The World of Kunoichi Chapter 1 (Patreon)

Unknown, Afternoon

The sun hung high, heavy and oppressive over the clearing, its warmth beating down on the small patch of uneven earth that struggled to pass as a field.

A young teenage boy stood in the middle of it, knuckles white as he gripped the handle of a worn wooden hoe. Sweat tracked through the dust on his forehead, matting his black hair, while the fierce afternoon light had already begun to bake his bronze skin several shades darker. He shifted uncomfortably in the old Japanese-style robes—the fabric was coarse, faded, and riddled with patches that didn't quite match. They were clearly not made for someone his size, but they were the only clothes he had.

With a grunt of effort as he drove the hoe into the soil again. The dry dirt broke apart under the dull blade. He then pulled it back and struck again repeating the cycle as a small clump of soil flipped over.

The boy then stopped and stared at the uneven ground in front of him, chest rising and falling as he wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve.

Behind him stood the “house” he now lived in.

Calling it a house was generous. It was a skeletal hut of rough-hewn planks, listing precariously to the left as if a single stray gust of wind might finally retire it. The roof was a patchwork quilt of mismatched boards and rotting thatch, and the door groaned on a single rusted hinge. It had been abandoned to the elements long before he stumbled upon it.

And yet… It was the closest thing to shelter he had.

The boy then rested the hoe against his shoulder and looked out across the clearing.

Tall trees surrounded the area on all sides. Their dense canopies choked out the sky, casting long, shifting shadows that danced across the dirt as the wind hissed through the leaves. The forest was a wall—endless, wild, and suffocating. No asphalt roads. No humming power lines. No distant silhouettes of skyscrapers. Just the oppressive weight of silence and timber.

His shoulders slumped in defeat, the weight of his isolation finally breaking through his resolve. “I can’t believe this is my life now…” His voice sounded small in the open air.

—-----------------------------

It has been three days now. He had been here for three days. Three days since his entire life had been ripped away. Three days since the moment everything changed.

It had started so normally. He’d been in his room, the familiar sanctuary of an otaku. His laptop had been humming, a seasonal anime playing on the screen. Posters of heroes and villains lined the walls, and stacks of game cases sat like small monuments beside his monitor. The soft, blue glow of electronics had been the only light he needed.

Then darkness overcame him without any warning. One second he was sinking into his ergonomic chair; the next, he was standing on a bed of damp moss, clad in nothing but a threadbare sleeping shirt and boxers.

There was no speeding truck. No glowing summoning circle. No ethereal goddess with a quest and a blessing. Just the sudden, cold realization that he was utterly alone in a place that didn't know he existed. He still felt that phantom chill crawling up his spine, the pure, undiluted panic of a modern human stripped of every safety net.

—-----------------------------------------

The boy leaned forward, placing both hands on the hoe as he stared at the half-tilled field.

“Seriously, I still can’t believe the Isekai is real?” He said as a bitter laugh escaped him. He was an otaku.  He knew the tropes by heart. He’d read the manga and watched the shows. Usually, the protagonist meets a deity. They get a "cheat" skill, a "system" interface, or at least a legendary sword that talks back.

But not him. He’d been dropped into a botanical void.

Frustration boiled over, and he kicked a clod of dirt, sending it crumbling into the weeds. “Seriously? No powers? No magic? Not even a damn tutorial?”

The hoe slipped from his calloused grip, hitting the soil with a dull, mocking thump. He buried his face in his hands, fingers tangling in his sweaty hair. “If you’re gonna drag me into another world at least give me something!” He says yelling to the air.

But the forest did not answer. Only the distant sound of birds echoed through the trees.

His shoulders then dropped again. “Man… I miss my bed.” He missed the hum of the air conditioning. He missed the stinging heat of a high-pressure shower and the dull light of a refrigerator at midnight. He missed food that came in a wrapper rather than something he had to skin and gut over a smoky fire.

He looked down at his hands. In just three days, they had transformed. Small cuts and angry blisters mapped his palms—the physical cost of his survival.

In those first few hours, he had wandered like a ghost, blind and terrified. He’d been lucky to find the clearing. He remembered the moment he broke through the treeline and saw the hut—he had actually wept, thinking he’d found civilization. But the interior was a tomb of dust. All he’d found was the wooden chest containing the oversized robes, this hoe, a shovel, and a small, leather sack of unidentified seeds.

Now, he was trying to play the part of a pioneer, relying on half-remembered facts from nature documentaries and the simplified mechanics of farming simulators.

He looked at his work. The rows were crooked, shallow, and uneven.

“Pretty sure farming isn’t supposed to look like this,” he sighed, his stomach giving a violent, hollow growl in agreement. “Yeah, yeah… I know. Can’t exactly Google 'how to survive a forest' now, can I?”

Hunting was his only saving grace. He’d managed to rig some crude traps with sticks and the fraying rope he’d scavenged. It was enough to keep the starvation at bay, but the meat was tough and the portions were small. It wasn’t much, but it kept him alive.

Still… he glanced back toward the endless forest surrounding the clearing. A quiet unease crept into his chest. He had explored the area around the hut, but he hadn’t found any roads. Just miles of forest.

He exhaled slowly. “Where the hell did I end up…” For all he knew, he could be on some uninhabited island or worse. The thought made his stomach twist. “I just want to go home…”

The wind picked up slightly, rustling the leaves of the surrounding trees. For a moment, the forest felt like it was watching him.

But the boy shook his head and picked the hoe back up. ‘No point thinking about it. Complaining wouldn’t magically send me back. If I wanted to survive… I had to keep working.’

He raised the hoe and slammed it into the dirt again as soil turned over beneath the blade.

Another row formed as sweat dripped down his face as the afternoon sun continued to beat down on the clearing.

—--------------------------------------

Night had fallen over the forest.

The clearing where the crooked hut stood was quiet, wrapped in darkness beneath a sky scattered with distant stars. The wind had died down hours ago, leaving the trees standing still and silent. Only the occasional chirp of insects and the faint rustling of leaves disturbed the calm.

Inside the wooden hut, the young boy slept, the interior of the hut was dim, lit only by faint moonlight slipping through the cracks between the planks. The room was small and bare. A wooden chest sat in the corner beside a crude table made from uneven boards, while the crude farming tools leaned against the wall.

On the floor lay a simple bed made from bundled straw covered by an old cloth blanket. The boy slept on his side, breathing slowly. Exhaustion had dragged him into deep sleep the moment the sun went down. His body ached from hours of working the soil, his hands still sore from the blisters forming across his palms.

A small fire pit outside the hut had long since burned down to cold ashes.

—-----------------------------------------------

Deep within the trees beyond the clearing, shadows moved as leaves rustled as several figures raced silently through the forest canopy. They moved like ghosts, leaping from branch to branch with unnatural speed. Their movements were precise and controlled, barely disturbing the branches beneath their feet.

All three of them wore dark combat clothing designed for mobility. Their eyes scanned the forest below as they traveled.

Then one of them raised her hand and the group stopped instantly. They landed on separate branches overlooking a narrow path cutting through the woods.

The leader then crouched low, her sharp eyes scanning the darkness behind her. “Someone’s following us,” She whispered. 

Causing one of the other kunoichi to adjust the grip on her short sword. “You’re sure?”

“I just recently noticed her chakra signature behind us,” The leader replied quietly. “She’s not far.”

The third kunoichi remained silent, her gaze sweeping the forest behind.

The night remained still.

For a moment it seemed like nothing was there. Then a blur of movement erupted from the shadows as a kunai shot through the air and the leader twisted sideways. The blade sliced through the space where her head had been a moment before and embedded itself into a tree trunk.

“She’s here!” She shouted.

The forest exploded into motion as a fourth figure burst from the undergrowth below. Another kunoichi. Her movements were aggressive and fast as her eyes locked onto the group above. She then formed a hand sign instantly. “Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!”

Flames erupted from her mouth, a blazing sphere of fire roaring upward toward the branches.

The three kunoichi quickly scattered as the fireball slammed into the tree canopy with explosive force. Branches ignited instantly as flames spread across the leaves.

One of the kunoichi flipped through the air and landed on a nearby trunk. “Tch. This should be easy, she’s alone.”

But the attacker didn’t hesitate as she charged forward, launching herself up the tree with chakra-enhanced speed. Steel then clashed as a kunai struck another with a sharp clang as two of the women collided midair.

The force of the impact sent both of them crashing through the branches before they landed on separate limbs.

The third kunoichi moved quickly. Her hands flashed through signs. “Wind Release!” A sharp gust of cutting wind shot through the forest toward the attacker.

The violet haired Kunoichi with a leaf on her forehead protector, twisted her body mid-leap, narrowly avoiding the attack as it sliced cleanly through several branches behind her. Wood splintered and rained down onto the forest floor.

The battle moved rapidly through the trees as Kunai flashed in the moonlight. Explosive tags detonated against tree trunks, sending bursts of smoke and splinters into the air.

One kunoichi dashed across the bark of a tree horizontally before launching herself into a spinning kick aimed at the attacker’s head.

The Konoha Kunoichi then blocked with her forearm. The impact cracked the bark beneath their feet. Both women pushed off each other and landed several meters apart on separate branches.

Breathing steady and eyes sharp, the leader of the three kunoichi landed beside her teammate.

“She’s good,” the second kunoichi muttered.

“Doesn’t matter,” the leader replied calmly.

The attacker smirked faintly from across the clearing. “Three against one,” She said quietly. “How honorable. Now drop the scroll,” The tan overcoat wearing Kuniochi ordered.

“Not happening.” The leader responded as she then threw a flash bomb causing white light to explode through the trees as the forest lit up for a split second.

Then smoke bombs detonated as the battlefield became filled with thick gray clouds and shadows moved through the smoke as blades clashed again. 

A kunai sliced across a sleeve, drawing blood, a kick slammed into a ribcage and someone crashed through a branch and landed hard on the forest floor before springing back up.

The fight raged through the darkness of the trees.

—-----------------------------

Inside the hut, the boy shifted slightly in his sleep. He rolled onto his back, one arm draped across his chest.

Outside, a distant explosion shook loose a few leaves from the roof.

But the boy scratched his cheek in his sleep then settled again, completely unaware as only a few hundred meters away, kunoichi fought fiercely among the trees, fire and steel flashing beneath the moonlight.

But inside the crooked hut in the clearing, the boy slept peacefully.

—------------------------------

The moon hung high above the towering trees, its pale light filtering through the thick canopy in broken beams that barely reached the ground. Smoke drifted slowly through the air where scorched bark and shattered branches marked the aftermath of the violent battle.

Several trees leaned at odd angles where explosive tags had blasted chunks of wood apart. Deep gouges carved by blades scarred the trunks. The scent of burnt leaves and blood lingered in the night air.

At the center of the ruined patch of forest stood Anko Mitarashi. Her breathing was heavy. A kunai hung loosely in her right hand while her shoulders rose and fell with each slow breath. The tan combat coat and the thin metal mesh suit that covered her full figured body had several fresh tears across the fabric, and blood seeped through one of the cuts along her side.

A few meters away, the body of one of the rogue kunoichi lay motionless at the base of a broken tree.

Anko’s eyes followed the direction the other two enemies had fled as branches still swayed slightly where they had vanished into the darkness.

“Tch…” She clicked her tongue and took a step forward but her body immediately protested as pain shot through her ribs and side, forcing her to stop. “…damn it.”

She pressed a hand against her wound, fingers coming away slick with blood. The wind jutsu earlier had caught her closer than she liked, and the impact from being slammed into the tree hadn’t helped either.

Her eyes narrowed toward the direction the enemy had escaped. “They’re not getting far…” She knew the terrain. If she pushed herself, she could probably track them down before sunrise. But when she tried to take another step, her vision swam slightly and her legs trembled.

Anko exhaled slowly through her nose. “…yeah… that’s not happening.” She glanced down at the fallen kunoichi. The woman’s eyes stared blankly at the sky, the kunai embedded in her chest reflecting the moonlight faintly.

Anko crouched beside the body and quickly searched her and found a small pouch. A few shuriken, a broken smoke bomb. But no scroll.

“Figures.” She then leaned back slightly, wincing as pain flared through her ribs again. The remaining two had escaped with the scroll. That annoyed her more than the injuries. “…lucky bitches.”

For a moment she considered forcing herself to pursue them anyway but her eyes drifted toward the dark forest.

Then she flexed her fingers as her chakra flow was uneven. Her muscles were already beginning to stiffen from the damage she had taken. If she pushed now and ran into another tough fight…

“…yeah, that’d be stupid.” Anko stood slowly and scanned the forest one more time.

The night had grown quiet again. The sounds of battle were gone and only the soft rustle of leaves and distant insects remained.

She then quickly began to make some distance from the corpse in search of a resting spot. She didn’t get far as Anko moved; she found the base of a thick tree nearby and slid down against the trunk until she was sitting on the forest floor.

The rough bark pressed against her back. She then tilted her head slightly, letting the cool night air brush against her skin. “…just a quick nap.” Her voice was quiet.

If she slept for an hour or two, she could recover enough chakra to move again before sunrise. Her eyes drifted shut briefly before opening again and her hand rested loosely on the kunai beside her. Even injured, her instincts wouldn’t completely shut off. But exhaustion was catching up fast.

“Nothing better decide to eat me tonight…” She said with a faint smirk that touched her lips. Then her head tilted slightly to the side as her breathing slowly evened out.

Within minutes, Anko Mitarashi had fallen asleep against the tree.

—--------------------------------

Morning, Hut

Morning arrived slowly in the forest. A pale golden light slipped between the towering trees as the sun began to rise above the canopy. Mist clung to the ground in thin sheets, curling around the roots of ancient trunks while droplets of dew hung from every leaf.

The clearing around the crooked hut stirred back to life. Inside, the boy groaned softly as the first rays of sunlight pushed through the cracks in the wooden walls and struck his face. He shifted under the rough blanket of cloth and straw, rubbing his eyes before sitting up slowly.

His entire body protested. “Ugh… my back…” Sleeping on bundled straw had not improved overnight. He stretched stiffly, joints popping, then dragged himself to his feet and stepped outside into the cool morning air.

The forest smelled damp and fresh after the night. For a brief moment he simply stood there, enjoying the quiet.

Then his stomach growled loudly. “Right… food.” With a sigh, he grabbed a small knife from the crude table and stepped off into the forest to check the traps he had set the day before.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Morning, Forest

The morning forest was a cathedral of filtered light and waking life. Soft beams of sun cut through the canopy, illuminating the mist that clung to the damp earth beneath his sandals. Insects buzzed in a lazy, rhythmic drone among the ferns, and the air smelled of wet pine and rich decay.

His mind wandered as he walked following the narrow, bruised trail he had worn into the grass over the last few days. His mind drifted, buoyed by the hollow ache in his stomach. ‘Maybe today I’ll actually catch something decent,’ He thought. A rabbit would be a feast; hell, he’d settle for a squirrel that didn't taste like old leather. Anything was better than the charred, stringy meat he’d been scraping off sharpened sticks.

He pushed aside a branch and stepped deeper into the trees. A few minutes later he reached the location of his first trap.

“Please tell me I caught something—” But then he stopped as the trap had been triggered. But it was empty. “Are you kidding me…?” He crouched down, inspecting the bent branch mechanism.

Something had clearly been caught. But it had escaped. “Great… just great…” With a tired groan that felt more like a wheeze, he forced himself back up.

The second trap was further out, nestled in a darker part of the woods where the trees grew thick and gnarled. As he approached, he squinted. At first, it looked like a discarded pile of laundry at the base of an ancient oak—tan and dark purple, messy and out of place.

Which caused him to quickly blink and then freeze as it wasn’t clothes. But a person.

His heart quickly skipped a beat. “A… person?” Hope, bright and sharp, exploded in his chest. For three days, his world had been a green prison of silence. Now, finally, another human soul. He rushed forward, his sandals slapping against the roots, but skidded to a halt a few meters away. Up close, he realized it was a woman.

She was leaning against the massive trunk, her head tilted at an awkward angle as if sleep had claimed her mid-sentence. Her attire was unlike anything he’d ever seen, a long, tan overcoat flared out around her, partially revealing a dark mesh bodysuit that hugged her form like a second skin. But what really made him freeze was how beautiful she was.

‘Holy…’ His brain stalled for a moment as she looked like something out of a movie or anime. Wild strands of violet hair spilled over her shoulders, framing a face that was strikingly beautiful, sharp, elegant, and looking like it had been lifted straight from a high-budget anime.

Then he noticed the blood and his expression changed instantly. 

“Oh crap…” He said in worry as dark stains spread across parts of her coat. There were tears in the fabric and bruises visible on her arms. She was clearly injured and concern pushed aside his hesitation as he stepped closer.

As he leaned by her side and tried to grab her attention. “Hey… miss?” But got no response. He then crouched beside her carefully. “Hey… are you okay?” His hand slowly reached forward and the moment his fingers brushed her shoulder, the world turned upside down.

The "sleeping" woman exploded into a blur of violent motion. Before the teen could even blink, a hand like a steel vice clamped onto the front of his oversized robes. With a strength that defied physics, she launched upward, slamming him back against the rough bark of the oak tree.

The impact rattled his teeth and drove every lungful of air out of his body. “Ghk—!”

A cold piece of metal was then pressed against his throat and his eyes widened in pure primal terror. The woman staring back at him was no longer a victim; her eyes were narrow, predatory, and burning with a dangerous intensity. 

“Who are you?” Her voice was a low, lethal rasp. The blade bit just a fraction deeper into his skin. “Why are you here?”

The boy’s mind went completely blank. “I— I— I—” His heart pounded wildly in his chest. The metal edge of the blade barely touched his skin and if she pushed it even slightly further—.

“I swear if you're working with those thieves—” But then her words suddenly stopped as her eyes widened and she blinked. 

Her brain finally processed as her gaze swept over him, finally processing the details. She saw the trembling hands, the soft features, the sheer, unadulterated fear and the unmistakable fact that the person she had pinned to the tree was a male.

Her body quickly froze as it processed the new information. ‘Wait.’ Her grip loosened slightly as her mind raced. ‘That's a man?!’ Her eyes widened even more.

In all her life she had never seen one in person and in a world where men were rare prizes, fragile, protected, and kept safely behind the high walls of noble clans or castles. She had just slammed one against a tree and was holding a kunai to one’s throat. Her face, previously pale from blood loss, erupted into a violent, crimson flush and her entire body stiffened.

‘Oh no.’ The lethal kunoichi began to spiral. ‘Oh no no no no.’ 

She quickly released him instantly, leaping backward several meters as if his very presence had delivered an electric shock. The blade vanished into her sleeve with a flick of the wrist. Her hands began to fidget at her sides, and she couldn't seem to decide whether to look at him or the dirt. ‘I just threatened a man. I held a weapon to his throat. He’s going to hate me and think I’m a monster.’

Across from her, the boy slid down the tree trunk, gasping for breath. “What the hell was that?!” He clutched his throat, feeling the faint sting of where the metal had been. He had been a second away from a permanent "Game Over."

‘I almost died.’ Slowly he opened his eyes again expecting her to finish the job, but the scene had shifted into something surreal. The dangerous warrior was gone; in her place stood a woman who looked like she wanted the earth to swallow her whole. She was standing stiffly, her face a deep shade of scarlet, staring intently at a patch of moss.

‘What? Why does she look… embarrassed?’ The teen blinked in confusion. ‘Why did she stop?’ He slowly stood up, keeping a careful distance. A part of him wanted to run. Run straight back to the hut and never come back. But then he noticed something again. The blood on her coat. She was still injured. 

His conscience, stubborn and annoying, won the battle against his fear. “Um…”

She flinched slightly as if he’d shouted.

“Are… are you okay?” 

The question made her look up immediately. As her eyes widened.

‘He’s worried about me?’ She thought as she immediately straightened her posture and dropped into a bow so deep it looked painful.

“I am incredibly sorry!” She shouted, her voice echoing through the clearing with startling formality. “I deeply apologize for threatening you in such a manner!”

The teen blinked. “What?”

“That behavior was completely inappropriate for someone of my station to show toward a man!”

He simply stared at her like she had just spoken another language or he was having a stroke. “I mean… I did kinda sneak up and touch you…”

“That is not an issue!” She waved her hands frantically, her blush deepening. “In fact, if you wish, you may touch me whenever you want! I do not mind, in fact, I would prefer it!”

The silence that followed was absolute. The forest seemed to hold its breath.

The black haired teen simply tilted his head, his face a mask of pure bewilderment. “...What?”

Her brain finally caught up to the words that had just tumbled out of her mouth. She sputtered, her hands flying to her burning cheeks. “I— I mean— that is— it's not—”

The teen blinked again. ‘Okay… something weird is definitely happening.’ Attempting to bridge the awkward gap, he scratched the back of his head and offered a shaky, nervous smile. “Uh… I guess we should introduce ourselves. My name is Leonardo. But, uh, you can just call me Leo.”

The woman immediately took a breath and straightened again. ‘Focus. Don't mess this up.’ She placed a hand over her chest and gave a proper introduction. “My name is Anko Mitarashi.” She paused slightly before adding proudly, “A kunoichi of the Hidden Leaf Village.”

For a moment Leo simply stared at her. Then his brain replayed what she said. ‘Anko, Kunoichi, Hidden Leaf.’ The pieces clicked together instantly and his eyes widened in shock.

“...Oh.” His face slowly paled. “...Oh shit.” Realization slammed into him like a truck.

‘No way, no freaking way.’ He looked at the violet-haired woman standing in front of him. Then at the kunai she had hidden earlier. Then at the strange clothes. His thoughts screamed. ‘I’m in the world of Naruto!’

Done. Tell me what you think.