The orange sun cast glimmers across the blue ocean, shining like scattered diamonds. The water stretched endlessly, a vast blue void, with no land in sight in any direction. There was only the sky, the drifting clouds, and the ocean that deep, endless abyss filled with countless unknowns.

  Within that abyss, one lone object bobbed and floated: a large barrel. It looked like an old cargo barrel, but its contents were far from ordinary. Inside was no mere cargo, but a person, a person who would go on to change not only those around him, but himself and the world.

  Inside the barrel was a boy no older than seventeen. He had snow-white, silver hair, silky and smooth, yet spiky and wild at the same time. His hair fanned around him inside the barrel, long enough to reach the middle of his back if he were standing. Curled up tightly, he wore no shirt, his toned muscles a testament to hard work and discipline.

  A thin black string hung around his neck, holding a yellow object tightly pressed against his back. When it shifted, it sprang forward effortlessly, snapping back as if mocking gravity itself. It was a straw hat. A simple, worn thing, ordinary to anyone else, but not to him. Even still, it felt alive, a quiet emblem of who he was and the adventures waiting beyond the horizon.

  Strapped across his chest was a leather belt holding a sheath, but not for a sword or an axe. Instead, it carried a bent metal pipe, shaped to fit the cramped space he was trapped in. He wore dark green cargo shorts with zipped pockets and a pair of simple, practical sandals.

  Yet nothing about this boy was ordinary. Not even close.

  The first hint was the pair of fox ears perched atop his head, soft, furry, twitching at every sound. Stranger still, the human ones below them worked just fine, too. It was... weird, even by pirate standards. But somehow, it fit him.

  His face was handsome, but what stood out most were the three whisker-like marks etched into each cheek, sharp, defined lines that looked almost carved in. His eyes were a royal blue, glowing faintly in the dim light, each one with a slit pupil like a beast staring out from within.

  That boy was Naruto.

  “Wow… I can’t believe it. I’m really out of my hometown already,” he said to himself, voice filled with excitement. “This is incredible! I’m finally doing what the Pirate King did! I’m finally out to sea!”

  It wasn’t quite how he imagined it, of course. Bouncing lightly within the barrel, he laughed to himself. He stretched and twisted inside the cramped space, the perks of being rubber, he guessed. Though this was hardly comfortable. It was either that or drown at the bottom of the ocean, and frankly, he had better things to do than die here.

  “Heh… kuhahaha!” Naruto laughed at his own predicament. “Man, who’d have thought I’d get attacked by the Lord of the Coast before I even left home? That’s hilarious!”

  He grinned, carefree and wild, the kind of grin that came from a heart unburdened, even if his past was anything but light.

  “I’ll take this over what I’ve been through any day,” he muttered. “Can’t wait to see what adventures and what people I’ll meet”.

  Minutes passed. He was still smiling, though boredom soon began to creep in. His grin faded into a frown. Salt seeped through the barrel's cracks, clinging to his nose. The waves rocked him, each jolt humming through the wood. Only a thin layer separated him from the endless sea. The thought sent a rush through his veins. The village was behind him; danger and freedom lay ahead.

  “Man, I’m so bored!” he yelled. “When’s a ship gonna come by? Or land? Something! At least on a boat I can look at birds! Out here, it’s just blue, blue, blue!”

  He groaned, slumping inside the barrel like a sulking child. “There’s gotta be something I can do to pass the time…” He scrunched up his face in deep concentration. Then suddenly, his expression lit up.

  “Oh yeah! How could I forget? It was only like an hour ago!”

  He stretched an arm toward his shorts, unzipped one of the pockets, and pulled out a small book and a few pens. “Lucky me,” he said with a grin. “Thought I'd have to stretch my other arm from that weird angle... would've been way harder”.

  His excitement softened. Naruto leaned back in the barrel, the sea rocking him in slow rhythm. The little diary rested on his knees, worn soft at the corners. He ran a thumb across the cover. It smelled faintly of soap and something sweeter than Makino's perfume. The scent drifted up, pulling a thread loose in his chest, and with it came a warmth that felt like a lifeline across the vast ocean.

  Makino...

  ***************

  The memory unspooled as naturally as the tide.

  “Wait, Naruto! Don’t leave just yet!” Her voice rang clear in his mind, bright and breathless, the way it had that morning on the docks.

  A woman with soft green hair ran out from the bar, eyes full of worry. Naruto turned, his pipe strapped across his back, a small pack slung over his shoulder.

  “What is it, Makino? C’mon, adventure won’t wait!” Naruto said with his usual grin.

  “I know,” she replied, catching her breath. “But you’ll get bored on your trip, so... here.”

  She handed him a small book with the word written on the cover.

  Naruto blinked, then frowned. “Makino, I’m not a girl. I don’t need a diary. And I’m not writing in yours! That’s just weird!”

  He realized too late what he’d just said. The air around Makino grew cold and dangerous.

  “What… did you just say?” she said in a low, deadly tone as she stepped closer. Naruto froze. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his legs wouldn’t move.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  A second later WHAM!

  Her infamous “Godhammer Punch” slammed down on his head, leaving a massive bump.

  “Sorry…” Naruto muttered, rubbing his head.

  “Diaries aren’t just for girls,” Makino said firmly. “They help you heal. They help you remember your thoughts, your feelings, your journey. You’re not going to remember every adventure, and I don’t want you to forget where you came from, or who you are”.

  She placed her hand gently over his chest. “I see you as a little brother, a stupid one, but a brother all the same. So promise me you’ll write in it, even if it’s just a few lines a day. Don’t forget us... please”. Her voice trembled, eyes glistening with tears.

  Naruto felt his throat tighten. All the pain, all the loss, everything he’d carried hit him all at once.

  “All right,” he said quietly. “I’ll do it. I’ll make time for it. And when I come back… I’ll tell you all about my adventures”.

  That memory was still fresh. So many had died protecting him, a useless sack of crap, as he once called himself. But he refused to let their memories fade. Even if his words only lived on paper, at least they’d exist somewhere.

  He stared at the little diary, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The pages smelled faintly of Makino's perfume, warm, familiar, grounding.

  “All right,” he said softly. “Guess this is where my story really begins”.

  He dipped the pen into the ink and pressed it to the page.

  The first drop of ink bled into white, and the adventure began. The subtle creak of the barrel wood reminded him he was utterly alone, but the scent of perfume was a whisper telling him otherwise.

  ***********

  [The Isekai Pirates]

  [Prologue Arc]

  Hey guys! I’m Riker — yep, the author of this story (shocker, I know ??). First off, thanks a ton if you actually made it through this chapter. I really tried to make it not just fun to read, but also a little twisty, something that might surprise you.

  If you liked it, there’s way more coming! I’m planning to drop chapters every Monday, so you can expect the next one on the 27th. I don’t want to spoil too much, but trust me, I’ve got some really cool stuff in the works that I think you’ll enjoy.

  Stick around, alright? I really believe this story can go somewhere awesome. And again, seriously — thanks for reading!

  — Riker

  Hello to myself. Nah, that's pretty corny. If anyone's reading this, maybe it's my crewmates, or perhaps it's the Marines that captured me. If it's the Marines, get out of here. This is for my crew's eyes and nobody else's.

  Reincarnation wasn't on my bingo card. One second, I was on a boat; the next, it was tilting, groaning, and taking on water. Rain lashed my face, cold and sharp, stinging my eyes. The wind ripped at my clothes, and the world was nothing but darkness and the deafening roar of the storm.

  My mind flickered to another day, an old memory of rusted pipes, scattered trash, and stray cats, but that memory felt like it was miles away. Mostly, it reminded me of Mito. She had always been the light I wasn't: endlessly optimistic, seeing good where I saw only calculation and pain. I wanted that hope. I needed it. But I couldn't summon it, and that failure burned through me. My anger, my guilt... they were all I had. Without them, what am I?

  Then, without warning, everything shifted.

  Shapes emerged from the chaos. My vision blurred, but I could just make out someone holding me, her voice trembling, whispering words I couldn't yet understand. I didn't know her. Not yet.

  And then, darkness swallowed me.

  When I came to, the world was still spinning, but solid beneath my fingers. Sand. Warm, rough, grounding. We had landed. I tasted salt in the air and heard faint voices in the distance, carrying a strange rhythm of life that was foreign yet welcoming.

  Foosha Village.

  That name had no weight yet, but it meant one thing: I wasn't going back. My fists clenched. The anger I had carried for so long surged anew, not the blind, childish fury from my old life, but something sharper, tethered to survival and the promise of this new world.

  It took me two years to understand the language, which sucked. But once I got it, I learned my caretaker's name, Kurama. She wasn't my real mother, but she might as well have been. She's no longer with me now, but I can remember her clearly.

  What shocked me most was that she wasn't the Nine-Tailed Fox I had once subjugated. She... looked human. Almost, if it weren't for the sharp fox ears perched on top of her head, twitching as if sensing me.

  Her hair caught the sunlight, burning orange at the roots and fading into deep red tips, like a dawn threatening to set the sky on fire. And maybe that's why I thought of her as my dawn. She was... different, powerful, untouchable, and somehow patient enough to teach me everything I needed to know. The dry, baking heat of the beach sand seemed to intensify around her.

  A sword hung at her hip, sleek and unfamiliar, gleaming faintly with a promise I didn't yet understand. She wore barely anything, just enough to make the heat of the sun touch her skin, but that wasn't what drew me.

  Her nine tails swayed behind her with graceful precision, each movement deliberate, like a predator aware of every corner of its territory.

  When she looked at me, her red eyes were swollen from tears, glimmering with vulnerability before she wiped them away. And yet, that same gaze carried dominance, a force I wanted to challenge and obey at the same time. This wasn't the Kurama I had once known. Not even close.

  My old Kurama? I had destroyed his consciousness. He gave me no choice; he would have taken over my body and destroyed everything I had built. And besides... that fox didn't know anything. At least, I don't want to admit that he might have been right. This Kurama never tried to take over my mind. She just tried to teach me how to hold a sword.

  And I got her killed, too.

  She taught me how to read and write, not realizing I already knew how. I played along, letting her think I was a genius. Not gonna lie, the praise felt good. Back in my old life, I didn't get much of that.

  Around that time, I met a very old Marine. He became my grandfather. His name was Garp.

  Kurama and Garp did not have a great relationship. They constantly bickered, which usually ended with one of them getting knocked out, often Kurama. Garp was strong. I could sense it from the first moment I met him. He left his grandson with us: Luffy. Luffy would become my brother, but something happened... something I'm not ready to talk about yet. I need time.

  Luffy didn't ask for permission. He didn't wait for me to finish reading or make sense of the world through Kurama's books. He simply tugged at my sleeve, eyes wide, grin as reckless as the sea. At first, I resisted. I liked the safety of walls, the certainty of pages, the quiet rhythm of my own thoughts.

  But Luffy had other plans.

  The forest loomed ahead, alive with smells I had never noticed before: damp earth, pine resin, the faint tang of salt carried from the ocean. Birds darted through the branches, and somewhere, water trickled over stone, a gentle sound that made the forest feel alive. Luffy ran ahead, fearless, laughing as if the trees themselves were his playground.

  I followed cautiously, stepping over roots and rocks, my hand brushing against moss, feeling its rough softness against my palm.

  As we walked, he chattered endlessly about the Blue Star world, the Grand Line, and pirate concepts so wildly different from my old ninja life that my head spun. Ninjas existed here, too, apparently, but only on islands outside the World Government's control.

  Rules... what rules?

  The thought made me smirk despite myself. This world was chaotic, untamed, and maybe... perfect.

  By the time we emerged onto a small clearing, my chest felt lighter than it had in years. For the first time since I arrived, I laughed not loud, not heroic, but small, real.

  The anger that had burned for so long still lingered, a shadow at the edges, but it no longer dictated every step I took. My sadistic tendencies... they didn't vanish overnight, of course.

  But with Luffy, the world felt like something I could touch, something I could survive in, and maybe... something I could begin to enjoy.