Hello there, good people of the internet and the fangirls who inhabit it like perverts with no life. If this was one of those cheesy cliché fanfics that I would occasionally read on the internet just to point out how unrealistic and stupid they were, this would be the point where I introduce myself, all my wondrous Mary-Sue-ish abilities, and my extensive knowledge of a certain fandom because "it's, like, totally the best thing ever invented since the conception of the toaster-oven" before I am whisked away off to some fantastical land filled with glorious and beautiful men; where a wave of my hand sends them crawling to my feet and kissing them, praising me as a goddess after I defeat the nefarious villain singlehandedly and I marry my childhood fangirl crush before we live happily ever after as king and queen of the world and everything is right and well with the universe afterwards.


Seriously, let's get real here. I am not a goddess and my name is not Mary or Sue or any variation of the two. My name is Lilith. Lilith Price. Yeah, I know. Greatest name in the freakin' multiverse, note the sarcasm. I had shoulder-length brown hair and gray eyes. Yes, it is completely possible to have gray eyes in real life and I hated how I seemed like I was the only person of my peers who had gray eyes. I was an ordinary woman living in Michigan, the most bipolar place in the United States when it comes to the weather. I wasn't anything special and I wasn't asking for any excitement in life. I wasn't insanely rich and I did not have influential parents. I went to college, I got good grades, I behaved like the good little girl I was always told to be. I wanted to be a psychiatrist once I got my degree. I was also very single in my life. I never had a guy to call a "boyfriend", not that I particularly cared anyway. The closest I got were "guyfriends", where they're guys, but they're just friends.

So what is special about me? Well, let's see…

At the age of twenty-one, living as a perfectly normal human woman on Earth, where superheroes and mutants are the byproducts of the uncreative subhuman mind, you'd expect me to firmly believe that the fictional areas of life do not exist. The idea that we are one of many words out there was complete and utter rubbish. If there really were super-powered aliens somewhere in the world, surely they'd have conquered us by now in their effort to create a galactic empire, reminiscent of Star Wars. But, no; they haven't. As I've said before, fiction is utter bullshit no matter how interesting and awesome it may be.

So surely you could have expected me to believe that the possibility of other dimensions existing wasn't plausible either. Therefore, I suspected that the random Japanese ninja guy with red eyes and long spiky hair wielding a butt-shaped fan that had popped out of my computer screen one October weekend had to be a hallucination produced from my sub-cranium after two consecutive days of no sleep due to studying.

I had finally cracked and was mentally unstable; that's what I constantly told myself. Yet, the hallucination never went away and other people could see him too. Turns out it wasn't just cracked up mental processes from my broken mind, but it was very real. Anime characters coming to life? That doesn't sound so bad at first, as long as said character is the main protagonist or a friend of said protagonist where they are mostly friendly towards innocent people in general. At the time, no one told me the guy was the frickin' main antagonist of a bunch of overpowered ninjas who talk too much and tried to take over his world with a variety of multi-tailed animals, falling meteors summoned at will, and fancy-schmancy illusions on the moon.

In other words, the guy was evil incarnate.

Yet, I fell for him. Hard. Why couldn't I have fallen for someone normal, you ask? Because he was normal. Under all the hatred and the pain, he was just like you and me.

Let's travel back in time to the point when the whole mess started, shall we?

It was a normal Michigan Saturday morning for me. It was just the beginning of October, so the weather outside was subject to randomly jumping between twenty degrees to being about fifty. That's what you get for living in a place with bipolar weather year-round. At that moment, I was just waking up. I've never been much of a morning person, but I could wake up early if I had to. I wouldn't enjoy it much, though. I was crawling out of my bed, tossing my extremely old Jigglypuff pillow to the floor as I did so. I had that thing for years. It wasn't much of a Balloon Pokémon anymore; it was all deflated and her curl had come undone. I blame my childhood fondness for not getting rid of it yet when it clearly needed to be dumped. I didn't bother making my bed; I never did. Living alone had both its perks and its flaws. One of the pluses was I didn't have to hear my parents nagging at me to do my morning routine every morning. I could skip a few steps and go straight to breakfast, which was what I did. Grabbing my white bathrobe, I tied it around my pajamas, which were really just my Jeff Dunham Achmed "Silence! I KEEL YOU!" T-shirt and some blue jeans that I wore the previous day.

Yeah, Jeff-fa-fa DunHAM was my favorite comedian ventriloquist. I had all his shows on DVD. It was one of the few things I actually obsessed over. Other things I obsessed over were anything related to Disney and vampires that WEREN'T Twilight related.

I had basically pulled all-nighters the past two days. I had an important test to study for and it counted for a decent portion of my final grade in that class. So, today was my day for relaxing! I rushed down the stairs, heading for the kitchen to make myself breakfast…or lunch, since it was about noon when I woke up. I quickly pulled out a bagel and put it in my toaster. As I waited for the toaster to finish toasting my bagel, I pulled out a butter knife and the peanut butter from one of the cupboards.

Yes. I ate toasted bagels with peanut butter on it. There's nothing wrong with that. It's just like peanut butter on toast, only rounder.

I put the peanut butter and knife on the small round table, fit for maybe three people. I went back upstairs to my study room to grab my laptop. That thing was like a second heart to me. I couldn't live without it. I was always doing something on it, whether reading, watching YouTube, or doing homework. This time, however, I was doing something completely different from my usual norm.

My best friend, Bethany Dale, oftentimes nicknamed "BaD" by me, had insisted that I try out the Naruto anime series. She was a proud "Narutard", short for diehard Naruto fan. I prefer the other more insulting meaning of the term when referring to her. She was a complete ditz, yet she still managed to get better grades in her college classes than I did. Sometimes, I really wonder how she did it when she seemed to define the term "dumb blonde" personality-wise. Anyway, she had pestered me countless times to try watching the series. Each time, I ignored her. Until today.

The sneaky bimbo had blackmailed me into doing two things: she was basically forcing me to watch the series until the current subbed episodes and she was going to force me to cosplay as a Naruto character this Halloween. As to which one, I had no clue. I didn't watch a lot of Japanese anime like her. The only ones I did watch were Hellsing—mainly because of the maturity, the bloody violence, and the badass vampires, including Count Dracula himself—and Pokémon when I was like ten. I grew out of the latter…mostly.

I sighed as I stared at the small white package containing the DVD. I could still remember the day she bought it off some weirdo creep in a hood as we were walking home from school. The guy had seemed awfully suspicious, but she couldn't turn down the chance of adding more Naruto merchandise to her already massive collection. She had harems of plushies of every male Naruto character in her bedroom, I swear it! And she constantly fondled her "precious Weasel-chan" plushie whenever she could, whoever the hell that was. You know it's bad if I use the word "fondle". You cannot put that word in any sentence to make it have a positive connotation. I dare you to try it.

"You're grumpy, Senpai!" she said. "You're just like Sasu-sama; all mean and cranky with everyone and everything in the world!"

"I'd rather be a dwarf than be like you," is what I dryly said in response. "You're a nut."

In all honesty, she was. I mean, who speaks to people using Japanese honorifics when addressing someone from AMERICA? Apparently, "senpai" meant senior and "sama" meant someone really important. I didn't care too much. I'm already partly crazy because she's my best friend and she's very eccentric. Thankfully, she didn't hail Japan as the center of the universe and the center of her life. She did like a lot of Japanese things, such as games like Final Fantasy and animes like Naruto. She apparently preferred the dubbed versions more so than watching the episodes with subtitles, but that didn't stop her from watching the original Japanese versions of them either.

I took the DVD out of its package and opened my laptop's disk drive. I placed the DVD inside, but didn't push it in yet since I heard the pop of my toaster, signaling my bagel was done being toasted. I hastily went to the kitchen, grabbed my bagel, my peanut butter, and my butter knife before going back to the living room. I pushed the DVD in, spreading peanut butter on my bagel as I waited for the stupid thing to boot up. I wasn't looking forward to watching whatever crap this "Masashi Kishimoto" decided to draw and call it an actual story. Munching on my crunchy, peanut-buttery bread, I waited. There was a pop-up window, signaling that the DVD was being read and was getting ready to show me the main menu.

However, my computer screen suddenly went black!

I sat there on the floor, jaw hanging open with mushed up peanut butter bagel still inside my mouth. If anything bad happened to my laptop, there would be serious hell to pay. I could make Hell itself freeze over if I got seriously angry. It was a rather frightening experience for whoever was on the receiving end of it. Tables and sharp, pointy objects were kept well out of my reach for that specific reason. BaD had been that unfortunate victim many times, yet she still pissed me off when she could.

"Bethany…if my computer died…I promise you, you will feel a wrath far more deadly than that of ten thousand Team Edward fans fighting each other to get laid by their sparkly idol!" I swore under my breath, my hand clenching tighter onto the butter knife in my hand.

The black screen soon changed into what I call "the blue screen of death", where it was a blue screen with various numbers, letters, and other such nonsense listed on it. But what was strange was the symbols were flashing before my eyes, as if someone was typing them in at a rapid pace from someplace else since I certainly didn't have my hands on the keyboard. The screen suddenly glowed a bright white right in my pupils. I slammed the palms of my hands to my eyes. It was worse than the flash of a camera! I heard a sharp whirring sound, making me fear that my laptop might explode if this crazy scene went on any longer. The whirring kept increasing in volume as well as the light. It felt like hours before the whirring suddenly stopped.

I heard a loud grunt as the floor below me shook. The fucking hell just happened? I peeked through my fingers, my eyes nearly bulging at what I saw.

It was a guy. No, it wasn't your typical guy, Mr. Tall, Handsome, and Horny-as-FUCK. I could tell this guy was different. Waaaaaaaaaaaay different. For starters, he had spiky hair that was longer than my own, reaching to about his lower back in length and looking to be in better care too! There was so much wrongness with that picture. What guy actually WANTS long hair and can actually pull it off well? Zero, Zip, Zilch, Nada.

The second thing I noticed was what he was wearing. He looked to be wearing some red armor over black clothes with matching black gloves and some oddly shaped sandals were on his feet, which were taped up for whatever weird reason. The last thing I noticed—to be honest, it really should have been the first thing to notice, but I was too stupid to bother since I was trying to figure out why a guy had spontaneously appeared from nowhere—was the giant fan-like thingy lying not too far from him. It was white and had these weird commas on it and it was round. To me, it looked like the shape of a person's butt.

I hereby dubbed thee, "Ass Fan". May you always be used to blow asses for personal pleasure. Amen.

I just sat there on the floor, not moving an inch. My thoughts were racing as my heart pounded wildly in my chest. Who was this dude and what kind of audacity did he have for trying to sneak into my house!? Why was he dressed up like some ninja on crack? Why did he have an Ass Fan? Why was he here?

Instead of doing the reasonable thing and running for the closest phone to call the police and inform them that a mental patient dressed as a ninja on crack wielding an Ass Fan had just invaded my home, I went against common sense and moved closer to the seemingly unconscious guy. Curiosity, I curse thee with every fiber of my being. You will kill me one day just like it did to Jasper the cat. They say curiosity killed the cat, but that cat never had a name so I personally named him Jasper. Bless his little kitty heart up there in the clouds.

I slowly tiptoed up to him, peanut-butter bagel and knife still in hand. The floor creaked under my feet, causing me to internally groan. My house was the worst house to sneak around in. The floors creaked if you put too much pressure in certain spots, making these loud noises that you could hear from just about anywhere in the house. I got closer, ignoring the protesting floor, curious to see what his face looked like since his back was facing me.

I barely let out a startled yelp as I felt myself slammed into the floor the next second. How in the world I was standing one second and ended up on the floor in the next stupefied me completely. That shouldn't be humanly possible, no matter how strong or fast someone is. My eyes were closed as the pain on my back quickly blossomed from a slight tingle that I could ignore to a full-blown—


Yeah. Like that. It's hard to describe pain other than with the words you hiss out when you feel it.

"Don't move."

I snapped my eyes open at the deep masculine voice, finding its owner right above my face. His face was fair-skinned with no visual flaw messing it up. I was instantly jealous. I had the worst problem when it came to acne. WHY were some blessed with no acne in their lives while others had to constantly apply facial crap just to tame it!? It was mutiny against the natural stages of adolescence! MUTINY, I SAY!

His eyebrows were creased, as if he was angry at something. I briefly scanned over his eyes; they were blood-red. I blinked stupidly a few times just to make sure I wasn't seeing things. He was using special contacts, perhaps? I noticed that he held both my wrists in one hand, forcing them above my head so I couldn't use them though I somehow managed to remain holding onto my precious peanut-butter bagel. My eyes then traveled downward when I felt something cool touch my throat. I found my peanut butter-coated butter knife in his other hand, holding it against my throat in a threatening manner.

I nearly died trying to hold my laughter in. Who the fuck in their right mind threatens someone with a butter knife? Especially one still coated in peanut butter? That just added to the insanity of the situation.

"It's not like I can move with you lying on top of me, pervert," I answered wryly, taking note of the rather suggestive positioning we were in.

I felt the knife dig deeper into my neck. I could feel it pressing against my jugular. As hilarious as everything was, this guy was serious. He was holding me hostage in my own home with a butter knife. Oh, the humiliation. I could just imagine BaD's reaction if she found out.

"Look, buster," I said, narrowing my eyes at the man. "I don't care if you are part of a secret organization of BKN, but you are breaking and entering and now you're assaulting me with a weapon. I could have you arrested for this."

"BKN?" he questioned. He was more interested in the acronym instead of worrying about being arrested? What the heck was this guy playing at?

"Butter Knife Ninjas, ya vampire reject," I deadpanned. "Now put the kitchen utensil away, Cuckoo-ca-choo. Don't need you poking your eye out with it."

"Do have any idea who you're speaking to?" he said in that deadly tone that could stop a whiny baby's crying in an instant, pressing the knife even harder into the tender skin on my neck. The thing was more serrated than most butter knives, so it could do harm if you're not careful; I cut my tongue on it once. If the knife was pushed any harder into my neck, I feared it'd finally break the skin and then I'd have a mess I wouldn't be able to clean up: my slow and bloody death. Even so, I rolled my eyes at the crackpot. He was going to get the exact answer he deserved.

"A crazy dude who's laying over me like a rapist and threatening me with a butter knife," I snapped back. My eyes then widened in realization. "Or you're a hallucination."

That was it. That had to be the answer. I knew it. I had finally cracked. I was suffering from schizophrenia. After being surrounded by the idiots of the world and the Narutardness of BaD's obsession, I had finally lost my last bit of sanity. They said that a sign of schizophrenia was hallucinations and they appeared very real to the person suffering from it. Well, this seemed damn real but it was too crazy to be real. Way ta think things through logically while being under pressure, Lilith! Congratulations!

"I'm no hallucination."

"See, that's exactly what a hallucination would say! You WANT me to believe that you're real! Well, you cannot fool me with your lies, infidel!" I said, taking on Achmed's accent just because I could. "I shall ignore you even if you don't go away! This I swear!"

He just looked at me with a blank face, but I could see the gears working in his mind. "What da hell has this chick been smoking?" was probably along the lines of what he was thinking. I oftentimes wondered what caused me to do really stupid and foolish things that could potentially get me into a shitload of trouble; like antagonize a mental ninja castoff wielding a butter knife. Maybe BaD had an influence on me. She'd be the type of person to tackle-glomp this guy.

"What's your name, anyway?" I asked.

"You're in no position to be asking anything," he said sharply. "Where have you taken me? Who are you working for? What sort of jutsu did you use?"

I just stared at him, giving him my best "are you fucking kidding me?" expression. This hallucination was rather stupid. You'd think since he came from my mind, he'd know where we were. And what nonsense was he talking about? Jootsoo? Like Jujitsu? I had no effing clue.

"I haven't taken you anywhere, crackpot," I said. "You just suddenly popped into my living room after my precious PC went kaput after putting in a stupid Naruto DVD. We're in my house, obviously, and we're the only people here. I work as a waitress at Red Robin's…does that count as working for someone, since technically I'm serving the general population like a slave?"

"Where specifically? Is this still the Land of Fire? Answer."

"Umm…this is Detroit; and a rather dumpy place at the moment," I told him. "This isn't Avatar: The Last Airbender, Mr. Ninja; this is reality. Damn, you're a weird ass hallucination. Considering you're from my mind, I would've thought you'd know."

The knife in his hand slackened the slightest bit, his eyes looking skeptically at me. I just glared at him.

"I've traveled far across the land during the wars that constantly plagued the Land of Fire and I've never heard of any 'Detroit'. Do not lie to me, woman."

Well, this was going to be problematic.

"If you would get off me, I'll get my iPhone and prove it to you," I suggested.

His eyes narrowed at me. I don't think he trusted me enough for me to be wandering off. He was damn right too. If he ever let me go, I would run straight to my iPhone and call 911. Either this guy was seriously irrational and desperately needed some psychiatric help or I was completely insane and I needed the psychiatric help. I held eye contact with his nose since the red eyes were kind of freaky. It reminded me of Dracula from Hellsing; long hair and red eyes. Only things missing were the sexy Romanian accent, the old-styled Turkish armor, and the mustache.

I snorted as I imagined a mustache on this guy. That looked so wrong.

I let out a squeak when he suddenly let go of my wrists—which were surely going to bruise later or it would be a figment of my imagination and I just thought they'd be bruised—and grabbed my head. He got closer to my face, staring right into my eyes with those creepy ruby orbs. I felt my mind becoming foggy the longer I looked at them. I felt him let go of my face, seeing him stand up to his full height. I felt my body moving against my will, standing up as well. I felt small compared to him; he had to be at least a head or two taller than I was. He glared down at me.

"I'll ask again; where is this place?"

"Detroit, Michigan. United States. North America," I felt myself answer without meaning to.

Was I hypnotized? That was so cool! He could do hypnosis with his eyes! Wait…he was supposed to be an illusion. Can hallucinations use hypnosis? Frick; this was so messed up. Now I KNOW I'm suffering from schizophrenia if I'm being hypnotized by a delusion.

"…Where is this…'Detroit' in the Elemental Nations?"

"There are no Elemental Nations," I answered. "There are seven continents in the world: North America, South America, Asia, Europe, Africa, Australia, and Antarctica. None contain anything resembling the name of 'Elemental Nations'."

"What? What sort of jutsu…?"

"I don't know what 'jutsu' is, but the closest thing I can think of in name is Jujitsu, which is a style of unarmed combat. All I know is that you suddenly appeared in this room after I placed my friend's Naruto DVD into my computer after it seemingly froze."

"I see…this is problematic."

No shit, Sherlock. So, not even Spikes knows what the hell happened to him. This is just peachy. I felt whatever fog that had been cast over my mind lift. I glared heatedly at the black-haired bastard.

"What was that all about!?" I snapped at him angrily.

"I had to verify whether you were telling the truth or not, servant girl. Everyone is capable of lying, peasant and shinobi alike. There are those who are even better liars than I am. Even if you're no shinobi, you are still a potential threat."

"Hey, hey, hey! I may work as a waitress, but I'm not someone's maid!" I shouted at him, taking the "servant girl" address as an insult. "Who do you think you are, you prissy pretty-boy!?"

"I'm under no obligation to tell you anything, wench," he said coldly.

"I'm not a prostitute either!" I yelled again. This guy was pissing me off. First, he threatens me, then he mind-fucks me, and then he has the frickin' nerve to label me a slut!? I'd mentally shear his mane of hair off when he sleeps next! He is MY hallucination, after all. I should be able to have some form of control over him, shouldn't I?

"I will be using this residence for now until I can return to Konohagakure," he stated as he went to pick up his Ass Fan.

"Say WHAT!?" I nearly screamed. Now he's staying with me!? "I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS!"

"I decided for you," he quipped in response. I was on the verge of tearing my hair out at that point. "You have no choice in the matter, servant girl."

I threw my peanut-butter bagel at his back, hoping to ruin his mane of hair. He threw the butter knife he held at the flying bagel, not even bothering to turn around. Both objects whizzed by me at an astounding speed, blowing my hair slightly as I heard a thunk. I turned to look at my wall. The knife was imbedded into my wall, piercing my bagel with precise accuracy.

My poor peanut-butter bagel…Thou have been impaled. I shall AVENGE you!

I went through a quick recap of how the fuck I landed myself into such a situation: weird random guy appears out of thin air, ninja dude threatens me, hypnotizes me, then decides he's gonna be a freeloader, and then he kills my bagel.

What. The. Fuck. Just. Happened?

Oh yeah; that's right. I went insane.


I got inspiration for this little plot-bunny after reading IceCrystal7's hilarious fanfic "Invade My World? Enjoy Yourself Then!" and its prequel "Kidnap Me? Have Fun With That!" The complete randomness and the slight romance between her OC and Itachi got me reading other OC stories. Then I noticed something: most of the time, the female OC knows everything about the Naruto series, the character she's being paired with, and she usually ends up in the Naruto universe.

So, I'm taking a bit of a spin on this. This time, a Naruto character is sent to the real world and is forced to rely on an OC who knows NOTHING about the Naruto series or who's she's dealing within order to "fit in" the real world until he finds his way back home. I wanted to try something new and I've come to really like Madara Uchiha as a character. I haven't seen a story where he's thrust into the real world or paired with a normal OC from the human world, so I wanted to try it out and see how it went.

I want to make this clear: this Madara is the one who still has his friendship with Hashirama after forming the village, but before the animosity over the title of Hokage. This is also my first time writing Madara, so I hope I managed to keep him in character. Please be gentle with me because it's my first time. His personality is rather difficult to get a grasp of.