Naruto: A Wrench In The Gears Of Fate

Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto or Ikkitousen.

Speech
Thought

AN/ Updated.

Chapter 1: Prologue, Getting the Ball Rolling

"As you have all heard, Seito Academy will start opening its doors to a select few male students, and may in the near future become an openly co-ed institution." Low murmurs trickled through the classroom. And not just this one. Teachers were delivering similar announcements throughout the institution.

It wasn't exactly a new rumor. Ever since the accepted proposal, word had caught like wildfire amongst the exclusively female student body. Opinions mostly split between annoyance at the departure from the school's feminine purity or excited acceptance.

And that'd been months ago. The board, regardless of a more progressive stance as of late, retained their high standards. Seito Academy was highly viewed as an institution, their curriculum including more than just the standard classes, also offering its students more traditional subjects of study. The art of the tea ceremony and classes that bridged the gulf between traditional and modern themes being just a few.

In all that time since the idea had been accepted though, they had only found a handful of male students across the area that fit their desired requirements in areas such as scholastics and traditional values. Even then, the young men still had to get through interviews and aptitude tests, all part of the rigorous screening process with Seito's student counselor.

What had been less than thirty individuals had been reduced…substantially…very substantially…to six.

Seito would move with the times, but standards were standards regardless of gender.

Overall, they'd taken in four first years, one second year, and a third year, being certain to get at least one individual for each grade to get an idea of how the integration would take. It was just a matter of chance that a majority of their slim picking were in first year.

Those chosen were all greatly honored to be the first. For the most part. One individual in particular had been chosen but didn't have much of an opinion either way.

He had been in the middle of his first year in highschool at the time, just…going with the flow. His grades were above average, and though they didn't particularly reflect it, he just wasn't as motivated as most of his class to excel and outdo one another.

He would later learn that one of the reasons he had been selected by the elitist institution was through a ringing endorsement from one of his teachers. Though it didn't hurt his case that the scout had sat in on his class on the day of a rather dicey subject.

The traditional samurai code of honor as it related to modern day life.

Each student had been asked their opinion with encouraged continuations towards those with more interesting answers. Like his own rather unorthodox one. Apparently, the Seito proxy had been intrigued by his outlook. Hitting upon the subject that honor systems currently conformed to the individual based on their predilections, he amended it with the concept that being bound by one's honor unto stagnancy in the face of what was right utterly defeated the purpose of a code meant to keep one on the "righteous path". From there, he'd touched on the subject of shinobi, how they served a person or ideal even at the cost of their honor and/or lives. He'd ended up giving a rousing confession towards an amalgamation of both. That he would abide by a code, but would leave it, to an extent, if it meant that he could do good. And that while samurai did choose to end their lives if dishonored, that he would instead prefer to stay alive, even if alone, to continue to do what good he could while he was alive. Not out of a need for redemption, but because it was right.

The proxy had been inspired by his heartfelt statement, and the strong morals of this individual.

In other words, giving his opinion on a matter had all but sealed his fate.

"So I want you all to welcome your new classmate," the teacher spoke to the 2nd year students. Craning her head to the door, "You can come in now." At her cue, the door opened and he stepped in, met with silence.

To be expected as he didn't overtly fit the bill for your average native unless you looked closer. The differences though got him attention wherever he went, often in thoughts of him being of foreign birth or of mixed parentage. For starters, he was easily six foot in height, and of a lean musculature. Not inordinately tall, but uncommon. Then there was his hair, a shocking mane of sunny blonde that fell in wild spikes. His skin was tan to the point of looking like a stereotypical American surfer. His eyes were a captivating sapphire blue that you could seemingly dive into. And then there were the marks on his cheeks. A trio of scars on either side.

Add that all together and you get a neon sign against a black background. He couldn't help but stand out.

Entering and closing the door behind him, he crossed the room to stand beside the teacher. Bowing, as was customary, "Ohayō gozaimasu, my name is Naruto Uzumaki. Please treat me well." Formality really bored him, but, hey, roll with it. Coming up out of his bow, he gave his sincerest smile.

"Uzumaki-san was selected by the school board as one of the few young men to be offered a place in Seito." Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, the teacher ushered him forward with a kind, if small, smile. "Please, take your seat. There's an open desk near the window," pointing to the sole vacant table and chair two desks back from the front, recently added to the room just a day prior. Thanking her, he strode swiftly past the still very silent girls to his seat, pulling it back as quietly as he could before sitting.

From there the whispers and murmurings began anew, accompanied by many a not-so-subtle glance in his direction.

If not for the fact that he could care less, he'd have long ago been of the opinion that being glaringly different kind of sucked. At least as far as trying to lead an uneventful life was concerned. He didn't know why he was here, now, let alone how, but he was going to milk the relative peace for all it was worth until it ran dry.

Inhaling deeply, he took in the rich, earthy aroma. Fresh, loamy soil, the scent of which consumed him for a brief time.

Releasing a content sigh, he leaned back on his knees.

It was nice here. The elevation and surrounding nature filtered out a lot of the impurities and pollution in the air that tended to annoy him. Tuning it out he could handle it, but when he thought about it the smell would be there in all its glory. But the academy was built off a mountain, surrounded by forest, relieving him with cleaner air.

So, again, it was nice.

Clubs were meant to "enrich" the lives of students. Unofficial classes that students could freely choose between, also meaning that as classes, whichever you chose, they were compulsory.

At first, he'd narrowed his options down to either the Tea Ceremony Club, out of memory to that sadistic snake Jonin, Anko, and the Gardening Club which let him be outside where any other club would not. He had given the Tea Ceremony Club a fair try, but the strict formality and composure of it all had rankled him to no end. It was quiet, the tea was good, but gods…all the rules about "proper posture" and everything.

It'd worn him down.

At least he'd left with a pretty decent ability to brew tea though.

The following week, he signed himself into the Gardening Club and started settling himself in.

"We're calling it a day, Uzumaki-kun." Thoughts broken, head swiveling, he sent the club's second in command an acknowledging smile. "Would you mind helping to put the tools away?"

"Sure thing, Shiryuu-senpai." Rocking back onto the balls of his feet, he stood up, rubbing his hands together to free any remaining dirt, before wiping what was left off against his apron. Everyone was responsible for what they took out of the storage shed, but there were oftentimes more items brought out than there were people to use them.

Chou-un Shiryuu was unofficially considered by many to be a master level swordswoman, hence why she was not a member of the kendo club. Such would not even be considered training, physical or disciplinary, to her. She was the sole sword user of her caliber in the entire school, and would be forced to restrict herself terribly to make up for the shortcomings of whoever she might face in that club.

And so she had joined the Gardening Club, becoming its Vice President by the end of her first year at Seito Academy. It at least offered her the opportunity to train her mind and temperament, learning greater patience. Especially after the subsequent deaths of bonsai-san No.1 and Bonsai-san No.2 from apparent over-trimming. Bonsai-san No.3 had flourished since joining the club, and she was of the opinion that her patience had improved greatly in parallel.

It didn't take long to search the area they'd worked for the occasional forgotten tool and larger supplies. Naruto himself had retrieved two large bags of soil that'd been left unused, unnecessary leftovers or not yet used before time had run out.

"I appreciate your help, Uzumaki-kun."

"No problem, senpai," he excused with a relaxed shrug.

Chou-un noted the ease with which he'd lifted the bags, one in each hand. They were only a little over fifty pounds apiece, and she knew many a person who could lift far heavier, but she still recognized the way he so casually toted them, as if they were pillows. There'd been many an occurrence where he'd shown minor strength above average, but nothing spectacular enough to truly arouse her curiosity. His apparent strength was within normal limits of a hard working normal person, if at the higher end.

Now, if he had a sacred bead… That would be a different story entirely.

Seito had far fewer toushi than almost any other school. Though it did boast powerful ones.

She and Kanu were both considered forces to be wary of.

But, as of yet, there'd been no outward sign of him being a toushi.

Pricy and elite as Seito was, for the students who lived too far away to take the bus line, there was the option of a dorm. For the time being though, the young men, if they'd chosen to accept the proffered placement in Seito, would need to find adequate housing in the town at the base of the mountain.

Naruto himself had found an adequate flat. Nothing too small, just big enough for him. A living room, a small kitchen-slash-dining room, a bedroom and a bathroom. Nothing more than he'd needed, really. A loft apartment in a fair-sized two-story building. There were a total of four apartments, counting the owner's, and the old guy tended to leave everyone to their own devices so long as they didn't start anything. He hadn't met any of his neighbors, not officially, but he was in no hurry. What's more, he'd been talking to the old guy about taking the roof for himself. Nothing much, just some plants to add some green to all the gravel and tar-paper. He'd get to that eventually.

Coming by the money to pay for all of that though…apartment, tuition, and everything… That was something else.

After being accepted, Seito offered the small group of male students a discount on tuition as they were as much test subjects for a potentially co-ed school, as they were students.

But back to his finances…

First off, his mind was set up different from just about anyone else's in its ability to recollect. A side-effect of the seal on his navel keeping his mind safe was that he could actually revisit past memories; something he'd learned in the last year of his…previous life. Recall as in…every observed detail from his perspective at that moment.

It wasn't something he indulged in. A lot of his memories were repressed. With reason. Or, were too sad to visit casually. Even his happier memories had such an effect as being profoundly sad at the same time. He wasn't one to live in the past anyway.

Many times though it proved to be of benefit. Like when he'd discovered just how badly he'd need money to set himself up in this modern world. So it was that he'd come to write up, rewriting actually, the latest two books that Jiraiya had twisted his arm in assisting with. He'd been his proofreader and, in that last one, co-writer, though he found that last part rather embarrassing even still. And, lastly, the one book Jiraiya had written that had practically etched itself into his heart.

Tales of a Gutsy Shinobi.

At the very least that last one was in memory of Jiraiya.

It'd been a long process of transferring what he remembered to paper, but eventually he had the rough manuscripts. And from there, more half-truths.

"They were written by my godfather, the man who took me in, before he died." He remembered explaining to the publisher, a stocky looking man. "He wrote that first one before I was born, and apparently my parents liked it enough to name me after the protagonist. But he never had it published. He never had any of them published." He played it off as needing the money for school and living, but also with the desire to honor his deceased godfather through having his works published.

"And these?"

He remembered blushing up a storm, not entirely staged either. "Those were, um, what he wrote after, while he was raising me."

Icha Icha: Tactics

Icha Icha: Girls' Night Out

The stocky man had been doubtful at first, and yet…

He appraised Tales Of a Gutsy Shinobi as being somewhat idealistic, but a decent read. Something that irked Naruto, treasuring it as he did, while knowing that the book had received similar acknowledgement its first go-'round.

The two Icha Icha's on the other hand… He'd read them, then sent them to the head of their adult literature branch. He'd been practically dragged back into the publisher's office to sign over the publishing rights.

It had to be a curse.

There was no other way that the perverted sannin's ero-literature could be so popular while his more serious one was overlooked.

That, or both of the suits were complete perverts.

As a minor of almost sixteen at the time, even if one that had been legally allowed to live alone and handle his own affairs, he'd still been required to have a lawyer peruse and explain the paperwork before anything could be signed. It helped, a little. Within a month, books were printed and sold under Jiraiya's name by his godson's wishes.

Icha Icha hit the world like an ero-explosion.

…He wasn't proud of that.

And while Tales Of a Gutsy Shinobi didn't get anywhere near the acclaim, he was silently happy that it still got decent sales. He was glad of that, that Jiraiya's message was at least being heard.

For the year since then, he'd been quietly making a tidy sum for himself that he'd deftly hidden away. Some in banks, some invested, some in secret storage seals; one of the few kinds of seals he could actually make.

So long as he didn't go on a ramen bender…very difficult…and lived within his means, he could live comfortably for quite some time without difficulty.

Sitting across from one another, Seito's two strongest were separated by a shin-high table, and, either in hand or atop said table, cups of tea steamed. Her own cup in hand, Seito's swordmistress sipped the well-brewed drink with deliberate slowness. Opposite Shiryuu, Kanu waited patiently.

Cup leaving her lips, but still aloft, "I have done as you asked and kept my eyes open."

Just a figure of speech.

Stormy grey-blue eyes rising from her own drink, "And what have you seen?"

"Of the new students, none that I have seen can be confirmed as toushi." The tan-skinned, long-haired young woman sighed in disappointment at the summation, but accepted it nonetheless. She herself had been observing the new students as well, and could not state different. Seito was a prominent highschool academically. On a less official level, in the world of fighters, it was in the top three with Nanyo and Kyosho. Not being as large as either of its competitors, it held its ground with quality trumping quantity. They had far fewer toushi than the other schools, but what they lacked in quantity they boasted in quality.

The names Kanu Unchou and Chou'un Shiryuu were known and regarded with caution among the other toushi.

"We did expect as much." All due respect to the quantity vs. quality argument, they were always on the lookout for new students that could help protect their leader, Ryuubi Gentoku. Ranked at the highest level of toushi, her actual ability was almost zero. Making her a prime target. "And the boys?"

"The same. No toushi." Though she would continue to observe Uzumaki. He displayed strength that exceeded the norm of the average person, if not by much, but there was an inkling feeling in her gut that said to keep watching him. He wasn't malicious, of which she had no doubt. There was just something profoundly…off…about him that eluded her.

Brow knitting just a tad, evidencing just mild thought on a particular matter, "I will reserve final judgment on Uzumaki-kun though."

Kanu paused in the pouring of a new cup of tea. "2nd year Uzumaki?"

Shiryuu nodded subtly. "Indeed. The gym class at the pool proved that he has more than an appropriate build for a fighter. But I have no other concrete proof, just a feeling." Gym class had been divided into girls and boys. The boys had run laps while the girls swam, and reversed that order on the next day. And while Seito was proud of a certain level of refinement, it didn't stop many of the girls from ogling the small group of males. They were all fairly fit and trim, but Naruto Uzumaki was at the head of the list.

Despite the widely held belief that men were pervs and women were innocent, there were more than a few hungry eyes on the boys during their time in gym class, and especially at the pool. Sad to say…several of the students had taken…pictures. Many of which circulated among the female student body like a secret wildfire. Not that Shiryuu had needed to see any of them, having been in the same class as Naruto. She'd seen the lithe, toned muscles he exhibited. He wasn't ripped like many young men tended to be, trying to gain more and more muscle mass in some unofficial penis measuring contest, but she had no doubts that he was all muscle.

"With no proof of him being a toushi…" Kanu frowned, thumb running around the edge of her cup as she stared into its green depths. "Do you believe he is a threat to Gentoku?"

"No." Kanu looked up in surprise at the rather quick and not to mention definitive answer. "I am unable to say for certain, but he has a certain…quality…that I cannot fathom. Uzumaki-kun is rather…accommodating." Perhaps a better choice of words towards his character than "soft" or "unmotivated." Lazy was a bit strong. So far, he just tended to avoid conflict, on any level.

If he was a toushi though…

Ryuubi was Kanu's greatest priority, no matter how you looked at it. She would sacrifice life and limb protecting her leader. "We both understand how beneficial another toushi would be." Shiryuu nodded. "Let us hope that the gods are with us."

AN/ With some editing help thanks to Vandenbz.