Disclaimer: Kishimoto is the owner of Naruto.
Edited by: LORDANTAS
How do you react when you open your eyes and find yourself standing in a very simple wooden room with a single messy white bed? Usually, this would be a confusing first emotion, but my head registered the more gruesome details previously omitted after the initial look.
Like a bleeding body next to the bed and a large, scaly, maimed body spread all over the floor, the warm blood flowing like a river touching my toes.
It was no surprise that my legs gave out.
But that only made matters even worse.
It drenched my body and clothes with the river of death on the floor; my hands could tell the texture of the blood as it lost temperature and went through the process of solidification on my skin.
I brought up both hands and stared at the pure red liquid dripping onto my legs.
I didn't have any voice left in me, and I could only look at a mixture of disbelief and shock. Hearing my heartbeat pounding my chest like a drum and forming a tight knot around my throat prevented me from refreshing my lungs, which demanded air.
But my torture didn't end, and when pain invaded my head, it loosened the knot enough to allow me to scream at everything that was bottling up inside me. However, even with the absurd amount of agony I was in, I could understand something; I could somehow see through my suffering how my mind was being forced into images after images of the reason the pain was so barely passable.
But my body, myself, had a limit.
And my vision finally went dark, yet even in the darkness that engulfed me, I felt warm, a warm feeling that comforted me, as if I was inside a bed ready to sleep.
And it was nice.
However, that was a very short-lived moment.
Or perhaps it wasn't; waking up from unconsciousness in the afflicted perspective felt like a blink.
The light in my eyes returned, but not immediately. First, everything was blurry, and there was slight resistance from as the light slightly hurt my vision. Moments later, they adapted, and I found myself staring at the monotone grey ceiling barely illuminated by a lamp for a long while.
The surface where I was lying felt different from before. It was no longer warm but sticky, and every time I tried to move, I felt like they glued me to it. The worst part was not even a couple of minutes before being attacked again with the same headache that caused me to lose consciousness.
My hands wanted me to rip apart my head and skull to stop somehow the agony that was happening inside.
Before, I endured, but now I was openly crying, my hands drenched with my tears of impotence because there was so much a person could take before succumbing to despair.
If living was going to be eternal suffering, then why live in the first place?
Despite being perfectly aware that suicidal thoughts weren't healthy, I couldn't care less; that pain was just that horrible until it disappeared
I didn't understand how it left, but with the pain no longer making me go suicidal, my mind could get some clarity to understand, to grasp my reality around me again.
And noticed a man above me with long silver hair was looking down at me through his round glasses; his hand was glowing; that hand was touching my forehead. Somehow I could understand. With all my thoughts in disarray, I could realize that it was thanks to him I was no longer in pain.
"Kabuto…" I muttered. I recognized him and knew about him in so many aspects, but that didn't matter because the correct question to ask was, what was I doing next to him?
How could he even exist?
"Who am I talking to?" He asked.
However, I did not answer him. Instead, I grabbed his wrist, stopping him from what he was doing, and almost immediately, the pain returned, but with a lot less intensity. It was bearable, and I could compare it with a hangover at most.
"Who are you?" He insisted.
I was getting the picture, understanding what was happening to me, and I knew what I needed to say next to that man.
"I'm myself and nobody else."
"Is...is he dead?" His voice failed him as he looked at me with wide eyes filled with despair.
I dragged myself up from the floor and tried to shake the dust from my clothes, but dried blood was outright impossible to dust off, and despite the shitty situation, my lips split into a smile when our eyes connected.
"Isn't that obvious?" My reply sent Kabuto on his knees in an instant, his eyes became empty, and his body lost his soul with all the support that could drive him forward in life.
I examined him while I circled him; he was indeed Kabuto Yakushi.
The headache accompanied by distorted images assaulted again my mind, but there was one thing that stuck out from the rest.
I couldn't tell, but my hands went to my waist and grabbed a handle, and pulled. My hands unconsciously acted according to that idea, revealing a blade in all of its glory.
An exceptionally beautifully crafted katana.
I looked at my weapon and then at the pathetic form of Kabuto one more time before my muscles moved and delivered a swift slash towards his neck.
He didn't move or even react.
One swift and clean-cut sent his head flying with a trail of blood following, his body collapsing on the floor as blood flowed like a river repainting the area of red once again.
I executed him.
But I wasn't feeling different; much to my utter confusion, soon turned into fear because I couldn't understand myself.
I sat there on the spot alone.
Drowned in my thoughts, who knows how long I spent inside that room with the stench of the dead becoming more potent by the minute after the addition of a new fresh body.
But at that time, I could finally organize everything for my better understanding, but I needed confirmation to satisfy my doubts. But after another look at my surroundings, I found nothing that could work as a mirror.
Until I remembered my katana on my waist. Without thinking about it twice, I unsheathed it again, cleaned it with my robes, and tried to see my reflection, but it was too dark. There were two lamps, one next to the humanoid body of Orochimaru, and the other was above me.
I stood up and walked towards the bed, but I stopped right next to it when I noticed the corpse was giving me creeps. I had to drag the body next to Kabuto's before returning to the bed and taking a seat; the illumination was different.
And when I brought up the katana again, I could see the reflection of my body without issue, so without wasting more time, I shifted the position of my blade to see my face finally.
In front of me, a pair of onyx eyes stared back at me, a black spiky with bangs that hung on both sides of my fair-skinned face that roughly framed my cheeks.
I could only recall those exact physical characteristics from one particular character.
But how in the world did I end up as Sasuke Uchiha?
More questions that required an immediate answer, but with all those memories finally settling down, the whole scenario made sense.
Sasuke had physically killed and spiritually defeated Orochimaru, me.
The next thing to do was to look for my future team, who I would use to track down Itachi and then kill him.
While it sounded easy enough, the execution would be complicated, to say at least, starting with those three who might notice something amiss.
And Itachi would notice it right away.
I would be in deep shit.
I needed to adapt fast and recover before trying anything. The killer headache was a significant problem, but not understanding my body's new functions, such as chakra, was a more serious issue.
I didn't know any place where I could adequately recover. Orochimaru hideouts weren't an option since he was dead, and eventually, others would come to raid and ransack the locations.
Towns would draw unnecessary attention.
And ninja villages would be problematic to deal with.
However, Konoha wanted me back.
Such a simple fact gave me enough foundation to work on.
Besides, Naruto had a strange but stupid obsession with me about being his best and only friend, so he would do everything in his power to help me re-integrate the village as smoothly as possible, along with Sakura.
Once there, I could solve a couple of my problems and get some proper rest, and hopefully, I could get Tsunade to heal my headache.
It was a rather good plan, and the execution was simple as well, but it all depended on a chance, a possibility of how they would react to my sudden arrival; even with Naruto's help, it all would ride on Tsunade herself.
I did not know what to do.
I remained confused about waking up and hijacking Sasuke's body; if it weren't such a violent awakening and suffering, then I probably would have been excited about the whole thing.
I laid down on the messy bed and stretched my arms, soon realizing how tired I felt after the entire ordeal; even if there were corpses next to me, my mind didn't seem to care or be bothered about those grim facts. I only wanted a quick rest before going forward about what I wanted to do next.
But I was sure of one thing. I would not waste such a chance.
Who knew what was lying ahead of me?
It intrigued me, to say at least.
AN: I shouldn't be doing this honestly speaking, It is not good to create a new story when you already have one ongoing but what can I say?
Well, I can say that the next update for the other story is coming soon and that this one is more like a side project to have fun with common tropes that I won't be implementing in my other story or at least in vast amounts that this one.
This is kinda like a test.
This won't be so focused on schemes and all the complicated stuff, it will be more easy-going and I will be having a bit of fun with messing with an OP MC from the start.