A Nonsensical Situation

"He's over here!—"

'Huh..? Who's over where?'

"—Just stay calm, the iryo-nin will be here soon."

'My eyes are heavy...'

"Hey c'mon, try to stay awake. You can't fall asleep now."

'I'm so tired… Shut up already.'

"We're losing him, dammit! Where is that iryo-nin? We need him here now! C'mon, stay with me! Stay with me! Hey!—"

'Just a little bit of rest…'

~~~

The white tiles of the ceiling stared back at him. He lowered his gaze slowly and warily. He lifted his hands and brought them into his field of view. They were wrapped entirely in clean, white bandages, leaving no trace of skin to be seen, but he could still feel the blisters beneath. His hands hurt, but the pain was not what stole his attention.

His gaze remained glued to his left hand, on what had been made of it. Where there should have been five fingers, only four remained. Beyond the knuckle, the ring finger was absent to a place unknown to him.

'What..?'

Apart from the throbbing headache, he was impaired by delirium. He neither understood where he was nor how he got there. The missing finger was equally confounding. The questions mounting in his mind were overwhelming, and as he examined himself, his breathing hitched.

'My hands… They're too small. Everything is.'

He wiggled the toes of his right foot under the blanket and took measure of his legs. There was no doubt that he was smaller than before, as though he'd been transformed back into a twelve-year old.

He forcefully shut his eyes and opened them a moment later. He was still tiny, and his finger was still missing. He did it again, but all remained as it was. The feeling of his pounding heart was a constant reminder that he was not dreaming.

His breathing became erratic. He tossed off the blanket that covered his legs and stumbled to his feet. Out of his bed and taking stock of the room, he confirmed what he'd already assumed; he was in a hospital.

He hobbled towards a sink in the corner of the room. His left leg was significantly disabled, numb and unresponsive, a fact which would have greatly concerned him had the shock of a missing finger not already squandered whatever care that he may have had for his condition. He was forced to rely upon his right leg to reach the sink without falling.

With every step, a shot of pain assailed his abdomen, which was just as thoroughly bandaged as his hands.

He grabbed the edges of the sink to hold himself up and stared at the reflection in the mirror above. He fumbled for the handle of the faucet and splashed his face with the water that flowed out. The image in the mirror did not change.

'What is happening to me..?'

He did not recognize the kid in the mirror. His hair was long, reaching past his shoulders, and as blue as the sky. His eyes where black and pierced his soul as he gazed into them. This was not him; of this, he was absolutely positive.

He tightened his grip on the edges of the sink as his new reality set it. He searched for the feeling of his ring finger on the cold ceramic of the sink but came back with nothing; it would never be coming back, try as he might. He would accept it with time.

He heard a door slide open to his right.

"Oh, you're awake? You shouldn't be up and walking around in your condition though, sir," a young nurse said as she entered the room, "Please, lay back down. More than anything, your body needs rest. It's still healing."

The nurse gently grabbed his arm and helped him back to the bed. He did not need to rely so much on his right leg this time. His mind, meanwhile, was occupied by the words that he heard, yet somehow understood.

'Japanese,' he recognized. He did not speak the language, yet he understood the nurse's words perfectly well — a fact for which he was relieved. The difficulty of a language barrier would only be another unnecessary burden on his mind.

After he laid down, the nurse draped the blanket back over his legs and torso.

"It's good to see that you're okay enough to be moving around, but please try to remain in bed for a little while longer," she said. She stared into his eyes and said nothing else.

Seeing that she was awaiting a response of some kind, he nodded his head. "I understand." The Japanese came out as easy as it came in.

It was the first time he spoke, and the voice was as he expected — that of a preteen, and not one he was familiar with.

She smiled. "Thank you. I was only coming to check up on you, but seeing as your awake, would you like something to eat? You must be starving after so many days asleep."

In the turmoil of his predicament, he had not noticed the pangs of hunger that were now clearly present. Indeed, he was as starving as the nurse suggested.

"Yes, thank you," he said while keeping his eyes fixed on his short legs.

"Alright. I'll be right back with some food. The doctor who oversees you will come by shortly now that you're awake. Please, wait a moment." With those words, she departed the room to parts of the hospital unknown.

A short while later, the nurse reappeared with a tray in hand. After asking him to sit upward, she carefully laid it on his lap.

"Eat slowly. The doctor will swing by in a bit." She soon left again.

He looked at the meal that had been placed in his lap. It consisted of a bowl of rice and a glass of water. It could barely be called a meal, but he was too hungry to care. He ate it all the same.

For as long as he could, he put off the chaotic thoughts that danced through his mind. Instead, he distracted himself solely with the task of eating. He was utterly lost in his current situation and feared whatever answers he may stumble across by pondering on it for too long.

'Am I ever going ho—' he began a thought but quickly squashed it and continued eating the rice.

He was procrastinating the issue, but the rice was not infinite. When he inevitably finished the last of it, he listlessly stared at the bottom of the bowl, and all of the thoughts he kept at bay washed over him at once — a flurry of unending questions. More than anything, he was left in a state of disbelief at the absurdity of the situation he had somehow stumbled into. Nobody could have prepared him for the day that we would be displaced into the body of a stranger.

"Reiko-kun, it's good to see that you've awoken. The nurse told me you were walking?" The voice of a man came from the direction of the door, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Yes," he, Reiko, said, 'but that is not my name.'

The man donning white hospital scrubs stepped closer to Reiko's bed. He was middle-aged with buzzed hair and round spectacles. Reiko figured him to be a high school history teacher more so than a doctor.

"That's surprising, considering…" The doctor's words trailed off.

"Considering?" Reiko eyed him curiously.

"Ah, considering your injuries," he finished, "You're fortunate to be alive."

"I see."

Reiko considered inquiring into the circumstances of his hospitalization but didn't for two reasons: it would be foolish to place himself under suspicion by demonstrating his ignorance, and he really didn't care all that much — knowing didn't change his circumstances.

In this situation of stolen identity, he wasn't comfortable playing amnesia. It wasn't a condition he was overtly familiar with, and he was sure experienced doctors would be able to see through his shoddy show of deceit with ease.

The life he now led was one of a cosmic anomaly, and he would have to deal with problems in stride. And if it ends with his head on a pike, then so be it. Perhaps, with some luck, his death may just return him to his rightful body. Though, the idea that he would be killed if he was made was not one he took too seriously. After all, it was the 21st century, and that would be awfully barbaric.

"How was your leg when you walked?" The doctor asked.

"Useless," Reiko said curtly.

"That's to be expected. The nerve damage was considerable, but not to worry, with a bit of rehabilitation and medical expertise, we'll have you back in the field in no time."

'Back in the field?' Reiko considered the meaning of those words. With his age in mind, it was likely that the doctor was referring to a sports field of some kind. Baseball, perhaps?

"How am I supposed to get back in the 'field' with a missing finger?" Reiko was casually fishing for information and didn't expect much from it.

The doctor gave him a motivational smile and thumbs up. "Not to worry. Plenty of shinobi have made excellent careers with missing digits. Some missing even more—"

Reiko's mind froze at that moment and words ceased to reach him. That one word was a wrench that had been tossed into the gears of his mind, grounding him to a halt.

"—so don't worry. With some effort, you can still be a splendid shinobi of the Leaf."

After reaching greater heights of incredulity, Reiko whirred back to life. He wanted to laugh at the sheer silliness of it. It was as though God was playing the universe's greatest prank on him.

"…I'm relieved to hear that," Reiko said.

"Then, please bear with me as I have you go through a small examination."

~~~

As dusk arrived and the sun began to dip beyond the horizon, Reiko stood before the sole window of the hospital room. He stared at the mountain in the distance, and the four faces carved into the mountainside seemed to stare back.

All he did was look. Panic, sorrow, fear, joy — all of it was lost on him. In this moment, this ridiculous, unbelievable moment, with his hands resting on the windowsill and his gaze settled on the Hokage monument in the distance, all he could do was look.

[Your predecessor has seen you, and you have seen him. The Tobirama System has been activated.]