Start of Philosopher's stone saga

The foot steps echoed down the hall near my main office. Those creeks from the wooden steps, the weight of it, it played in my ear, telling me that this monthly long nemesis of mine was getting fatter with each day passing. I had been here long enough to know how this worked. It was what they call a mail man, delivering things that either contained goods news, or bad. Usually in my case, they were bad.

Rent, bills, hidden costs, living expenses…etc… it always came every two weeks, always about electricity, water, and so on that plays wonders in shrinking my large funds. I heard the footsteps come closer as I stood staring out my large window, looking down at the busy streets in this new world. I was in a place called England, living in some city I didn't really care for.

My ears twitched as I heard the mail man laugh, he must have read my sign on the door, and the knock came soon after. Sighing, I walked towards the door my mind already calm and my face stoic. I was used to these kinds of behavior. I reached the door, turned the knob and opened it.

"Yes?" I asked as politely as I could.

" 'xcuse me sir," the mail man's voice was friendly with a sort of false bravado that didn't fail to irritate me, "what is this?" he pointed at the sign on my door. This mailman was new, different from my older post men. One, because the other one never questioned it and minded his own business, and two, I finally took a look at this guys face. I don't recognize him. I spotted my mail neatly tucked under his arm.

"What does it say?" my voice calm, and elegant, is what I would say it sounded, nothing like hasty and rude.

He looked at me funny before shaking his head, "I know what it says but are you serious?"

I rolled my eyes replying, "Yes, now give me my mail," I stared at him for a moment before adding, "please." Always be polite, always.

"So how does that work? What do you actually do?" he just wasn't letting up.

With all the fighting I have been doing, my reflexes were already that of beyond regular human ability, and probably better than most untrained human eyes or instincts. Compared to this man, it was a no brainer that he didn't see, or expect the fast movement from my hand that grabbed the letter. One second he was holding it, then in a blink of an eye it was gone…that would freak out a lot of people.

"Read it again, what does it say?" I asked him calmly, once more, with the politest voice I had.

"'N-Naruto Uzumaki. Ninja." He stumbled a bit, mostly shock from my actions. He didn't even notice that I took his clip board as well.

"Yes," I gave him back the clip board I took, "now unless you are a client, leave now," I spoke out in irritation, "please." Always add a please.

The man complied and left with haste, all the haste I had expected from a slightly obese man. Not so quickly.

"Weakling," I muttered and closed my door. I settled down on my chair and dropped the mail in front of my desk. I stared out once more, into the silence of this empty world, and with it, I remembered my home, I remembered Konoha, and more precisely, I remembered my village. I miss it so much.

Three years ago, when I was just sixteen, something happened, something I couldn't figure out to this day. I was coming home to my village after years of training until I heard a gasp. Jiraiya, my sensei or teacher, was yelling out to me, I couldn't hear him, I just felt it. It burned inside of me, I don't know what it was but all I remember was hearing a woman scream, then a green light before I passed out. When I awoke, I ended up in a place called Chicago. I was new, I didn't know anything about this world, and believe me when I say that people here don't know what chakra is, or shall I say, magic? They have never seen it or used it before. To them, magic was a myth, a false illusion or trick played by others.

Well, it seemed all my commotion brought the attention of several people who had similar talents I had, if not weaker. They told me of this world, spoke of how I wasn't supposed to use magic in front of people or I think they used the term muggles. Of course this was all new to me; I didn't know what I was doing. I told them where I was from, what I was but they didn't know what I was talking about, they assumed I was under some spell, I was not sure what they called it but I knew I wasn't.

They helped me understand this world. Helped me gather a new identity so I could blend in with the regular humans; I was grateful but I needed to find a way home, I didn't know how I got here and I wasn't sure what I could do to get back.

I traveled on foot, trying to find anything familiar to me. It took me two years until I finally gave up, I had traveled the world and so far, no one would tell me what I needed to know, mostly, because they didn't have a clue what I was talking about. I went back to Chicago, looking for the same people who helped me, maybe they were leaving some information out, something to help me figure out what to do. I didn't find them, they disappeared without a trace.

For years, I had been taking jobs where I can find them, and not so surprisingly, I've been working as a hired thug. With my skills in genjutsu, changing my appearance in this world was really helpful. I've met all kinds of people, scum, robbers, thieves, you name it, and once in my life, I was one of them. A mercenary that always got the job done, but I didn't like it.

I'm not too proud of my past but I am a ninja, I am hired to kill, to do what I have to do to survive, at least, that is what I told myself.

Every day I missed my home, I missed my friends. I cursed who ever sent me here and I hoped there was a way of returning home.

The only other person I could talk to was Kyuubi. The fox was mostly silent; the demon didn't know where we were or how we could get back. Its funny these few years, I've talked to the Kyuubi longer than I would have in my world, but of course, with my predicament, I'm sure anyone would do the same.

Where was I, oh yeah, Ninja? It was after the end of two years until I got out of the murder business, I never enjoyed it and since I never knew these people, I felt no regret. They were all bad men to begin with and I made sure I killed one of the lesser evils. It was easy getting out, especially since no one knew how I really looked like, getting out was simple. I used my old connections I had formed as a mercenary, found something that I might like to do, forged a few documents and there you go; Naruto Uzumaki, Ninja for hire. Actually in the documents I had to have it under P.I. since there were no such things as ninjas in this world. So really, it's just Naruto Uzumaki, Private Investigator. Of course the laws say you have to be a certain age to have certain professions, with my genjutsus I could change the way I look so it didn't prove much of a problem. I'm 19 years old who is currently registered as 25, it works.

Now if you check the phone books, you would find me under N, for Ninja. My add looks like this:

NARUTO UZUMAKI – NINJA

Personal Investigations. Protection. Consulting.

Advice. Reasonable Rates

No assassinations, parties, training,

Or other entertainments

You'd be surprised how many people call me. A lot of them are pranks, while others actually ask me what it is I do. A few come in expecting to buy some ninja novelty items…they get the ends of my fists.

But I do get hired, mostly those who needed protection, consulting, or wanted me to spy on a cheating husband or wife and so on…

Then I get hired for consulting on dead bodies for investigations that seem to baffle me. People who die with no known causes, kids who are found mauled into pieces by some unknown animal, preferably a dog with huge canines, and also one that seemed to disturb me the most, sightings of a ragged creature preying on anyone at nights. There was a news article once about it in the tabloids. Something about the ragged man.

At first, I thought they were pranks so I ignored it and gave a logical advice for them until that day happened, when a certain boy came in. He looked so scared as if something was chasing him. He told me a werewolf was stalking his house or something like that. I didn't believe him at first so I turned him away. I never even heard of a werewolf at that time, maybe a few snippets or stories on the myths but that was about it.

Then on the news the next day…I found the boy again, or what was left of that boy.

I had to turn my eyes away; I made a promise ever since that day. I promised that that would be the last time I shoved away a problem like that; I would never do it again.

I took the jobs that sounded like those in the stories. Let me tell you, werewolves are real. I found one; I killed it before it could scratch me. One, I knew karate, two, I was scared shitless and with me, scared shitless meant battle frenzy, and three, I knew ninjutsu.

I took several jobs after that, made a name for myself in the area. To the local folks, I was a lunatic detective speaking of things that aren't real. But to the people I have actually helped, they looked at me as a hero and it is for them, I continue doing what I do.

It was because of most of my success on those missions that it seemed to have taken notice to some familiar people. The same people who helped me when I first came here, they entered my office back at Chicago, told me I would be needed here, in England. At first, I refused until they told me there might be a way of me returning home.

I grew excited, that was all I wanted so I packed up and left. I am still new to this place, the people who told me that I could find a way home only gave me a slip of paper with a word written down on it, The Leaky Cauldron. Of course there where directions on how to find the place, something about Charing Cross Road, I don't need to explain it.

Travelling for me is different than others. I never bought these things they call cars; instead, I would walk or sprint to my destined area. I'd cast a low level genjutsu hiding myself or maybe change my appearance to something small and insignificant as I would run across the buildings, as fast as I could just to reach where I was heading. I've ridden in a car before, it was fun but I found in time that they cramp up my legs, I was more used to running then riding, but on cases were the areas are too far apart or if I need to travel to a faraway area, then yes, I would have to use a vehicle.

I arrived at the street Charing Cross Road and looked around the area. At first, I couldn't find it, I've asked around and most people just gave me a strange look, saying they had never heard of the place. I didn't give up, there was a way of me returning home and this place was my only clue, I continued my search.

It took me most of the day but when I was about to give up, I noticed something strange in one of the alley ways. An old man leading a boy into the dark, they were dressed differently from the others around me. At first, I wondered if anyone else noticed this. Everyone around me seemed to have adverted their eyes from the alley way; they didn't even notice anything weird with that picture. I walked forward and watched as the man did something with a stick, tapping at the wall before a crowd of people blocked my view. Next thing you know it, they were gone and I was left with even more questions.

I walked up to the wall at the end of the alley, knocked and listened in…nothing.

I was about to call it a night until I found the place I was looking for, right next to the alley, more like the alley was the rear, it was the Leaky Cauldron.

I entered the place. Multiple eyes stared at me as I felt a bit self conscious. I tugged at my hat I wore, placing it down to hide my face as I made my way towards one of the stool near the counter. I sat down, observing the area, noticing how dark it was before I heard whispers all around me.

I focused chakra into my ears, wondering what they were saying.

"who's that?"

"I've never seen him before."

"How did he find this place?"

"Is he a muggle?"

"The anti-muggle wards, are they still working?"

'What the hell are they talking about?' I just sat there dumbly, wondering why where they so worried.

"Can I help you stranger?"

I turned around, looking at the person I presumed owned this place. He looked at me with eyes untrusting, he looked like some creepy old guy with a balding head that wouldn't welcome any customers. That isn't good for business.

"Yeah, just give me whatever drink you suggest," I told him before relaxing my stance, trying to think of what to do next.

He looked at me weirdly before complying. I watched him leave to fulfill my order as I focused on my thoughts. What was I supposed to do next, why did they tell me to go here? I was tired of all this searching, I had nearly given up on a way to return home, but all I got was this clue, what was I supposed to do?

He returned with my drink, placing it in front of me as I took a look at my mug. The liquid was a dark color, bubbly as I smelled some sort of sweetness radiate from the surface. I took a sip and surprised myself at how much I enjoyed the sweet taste.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

The bald guy asked me as I placed my drink down and responded, "yeah, I've been told to come here, says this place is supposed to help me with a problem of mine."

"Sorry, can't help you there," he turned his back on me as I sighed, another dead end.

"Don't know you, don't want to know you," he said not turning to face me, "there's been enough trouble these past few years, you seem like a likeable guy but I typically try to avoid problems, sorry but I wish you luck stranger." He left to the back as I saw the others around the establishment speak in hushed voices, they avoided me too.

"Damn it," I muttered in a low voice as I finished my drink. At least he didn't let me pay for this.

Walking out of the bar I was back to where I was at originally, nowhere, but this time, I was somewhere new.

It has been weeks since I went to that place, but I still had to maintain my business here so I did a couple of jobs, nothing interesting.

I sagged at my chair, staring at the ceiling as my mind wandered of to the best years of my life, back to my time in Konoha until I heard my door open and the tiny steps that walked inside.

I turned around, standing up from my chair and looked at the source.

"Can I help you?" I said before spotting the most mal-nourished boy with the most un-kept hair staring at me with bright green curious eyes behind those black glasses of his that were taped in the middle.