Re; Naruto

Reincarnation or Transmigration?

A/N: 

This story will mention heavy topics like politics, organized crime, attempt forced transitioning, child manipulation, adult preying on children, broken families, suicide or attempt of suicide, situations of dubious consent, child abuse, child neglect, and many other uncomfortable topics that could trigger the reader.

If you happen to know someone in such a situation, please lend a hand and if that is impossible, an ear can be of tremendous help to the victim.

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The last thing he remembered was dying. Well, it wasn't that shocking, really. It was expected. Beside, with his age being as old as he was, Nanadaime Hokage Uzumaki Naruto had long expected death. He had outlived many of his friends and comrades due to his Uzumaki lineage. Though he had worked for peace all his life, history has a nasty habit of repeating. Well, not repeat. Rather a rhythm existed beyond his control.

So he had stepped onto the battlefield for one final time...

So when the retired Hokage and celebrated hero of 4th Shinobi War finally succumb due to age, he barely noticed being carried on the back of his son as they rushed him back to Konoha as they flee from the battlefield. He slowly grew colder as his life slipped away from him. He remembered whispering his final order to his listening son to not seek revenge in his name. He didn't want his final legacy being the return of the cycle of hatred. So no matter how hard and painful and unfair it would be, he never wanted his life's work to end with his death.

He whispered with his final breath for his children to endure. Endure the hatred and injustice he knew well will fester in their heart. He wanted peace and the first step to that was forgiveness. That was his final words to them.

Naruto knew nothing after that...

So why, when he sneezed, he woke up in the hospital room?

Naruto blearily opened tired blue eyes and looked around. He looked up and found a strange name attached to his usual name; Naruto Tempest. He frowned as he sat up before noticing the lack of joint pain that had been troubling him in his later years. Looking down, he noticed with subdued shock as his smooth hands. Not the hands of a child but definitely not the hands of an elder that had threaded the waters of a century. But the palms were definitely not his palms.

Sure, the creases and lines on the palms were same from his memory but they're...soft, too soft. Not the hands of a warrior that toiled for skills in weaponry. The calluses that had built up from the numerous training he forced his body through were gone, smoothened. His knuckles lacked those same calluses built from Taijutsu training. The little nicks and scars that had mapped his hands were gone. At the size of his hands, he knew he should have some scars from mishandling his shuriken and kunai.

Yet...the only scars he found were...

Naruto paled as the sight of bandaged around his wrists and the twinges of pain from stitches. Naruto knew injuries and how to read the history behind a scar. He had come across suicide corpses during his early careers, unfortunately, during his travel with Jiraiya across the Elemental Nations. He had seen suicide patients during his tenure as Hokage.

He had thoughts of suicide during his younger years when the pain of being alone threatened to consume his sanity...

Naruto never succumb to the intrusive thoughts, though. To him, suicide was to give up. That way lays the path of a true loser. He was competitive by nature, even towards himself. He refused to lose, especially to life. If he has the energy, he would refuse to lose to even death. Naruto took off the IV drips from his arm and climbed off the bed, frowning at the weight that threatened to trample him. He fought against that weight and stumbled his way to the door that he could only assume lead to the bathroom.