My name is Kaito. Thirty-five years old. Genin. Widower. Father to a five-year-old son. And currently hiding behind a cabbage stand because a certain spiky-haired brat just ran past shouting about ramen.
Ding!
Death Flag Detected: Naruto Uzumaki spotted within 10 meters. High chance of being collateral damage in an impromptu street brawl or unlicensed prank war.
Recommended Action:Feign severe allergic reaction to air. Collapse dramatically.
I sighed.
You'd think reincarnating into a world like Naruto would be awesome. I was a high schooler in my past life, fresh out of a third-rate anime binge when Truck-kun paid me a visit. Next thing I knew, I woke up in the Hidden Leaf Village… thirty years old, no ninja talent, and apparently married. Don't ask me how that happened—I can't remember either. Five years later, my wife's gone, leaving me with my son Haruto and a job doing the glorious work of chasing lost cats and cleaning public bathrooms for barely enough ryo to afford instant miso soup.
The only thing between me and an early grave is this stupid system.
Background NPC Protection Protocol.
Or as I call it: BNPP, the Baka Nagging Piece of Programming.
Every morning, without fail, it delivers my daily Death Flag Warning. Always something dumb. Always something that makes me question if it's secretly trying to get me killed.
I checked the hovering message again.
Feign severe allergic reaction to air.
"Yeah, because rolling around gasping like a dying fish in front of civilians won't make me look totally sane."
I peered around the cabbage stand. Naruto had already disappeared in a cloud of dust. Good. Safe.
Ding!
Alternate Fate Preview available. Would you like to view the outcome of ignoring this morning's Death Flag Warning? Y/N
Now here's the thing — the system lets me preview my future death once per day if I choose to ignore its advice. Curiosity got me the first time. It always ends the same way: me dead. But for some reason, it's like a sick video game cutscene. Part of me wanted to see what horrible, improbable death awaited me this time.
"Fine. Show me."
Ding!
Playing Alternate Fate Preview…
[FATE PREVIEW #045]
Scene: Konoha Market Street. Kaito, confident and alive, walks past without pretending to choke on air.
Naruto, meanwhile, runs past an old lady carrying a basket of fermented fish.
The basket tips.
One fish lands in the street.
A stray dog grabs it.
Chases a cat.
Cat leaps onto a vendor cart.
Cart rolls downhill.
Hits a random genin.
Genin stumbles, throws a shuriken.
Shuriken ricochets off a pot lid.
Hits a civilian's hairpin.
Hairpin flies, pierces Kaito's jugular.
End.
Cause of Death: Impaled by airborne hair accessory.
I blinked.
"…What the actual hell?"
This world, man. I swear. It's not the Akatsuki you gotta worry about — it's hairpins.
Ding!
Would you like to retroactively follow system advice and feign allergic reaction?
"Yes, yes, fine! I'll fake a damn air allergy."
I staggered out from behind the stand, clutching my throat and wheezing like a man with two days left to live.
A couple of passing civilians glanced my way. One old lady whispered to another, "Oh dear, it's that widowed Genin again. Poor thing's lost his mind since his wife passed."
I gave them a thumbs-up before dramatically collapsing into a pile of turnips.
Mission Complete. Death Flag Avoided.
Ding!
Next Death Flag Warning pending…
I lay there, face buried in root vegetables, considering my life choices.
I was thirty-five. A Genin. A widower. A single dad. With a system that made me roll around in produce to avoid improbable death scenarios.
At least Haruto was cute. Kid was the only reason I kept taking these stupid D-rank missions. Somebody had to pay for his academy fees and his obsession with frog-shaped sandals.
"Alright, Kaito," I muttered to myself. "You lived through another morning. That's a win."
Ding!
New Death Flag Detected.
Oh come on.
Death Flag #2:
A mission to retrieve a lost ferret is being assigned at the mission desk. High chance of unexpected bear encounter.
Recommended Action:Claim sudden phobia of fur. Refuse mission. Pretend to fear eyebrows if necessary.
"Eyebrows… what?"
This system was broken. And it was my only lifeline.