Naruto: The Viking Thorfin Becomes a Inuzuka In The World of Shinobi

The first thing Thorfinn noticed was warmth. Not the blistering heat of battle, not the suffocating fire of a burning village—but a gentle, comforting warmth.

He blinked his young, wide eyes, adjusting to the unfamiliar world around him. The ceiling above him was wooden, the scent of earth and fur filled the air, and soft candlelight cast flickering shadows along the walls. The sounds were different, too—muffled laughter, the distant barking of dogs, and the quiet hum of life.

This… wasn't where he had been before.

Then, there were voices—soft but firm, filled with something he didn't recognize at first.

Love.

"You're awake, little one."

He turned his head, his small body moving sluggishly. A woman was kneeling beside his futon, her deep brown eyes filled with warmth. She had wild, spiky black hair, a strong jawline, and the red fang-like markings of the Inuzuka clan on her cheeks. Her scent was familiar yet new, like the comforting musk of a wolf with the tenderness of a mother.

Mother.

"How are you feeling, pup?" she asked, brushing his messy blond hair back.

Thorfinn didn't know how to respond. It felt… foreign, this softness. He had grown up in a world where kindness was weakness, where a child was expected to harden their heart before they could even wield a blade. And yet, as he looked up into her face, he saw no expectations of violence—only care.

Before he could find words, another voice broke through.

"I told you, he's tough. He's an Inuzuka! Look at those little fangs coming in."

A man crouched beside them, grinning widely. His dark brown hair was shaggy, barely contained by the band tied around his forehead. His features were rugged, but his eyes were kind, filled with a fierce pride. His scent, too, was strong—like earth after rain, leather, and the lingering smell of dog fur.

Father.

Thorfinn sat up slowly, the weight of his small body unfamiliar. He looked down at his hands—tiny, soft, unscarred. Not the hands of a warrior. Not yet.

His mother ruffled his hair again. "Thorfin, sweetheart, you've been quiet since we found you. Are you hungry?"

Thorfinn hesitated but then gave a small nod. He wasn't sure why he felt like answering, but something about the way she spoke to him—like he was just a child, not an object for more political power—made it easier.

His father clapped his hands together. "That's what I like to hear! A growing pup needs meat! We'll get you the best cuts."

A loud bark sounded from the doorway, and Thorfinn turned sharply. A massive, white-furred hound trotted in, its piercing yellow eyes locking onto him. For a moment, instinct roared within him—was this a threat? A beast to slay?

But the dog simply padded up, sniffed him, and let out a low chuff before licking his face.

His mother laughed. "See? Even Kara approves of you."

Thorfinn blinked, his small fingers brushing against the thick fur of the dog. It was warm. Comforting. Real.

For the first time in two lifetimes, Thorfinn was in a place where he wasn't a warrior, a son to be discarded, or a weapon.

He was home.

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The Inuzuka household was filled with warmth and the scent of savory dishes as the family gathered around the low, wooden table. The air was rich with the sounds of soft chatter, the clink of chopsticks against ceramic bowls, and the rustling of warm cloth napkins.

Thorfinn sat at the table, still adjusting to his new life, his senses on alert despite the unfamiliar calmness of the situation. The meal laid before him was nothing like the cold nights alone with food from the convenience store he'd been accustomed to in his past life. He stared at the steaming bowl of rice, the grilled meat, the vibrant vegetables—each dish more inviting than anything he could've imagined as a warrior.

His mother, a woman whose strength was as evident as her tenderness, ladled a generous portion of food into his bowl. Her eyes met his briefly, soft and understanding, as though she could sense the storm of thoughts swirling inside his head.

"Eat up, Thorfin," she encouraged gently, her voice as soothing as the warmth radiating from the fire nearby. "You need your strength."

Thorfinn hesitated for a moment, then took his chopsticks and scooped up a mouthful of rice. He chewed slowly, the unfamiliar taste of the food a reminder of just how different this world was from the one he'd known. But there was something about it—something comforting in its simplicity—that tugged at his heart.

His father, with his broad grin and ever-present energy, dug into his own meal, tossing an occasional teasing glance at Thorfinn.

"Good, right?" he asked, his voice thick with pride. "Our clan's cooking is the best in Konoha, you know."

Thorfinn gave a small, noncommittal nod, his golden eyes glancing over the food once more. The quiet clatter of utensils filled the brief pause before his father continued.

"I'm glad to see you eating. Back in the day, we'd have to chase you down just to get a bite into you, eh, Kara?"

Kara, the white hound who had introduced himself so assertively earlier, barked loudly, his tail wagging enthusiastically. He was seated contentedly at the side of the room, watching the family with a satisfied glint in his eyes.

His mother smiled fondly, reaching over to ruffle Kara's ears. "Don't make him sound like a handful. You were the one who couldn't sit still at his age."

Thorfinn couldn't help but look up at his father, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. "You… weren't always this way?"

His father chuckled, an easy, almost careless laugh. "Nah, kid. We all have our wild days. I was just like you once—fighting for a place to belong."

Thorfinn's grip on his chopsticks tightened, a brief flash of the warrior he had been surfacing in his chest. The hunger for battle, the need to prove himself, still lingered. But here, in this home, with these people, the desire for violence felt… distant.

His mother noticed the shift in his demeanor. She leaned forward, her eyes soft but understanding. "It's okay, Thorfin. You don't have to fight if you don't want to. This is your family now. And you're safe here."

Her words were like a balm to a wound he didn't know he had, and for a brief moment, the tension in his chest loosened. He stared down at his bowl, the warm food in front of him no longer just sustenance, but a symbol of something new.

"I'm not sure how to do this…" Thorfinn murmured quietly, the weight of the unfamiliar settling into his chest.

His father gave a knowing smile, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed behind his head. "Doing what, kid?"

"Be… a son," Thorfinn admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

There was a quiet pause, a moment where even Kara seemed to still, sensing the gravity of Thorfinn's words. Then his father's voice broke the silence, deeper now, with the weight of years behind it.

"Being a son doesn't have a rulebook. You just… do your best. And that's enough."

His mother's voice added gently, "We don't need perfection. We just need you to be here."

Thorfinn's heart tightened, a strange warmth creeping into his chest. It was a feeling he had long forgotten—a feeling of being wanted, of being loved.

He looked up from his meal, his eyes meeting both his parents' gazes.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice thick with something that felt like emotion, but it was foreign, difficult to name.

His father grinned, giving him a playful wink. "That's the spirit! Now, finish your dinner. We've got dessert coming, and I'm not letting you off the hook so easily."

And so, the evening continued—lighthearted and easy, filled with laughter and the simple pleasures of a family that had accepted him into their fold. For the first time since he had arrived in this new world, Thorfinn felt a warmth inside that wasn't driven by the need to fight or survive.

He was home.

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* 2 Weeks Later *

The family's peaceful dinner continued, the warmth of their home contrasting with the coldness of the outside world. The sound of clinking dishes, quiet conversation, and the occasional playful bark of Kara set the rhythm of the evening. Thorfinn was beginning to feel more at ease, a sense of belonging filling the gap in his chest that had been hollow for so long. His parents had welcomed him into their home without question, showing him a kind of love and warmth he had never known before.

But just as his father was about to offer him a second helping of food, the door slid open with a sudden, foreboding creak.

Thorfinn looked up, his golden eyes narrowing instinctively. The man who entered the room was a figure of authority—and not one who brought good tidings. A figure he's seen before, and knew this wasn't going to be pleasant.

Danzo Shimura, the leader of Root, walked in, flanked by two men in standard ANBU gear. His presence was like a shadow that darkened the room despite the warmth inside. His cold, calculating eyes swept over the family, lingering on Thorfinn for a moment too long.

"I'm here for the boy," Danzo's voice was smooth but commanding, like a blade cutting through the air.

Thorfinn's father, Kenta Inuzuka, stood immediately, his broad frame blocking the man's view of his son.

"You're not taking him," Kara growled, his voice low and protective. "This is my son now. And we don't take kindly to outsiders barging into our home, especially when they come to steal him away."

Danzo's lips curled slightly in a cold, humorless smile. "Stealing? No, no. I'm offering him an opportunity. An opportunity to serve the village in a way that few can. A mind like his—born of warriors—will serve us well. We need him to fulfill his true potential, to be molded into a weapon for the village's future."

Kenta's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with protective fury. "No."

"You are betraying the village by not offering him to Root," Danzo countered, his tone sharp. "Your son could be a great asset if you only allow us to guide him. I'm giving you one last chance to do the right thing, Inuzuka."

The air in the room thickened, tension rising as both sides stared each other down. Thorfinn's mother, the woman who had protected him with nothing but love, stood as well, her eyes narrowed in disbelief and defiance.

"We will not allow him to become one of your mindless drones," she said, her voice steady, yet firm. "Thorfin is not a tool for your Root. He is a child, and he is our family. That's what matters, not your plans for him."

Danzo's gaze hardened, his smile never reaching his eyes. "Too bad. But it's out of your hands now."

With a sudden, cold command, he turned to his men. "Take him."

At once, the two Root agents moved with swift precision, chakra surging as they prepared to capture Thorfinn. But Kiba and his wife weren't going to let their son be taken so easily. The room exploded into action.

"Get back!" Kenta shouted, his voice booming. "You'll have to get through me first!"

Kenta launched himself forward with incredible speed, his Inuzuka instincts kicking in. "Fang Over Fang!" he roared, spinning into a whirling dervish of destructive force, his chakra-infused blades of wind cutting through the air like a storm.

But one of the Root agents was quick to counter. "Sealing Jutsu: Phantom Seal!" The agent formed a series of quick seals, releasing a wave of energy that hit Kenta directly, wrapping around his body and freezing him in place, rendering him immobile.

Kenta snarled, struggling against the hold, but the Root agent's technique held firm, ensuring he couldn't break free.

Meanwhile, Kenta's wife, a skilled Inuzuka as well, sprang into action, her eyes flashing with determination. She leaped toward the second Root agent, spinning through the air with incredible agility. "Ninken: Tracking Fang!" she called, summoning her ninja dogs to attack in tandem.

The dogs moved with instinctive precision, but the Root agent countered with a "Water Style: Water Dragon Jutsu!" A massive serpent of water shot toward the dogs, sweeping them away with the force of its onslaught, leaving the Inuzuka woman scrambling to stay on her feet.

"Hmph. You're just as stubborn as I was told," Danzo muttered, stepping back as the battle unfolded. His eyes narrowed as he watched the chaos.

Thorfinn's heart raced in his chest. His parents were struggling, but they weren't giving up—fighting for him, just like they promised. He could feel the pull of his past life, his instincts urging him to act, to fight.

But his father's struggle to protect him—to not give him up—filled him with a strength he hadn't known he could feel.

"Inuzuka Style: Double Wolf Fang!"

Thorfinn's mother shouted the technique's name, charging forward in a blur of motion. But her attack was intercepted, and with a sudden explosion of chakra, she was sent crashing into the wall. She groaned but pushed herself to her feet.

The Root agents were closing in. They weren't going to stop until they had him.

Danzo's expression remained unchanged as he ordered his men to finish what they started. "Take him."

And in that moment, Thorfinn realized just how far his family would go to protect him. Despite the harshness of the world, despite the battle for his future, they would fight. For him.

But in the end, it wasn't enough.

The Root agents, trained to capture without hesitation, overpowered the family's defense. Despite their best efforts, Kiba and his wife were restrained, and the shadowy figures of Danzo's men loomed larger than ever.

As the agents closed in on him, Thorfinn's golden eyes met his mother's for one last time. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion, but there was no time left.

SLASH 

With one swift movement of a kunai from Danzo, his mother's head fell to the floor as it's been severed. 

Hana!!!!

His father yelled with tears dripping from his eyes. But as he moved towards Danzo, four root agents pierced his body with swords, kunai's and various weapons.

With Danzo and the root agents walking out the house, then next with practiced procession burned the house leaving no trace of evidence.