Chapter 2347: Pilot/Spoiler

Chapter 2343: Pilot/Spoiler

(A/N: Since it’s my day off, I decided to write a one-shot for a novel I’ve been thinking about for a while. Let me know what you think.)

Ashton Ayers was an above-average but self-professed ‘ordinary’ guy. He performed well enough during his school years to get a scholarship at his University of choice, graduated with honors, married his high school sweetheart, and went on to run a successful business producing military-grade prostheses. Because of this, others viewed him as exceptional, but Ashton and those closest to him knew the truth. The only thing that made him special was his work ethic and his general love for humanity.

Though he had lost his parents at a very early age, Ashton was fortunate enough to be adopted by a very loving couple who only wanted the best for him. They never once tried to force him to call them mother and father and supported his every endeavor so long as he could demonstrate how it might be helpful to himself and others. Thus, alongside his seven brothers and sisters, Ashton grew up always considering the consequences of his actions. This made him a role model among his peers, a great leader at his workplace, and a fantastic father to his three children.

By all accounts, excluding his own, Ashton was a model of a human being. When he was diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease at the age of thirty-seven, everyone that knew him was devastated. Even if he fought tooth and nail to survive, he would only be able to extend his life by around ten years. Ashton could easily afford the treatment, but instead of placing a burden on his family, friends, and loved ones, he used his accumulated vacation days to fly around the world, completing various bucket list items before making arrangements with his Lawyers to ensure each of his viable organs found new homes. Then, with a bag of box jellyfish in hand, he ran himself an ice bath and released the lethal invertebrates into the water, breathing his last breath moments later…

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Expecting nothing but darkness when he closed his eyes the final time, Ashton was more than a little annoyed when he eventually opened them to find himself standing in an impossibly long queue. Instead of leading up to pearly white gates or a fiery pit, however, the line led to a relatively spartan-looking building, the kind you would typically find on government installations or military bases.

Discarding the friendly smile he had ‘worn’ for much of his life, Ashton’s expression morphed into a borderline deadpan as he groaned, “Give me a fucking break…”

While others viewed Asthon as a kind and sociable person who genuinely cared for others, the truth was that he was a functional psychopath. The only reason he adopted such a mask was to ensure his life would be free from burdens. After all, getting adopted by the Manager of a Hedge Fund wasn’t an opportunity that presented itself often.

After pretending to be a good guy his entire life, Ashton had been relieved by his MND diagnosis because it gave him the excuse to end things on his terms. His wife and children had started to notice the cracks in his facade, so things might have gotten dangerous if he was forced to endure them a few decades longer.

Resisting the urge to monologue, Ashton raised his head to get a better look at his surroundings. He had been an Atheist in his previous life, but that didn’t really matter at this point. He was dead, that much was certain, so what else could this be but an afterlife? His synapsis firing off one last time to produce a hyper-realistic dream? If that were true, he doubted he would be the only white guy in a line dominated by zombie-like Chinese people…

Giving the man in front of him a poke, Ashton expected some kind of response, but the man simply bumped into the person in front of him before righting himself. This gave Ashton the almost irresistible urge to start a domino effect, but he doubted it would do him any favors with whoever was in charge.

Turning around, Ashton found an old Chinese woman standing behind him, followed by a seemingly endless line of similar people with blank expressions and empty eyes. The majority were garbed in what could best be described as matte grey hospital gowns, but there were a few, like himself, wearing what Ashton assumed to be the clothes they were buried in.

(“So fucking weird…”)

Though he doubted the people around him would respond to him, Ashton kept his words to himself. He didn’t know if he was being observed, so he determined it was probably best to remain silent. Being the only person in a seemingly endless line who was awake probably wasn’t a good thing…

Or was it?

Getting a better look at his surroundings, Ashton noticed there were a few massive, and he meant ‘massive’ buildings in the distance. His immediate surroundings were barren, lacking even a blade of grass, but there was a foggy forest full of strange trees a few meters away from the paved path everyone was standing on.

(“Should I…?”)

Since the line hadn’t moved since his arrival and there were easily tens of thousands of people in front of him, Ashton was seriously considering just leaving the queue. He could also cut the line, but the ‘zombies’ were lined up ‘nut-to-butt’ as the United States Marines called it. To make room for himself, he would need to disrupt the queue, and his intuition told him that wouldn’t be a particularly brilliant thing to do. Leaving the path was much the same, but it beat standing around and doing nothing.

After waiting another hour without the line moving so much as a single centimeter, Ashton thought, (“Fuck it. I just committed suicide, so I doubt there’s good news waiting for me ahead. Even if there is, I’m not waiting a fucking decade to find out.”)

Having made his decision, Ashton turned to the elderly woman behind him, habitually adopting his usual mask as he asked, “Mind holding my spot for me?”

Seemingly oblivious to Ashton’s words, the old woman just kept staring ahead with a blank look on her face. The moment he stepped out of line, however, every single person in the queue moved forward in unison…

(“…”)

Though he had the distinct impression he had just fucked up, Ashton had never been the type to mull over the past. As far as he knew, what’s done couldn’t be undone. Thus, after one last look at the queue, Ashton moved toward the treeline without looking back…

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Sensing a disturbance in her surroundings, an impossibly ancient-looking woman with ashen hair, wrinkled skin, and recessed eyes raised her head from the large cauldron she had been stirring. Her attendants immediately noticed, one of them rushing forward and bowing low to inquire, “Oh great and Venerable Po. Is something the matter?”

Without looking at the person who had addressed her, the elderly woman replied, “A wayward soul has wandered off the path. Inform His Highness and have someone dispatched to collect them…”

Though it was rare for an undead spirit to regain consciousness, this was far from the first time it had happened. There had even been a handful of individuals who managed to escape Naihe Bridge and escape the cycle of reincarnation, but they would quickly regret it. After all, the only thing that awaited them beyond that was literal Hell…

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After wandering through the forest for what felt like hours, Ashton took note of three things. First and foremost, he didn’t get tired, no matter how much he exerted himself. Secondly, he didn’t experience hunger, thirst, or even pain. These were objectively good things, as, despite doing his best to walk in a single direction, Ashton had found himself back at the line of ‘zombies’ no less than three times.

“Fuck my afterlife…”

Though he didn’t suffer physical exhaustion, Ashton began to check out mentally. He could bust his ass if the reward was promising, but repeating the same action over and over without an end goal was worse than being one of the ‘sheep’ that plagued his previous life.

Recognizing that the forest was probably designed to send people back to the queue, Ashton began making his way over to the building everyone was being shepherded into. He didn’t know how the people there would react to him stepping out and outright skipping the queue, but he figured it was worth finding out.

Arriving at his destination two hours later, despite jogging the whole way, Ashton was about to enter the interior when a fiery sound tickled his ears. His surroundings also began to illuminate, so he followed the sound to its source, a literal fucking meteor barreling toward him.

“What the fu-”

Before Ashton could finish speaking or even think to dodge, the meteor impacted him directly, creating a large explosion that destroyed part of the building and knocked over many within the queue. Excruciating pain enveloped Ashton’s body, but when the smoke and flames disappeared, he found himself whole and uninjured, the only thing still hurting being his pride.

Despite his best efforts to raise his head, Ashton found his face buried in the dirt, pressed down by an exposed, fur-covered foot. His ears were still above ground, however, so he could hear the owner of said foot laughing his ass off, shouting, “Today is your lucky day, evil-doer! Though none are my equal, few have had the honor of being defeated by the Great Me, Sun Wukong…!”

Grabbing Ashton by his hair, the man claiming to be Sun Wukong raised him as if he was lifting a feather. Soon after, Ashton found himself staring into a pair of burning red eyes. He felt like they were boring into him, but that didn’t prevent him from forcing a smile as he muttered, “Sun Wukong. As in the Great Sage, Heaven’s Equal? That Sun Wukong…?”

Though he had previously been staring at Ashton with a look of ridicule on his face, Sun Wukong adopted a broad smile as he mused, “Ho~? Are you familiar with the Great Me? That’s pretty rare for someone with your particular…complexion.”

Maintaining his smile, Ashton answered, “How could I not know of ‘the’ Sun Wukong? Journey to the West is a classic, and you’ve appeared in all kinds of media. Anyone with more than ten brain cells knows you’re one of the most powerful beings in modern pop culture. If people knew you were ‘real,’ they would flip the fuck out.”

Sensing no overt falsehoods in Ashton’s words, Sun Wukong’s smile broadened as he set the former on his feet and dusted off his shoulders, declaring, “It seems I was mistaken. Though foolish, you’re no evil-doer. Anyone who can recognize my greatness has to be a good person. Now, how about you tell this Grandpa why you stepped out of line?”

Though he had no idea how similar this Sun Wukong was to the version depicted in various video games, movies, and novels, Ashton managed a ‘sincere’ smile as he answered, “As you pointed out, I don’t exactly fit in with the rest of the people here. Unless everyone who dies ends up in this place, I believe there may have been a mistake…”

Caressing his chin, Wukong revealed, “At the present moment, there are a total of six factions openly competing for dominion over the mortal world. People typically end up in the afterlife that most closely corresponds with their beliefs, so you either converted to Buddhism at some point or simply didn’t care where you ended up. Either way, this is where you ended up. I suggest you accept it and just move on to your next incarnation. Clinging to life after death rarely ends well.”

Shaking his head, Ashton admitted, “I took my own life, believing that was the end of everything. While I am curious about reincarnation, it isn’t something I’m willing to stand in line for decades to obtain. If there isn’t a faster way, I’d honestly prefer to have my existence erased. It’s a hell of a lot better than returning to that shit hole called Earth.”

Raising his brows, Wukong remarked, “How curious…given your state of dress, I would assume you were one of the fortunate few to be born into privileged circumstances. What could you have possibly experienced to make you desire oblivion? Let me guess; your best friend made you into a cuckold…?”

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Snorting through his nose, Ashton retorted, “He wishes…” before staring directly into Wukong’s eyes and stating, “People suck, and society sucks even more. As someone who spent their entire life ‘helping’ others, I can confidently say that humanity is completely fucked. If the only thing that awaits me upon reincarnation are endless recessions, moral decline, and politically correct nutjobs, I would gladly accept oblivion.”

Amused by Ashton’s response, Wukong snickered and showed off a smile that displayed the majority of his inordinately sharp teeth. Unfortunately for Ashton, he didn’t really care where the human ultimately ended up. He was, however, interested in the circumstances that led to Ashton being so indignant his consciousness lingered despite his apparent desire to end it all.

Placing his hand on Ashton’s shoulder, Wukong said, “Tell you what. I’m in a pretty good mood today, so if you bow to this Grandaddy and recognize him as your Ancestor, I may just help you out. How about it?”

Though there was a reasonably high probability that Wukong was just fucking with him, Ashton was more than willing to endure a moment of embarrassment if it meant he could skip an unmoving queue. As a result, he didn’t even hesitate to lower himself to the ground, poorly emulating a kowtow as he said, “Ashton Ayers recognizes his Ancestor…”

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“Wake up, child. The day is upon us.”

Disturbed by the sound of the deep, gravelly voice, a young boy with wild brown reluctantly opened his peculiar yellow eyes and groaned, “Can you keep your voice down? I’m trying to sleep…”

In response to the youth’s words, a brown-skinned man with prominent, monkey-like features narrowed his equally yellow eyes. He had a mane of spikey white hair that extended to his lower back, fur framing the sides of his face, a prominent goatee, and, most notably, a tail protruding from his lower back. Above his brows, protecting his forehead, was an elastic band bearing a metallic plate and swirling symbol depicting a leaf.

Crossing his arms, the distinctly haplorrhine man adopted an expression of discontent as he muttered, “This is the child that bears the fate of our world on his shoulders? We’re doomed…”

Though he could not make out what the man said, the youth could hear him muttering something under his brown. However, when he looked up to ask what the man was saying, he immediately paused, his expression morphing into one of abject confusion as he asked, “Are you a monkey…?”

Furrowing his brows even further than they already were, the white-haired ‘man’ responded, “Indeed. Not just any monkey, mind you, but the King of all Monkeys. From now on, you shall refer to me as Monkey King Enma, Lord Enma, or Master Enma. Now, hurry up and get changed. Your training begins immediately.”

With an incredulous look, the youth retorted, “Training? What the hell are you on about, old man…?”

Instead of answering the youth’s questions, Enma picked him up by his collar and carried him out the door. The youth was about to protest this, but another wave of confusion silenced him as he compared himself to the size of Enma and gawked at his hands. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt as though he should be a lot bigger…

“Ah! My head…!”

Feeling a sudden and intense pain, the youth grabbed the sides of his head, prompting Enma to set him down and get a better look at him. This involved placing his hand on the youth’s head, a faint green light emitting from his palm as he asked, “Where does it hurt? Is it just your head, or do you feel pain elsewhere…?”

Hearing Enma’s questions, the youth was about to scream his response, but when he raised his head, the entire world around him appeared to be frozen in time. Everything was a series of greys, blacks, and whites, and, as far as he could tell, not even a single hair was moving on Enma’s body.

As the youth observed his surroundings in confusion, no longer feeling any pain from his head, a thumb-sized piece of jade fell from his clothing, followed by a voice echoing within his head, stating, (“Listen, brat. I don’t have a lot of time. All you need to know right now is that this is a path you decided for yourself. I did what I could to make things easier for you, but it’s up to you to take hold of your destiny. If you mess up, don’t blame this Grandpa for laughing at your expense! Kishishishishishi~!”)

“Ugh…”

With the mysterious voice sounding like claps of thunder within his mind, the youth doubled over in pain. Blood began to trickle from his eyes, ears, and nose, so the voice wrapped things up by saying, (“Oh, yeah—one last thing before I go. Your name is Wu. No surname and whatnot. Feel free to give yourself one or seek out an existing family and take theirs. It doesn’t matter to me. Good luck.”)

Seemingly finished with what it had to say, the voice disappeared from Wu’s head, followed by color returning to the world. When Enma saw the state he was in, he quickly snatched up the barely conscious boy in his arms, shouting, “Summon the medics!” in a commanding voice…

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<Four Years Later>

After living amongst the Monkey Clan of Jigokudani for four years, Wu was now a spry, incredibly agile eight-year-old. He still wondered about his origin, but after integrating with the Monkey Clan and training every single day, he stopped fretting over the unknown and started enjoying his strange yet incredibly stimulating life.

Though he was initially physically weaker than the average member of the Monkey Clan, Wu’s strength and speed began increasing explosively once Enma started instructing him on the basics of Chakra. Just channeling the mysterious energy through his body caused Wu to feel ecstatic, so he had taken to the training like a fish in the water or, as they said in Jigokudani, a monkey in the trees.

If there was one thing Wu was dissatisfied about with life in Jigokudani, it was their ‘vegan,’ primarily fruit and nut-based diet. He had never tasted it before, but Wu had an almost insatiable desire to eat meat. Unfortunately, no matter how often he entreated Enma or the other Elders to let him eat some, they vehemently refused, stating, “So long as you reside within the valley, you will adhere to our customs.”

After a brief period where he seriously considered fleeing the valley, Wu more or less gave up his dreams of eating meat. He still longed for it, but he wasn’t willing to sacrifice his place among the Monkeys of Jigokudani, colloquially known as Hell Valley. They had embraced them as one of their own, and while his training had been fierce, Wu understood it was to instill discipline into him and help him grow stronger.

With such thoughts guiding him in his day-to-day life, Wu leaped through the branches of his forest home with the familiarity of someone that had spent the majority of their life amid the canopies. Lord Enma had sent one of his servants to summon him, so Wu was hurrying back, curious to hear what his surrogate father and mentor had to say.

Upon reaching the biggest tree in the village, large enough to support a small mansion, Wu exchanged greetings with the guards before making his way into the interior as if he owned it. He had spent much of the last four years as a resident, so, with the exception of his ‘secret’ hideout, it was the closest thing he had to a home.

Without bothering to knock, Wu made his way into Enma’s study, tensing when he discovered an elderly human male seated alongside his mentor, both nursing cups of tea. The man had spikey grey hair that had receded away from his forehead, several liver spots along the left side of his face, and a pointed goatee that made him seem incredibly ancient. Despite this, he gave off an aura that compelled Wu’s body to tense like a small animal cornered by its natural predator…

Raising his gaze, the elderly man adopted a disarming smile and said, “Good afternoon, Wu. My name is Sarutobi Hiruzen. I believe Enma has told you about me? Either way, I’m pleased to meet you.”

With Wu just standing in the doorway like an idiot, Enma exhaled a tired sigh before adopting a stern expression and ordering, “Come and take a seat, Wu. We have important matters to discuss.”

Though he obeyed Enma’s command, the expression on Wu’s face made it clear he didn’t want to be there. Enma had, in fact, mentioned Sarutobi Hiruzen to him. He was apparently some big shot in the Land of Fire and the sole individual permitted to summon Enma and the other Elders of the Monkey Clan. Under normal circumstances, Wu would be eager to meet and learn from such a man, but he understood why Enma had summoned him here today…

Without beating around the bush, Enma stated, “Starting from today, you shall refer to yourself as Sarutobi Wu. The Elders and I have discussed the matter and decided it would be best for you to live among your fellow humans. Jigokudani will always welcome you, but the remainder of your training will be left in the hands of Hiruzen. Understood?”

Lowering his head, Wu reluctantly replied, “Understood…” in a faint, barely audible tone. He didn’t feel angry or sad, but the notion that he was about to be leaving his home filled him with reluctance.

Misinterpreting Wu’s reaction, Hiruzen’s wrinkled face softened into a grandfatherly smile as he said, “Worry not, young Wu. We understand this is a lot to ask of you, so you will be allowed to return to Jigokudani on the weekends. Our hope is that, with time, you will come to view both Konoha and Jigokudani as your homes.”

Since the elderly duo had expressed their willingness to ‘compromise,’ Wu understood he didn’t have room to speak on the matter. Instead, he kept his head down for several seconds before replying, “I understand…” in an even quieter tone. His voice made him sound pitiable, but the truth of the matter was that Wu was already thinking about how he would fit in at his new home, Konohagakure, the Village Hidden in the Leaves…

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After making the rounds to say goodbye to all his friends and several of the Elders, Wu returned to Hiruzen, now sporting a red, diamond-shaped hat with the symbol for ‘Fire’ blazoned on the front. The hat gave the man a somewhat sagely appearance, so Wu politely cupped his hands and was prepared to bow before Hirzuen stopped him with a gesture, stating, “You are a member of the Sarutobi Clan from this day onward. There is no need for formalities among family.”

As he had never enjoyed lowering his head to others, Wu didn’t hesitate to rise, surprising Hiruzen as he asked, “What should I call you? Grandpa? Father…?”

Taken aback by Wu’s frankness, Hiruzen coughed to clear his throat, a soft chuckle following as he answered, “Grandpa or Grandfather will do nicely. Now, do you have all your things…?”

Nodding his head, Wu showed off the tiny pouch that had been with him since his awakening four years prior. The interior was inscribed with seals that made it several times larger on the inside while reducing the mass of any object placed within to zero. It was only around three cubic meters in size, but that was more than enough to store Wu’s few possessions.

Though his eyes briefly shimmered when Wu produced his storage pouch, Hiruzen didn’t remark on it. Instead, he extended his left hand toward the mysterious and fateful boy and asked, “Shall we depart?” while giving his best, most endearing smile…

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