# Chapter 1: From Man to Breakfast Meat Death, as it turns out, isn't the worst thing that can happen to you. Being reincarnated as a pig is definitely up there on the list, though. One moment I was Mister Pipi—yes, that's actually my name, blame my parents—crossing the street after a particularly mundane day at my office job. The next moment involved screeching tires, a flash of headlights, and the distinct sensation of being turned into human origami by a delivery truck. Then... nothing. Until I woke up here. Wherever "here" was. My first conscious thought was that everything smelled wrong. Not just different—overwhelmingly, disgustingly wrong. Imagine taking every smell you've ever experienced, multiplying it by ten, then shoving it directly into your brain. That's what hit me when I first opened my eyes. My second thought was more of a realization: I couldn't feel my fingers. Or my toes. Or my anything that should have been human. I tried to stand up and promptly fell over onto my face. Except it wasn't my face. It was a snout. A pink, twitching snout attached to a body that was decidedly not the six-foot-one frame I'd been sporting for the last thirty-two years. "No," I tried to say, but all that came out was a strangled "Oink." Oh god. No. No no no. I scrambled in place, hooves—HOOVES!—clattering against the wooden floor of what I now realized was a small cage. I was in a cage. A pig-sized cage. Because I was a pig. This had to be a nightmare. Or a hallucination. Maybe the delivery truck hadn't killed me, and I was in a coma having the world's most elaborate dream. That had to be it. There was absolutely no way I had been reincarnated as a pig. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to ten. When I opened them again, I was still a pig. "The fresh shipment looks good!" a gruff voice called out somewhere above me. "Got some nice ones from that farm near Tanzaku Town." I looked up to see a burly man with a stained apron looming over my cage. Beyond him stretched what appeared to be some kind of outdoor market. Stalls lined a bustling street, vendors hawking everything from fruits and vegetables to weapons—wait, weapons? I blinked, focusing on a nearby stall where a thin man was demonstrating the balance of what looked like a very real, very sharp knife to a kid in a headband. Not just any headband—one with a metal plate bearing a swirling leaf symbol. No. Absolutely not. I refuse. But as I looked around more, taking in the distinctly Japanese architecture, the occasional person leaping between rooftops, and the mountain with four faces carved into it looming in the distance, the impossible truth sank in. I hadn't just been reincarnated as a pig. I'd been reincarnated as a pig in the world of Naruto. The anime. The manga. The fictional universe where children were trained to be magical ninja assassins. That Naruto. If I still had hands, I would have been clutching my head in disbelief. Instead, I just let out a distressed squeal and spun in a circle, bumping against the walls of my cage. "Settle down in there," the vendor muttered, giving my cage a light kick. "Save your energy for someone's dinner table." Dinner table? DINNER TABLE?! Oh god. I wasn't just a pig in the Naruto universe—I was livestock. Future bacon. A walking pork chop. This couldn't be happening. Not to me. I was Mister Pipi, a respectable (if boringly named) accountant with a 401(k) and a subscription to a wine-of-the-month club. I was not supposed to end up as someone's breakfast in a ninja fantasy world! As I was having my existential crisis, the market around me continued its normal bustle. The smell of grilled fish and vegetables wafted through the air, mixing with less pleasant odors that my new, hypersensitive pig nose picked up with disturbing clarity. People haggled over prices, children darted between stalls, and absolutely no one noticed or cared that one of the pigs in the livestock section was experiencing a complete psychological breakdown. I forced myself to calm down. Panicking wouldn't help. I needed to think, to plan, to figure out— "Whoa! Look at that pig!" A loud, excited voice cut through my thoughts. I turned toward the sound and saw a face that, even in my state of shock and disbelief, I recognized immediately. Spiky blonde hair. Bright blue eyes. Three whisker-like marks on each cheek. And an orange jumpsuit that practically screamed "I want everyone in a five-mile radius to notice me." Naruto Uzumaki. The main character himself. And he was staring right at me. "Hey, mister! How much for this pig?" he asked, pointing directly at my cage. The vendor looked down at Naruto with a mix of annoyance and thinly veiled contempt. "This isn't a pet shop, kid. These are meat pigs." "But I want this one!" Naruto insisted, pressing his face against my cage. "He looks smart!" I blinked at him. Did I look smart? Could pigs look smart? And more importantly, was Naruto Uzumaki seriously considering buying me? Wait. This could be my chance! Being someone's pet was infinitely better than being someone's dinner. I needed to make a good impression. I needed to look as cute and pet-worthy as possible. I stood up on my stubby legs and tried to do something endearing. What do cute animals do? I attempted a head tilt, which felt awkward with my pig anatomy, but Naruto's eyes lit up. "See! He understands me!" Naruto exclaimed. "How much?" The vendor sighed heavily. "Kid, do you even have money? And where would you keep a pig? These aren't house pets. They're dirty, they grow big, and they're meant for eating." "I've got money!" Naruto dug into his pocket and pulled out a small, frog-shaped wallet that looked stuffed to bursting. "And I've got my own apartment! I can keep him there!" I nodded enthusiastically in my cage, causing Naruto to point excitedly. "Look! He's nodding! He wants to come with me!" The vendor looked between Naruto and me, his expression growing increasingly exasperated. "That's just what pigs do, kid. They're not smart animals." He paused, then seemed to reconsider. "Actually, you know what? Fine. If you want to waste your money on a pig that's just going to make a mess of your home, be my guest." He named a price that meant nothing to me in my current state of pig-hood, but Naruto's eyes widened slightly before he set his jaw determinedly and began counting out bills from his frog wallet. "This better be worth it," the vendor muttered as he accepted Naruto's money. "Don't come crying to me when you realize you can't handle a livestock animal in an apartment." "I won't!" Naruto said confidently. "Me and... um... Pork Chop are gonna be best friends!" Pork Chop? PORK CHOP?! I was not going to answer to Pork Chop! I let out an indignant squeal. "Huh, he doesn't like that name," Naruto observed, surprisingly perceptive for once. "Okay, how about... Bacon?" I squealed even louder, thrashing in my cage. "Alright, alright!" Naruto laughed. "I'll think of something better." The vendor rolled his eyes as he unlocked my cage. "Whatever you name it, it's still just a pig." He reached in and, before I could react, grabbed me by my midsection and lifted me out. Being picked up as a pig was a new and thoroughly unpleasant experience. I felt vulnerable and undignified, my stubby legs dangling uselessly in the air. The vendor unceremoniously handed me over to Naruto, who took me with surprising gentleness. "He's heavier than he looks," Naruto commented, adjusting his grip on me. He cradled me against his chest, which was a vast improvement over being dangled by the vendor. "They all are," the vendor said dismissively. "Good luck, kid. You're gonna need it." Naruto didn't seem bothered by the vendor's lack of faith. Instead, he looked down at me with a wide grin. "Let's go home, pig! I'll show you where you're gonna live now!" And just like that, I found myself being carried through the streets of Konoha in the arms of the future Seventh Hokage. People stared as we passed, some pointing and whispering. I couldn't blame them—it wasn't every day you saw a kid in an orange jumpsuit parading around with a live pig. "Everyone's looking at us," Naruto said, but he didn't sound bothered. If anything, he seemed pleased by the attention. "They're probably jealous I got such a cool pet!" I highly doubted that was what they were thinking, but I didn't have the heart (or the vocal cords) to correct him. Besides, for the first time since waking up as a pig, I was starting to feel a tiny bit hopeful. Being Naruto's pet wouldn't be so bad, right? He was the hero of the story. He'd protect me. Keep me safe. Not eat me. As we walked, Naruto kept up a steady stream of one-sided conversation. "I've never had a pet before," he confided. "The landlord doesn't usually allow them, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right? And you're small now, so we can hide you if he comes by." Small now? What did he think was going to happen? Did he not realize pigs could grow to be hundreds of pounds? Actually, knowing Naruto, he probably didn't. "We'll have so much fun together! You can help me train, and we can eat ramen, and you can sleep in my room!" His enthusiasm was both endearing and concerning. I had the distinct feeling Naruto had no idea what he was getting into. After walking for what felt like forever (pig legs are not made for long-distance travel, even when being carried), we arrived at an apartment building that had seen better days. Peeling paint, rusty railings, and a general air of neglect suggested this wasn't exactly prime real estate. "Home sweet home," Naruto announced as we climbed several flights of stairs. I noticed a few neighbors peeking out of their doors, only to quickly shut them when they saw Naruto approaching. The cold treatment didn't seem to faze him, but I felt a pang of sadness, remembering what I knew about his childhood from the series. He fumbled with his keys for a moment, still holding me with one arm, before finally managing to unlock his door. "Welcome to your new home!" he declared as he pushed the door open. The smell hit me first. My newly enhanced pig senses were bombarded with the scents of instant ramen, dirty laundry, and stale air. As Naruto carried me inside and set me down on the floor, I got my first look at his living conditions. To say the apartment was messy would be like saying the ocean is a bit damp. Clothes were strewn everywhere. Empty ramen cups formed precarious towers on every surface. The trash appeared to have not been taken out in weeks, if not months. And was that a carton of milk sitting on the counter? The expiration date was probably written in ancient hieroglyphics by now. "What do you think?" Naruto asked, looking genuinely excited to show off his home. I thought it was a health hazard. I thought it made my college dorm room look like a surgical theater by comparison. I thought there was probably new life evolving in the sink. But all I could do was let out a small "oink" that Naruto immediately interpreted as approval. "I knew you'd like it!" he said, beaming. "Let me show you around." The "tour" took approximately thirty seconds, as the apartment consisted of one main room that served as both living room and bedroom, a tiny kitchen area, and a bathroom that I immediately decided I would rather not see the inside of. "And this is where I eat!" Naruto proudly gestured to a small table covered in, surprise surprise, more empty ramen cups. "Speaking of which, you must be hungry! Let me get you something to eat!" Before I could protest (not that I could have, what with the whole pig thing), Naruto bounded over to his kitchen and began rummaging through cabinets. I took the opportunity to try out my new legs properly, cautiously walking around the apartment and trying not to step on anything that might be alive. Walking as a pig was... weird. Four legs instead of two, a center of gravity much closer to the ground, and a constant sense that I might tip over if I moved too quickly. It was like being drunk, except instead of waking up with a hangover, I'd woken up as bacon-in-waiting. "Found it!" Naruto called triumphantly. I turned to see him holding a cup of instant ramen. "This is the best food ever! You're gonna love it!" Oh no. No, no, no. He wasn't seriously going to— He was. Naruto filled the cup with hot water from a kettle, waited an agonizing three minutes (during which he told me all about how he was going to be Hokage someday), and then poured half of the ramen into a bowl. "Here you go!" he said, placing the bowl on the floor in front of me. "Careful, it's hot!" I stared at the bowl of instant ramen in horror. The artificial smell of chicken flavoring assaulted my nose. Little pieces of dehydrated vegetables floated in the oily broth. This was what he was offering me? This was what he thought pigs ate? I looked up at Naruto, who was watching me expectantly, slurping his own portion of ramen directly from the cup. Then I looked back at the bowl of sodium-laden noodles on the floor. This was my life now. I, formerly known as Mister Pipi, accountant and human being, was now a pig being offered instant ramen by a fictional anime character in his disaster zone of an apartment. I nudged the bowl with my snout, watching the broth slosh over the sides onto the already stained floor. The reality of my situation hit me with full force. I wasn't just in another world or another body. I was at the complete mercy of a twelve-year-old boy who thought pigs could eat ramen and live in apartments. Naruto misinterpreted my hesitation. "Don't worry if you don't finish it all! You're probably not used to such good food." He reached down and patted my head, his hand surprisingly gentle. "We're gonna have a great time together, believe it!" As he continued eating his ramen, chattering about his day and his dreams between slurps, I sat there in stunned silence, staring at the unappetizing bowl before me. From man to pig. From my world to Naruto's. From independence to pet. I had no idea how this had happened or why. I didn't know if there was any way to change back, to return to my world, or even to communicate my predicament to anyone. All I knew was that I was now living in a messy apartment with the most hyperactive ninja in anime history, and he expected me to eat instant ramen. I gingerly dipped my snout into the broth, took a tentative taste, and immediately recoiled. It was even worse than it smelled—oversalted, artificial, and nothing like what a pig should eat. Naruto laughed at my reaction. "You'll get used to it! Ramen is the food of the gods!" I seriously doubted that. As I sat there, watching Naruto finish his meal with enthusiastic slurping noises, one thought kept cycling through my mind: This was going to be a very, very long second life.