THE COVER PHOTO IS NOT MINE, I REPEAT IT IS NOT MINE. YOU CAN FIND THE REAL ARTIST HERE ON A FREE WALLPAPERS (I THINK) WEBSITE.

https://www.zerochan.net/1314464

I will be displaying warnings at the start of each chapter for those who are squeamish or may be uncomfortable with certain things etc.

Warnings:
MC death, mentions of depression, mentions of blood and a bit of gore. No beta.

Disclaimer:
I will say this once. I do not own Naruto or any of the characters. If I did The akatsuki would have never died. I do own a bit of the plot and my OCs but I don't own cannon. (Which is going to be shredded into itty bitty pieces)

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                              (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀)

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In a society so advanced in medical technology and safety precautions, you don't normally ponder about getting crushed by a truck—or smooshed into nothing via a falling piano.

Well I didn't at least.

Adrenaline works wonders for you when you're bleeding out on the sidewalk, no pain, no thundering noise or explosions. Well there is pain but just like my consciousness it's fading fast. I almost couldn't hear the car alarms or the shouting (that sounded so faint they may as well be from the other side of the city) in the background. Just....Silence. It reminded me of being submerged underwater, only that the water was acid and you're only half drowning.

Peaceful is not be how I'd describe it, everything was elsewhere. No noise other than your own wheezing as you tried to scream with a shattered windpipe, as you do.

Just the norm.

In retrospect I've always thought my death would be more memorable, I mean losing a few limbs sure is memorable but still—I want a refund. If I was going to die I do it in style, flaming balls of fire and all. Not the cold hard concrete and rocks (or where they shards of glass?) that dug into my bleeding scalp. Not the hazy nausea or the ringing in my ears. (Was there ringing or was it just too silent? I can't tell anymore.)

I remember all those times a friend jokingly asked me how I wanted to die for fun. I remember always answering "With style and a shit ton of porn". It always got a scoff or a snort of laughter from my peers because hello? It sounded ridiculous.

I really should be more panicked about this. I'm missing both my arms and a bloody leg, both turned to mush underneath the weight of the car. (Not a fallen piano, although I do prefer that over the car) the situation haven't set in yet for me and everything felt numb. Even when my body uncontrollably jerked and thrashed thanks to the actual fucking electricity running through my veins.

Great.

Wonderful.

My vision started to fade even more, no longer a mess of colors and double images but rather a painful collision of black spots and flashing neon lights. I hope thats the ambulance.

The faces of my friends and family flash before me in my mind, the last thing I see. It's a shame I couldn't say goodbye although I don't think I can talk right now, nor were they here with me. The smell of blood and the violent sting of electricity sends me off like a warm goodbye party sent by the devil. I tried speaking again but it only came out as a pathetic whine. Did trying to talk hurt? I couldn't tell anymore, everything was a blur.

I tried moving the tips of my fingers in an attempt to regain self control, they refused to obey my orders. My five senses were all dull and hazy, again like I was plunged into an unforgiving ocean. At this point I'd wish for the cold, or hot, or anything.

Please, just let me feel something.

The last thing I felt (Saw? Heard? I don't know) before passing was being lifted up, hopefully by a fancy smancy silk stretcher. I was moved forwards and then...I plunged deeper.

Into the darkness.

Into nothing.

It's all gone...

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                              (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀)

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It was dark, but not cold.

Crowded but not uncomfortable.

I couldn't move and yet it didn't scare me.
.
.
.
What was happening?

Why was it so warm? Why where there muffled voices from time to time? Am I still inside the ambulance? It felt safe here.

But I didn't want to stay here. I couldn't move my limbs or open my eyes and that alone was enough to put me off. I liked being able to do what I want thank you very much.

But I can't fight it. My limbs still refused to obey me—what an ass.

Hello? Mom, dad? Baby bro?
.
.
.
Am I in a coma?

It wasn't until three months later that I learnt how I very much in fact, was not in a coma but rather the opposite. I was a baby.

A reborn, reincarnated baby.

Ah, correction.

A very annoyed reborn, reincarnated baby with the mind of an adult.

Oh dear.

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                              (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀)

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"Hiroshi Nariko"

It was the most prominent thing on the room—my room! My very own room with no other siblings or disturbances! Visible from my crib and even from under the chair, it's like a bloody company name just painted on the wall with fancy calligraphy looking like characters. One of my first memories in this god forsaken dangerously terrible fuckin- world was my new mother teaching me how to write my own name. As a baby, a six month old baby.

I don't know what she expected from someone who couldn't even control their own piss let alone their chubby and might I add clumsy hands. I'm no expert on children but I'm pretty damn sure that she was being utterly ridiculous.

"Na-ri-ko. It means Lawful child." She said happily, sending me a beaming smile that warmed my insides. The smile assured me that I was safe and most importantly loved. I may not know how to write it but I sure do know how to read. Well I mean the only thing I could read was my name but that's not the point. I could read japanese dammit!! And not just the easy peasy Hiragana but actual characters! Although they were like two or three characters total.

The meaning of my name made me back track. Why the hell am I named lawful child? Was there some sort of message or hidden motives in naming me that? I wasn't a goody-two-shoes back in my old world but that didn't mean I'd break the law willy-nilly.

Heck the most law breaking thing I've done was pirate movies and jaywalk. No drugs, no underage drinking and surly no murdering, no matter how tempted I was at family gatherings. Everyone has that one aunt or uncle you just can't stand.

It was a very standard normalish life with the usual dose of existential crises and fangasums. One younger sibling, a father and two mothers—one divorced. Rich enough to send us to collage but poor enough that we don't go on yearly holidays. Nothing special and yet I loved that life with a passion.

I was free, just got my full licence a year before my death and having the time of my life. It was during summer break. I was old enough to do my own thing, I had my own apartment that I shared with my three other roommates—who I got along with well.

It was a windy Thursday, movie night at our apartment. That night we would be binge watching some classics old horror films, both the bad and good ones. We would laugh and scream together, throw popcorn at the tv whenever the characters did something dumb. Ali would be the loudest as she tends to get scared the most and I would be that one asshole that'd randomly grabbed her feet to scare her. Thila would slap me for it while Jenny would be too immersed to notice.

We always did that, next week it would have been a Harry Potter marathon (Ali's choice) and then it was Thila's turn to chose, knowing her it'd probably be an anime of some sort. Jenny would just chose a sappy Kdrama and spend the rest of the night pretending to be the main character. My heart squeezed at thought of them and the corners of my mouth twitched downward in a frown. I miss them and I would never see them again.

My father was a hardworking man but he was easy going and trusted me to make my own decisions. I had free range of my neighbourhood by the age of six and then free range of the city by twelve. Call it bad parenting but I would disagree. It taught me to be more self motivated and driven, more independent, more of my own person. I had control of my own life and I loved it. I loved him.

.....I miss him....

I can't remember my old mom that well, dad never talks about her that much. But from asking around the family (who were very much reluctant) I learnt that she was a fun loving person who chose her work in favour of her kid and husband. My father seamed to detest her but I didn't. I don't hate her. I think I could even get along with her.

Everyone should have the right to choose what they want to do in life, even though it was pretty irresponsible and selfish. I don't know much about her so I really can't judge, any information I can get on her is all negative. I sure wonder why. Then again I never found out what she did for a living, it could have been important or heck, maybe even dangerous. So dangerous that she had to leave her loving husband and newborn child for some reason. Or maybe she was just a adrenaline loving semi adult with commitment issues, give or take.

She never planned to get pregnant and I can understand that. I won't want to give birth either, call me a coward but it's true. Kids I'd love one day but I'd much rather adopt than give birth, and for that I could understand how my mom must have felt. I don't hate her but I don't love her either, for I never knew her.

My stepmom was different. She dedicated herself to being a housewife for me and my step brother. She was firm and strict but selfless and caring all the same. She pushed me and my brother to achieve the best while my dad didn't care as long as we were doing okay at school. She dragged me out of my teenage angst kicking and screaming as soon as I started that phase and I loved her for that. I miss her.

My brother is a twat. Simple as that. He's quiet and reserved in public but his attitude does a complete 180 when he's around family, that being—a spoiled annoying drama queen. If I told him to jump he would sit, if I told him to swim he'd pretend to drown just to get me in trouble. He was by far the biggest brat I've ever meet, your typical annoying younger brother. But even he had his sweet moments. Silently handing me chocolates bars if I was on that time of the month, glaring down any male friend I had even though he was seven years younger than us. I loved him. I miss him.

So so much. My little baby brother.

Feelings of grief and loss swirled in me like a typhoon of utter bullshit. I don't like being down, I don't like feeling sad. I've had the fair share of feeling like shit and I've managed to break out of it with years of progress. Yes I have been through depression and I can proudly say that I beat it's ass.

I was at the height of my life, just starting to love myself again, just starting enjoy life—just starting to really live.

And it was all ripped away from me.

My family, my friends. The university I worked so hard to get into. Everything.

Gone.

Slipped through my fingers like grains of sand. Like water. Like air it fled.

A split second was all it took, a lose car from a tow truck.

A struggling driver working on minimum wage as uncaring higher ups stacked more and more work onto him.

A flawed system.

'No!' I screamed at myself. I've had my time to mourn. It's been one bloody year since I've been reborn. One whole year of remembering the past and grieving over my losses. Recollecting and going though every memory my itty bitty baby brain could handle at the moment. Everything down the the color of my brother's favourite console to my dad's hatred for soft beds. At least if I cried my new...parents would just brush it off as a baby thing. I had that going for me at least.

But now that I've had time to mourn, time for my mind to catch up with my body and enter this new reality enough was enough. My dad didn't raise a weeping mushroom and god forbid if my stepmom found out about my year long sulking. My brother would just snort and call me a sap. Staying stuck on one thing was not my style. I, Lucia Orlando was adaptable, fluid like water and twice as strong. Even the bloody dinosaurs were wiped out simply because they could not adapt. I refused to be the same. I am adaptable, I am an independent adult in a child's body.

I am in a child's body.

A child.

Me.

Sigh.

So why the hell was I here. Did this happen to everyone? Do people who die get transported into another life all the time or was I just the odd ball, a one in a billion? I paused mid thought grimacing at that idea. Gee it sure makes me feel better to know that I'm utterly alone in this.

From the corner of my eye I could see a glimpse of my mother's (god that felt weird) figure walk past my door...slide thing. The paper slide thing that traditional Japanese houses has, um yea that.

That women was a good mother, caring and attentive. She emitted warmth and joy just from her bright toothy smile and dorky dimples on clear skin. Ridiculous she might be but she hasn't given me a reason to dislike her—quite the opposite really. She let me explore on my own (of course keeping a watchful eye on me) and babble to myself in incoherent phrases and sounds, even in the middle of the night. From my alreadylivedthankyouverymuch life of free roaming and being trusted to do my own thing I deeply appreciated that. I appreciated how she let me do things at my own pace. I appreciate her.

But did I love her?

Hmmm...

My cubby hands gripped the railing tighter, a smooth woody texture on my unblemished skin. 'Okay, Okay so we've established that I was reborn. How is God's name I still don't know.' Being reincarnated was quite the...experience. I'll save you the glorious details and just say that it was wet and hella scary. Did I cry? Well of course I did! I just got squeezed out of something the size of my thumb and than passed around from giant to giant while my limbs were restricted in a towel. Besides scarring and disturbing it was also downrightterrifying. You can bet your ass that I cried.

It's been a year and I've accepted being reborn. A second chance many might not get. Maybe this was the universe's way of apologising for ripping me away from my ideal, happy life that my father and I worked so damn hard for.

If it was. I accept the apology. My new mother seamed chill enough, I wonder what I can do this this life. What will I do, where will life take me?

I wasn't ashamed to admit the small swirl of excitement that chorused through me with that thought. A new life, a new start.

Looking around I studied the now familiar and comforting room. My room. Polished wooden floors that looked kind of like tatami mats. The cool wooden table that was low to the ground and the...the um...the sliddy door thingies that traditional Japanese houses have. Or was it Chinese? I was never good at history but my name proved that this was japan. Good. Joy. A new language to learn.

I seriously hope I'm not in like past japan, I can't live without technology...or pads.

The sliddy door thingy slid open to reveal the grinning face of my new mother. Her weird lavender eyes (they must be contacts right?) gleamed with mirth, tilting her head a bit to let some strands of chocolate brown fall frame her face. An expression I've come to become familiar with.

Already knowing what would happen, I tensed and braced myself.

It was playtime.

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                              (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀)

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Playtime is intense I tell you. It involves pretending to have the mind of dirt and trying to force my stubby little legs to move. My new mother had broke out in a squealing fit when she saw me try to walk for the first time. The noise hurt my ears but her beaming energy was enough to ease them. I guess after a year of nothing but crying and sulking she would have never expected the sudden positive development.

...I feel bad now, I probably worried her and stretched her patience thin after all the crying and fussing. Maybe I can make up for it by being a star child...?

Food for thought.

I was desperate for my motor skills to come back, I like being able to walk thank you very much. And so I practiced, I practiced a lot. Clutching onto the paper walls of the hallways I hauled myself up, balancing myself against them. If I leaned on the walls too much I would fall though but if I didn't then I would tumble down on my butt. Neither was ideal.

Moving one unsteady foot in front of the other is harder than you think. With heavy steps I leaned forwards to encourage my body to keep moving, taking one unstable step after another. My grip on the wooden parts of the sliddy door thing tightened when I wobbled, other arm flaying to balance myself before taking another shaky step. I breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that I didn't fall.

Yet.

Screw crawling, I'm skipping straight to walking. Would it tear my uncoordinated weak muscles? Who knows! But this is my second life and MAN am I inpatient to get started. I heard my mother giggle behind me, I think she was conversing with one of her friends.

Oh yea I forgot to mention this. My mother has friends over from time to time. Guess being a housewife wasn't as fun as it seamed. Not that it seemed like any fun at all. She had this one friend that visited frequently, another mother she calls "Chiyo-chan" who had weird white hair that was normally straight. I never got a good look at her eyes but I think they were green. I think...

The curiosity to know her eye color pledged my mind. My very curious knowledge hungry mind. Deciding "why not" I wobbled, stumping my feet in an attempt to turn around. It worked, surprisingly. Using what's left of my energy—which was not much at all, I made my way towards the two gossiping moms.

I was proud to say I only fell twice during the walk from the hallway into the living room. Very very proud.

My mother and the strange Chiyo-chan eased up their chattering to see me almost fall on my butt, tiny arms flying to try and steady myself. My mother laughed and than made cooing noises while Chiyo-chan smiled warmly at me.

With this new encouragement I stumble walked a bit faster, wobbling along. My heart jumped in my chest when I had to leave the safety of the sliddy door thingy and walk on my own very slowly towards the two women. I concentrated on my feet, just putting one ahead of the other. Yes that's right come on Lucia you can do this. I said to myself, brows furrowed so much in concentration that I didn't notice the smug look my mother sent Chiyo-chan.

With one sloppy step I stumbled, legs collapsing underneath me. I squeaked in surprise at the sudden change and braced myself for the fall only for warm hands to steady me. Blinking my eyes open when did I close them? I looked into my mother's warm lavender eyes. Words could not describe the relief I felt at that moment.

But actions can.

I beamed up at my mother with a happy, toothy grin accommodated with a bit of drool. Well. Kind of toothy. I only had four teeth at the moment, the rest are still growing in you see. Ouch.

"Good job Noriko! I'm so proud of you" she cooed, lifting me up as if I was Simba from the Lion king. That doesn't sound bad actually. I giggled as the fluttery feeling of falling tickled my insides–like the feeling you get when riding a roller coaster. My mother giggled alongside me. Throwing me up into the air and than catching me again with surprising grace. My mind warned me that Holy shit she's throwing a baby but my fun loving side dismissed the thought. It was fun! That's all that mattered...to me at least...

"Ah she's no longer a wailing fountain I see" an semi-familiar voice interrupted the mother daughter bonding moment. I turned my head towards Chiyo-chan and snorted at her blue eyes. Of course they'd be blue. Of course.

My mother giggled and slapped Chiyo-chan's shoulder. "Chiyoko! Don't say that in front of her!" She mock gasped in fake offence, sending a weak glare at 'Chiyoko.' Huh, so that's her real name. I thought.

Chiyoko laughed, raising her arms to fend off my mother's attacks. "Hey it's true, plus the brat can't understand us anyways." She defended herself.

My mother huffed, puffing up her cheeks. "She can too!" She bit back childishly. Well I kind of could, as long as they didn't speak so fast. There was still a lot of words I didn't understand.

But while the two had their chicken fight I, on the other hand was mauling over something much much more important.

I need my diaper changed.

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The next few months was spent practicing my motor skills. My hand eye coordination improved drastically as did my walking abilities. I could full out run now! As fast as my tiny toddler legs could take me. I can now also understand most of what's being said and also speak! So ha normal child development rates! You can go screw yourself.

Nothing can describe the smug feeling of saying my first words. "Kaa-chan!" I squealed one day while my mother threw me up and down. I felt like she deserved to be my first word for putting up with my year-long of intimidation of a weeping stump. I had never seen her so happy since then and oh boy would I make sure that changed. Her immediate reaction was to gasp and then proceed to squash me to her face while crying.

I think it went well.

Now as an almost two year old my Mother (Kaa-chan? Moma? What do I call her?) leaves me alone more and more to do house work. She had baby proofed the whole house (much to my disappointment) and so she felt that it was safe to let me roam free. I had proven to be an obedient child so far.

So far...

As soon as I started talking (or rather, talking in front of my mother. I practiced a lot at night) she started to integrate manners and "ladylike things" into me. They didn't work as well. Sure saying the thank yous and sorrys was easy for me as I've had that beaten into me via step mom but I absolutely refused to learn how to "pour tea for my elders" or "sit with a good posture." I don't think I need that stuff for where I want to go.

She has also continued the writing lessons. I could not only write my name now, I could also read and write hiragana! Yay!

...well then again I already knew how to write hiragana from the one year of Japanese I took back in high school...

...yay...?

Nowadays I've been watching my Mother (Moma?) like a hawk when ever she cooked. Cooking was a useful skill that my stepmom in my past life was hell bent on teaching me. Because she knew that no one else could or would teach me she took on that responsibility herself. I almost burnt the kitchen down on my first few tries but I slowly got the hang of it as I grew older. As a university student I can proudly say I only sometimes burnt down the kitchen.

But now all I had was knowledge. No muscle memories, no experience in this body, in this life. I want to move out already, I want to see the world and do things that I didn't get to back in my old world. And to do that I needed to re-learn how to cook—how to live by myself.

All this talk about my Mother sure makes me wonder where my father was. He doesn't usually interact with me, always outside somewhere. I think he's the workaholic type. He had lighter brown hair and golden eyes. I don't understand the people in this world, was this even my old world? Who the hell has golden eyes? My mom was one thing, she might just be a special case but my now my dad too? The first time I saw him I made an important conclusion, this was not my world.

Which only made me all the more eager to move the heck out.

My father always had furrowed eyebrows, his expression a constant state of stone cold. The only times I saw him smile was with me or my mother. It warmed my heart and filled it with gooey goodness when ever he came back cold, tired and worn from whatever he does and smiled so lovingly at my mother.

It was so cheesy.

Uck.

But at the same time it filled me with a sort of fondness and respect. He was obviously a hard worker and due to my dad in my past life I think highly of hard workers. I respect them. My new father was pretty okay.

He's not around much but from what I've seen, he's cool.

My life had been relatively normal until one fateful night where I just couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned in my crib, kicking the blankets every now and then. It was just so hot, so burning molten hot. It felt like it was coming from inside me, a heat unlike any other. It was moving, it was alive.

It was strange. The thing inside me. It provided me with a burning hot sensation that didn't hurt. Starting from my chest into the pit of my stomach. If I were to describe it I'd compare it to melted glass. Thick and hot. A semi liquid-solid inside me that liked to stick to each other. I found that I could make it move around my body if I concentrated enough. From my stomach to my chest to my arms and back. I didn't know what it was but it didn't scare me for some reason.

Which was odd because hello? This never happened in my past life what is this? Shouldn't I be scared of it?

I wasn't.

Instead I found the warmth to be oddly comforting. In my past life I never liked the heat and I didn't like summer either. It was too hot, it made my hands clammy and my skin sweaty. I didn't like it. I didn't like hot things. Well unless they were boys...

I carried that feeling into this life, I don't like the heat, I don't like being too hot. But this sensation didn't seem to bother me. My body even welcomed it, relaxing the more I played with whatever it is. Oh hell that sounded wrong.

Than again my life thus far is just a huge clusterfuck of wrong.

It did not occur to me that the thing was Chakra until I saw my father kiss my mother's cheek in the morning, make a handsign and fucking disappear with a poof.

What. The. Fuck.

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Following my discovery came a whiplash effect. The thin-I mean chakra intensified as if it knew that I knew. Whenever the sun went down and the temperatures dropped the chakra 'spoke' to me.

Not in a literal sense, chakra doesn't actually speak. But in a sense it communicated with me, comforted me, lured me. It wanted me to use it, to straighten it and help it thrive. Whenever I indulged the urges to play the chakra pulsed with excitement and delight. It was odd, it was freaking weird. The more I used it and played with it the more there were next time.

The series never said anything about this. It was always "spiritual energy this and physical energy that." Since when did physical energy have the ability to be sentient?

Was this even chakra? I've only seen my father disappear, it might be something else. There is no way in hell that your own superpowered aura communicated with you. No way. None.

......I hope it's not some kind of parasite or tapeworm....

Eww.

And with that in mind I finally convinced Mother to let me outside for the first time. If this was a ninja village I'd be able to confirm it by the surroundings. I'm not an obsessive fangirl for show HA! My knowledge was of use so SUCK IT universe!

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Walking hand in hand I finally exited out of the building–home that sheltered me for the first two and a half years of my life. The sun blinded me as birds chirped away in two beautiful willow trees that stood guard over a huge gate.

Just kidding. There was no happy sun to great me nor leafy greens or the smell of nature. Heck there wasn't any birdies singing either! The surroundings was erie and plain, everything was a sad sad grey color with the occasional maroon pillars. It was cold too, which I appreciated.

'Okay well definitely not Konoha and it's not raining either despite the clouds so not Ame either...then again am I really in the Naruto universe or am I just getting ahead of myself? Hmmm....'

My mother gently tugged me forwards as she merrily hummed. Me in one hand and a shopping bag in the other as she strolled through the sad looking district. In all honestly she looked out of place with her sunset looking kimono and black silhouettes, hair braided in the classic dead mom hairstyle. It made me worry a bit for her sanity.

She paused her relaxed pace in order to talk to a random lady with chestnut hair. Seizing the clance I glanced around more, a frown tugging at the edges of my face as I was only meet with more grey and dome looking like buildings. Some of which reached the sky or at least in my point of view. I hate being short.

'Not Suna seeing how I'm not fried to a crisp yet. Not Kumo either given how far away the clouds look.'

"Look at those mounds" I joked to myself in english, voice low in a whisper. I love innuendos.

"Hmm?" my mother turned to try and catch what I was saying, the lady pausing mid conversation to look over at me too.

I mentally slapped myself for slipping up and tried hiding it with a cheeky grin. "Nothing Kaa-chan!" I chipped, pretending to be the perfect image of innocence. My high pitched kiddish voice sure helped in that factor.

My mother giggled a bit at my antics, muttering something along the lines of "cute" under her breath. She looked back to the lady and paused as if realizing something.

"Ah sorry Kiyoko-chan! This here is my daughter Hiroshi Nariko. Nari-chan this is one of my colleges Hiroshi Kiyoko. She's also a clan member, now be nice and say hi!" Mother(Kaa-chan?) introduced us to each other whilst gesturing with her hands. Her voice peaked when she tried to encourage me.

'Wait what did she say? Clan member? What!? Nooooo way no way, absolutely not! Fuck this. Nope. No no no.' On the inside I was having a semi-mental meltdown (in public no less) the thoughts of nonononnoNONONO! Running through my head as I tried my best to deny it. I probably head it wrong ha! 'Yea she probably said something else, that has to be it! '

On the outside however I looked as dumbly happy as ever. "It's nice to meet you Hiroshi-san!" I greeted politely with a bow just like how mother taught me. 'Geez all the manner/ladylike lessons makes sense now'

I felt ready to start hyperventilating.

My mother's smile became a tab bit wider at my politeness, pride rolling off her in waves as she managed to make a two year old polite and not just shy. The lady, Kiyoko made a "hmm" sound as she thought, a small smile on her face as she nodded with approval. Approval of what?

Kiyoko looked like an upright lady, grace and elegance practically rolled off her in waves. Warm colored jade eyes observed me with a hint of intelligence, they went well with her semi braided light chestnut hair. She wore a neat, cleanly kept maroon kimono with silver lilly looking like patterns on the hems of the fabric. Of course I still thought my mother was prettier. A totally unbiased opinion.

Unable to hold it in I then blurted out "Clan?" in a strained voice. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach as I dreaded the answer.

My mother looked a bit taken aback while the Kiyoko lady looked absolutely appalled and then calculating.

Before my Mother/Kaa-chan could answer the lady stepped in to explain. "A clan is a large group of people that has a special trait called a kekkei genkai passed down though their bloodline. Everyone is related one way or another, no matter how distant." She explained in a smooth voice, tone a bit smug.

I did not miss the funny look she sent Kaa-chan/Mother.

"My my I'm surprised you don't know about this. It is after all one of the first things taught to youths of this clan, usually by their fathers. Hasn't yours been around to do so?" She smiled devilishly, sending my Kaa-chan(Just Kaa-chan?) a look with raised eyebrows. She lowered her voice, adopting a darker tone as she pinned Kaa-chan in place with her stare. "After all, the Hiroshi clan is one of the most treasured in the village, no?"

I frowned at her words, wanting to protest badly but I simply did not have the language down to properly roast her like BBC chicken yet. Yet...Just you wait.

I also didn't fully understand what kind of secret meanings this lady was implying. I knew she was verbally poking Kaa-chan with a stick, but why?

My Kaa-chan's smile stiffened as did her posture. Shoulders tensed and no longer relaxed, foot instinctively sliding into a more defensive formation. "When Nariko learns of the clan is none of your business Kiyoko. A child should not be burdened with politics so early on." Kaa-chan insisted with grit teeth. I suspected that her words had hidden meanings to them too.

"And I assure you that Gimaru-kun is doing the best he can." She added firmly with narrowed eyes.

I was surprised by her sudden shift from relaxed to defensive. A bit of my mind was cheering for her You go gurl! Preach! While the other half was reeling in despair at the newfound information. Clan? Why clan? Village? What village was this?! This better not be the mist oh sweet fuck if this was the mist I'd be six feet under before I'm six.

Looks like I wasn't the only one surprised by Kaa-chan's(It's okay to call her that right?) shift in mood. Kiyoko looked appalled and a bit irritated, her warm colored green eyes looked Kaa-chan up and down in the 'I am judging you' style.

Typical.

She sighed, shaking her head. "You can't keep her safe forever, you know what it means to be born as a third branch member. If she doesn't become a Ninja you'll have to marry her off." She stated bluntly.

Kaa-chan's grip on my hands tightened. I perked up at the news.

'Marriage? Being a ninja?' My heart thundered at the thought of being a ninja. Sure it sounded cool but killing and maiming is not my thing you see.

And neither is getting betrothed to some snot nosed brat.

My blood ran cold at that. No. No thank you, no hanky in the panky for me, ever.

But then I thought of 'ninja' and it's implications. That confirmed my chakra theory but...did I have what it takes?

Could I kill?

Could I let myself become a slave to the system? Trapped, controlled, nothing but a mindless soldier? I couldn't see myself throwing everything away for the sake of some dumb village. I didn't want that, I didn't want that at all.

The very thought of it brought a sinking feeling into my gut, it knotted my stomach and stabbed my heart. The very thought pains me. Like physically and mentally pained me.

I tensed up on reflex, the sound of my blood pulsing though my ears overtaking any other sounds. It was overwhelming and suffocating. It was like drowning in acid.

It was like-

I-it was like...

My mind flashed back to that. My final moments. The pulsing blood, the numbed senses and dulled hearing. The coughing, the feeling of sharp sharp glass and the vibrations of the pavement as dangerous cars sped past. My heart skipped a beat as adrenaline filled it to the brim, beating ever faster. My breathing quickened and my sight wavered.

The panic was broken with a trickle of something warm. Small at first before a dam broke and my body flooded with a surging comforting life unlike any other, it made my fingers tingle and my stomach unknot. It moved around me in gentle waves and wrapped me up in the middle like a burrito of warmth and safety. It whispered sweetly to me, comforting promises to never let that happen. To never let anything tie me down or control me, so that nothing will ever take away my freedom.

My chakra I realised.

'Maybe chakra wasn't that bad...' I thought off handedly as I slowly took a deep breath, calming down. The warm syrup like aura made me feel safer, more in control.

I blinked as I came back into reality.

"Anyways I'm off to see my son, he's being trained by his father and I wouldn't miss it for the world" Kiyoko hissed out the last few words with venom before abruptly leaving with a roll of her eyes. Kaa-chan took a step back at that, as if her words physically hurt her.

I squeezed her hand and sent her a small smile in my efforts to try and comfort her, there's not much a two year old can do. Kaa-chan squeezed my hand back but she kept her gaze on the back of Kiyoko's kimono.

Childishly I poked out my tonge at her as she left.

I could hear my Kaa-chan compose herself by taking in a few deep breaths before exhaling. She turned to me and smile a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Shall we continue dear? I was thinking on making some stir-fried dishes tonight along with a side of grilled chicken."

My smile dropped into a frown again, she was acting like none of that had just happened, probably thinking that I was too young to catch the verbal jabs thrown her way. Well bad news for you lady.

Instead I allowed her to drop the subject.

"Yes! Can we get some fruit too?" I asked with fake eagerness.

Hey if she was going to pretend I may as well too.