Summoning fox
Ritsuka sat cross-legged on the bed, the hospital sheets slightly crinkling under his weight. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft warmth over the room. With breakfast now settling peacefully in his stomach, his body no longer weak, he could finally focus.
He inhaled deeply. The air in this world—it was different. Fresher. Calmer. Almost… purer than his world. Ofcourse no pollution occured in this world yet.
“My body, my brain, and my soul—they’re all here, working in harmony,” he thought to himself, eyes gently closed. “If my theory is right, I can awaken my mana circuits in this world.”
His breaths slowed, his heart quieted, and the ambient sounds dulled into silence. With calm resolve, he began to reach inward—not for power, but for connection. He carefully called upon the mana buried deep within his soul, drawing only the faintest trace to begin. It weakened him momentarily, but he knew it was a necessary step.
“I need to make the connection first…”
The line between his soul and brain flickered into existence, a faint spiritual thread. From there, he focused, linking the third: the body. Slowly but surely, he wove the three together until the connection was complete.
Then came the surge.
Mana, pure and resonant, began to flow. Not from this world, but from within him—his own. The circuits began to construct themselves, knitting into the foundation of his body. Thin trails of glowing blue light wrapped around his skin like rivers under the surface. His body trembled slightly, but he endured it with practiced serenity.
A quiet smile tugged at his lips.
“I did it,” he whispered to himself. “The circuits… they’re alive.”
But then, sharp pain lanced through his right eye. His breath caught. Instinctively, he reached up, clutching at his face.
When he opened his right eye, he almost reeled backward.
Lines. Endless lines—tracing across the walls, the bed, even the air itself. Points, small and shining, scattered like starlight over everything.
He quickly shut the Right eye with his palm. Took a breath.
“…No way.”
He opened it again, carefully this time. The lines remained, marking the inevitable ends of everything.
Mystic Eyes of Death Perception.
The power to see the death of all things—not just the physical, but even the abstract. With this sight, he could sever existence itself.
[A/N: This Eye was introduced solely to protect his identity from mind readers, specifically the Uchiha. He won’t be overpowered or steal the spotlight from other characters, Even through he is strong with his shadow servants, but he will influence their paths and stories.]
His right eye was under Noble Rainbow colour with glow.
He lowered his hand, letting the truth settle.
“This isn’t a coincidence. Either something acted upon me… or this is the result of everything that’s happened.”
He recalled the moment in Lostbelt 7—falling from Storm Border, the cold embrace of Mictlanpa. He remembered giving up his Command Spells and Mastership to come back. He had died and returned. Again. And again. Each time, he touched death a little more intimately.
“…My brain, my soul… they recognized death,” he murmured. “But these eyes… only one of them changed.”
A realization struck him. A faint smile followed.
“Void Shiki,” he whispered fondly. “You did this, didn’t you? Quietly, without telling me. Watching over me as always.”
He closed his right eye again. “Thank you,” he whispered softly. “this eye will help to hide my secrets from mind readers."
"I’ll wait… until we meet again.”he thought about Void Shiki who is watching over him even now.
The moment passed like a breeze.
Just then, the nurse entered, a polite smile on her face as she brought in a tray. “Lunch is served,” she said warmly, placing it on the side table—a bowl of soup and a cup of water.
“Thank you very much,” Ritsuka replied gently, bowing his head to her.
As she left the room, he watched her go with a thoughtful gaze. 'She didn’t sense it, he noted. Even after I awakened my circuits… No reaction. That’s a relief.'
This world....the Naruto world....ran on chakra. But his body operated on something different. Mana. Circuits. A different system altogether.
“There are probably very few in this world who can sense my mana,” he considered. “But I’ll need to be careful around those who can.”
His gaze turned down to his injured leg. The pain was dull now, the swelling faded. It was time.
“Let’s begin the healing process,” he said quietly, placing his hand gently over the wound. Warm light began to pulse from his fingers, softly mending bone and muscle. His body would need time to adjust to the circuits—but he had that.
He folded his hands, bowing his head slightly.
“Itadakimasu,” he said, a smile on his lips, before picking up the spoon.
With quiet dignity, he began to eat, healing slowly, patiently, one breath at a time.
---
Ritsuka spent another quiet day in the hospital.
The gentle rustle of the wind outside the window and the muted chatter of nurses down the corridor provided a peaceful ambiance. He appreciated the calm—after all, it gave him time to think, to observe, and to heal, both inside and out.
The doctors and nurses had been kind. Their care was genuine, and even though he subtly guided his recovery with his mana, he made sure not to heal too fast. Drawing attention to himself was the last thing he wanted, especially in a world where chakra was the norm.
He spent some time reading whatever materials were available, carefully listening to passing conversations. The medical system here fascinated him—not just in how it worked, but in how it reflected the values of the society.
There were two kinds of doctors. Those who treated the commoners, and those trained to heal shinobi. The difference in training, approach, and expectations was significant. But the thing that stood out to Ritsuka the most was how much the ninja medics still cared for civilians, despite their primary role being battlefield healers.
“It’s impressive,” he thought as he stared out the window, watching a few birds flutter by. “In a world like this—where power matters most—they still found a way to prioritize compassion.”
He had almost forgotten side stories of Naruto show. But he can understand them from the books he read.
Speaking of books
He had heard of her too—Princess Tsunade. A legendary figure. Famous figure in Naruto show. The stories of her contributions to Konoha’s medical field were scattered through idle talks and pamphlets. She had pioneered methods of healing that drastically improved survival rates, even in combat. Specialized poison treatments, emergency healing techniques, chakra-enhanced surgery—these weren't just advancements; they were lifesaving miracles.
“She must have seen a lot of suffering to be driven that far,” Ritsuka murmured to himself. “It’s always those who’ve felt the deepest pain that seek to heal others the most.”he remember she lost her family member in the anime.
He turned back to look at his hands. They were steady now. Strong. His healing magic was working well—subtle, restrained, but effective. It would be another day or so before the doctors discharged him, but that was fine. He had time. And for now, the bed was warm, the food was decent, and the people were kind.
Then came the quiet conversation with the doctor that he had known was coming.
They had told him about his parents—how they had passed away some time ago. No foul play, just a quiet, simple tragedy. He had listened without interruption, simply nodding, his eyes cast toward the floor.
He didn’t cry. He didn’t need to. But the ache settled in his chest, heavy and familiar.
Another set of parents… gone.
In his original world, his biological parents were still alive—far removed from his battles, never knowing the weight their son carried. In Chaldea, his another family that had been built with bonds of flame and pain and laughter—Mash, Da Vinci, Romani… servants who had lived and died for him, with him.
And now, in this world, he was alone again.
Eighteen years old body. Legally an adult. No orphanage would take him in, and he didn’t expect anyone to.
Still, his thoughts weren’t bitter. Just… quiet.
“I hope you went peacefully,” he whispered one evening, sitting by the window under the moonlight. “Even if I don’t remember you, even if we only shared this body and not the same heart… thank you. For the warmth I feel in here—” he placed a hand over his chest “—thank you.”
He smiled softly to himself, a little wistful but sincere.
“May the next life be kinder to you.”
The wind outside stirred again, gently ruffling his hair. He took it as a sign of farewell. A gentle goodbye from two souls he’d never meet, but still felt.
That night, as he lay down on the hospital bed and pulled the blanket over himself, And with that, he drifted into a peaceful sleep.
---
The sun filtered gently through the clouds as Ritsuka stepped out of the hospital, finally discharged. The bandage that had once covered his forehead was gone, and his steps were steady. His body, now healed entirely through quiet use of mana, no longer bore any trace of his earlier injuries.
But the moment he set foot into the village streets, the weight in his chest returned.
The Konoha he had once seen in anime—vibrant, noisy, alive—was now hushed. The cheerful voices of children, the lively banter of vendors, the steady rhythm of life had been replaced by stillness. By grief.
Here and there, people moved quietly through the ruins, helping clear debris, salvaging belongings, comforting one another. Though the evacuation had saved many, death still hung in the air. The Nine-Tails had not discriminated between ninja and civilian. Konoha had bled.
Ritsuka walked with purpose, guided by the inherited memories of this body. He didn't speak. He didn’t want to intrude on anyone's grief. All he could offer was a gentle nod, a quiet presence. He remembered too well what it meant to survive when others didn't.
When he turned a corner, his eyes were drawn up—toward the steep mountain that stood at the edge of the village.
There, carved into the rock with a precision that seemed to defy time, were the faces of the four Hokages. Each face radiated a unique dignity—Hashirama’s calm strength, Tobirama’s cold resolve, Hiruzen’s wisdom, and Minato’s gentle smile. The monument was massive, unshakable, and yet... even it seemed to mourn the village below.
It was breathtaking—and bittersweet.
But the ruins around him painted a harsh contrast. Crumbled buildings, shattered windows, broken signs. The vibrant Konoha from his past life’s screen had become a hushed battlefield of healing.
A wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"The Nine-Tails would do an awesome job if he was hired to demolish buildings in my previous life," Ritsuka murmured under his breath.
It wasn’t meant to be cold. Just a brief attempt at humor to soften the sharp sting of grief in his chest.
He passed by a group of children helping an old man gather scattered belongings. He stopped, knelt down silently, and offered a gentle hand to lift a broken box. The old man thanked him with a tired smile.
"You're a kind soul, young man."
Ritsuka smiled back faintly. “Just doing what I can.”
As he continued on, something tugged at his senses. A pressure. Subtle, but distinct. A pulse of something unnatural. Something... wrong.
He stopped walking.
His left hand moved slowly, fingers brushing over his chest, and then across his face as if shielding it from the wind. With practiced precision, he opened his right eye.
A shift.
The world around him altered instantly. The right eye, now glowing with a haunting beauty, shimmered with colors unseen by ordinary eyes—a ghostly opalescent hue that danced with shifting tones of blue, purple, and gray. At its center was a black sclera with a delicate pale-blue iris surrounded by faint pulsating cracks, like spiderweb fractures stretching through glass. A dark ring surrounded the pupil—faint but unmistakable.
Mystic Eyes of Death Perception.
To the world, he still looked calm, but inside he focused sharply.
Lines of death now etched across everything in his right eye field of vision. Trees. Buildings. Even the sky held faint patterns—quiet suggestions that even the heavens could die.
And then he saw it.
In the direction of the forest, just beyond the far edges of the village, there was a storm of black. Negative energy, swirling violently, as if anger and sorrow had taken physical form. The lines of death there were thick—angry—and unstable.
He covered his right eye gently, closing it to preserve his strength. Best not to overuse it. The headache would come later.
"That place… something’s gathering there," he murmured to himself.
But he didn’t rush. Moving too fast would draw attention, and he didn’t yet know if he was being watched. Chakra sensors, ANBU, or worse—if someone mistook him for the source of that energy…
No. Patience.
With quiet steps, he veered off the main path, making his way toward the woods, careful not to arouse suspicion. His presence became gentle, unthreatening. A traveler, perhaps. A curious civilian returning to familiar grounds. He slipped into the trees like a shadow.
As the forest thickened and the air grew colder, he felt it again—anger, resentment, hatred. A presence that had no place in a healing village.
The forest around him was quiet—eerily so. Birds no longer chirped. The wind had stilled. The trees, broken and burnt, stood like gravestones to a battle long past.
Ritsuka reached the heart of the destruction.
Ashes swirled gently around his ankles as he stepped through the clearing, eyes soft but focused. There—beneath the blackened branches and blood-stained earth—was a dark patch of dried crimson. The air here was heavy.
"This is where Minato and Kushina killed by Kurama," he whispered, kneeling down.
His fingers brushed the soil, reverent, remembering the anime scene from his past life. The sacrifices they made to protect Naruto when Kurama was about to kill him. The love shown. The future of Naruto protected at the cost of their life's.
"When Minato sealed Kurama with the Reaper Death Seal… you escaped from your realm. Seriously, you should have returned to your realm," Ritsuka said quietly, almost to the wind. "You shouldn’t have lingered. You shouldn’t have gathered the souls meant for the afterlife."
He rose slowly, a grave expression setting across his face. His right eye began to glow with faint colors, shimmering like a glass prism catching sunlight. The quiet black aura that always lingered deep within him began to rise like a slow tide.
He hadn’t summoned it consciously. It responded to his intent.
Dark energy radiated outward in gentle pulses—powerful, ancient, but still controlled. Still his.
Then the world shifted.
The temperature dropped. The light dimmed. And something tore into the world.
A shape emerged in the air—gray, skeletal, cloaked in writhing shadows. One of the Shinigami, the Death Reapers. Its body was incorporeal yet undeniable, its mouth open in a silent, gaping scream as it gathered a mass of trapped souls in long, clawed hands.
"A leftover from Minato’s summoning…" Ritsuka murmured, watching carefully. "No wonder that technique is forbidden."
The creature turned its gaze toward him. It screamed, though no sound came—just pressure, suffocating and furious.
But Ritsuka stood calm, his aura now rising like black fire. Glowing red Command Spells appeared on his hand as he raised his arm. His eyes didn’t waver.
"Death has no right to choose anything among the living… unless life breaks the laws of death first," he said, voice clear and unwavering.
The Reaper didn’t listen.
Instead, it lunged at him, claws ready to rip his soul from his body.
"You chose this."
A shadow bloomed behind him.
Tall.
Vast.
Ominous.
The shadow fell upon the ground covering Ritsuka like an eclipse, and from its center stepped forth a towering figure clad in shadow ancient armor, his presence commanding even the wind to still.
Shadow King Hassan. The First Hassan. The Old Man of the Mountain. But he is shadow not real servant.
The death that watches even Death.
In a flash of movement, the Shadow King appeared in front of Ritsuka and struck—a single, brutal kick that sent the Death Reaper crashing into the ground. The earth cracked under the impact. Dust burst into the air.
Before the Reaper could rise, a massive blade plunged through its chest.
The first Hassan shadow stood over it, expressionless, absolute.
The Reaper looked up—its final vision burned into eternity: the calm, glowing eyes of the boy who had defied fate.
And then, it was gone.
The air became still.
Dozens of lights—souls, pure and unburdened—rose into the air, free at last. Ritsuka watched them with a quiet smile, his heart lighter now.
"Rest well," he said softly. "You all deserve peace."
From where the Reaper had been, a small glowing orb floated down. A gift, or perhaps a leftover—spiritual energy, dense and potent.
Ritsuka caught it gently in his hand, studying its light.
"So much power," he murmured. "But… I can’t absorb this. My body wasn’t meant to handle something like this on its own."
The Shadow King returned to his side, silent as ever.
"Thank you, grandpa," Ritsuka whispered.
With a gesture of calm dismissal, he let the servant return to shadow. The field quieted once again.
He looked at the glowing orb. chakra, death energy, and lingering will—all mixed.
“Maybe… I can summon with Ninja traits Servants,” he said, looking around at the forest that once belonged to ninja legends. “Someone like…”
He paused. Names came to mind.
Fuuma Kotarou. Kashin Koji. Mochizuki Chiyome. Sugitani Zenjuubou. Katou Danzou.
Ninjas, assassins, warriors.
People who could understand this world better than even he could.
He knelt again—this time beside the place where Minato and Kushina had drawn their last breath. With a steady breath, he pulled a knife from his cloak and cut his palm. Blood dripped slowly as he drew a summoning circle on the ground, mixing his blood with the trace of Kushina’s—remnants of a Jinchuuriki’s strength.
He placed the energy orb in the center.
The circle began to glow faintly, reacting to both blood and will.
He narrowed his eyes. “Let this be enough.”
Light began to pour from the circle. Blinding. Powerful. Ethereal.
Ritsuka raised a hand to shield his eyes. His aura flared in response, not out of fear—but preparation.
He whispered under his breath, a smile tugging slightly at his lips.
“Come, my servant… walk this world journey once more with me.”
The light of the summoning circle began to fade, and with it, the figure that appeared in its center. A soft, almost ethereal glow surrounded the woman who had materialized before him. She was delicate, graceful, and in an instant, Ritsuka’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized her.
"Tamamo…" he whispered, his voice trembling.
Her form was unmistakable—Tamamo no Mae, the kind-hearted, gentle, and endlessly loving woman who had stood by his side through thick and thin in their past life. Seeing her again after so many years filled him with both joy and dread. He had never expected that the energy he had summoned would bring her back, and yet, here she was—like a dream come to life.
Her eyes fluttered open as she looked up at him. A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye, a tear of joy, and then another, cascading down her pale cheeks. "R-Ritsuka…" she whispered, her voice soft, shaky. "You… you finally Summoned me. You’re safe…”
Tamamo fell to her knees, unable to contain the overwhelming emotions welling up inside her. She reached out for him, and without thinking, Ritsuka rushed forward, his arms instinctively enveloping her in a tight, protective embrace.
"Tamamo!" Ritsuka cried, his voice strained with both relief and confusion. "What’s happening? Why are you glowing? Please, Tamamo… Open your eyes…! Please don’t leave me again…! Did my Summoning failed?? Please???"
Tamamo’s body shimmered, the glow intensifying around her as if something was pulling her away. Ritsuka’s face went pale, panic flooding his chest.
"Please…" he whispered, his heart pounding in his ears. "Please, stay with me."
Tamamo, despite her fading strength, gave him a soft smile, her voice weak but full of love. "I’m so glad… I’m so glad to see you again… Ritsuka… I’ve missed you so much…"
Ritsuka’s tears fell freely as he held her tighter, as if trying to keep her in this world, to stop the inevitable. "No! Don’t go! Please, Tamamo! You can’t leave me! I can’t lose you again…"
But despite his desperate pleas, Tamamo’s eyes slowly closed once more. Her once-vibrant form seemed to fade, slipping away from his grasp like sand through his fingers.
"Sniff…"
"That… hurts, Sour Plum…" Tamamo’s voice, though faint, was full of affection. A playful teasing smile curled on her lips, even as her energy waned.
"Sorry, my bad. But if I don’t do this, you’ll go off somewhere…" Ritsuka whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Tamamo’s soft laughter echoed faintly in his ears, and she sighed, her body growing soft and warm in his arms. "I shall not go anywhere… I shall be at… your side, Ritsuka. Always."
The words hung in the air, like a promise. But Ritsuka felt his heart break with every passing second. Her body was growing colder, and her breath was growing shallower. The glow around her flickered, becoming weaker.
"Tamamo…?" His voice cracked as he called her name, his tears soaking into her hair. He held her hand tightly, refusing to let go.
"Please, open your eyes… Tamamo! Stay with me!" His voice was desperate, a plea for something—anything—to keep her from slipping away.
Tamamo, her form so fragile, gave him a small, tired smile, her eyes barely opening. "Somehow… I’m very sleepy… I’m sorry… Let me sleep just a little… and when I wake… soon… for your sake… I shall be…"
"Never mind all that!" Ritsuka’s voice wavered, the raw emotion breaking through. "You don't need to do anything. It's fine if you're just with me… so please, Tamamo, stay with me…!"
He clutched her tightly, the weight of his love and his desperation filling the space between them. He refused to believe this could be the end. He wouldn’t accept it. His heart hurt in ways he couldn’t explain, his mind refusing to let go of the woman who had given him so much.
Tamamo smiled softly, her voice barely a whisper. "May I say something… selfish?"
Ritsuka’s breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his eyes shining with tears. "Say it, say anything! I’ll listen to anything, I’ll do anything, so…"
"I want you to say… that you… love me."
Ritsuka’s heart skipped a beat, and the pressure in his chest grew heavier. He shook his head from side to side, trying to dispel the heaviness weighing on him. But his love for her was unwavering, and with trembling hands, he gently cupped her face and whispered softly, "I love you."
"I really love you, Tamamo. Of course, I do… I love everything about you—your fox ears, your smile, your heart, most of all your fox TAIL… everything."
Tamamo’s red cheeks flushed, and a small giggle escaped her lips. "Ah… I’m so happy."
She remembered how he relaxed with her tail in past life.
Ritsuka felt her strength slipping away from him, and his heart clenched painfully. "Wait, Tamamo… don’t leave me, not like this!"
His tears fell freely, but he held her even tighter, desperate to keep her with him. "I don’t want to… laugh and talk about the future without you…! I need you here…"
Tamamo’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it was filled with the warmth of her love. "In that future, can I be by your side?"
Ritsuka nodded vigorously, his voice thick with emotion. "Of course. I won’t let you be anywhere else. Not now, not ever."
Tamamo smiled softly, and her hand gently brushed the tears from his face. "I’m glad to hear that, husband."
Ritsuka wiped his eyes with a trembling hand and stared at her with resolve. "You’re mine. I won’t let anyone else take you from me."
Tamamo’s eyes sparkled with affection. "I shall take that as a commitment."
"Huh?" Ritsuka blinked, momentarily taken aback by her playful tone.
Before he could process her words, something unexpected happened. Tamamo slowly opened her eyes, her glow beginning to fade, and she sat up in his arms, looking at him with a teasing smile. The faint shimmer that had surrounded her disappeared completely, leaving Ritsuka completely dumbfounded.
"You promised that I would be by your side, husband… You cannot take it back now."
Ritsuka’s heart stopped for a moment as he realized what had happened. His mind scrambled to understand what had just occurred. "W-What…? Tamamo, you—"
In an instant, she closed one eye and gently placed a finger on his lips, silencing him.
"Mikko!!" She said teasing him.
Ritsuka slumped against the ground, utterly exhausted from the rollercoaster of emotions.
"Why you… you, you… youuuu Can't do this to me!!!"
Tamamo couldn’t help but laugh softly at his reaction. "Yes, I am Ritsuka’s Tamamo. In name and in fact."
Ritsuka's mouth opened and closed in disbelief, his mind still struggling to grasp what had just happened. He had thought he was losing her, but now—now, it seemed that she had been playing him all along.
"We’ve both aired our true feelings, so that’s really overkill…"
Tamamo gave him a teasing wink, and Ritsuka’s cheeks flushed, realizing he had been tricked. But despite the initial shock, his heart swelled with relief and affection.
"Girls are strong when they become honest about love, husband," Tamamo teased, her voice soft but full of warmth.
Ritsuka’s face reddened as he let out a small, flustered sigh. "…If you’d died, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I don’t think I could’ve survived it."
Tamamo’s smile softened, and she reached out to gently caress his cheek. "I am a lucky woman that you think so much of me."
"I’m not kidding, either," Ritsuka replied, his voice steady but full of sincerity. "I can’t lose you now, Tamamo. I need you, always." He already lost more in his life.
Tamamo's eyes sparkled with affection as she leaned closer, resting her forehead against his. "I absolutely must not die, then."
"Of course not," Ritsuka said, his tone firm.
Tamamo wiped away a tear that had escaped from his eye, her hand gentle against his skin. "Sorry, husband, but as your wife, I want first place in your heart."
Ritsuka smiled softly, feeling the weight of her words settle into his heart. "You already have it," he murmured.
They stayed like that for a while, their foreheads touching, eyes closed as they shared the quiet, intimate moment. In each other’s presence, they found comfort and peace, their love as steadfast as the bond they had forged over time.
"I love you, Tamamo," Ritsuka whispered, his voice full of tenderness.
"I love you too, my dear husband," Tamamo replied, her voice warm and full of affection. "And I’ll always be by your side."
As they sat there, locked in an embrace, their hearts beat as one, a promise of unwavering love between them. They knew there would be trials ahead, but for now, in this moment, they were content to simply be together—loving each other, always.
---
Note: I'm happy to get good response from good readers. I will continue this story but updates maybe slow because I love my other fics too. So wait for chapters in future. Also this chapter took more time than I thought. How is it.? Okay I'm going to write another chapter of kamen rider so bye. See you later with another chapter. Next chapter is ready but tomorrow I will post it.