Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. That right goes solely to Masashi Kishimoto
Prologue:
Naruto stumbled yet again, unable to walk straight anymore from blood loss. One of the jounins that hated the nine tails had managed to get a kunai in his side and that's when he'd started running.
He fell to his knees, breathing raggedly as the world began to spin, and then staggered to his feet again and kept going. He had to get to the Hokage's office! He finally fell down and couldn't get up.
He looked around to see himself in a dead end alley and he slumped. He was going to die. It was his end. The end of Naruto Uzumaki. He would never become Hokage. He would never see his friends or sensei again. He was trapped and too weak to move.
He heard the mob come into the alley screaming about demon brats, but he didn't move, he was too weak. He heard a scream and then pain suddenly blasted through his body from his abdomen. He let out a weak cry and blood came from his lips, trickling down his chin.
He cracked open his eyes and saw a glint of something, before he felt pain go across his throat and there was a spray of bright red blood. It poured down his front, staining his clothes red. His throat had been slit.
He supposed he'd always known that this would happen. They hated him. For as long as he could remember, they had hated him with a passion. He only wished that he'd gotten to say goodbye to his friends. That was all.
Blackness, then light. He opened his eyes to find himself on a plane of white. All around was white, completely white. He stood and walked around, was this the pure world? He suddenly saw someone and he walked over to them to ask where he was.
He found himself in front of a man. His raven black hair reached past his waist and was tied into a low ponytail, with two bangs wrapped in tape framing his chin. He had pale skin, just like Sasuke, and delicate features. He looked about twenty and he was simply floating above the ground with his eyes closed. He had on a white and black robe and black pants. The back of the robes had six tomoes on it and long flowing sleeves.
The man opened his eyes and Naruto gasped, for where his eyes were rested two blazing Sharingan, the color of freshly spilled blood. There was black throughout it, dots that rested around a three pronged design, making it look like a galaxy of red and black. He blinked a few times and then stared at Naruto a bit, scrutinizing him with those demonic eyes.
After a few minutes, he spoke in a melodic voice, deep and smooth as honey, "Hello Naruto. I am Indra Otsutsuki, the first wielder of the Sharingan. You are probably wondering what you're doing here?"
"Um, y-yeah, Mr. Otsutsuki. Do you know?"
The man chuckled lightly at his title and then spoke again, "You died, Naruto. You are on the plane between the pure world and the living world. I have come to speak with you."
"Um, well, what do you need?"
"You are a reincarnation, boy, of me. You and I are the same. I can bring you back to life only once, but with changes. You would look more like me and you would have my Sharingan. However, I will not be you, more like you will be me, if that makes any sense. I will give you my memories and abilities and you need only live. I do not like to see young life ended."
Naruto was in shock, "Um, but I'm not an Uchiha. How am I your reincarnation?"
"You don't need to be any certain family to be a reincarnation. Originally, it was thought that your soul would be Ashura's reincarnation, but something mixed it up and I was put in instead."
"I...I guess I understand. Um, is there anything else I need to give you, Mr. Otsutsuki?"
"No, you must simply...live."
"Oh...well, I guess so. Yeah, I'll do it."
"Good, now come closer. Let's get this started."
"Alright."
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