The five students–five transmigrators–returned to their lodgings where they each tried to fall asleep, yet none succeeded.
A couple of them continued to dive deep into their predecessors' memories, like Mori Fūma, a girl who originated from the Fūma Clan–a Clan that existed beyond Konoha's borders. In her memories, she re-lived tales of heartbreak and trauma; at four years old, Mori Fūma watched as her mother was murdered.
From a Shinobi Clan, sure–but that was her father's blood–and the man was a vindictive drunk. Her mother protected him, said he "used to not be like this" and that "he's still in there, trapped in the World War."
Mori couldn't understand it; and when her father stood above her mother, blood splattered along his clothes and cheek–a crazed grin splattered across him–Mori Fūma escaped. After running for a period of time she could not remember clearly, eventually, a Konoha Ninja discovered her.
The Yamanaka searched her brain and she was cleared to live.
Then, she was placed in the Konoha Orphanage. Three years ago, the Orphanage Head submitted her application to the Ninja Academy. The rest depicted training alongside intentional isolationism with spontaneous bursts of emotional highs.
In the end, the new Mori Fūma recalled her own memories with tones of lost sadness. She was sorry for the life the poor girl had to live, sorry for the circumstances of the world that put her there.
Mori Fūma was very familiar with the Naruto plotline. In the old world, she had two younger brothers. Their favorite activity–and time Kat wished she could live again–was when they first watched Naruto together. Everyday. Before school. It played like clockwork.
Mori smiled. Tiny. Bittersweet.
Her brother's would have loved this.
Then, she thought of the future. Her new future.
Minato Namikaze's face was not on the Hokage Rock yet–and according to her new memories–the Third Shinobi World War was yet to even happen.
Moreover, the world's savior–Naruto Uzumaki–wasn't even a thought yet.
Obito was still alive and Orochimaru had not defected.
Hell, Kakashi might even be happy.
At that, Mori Fūma snickered, but then she remembered another major plot-point. Was Sakumo Hatake still alive?
Too many questions. Certainly, Mori Fūma would never get to sleep.
Meanwhile, not far from Mori's apartment, Ando Kaze nestled within his.
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy did much the same as the girl. He remembered his life and what it was before him.
Ando Kaze. Typical orphan. Civilian parents. Father worked in a tool repair shop. Mother was a servant turned runaway from a local Fire Lord. His family–then pregnant mother–fled from the Lord's domain and retreated into the heart of Konoha. His father died young from lung disease–likely from a life inside the tool shop. And his mother–bless her heart–only made it two years after his birth.
Ando Kaze thanked them in his heart–for the life that they had led and for the struggles that they endured–all so that he could live now. Ando Kaze did not want to forget them. They may not have been his real parents, but without them, there would be no him.
Luckily, Ando was also familiar with the plot of Naruto. Perhaps even more so than Mori.
He had watched, re-watched, and binged the show countless times throughout his educational career. Naruto was his favorite show as a child, after all–and he had seen it so many times that by then–it was nice background noise with vibrant, beautiful colors.
In addition to having seen it more times than Ando Kaze could count–the boy, then teen, had even dabbled in fanfiction. Not many. Not thousands. Not even ten.
But he had read one about a Wind Calamity and another about a Hyuga–both with a plot that took place before the Naruto main storyline. That was everything.
If he could save Minato, if he could save the Uchiha–if he could make a difference–Ando Kaze would be thrilled. Though, the boy still knew that the path forward would be arduous. He'd possibly even die, but hell, hadn't he already died once already?
If he had already reincarnated once, then had he already died once? And if so, then was death just a reincarnation loop? Then what was there to hesitate about?
Elsewhere, Okuda Tomomori imagined himself wielding the Flying Thunder God, the Sharingan, the Byakugan–anything and everything his mind could fathom. The boy simply could not wait to experience and utilize ninjutsu for himself.
Natsuko Sarutobi and Sen Aburame, however, did not return to empty apartments like the others.
Their parents were dead. That much was a shoo-in.
Their Clans, however, were not.
Natsuko Sarutobi–a pretty girl with hazel hair up in pig-tails, brown eyes, and rosy cheeks–returned to the Sarutobi Clan estate right as the gates were closing. As she approached the two guards (other Sarutobi), memories of past interactions with the two immediately flourished in her mind.
In the following instance, Natsuko picked up her pace and smiled cheerfully towards the two guards in front of her.
"Uncle Kunio! Good to see you!" She burst out.
She ran forwards and into the guard's arms, giving him a big ol'hug.
"Thanks for holding the gate for me, I made some new friends at school today!" Natsuko Sarutobi said.
The guard stiffened. Proud. He looked down at the unfortunate Sarutobi orphan–the whole Clan knew of her, knew her parents–and were devastated when they passed. The Second Shinobi World War claimed too many lives. None could argue that.
"Just doing my duties." The guard Kunio responded. Then, the man stepped aside.
Natsuko Sarutobi brushed past him and quickly followed her old footsteps to her single cottage found on the outskirts of the Clan grounds. She had a garden in the front yard with carrots, potatoes, and squash. A clothes-line swung from one corner of the cottage to a tree a few breaths away.
It was a simple, wooden, two-room cottage, plus kitchen and bathroom. In other words, more than enough for a lone bachelorette such as herself.
The cottage was actually her mothers, and after her passing, the Clan decided it should stay in her hands rather than rot unaccompanied. So, Natsuko Sarutobi burst through the front door of her little home and began immediately rummaging through the place.
Six kunai. Two ration pills. Ten shuriken. A roll of gauze plus medical tape. And a half-filled basket of potatoes and leaks.
Suddenly, Natsuko's eyes glinted.
She bolted across the kitchen and flew to her bedroom. She slid across the ground and frantically assaulted her pillow. Within the pillow's lining, she pulled out an old and battered scroll.
Still on the floor, Natsuko Sarutobi unfurled the scroll.
Concealed within, the girl gazed greedily at the words that now slowly spilled out of her pillowcase.
"D-Rank: Fire Release: Flaming Breath."
"C-Rank: Earth Release: Mud Clone."
Natsuko's eyes sparkled like the diamonds she pictured before her now.
With such a discovery, how could she possibly waste time on sleep?
Sen Aburame, meanwhile, laid in his bed in the dark. For hours now, he could hear a ringing in the back of his head. Honestly, it was like someone taped an iPhone to the inside of his skull and then set it to vibrate. Constantly.
Back when Sen had first awoken within Classroom 2A, he had begun to divvy through his old memories, then frantically stopped.
"THESE MOTHER-FUCKERS PUT BUGS IN ME??!!!"
It was the first thing he remembered.
Not the world or his upbringing. Not his parents death or the fact that mystical, magical energy now coursed through him.
NO.
It was the bugs. The procedures.
The nightmares.
Sen Aburame still shivered each and every time he tried to recall something. He was wary. Paranoid that he'd have to see it all over again. Thankfully, it was getting easier.
With each and every moment re-lived, Sen found solace in the place he now called home. Both body and world.
Sen Aburame turned over in his bed.
He could live with the bugs, but Jesus Christ–something had to be done about the buzzing!