappearing abruptly – a flash of movement on the rooftops giving them away.

That knowledge certainly changed things, but not as much as he'd at first thought. It certainly didn't impact his day-to-day. He still got up in the mornings and ate his breakfast, went about his day trying to get his motor skills up to par, sometimes helping his mother with simple crafts for sale. Though it seemed like his father was a ninja, all aspects of that seemed to be kept from him – he never saw his father armed, never saw any other ninja coming to visit. Either his father didn't have ninja friends or just kept them away from the house, but the end result was the same.

He wondered if perhaps his parents didn't want him to be a ninja since he saw next to nothing about them and they weren't talked about, but it could just as likely be that he was too young for them to think it worth talking to him about. It wasn't like he'd be given ninja tools to play with, because for a child his age such a thing would simply be a toy, and that wasn't a safe mentality to have around weapons. He was still an oblivious, clumsy kid (mostly accurate) so dangerous things were normal to keep away from him.

Honestly, it was only when he was four years old that his parents actually sat him down to talk to him about what his daddy did, and only then that he was shown the hitae-ate up close.

It was then that he realised, eyes widening in dismay.

He wasn't in Konoha. He was in Yugakure.

He had to get out of here.