Chapter Text
When Sayoko died, it was expected. She was, after all, terribly sick, with what I would assume to be Cystic Fibrosis, if I was to hazard a guess. Considering all of the symptoms she showed matched that; chronic coughing, the wincing sound of wheezing with about every breath she took, the worse she would get anytime she encountered the common cold. Sayoko would end up spending weeks upon weeks in bed just trying her best to recover, not to mention the frequent hemoptysis episodes she would endure persistently.
So when I was standing over her grave at the tender age of two, with no one but Aki to hold my hand;
I wasn't very surprised.
Whether or not this world had any knowledge of the disease was beyond me, but even if they did, there wasn't much anyone could do, with the harrowing lack of technology and any willingness to look at the science behind things, meant that in her disease-state,
she was abandoned.
I pondered if she would have lived back in my original lifetime. While there were no chakra-inducing Justu or grade-A medical Ninjustu to stitch whole limbs back on in the middle of a battlefield, or suck out deadly poisons using an airborn water bubble, there was however, an unbounding drive to understand body systems and how diseases actually worked. We understood much more than traits like Kekkei Genkai being inherited, we understood how they were inherited. So maybe, just maybe, she could have stood a chance.
I didn't know the woman very well, all I knew was that she was firy, high-spirited (even at her most fragile) and had an unyielding kindness for everyone. Not many were at her funeral, I was surprised however when the Hokages showed up. Both Minato and Hiruzen stood with their heads bowed in mourning. Apart from some other people that worked at the compound, there were not many that came.
I stared at Sayoko’s name. It was an ironically sunny day, due to the mid-summer weather; her favorite season. She used to argue with her carers to spend the lazy days outside when the sun was beaming, despite the risk of getting sick again. I deemed it fitting for her send off, just as she would have liked it. In the end, she wasn't one for sulking around. Sparse clouds dabbed the sky that morning, not a lick of rain was present. The sun reflected off of the polished name on the gravestone,
‘In loving memory of Senju Sayoko.'
Senju Sayoko.
She was my mother.
Well, at least in this life.
I never saw her much due to her illness and I not having lived very long, and yet, there was still a heaviness that lurked over my heart as I watched dusted flowers cover her grave. A pit of anger swirled in my stomach. I swore after last time that I wouldn't get attached, not again. I would not be a fool again.
Aki must have mistaken my burning resolve for discomfort, as she tightened her hold on my hand.
“Do not worry Hime, I will be here to look after you, I will not go anywhere.”
I peeked a look up and caught her old, tired eyes that reflected grief, sorrow and pity— it really irked me.
I didn't need her pity nor her care.
If I was a normal two year old, I would say fair enough, but I wasn't—anything but actually. I had lived a whole twenty four years in my previous lifetime before somehow being thrusted into this body and this world. A world I had no idea existed outside of a simple story in my past life. A source of entertainment when I came home from a strenuous day's work.
Aki had always been around me. She was the first face that I had seen when I was born (the second time). She was there much more than Sayoko was. Despite her old age, she still continued to serve the Senju passionately. And she was the only thing that I had left.
I hung my head to hide the vexation on my face–not here, this was not the time nor place to get angry. I stared at a lonely patch of grass and blocked out what was being said during the ceremony.
It was none of my business anyway.
Aki was an old soul for sure, with a tender heart and a passion for her ‘purpose’. She was proper in the way she did just about everything. From how she ate, to how she lifted her cup off of the table, to how she greeted others and even how she addressed me.
‘Hime’.
I wasn’t a fan of the word, but according to Aki “It is proper etiquette and that is the way I will continue to address you.” I never fought it, after all, stubbornness was also something this aged woman possessed.
It had been over a year and a half since the passing of Sayoko. The Senju compound was closed with no-one being able to run or look after it. Sayoko was the head of the compound as a result of Tsunade going AWOL and there being no other Senju descendents to take the seat. When she was buried, many of the employees looking after the grounds had left, leaving only my legal guardian and I. There was no way an elderly lady and a toddler were capable of manning a whole estate by themselves, so Aki moved us out to a small house east of the village. It was a little isolated from the main town, with the back garden connecting to one of the main civvy forests and a worn-out training ground that practically went out of use.
Every morning we would head out early to catch good sales at the markets. She was surprisingly good at finding bargains and seemed to have great relations with the locals. Sometimes she would even leave me with one of her old friends Saya, who ran a local bakery, when she knew the markets would become extremely busy and seemingly not wanting to ‘throw me out to the wolves just yet’–- or something like that.
This was one of those mornings, I stood watching Saya knead the dough with her wrinkled fingers, and questioned how she still even had the strength in them, never mind manufacturing the produce she did on a daily basis, this woman was surely much older than Aki.
I tried to help her out where I could, be it handing her things or fetching her another cup of flour. When the bakery became quite packed, she ushered me into the back room— more than likely to get me out of the way. She left warm, honey-tea and a raspberry pastry for me to nibble on.
“I'll be back to check on you in a bit pet, be good for me now, won't you?” she smiled gently at me.
“I’ll be okay on my own Saya-san, you don't need to worry.” I gave her a light smile.
At that she gave a satisfied nod and rushed out the front. I grabbed the pastry and stuffed it into my small satchel that I had a habit of carrying with me everywhere. When I was sure that Saya was occupied, I pushed open the backdoor that led to a squashed alleyway, connected to the main streets. The sound of chatter became louder as I made my way towards the bustling main town.
Konoha was big.
I'm not sure how big I was expecting it to be, but the first time I had explored it I don't think I covered even a tenth of it’s berth. The streets were lively with civilians and shinobi were ubiquitous, hopping to and from rooftops. The Hokage mountain stood proudly, peering over the whole of the village. I dodged and weaved past a sea of legs, twisted around a maze of streets to find myself at the Konoha library; a place I had become very accustomed to over the past few months. The librarian didn't so much as look twice at me when I had walked in and made my way over to the general access section.
They had a broad range of books, however most were fiction or historical, there were few general access that actually contained any sort of ninjustu, or shinobi art by and large. I plucked one of the ‘Ninjustu Basics’ off the shelves and sat myself down to read.
The book went through how spiritual and physical chakra worked, where they came from and how they are utilized to make Justu. Some basic chakra control exercises along with how to find your affinity filled the majority of its content. I had practiced the leaf exercise a few times previously (Sayoko had shown me) and could just about hold out five minutes with it stuck to my forehead. It was actually very easy, chakra was surprisingly very simple to manipulate. I could feel it clearly within my system. When it came to distinguishing it, there was no difficulty– I put that up to the fact that I had lived a life without it.
I was enjoying my reading when a rowdy group of genin entered the library, I couldn't really see who it was, with the towering bookshelves blocking my view. The boisterous voices of one of them kept bouncing off the walls. I think the people at the other end of the building could hear him. I was on two minds whether to go and educate (read: slowly murder), whoever the fuck was shouting in a library.
Concluding that in this body I wouldn't stand a chance against a cottontail rabbit, I decided to huff my way over to the counter, check out my book and storm my way out of the front door, and if I chanced a look back to spot spiky silver hair, and a loud- mouth with goggles, well then that's nobody's business.
—-
I had nowhere to go. The library was the only place that I chose to read. There, or the tall zelkova tree that inhabited our back garden, so I decided to wander. The further I could get away from all of the hussle and bussle of the main street the higher my chances were at finding a suitable spot for some light reading. I trailed passed stalls, apartment complexes, small open restaurants before finally reaching a secluded part of the town. Considering the placement of the Hokage tower, I was probably close to one of Konoha village’s major forests. Many of the training grounds that were regularly utilized were located there. I sauntered past many tall wired gates fencing in large plots of forest, some had ninja training within them, others were fairly empty and some were so big that I couldn't see the other end of it.
Eventually I came across a lake.
I was mildly surprised to find a big spot of water that haden’t occupied a training ground. It was quite hidden, the vast trees surrounded the lake, boxing it in. The sun that was able to creep its way through the leaves danced on the lake, making it sparkle. I could hear the local birds twittering and fluttering about the branches.
It was perfect.
As I trekked my way further towards the edge, book in hand, I was in a content mood. Everything seemed to be fitting just right. Just as I was about to make camp at a nice little nook, I spotted a large dock that spanned about a quarter of the lake's width. It looked battered and well worn. The wooden edges had seen better days. Sitting on the end, was a little boy, probably not much older than I was. I couldn't see his face as his back was to me. I was about to make peace with doing my own thing, until I saw what looked to be a fan that was plastered proudly on the back of his shirt.
I paused. I thought. I looked. And then I realized—
that that little boy could be none other than Itachi Uchiha.
Itachi Uchiha.. the boy who will become a man, who will end up murdering his entire clan in cold blood to protect his precious little brother. It was odd to see him sitting there and being so young. His hair was still relatively short just scraping his chin from where I could see and his legs lazily hanging off the edge of the dock. He looked to be very carefree, not a care nor massacre in the world--- yet.
It took me about 2.5 seconds to come to a conclusion that being anywhere in a five-mile radius of that ticking time bomb was an extremely bad idea, so I slowly took a step back, and then another and then another until I heard a loud snap of a branch under my foot. It jolted me to turn tail and bolt.
I didn’t get very far since I was met with a chest of navy and carelessly slammed right into it, my nose stinging from the impact. My stomach dropped as I lost my footing, slipped on the slick marsh of the lake, and plummeted head-first into the deep, cold water.
It felt like sharp needles were pricking me from all sides, I lost my breath panicking and tried to orient myself. It was only when I didn't manage to pull myself back up that I realized—I forgot how to swim. My small body just couldn’t seem to pull itself anywhere, no matter how hard I thrashed and moved my small limbs. The familiar fear of death was creeping into the back of my mind, planting itself there. A flashback of my old life forcefully danced behind my eyes. I was looking at reports on my computer, the vials of blood, serum and other liquids lined up neatly on the side of my office desk. I watched as I scrolled down through the gory images and text. I caught a glimpse of myself running a sample through the computer and it signaling ‘match’ just before being jerked back to the present. The endless sea of blue stretched out for what looked like miles. The thumping from the rush of blood seemed to be the only thing I could focus on. I was struggling to tell what way was up or down, splashing and fluttering my arms in alarm, trying my best to do anything just to survive.
I don’t want to die.
I managed to swallow a bit of water, making my eyes and throat burn. A high pitched ringing started to wrack my hearing, my heart was in my throat and my lungs desperate for air. Before I could make heads or tails, two arms wrapped tightly around my torso and hauled me through the water and up to the surface.
Breaking the top of the lake and filling my lungs was a feeling I never thought I'd have the privilege of again. I was thrown onto my front, spluttering out bits of lake that was still stuck in my esophagus. I was so glad to feel the tickle of grass under my fingers that I nearly kissed it.
After heaving in gulpfuls of air, I wiped my running nose on my sleeve and sniffled. The temperate air of early spring was warm enough that I wasn't left shivering, well, except in post adrenaline rush.
As I was lifting my quivering form up a tiny, dripping wet, hand shot into view; followed by a young and concerned voice.
“Are you alright?”
I froze and looked at the squishy hand that was way too small to be anything other than a young child’s. I slowly trailed my eyes up the arm, attached to the hand, and up the small body attached to that, to meet two pitch black eyes, peering right into my own. They were framed with creased eyebrows, showcasing worry. They were, to describe them bluntly, very pretty. The cat-like shape that tapered off at the edges was still clear, despite the youthful roundness that plagued them. And those eyelashes—any woman would be steaming with jealousy.
I gaped at the poor boy, recognition of his features slowly but surely connecting; the tuft of curly hair on his head, the light dimples on his cheeks, the trace of lines under his eyes,this is—
“Shisui!”
We whipped our heads to the side to see a tiny Itachi shouting his cousin's name, running towards us. I felt my heart drop to the floor and my temperature below freezing. The pin-prick needles were back, crawling up my arms and spine, racking up my already present shivers.
The whole three years in the new body, I laid low. I ignored anyone that was related to cannon, and refused to even so much as look at them. I didn’t want any involvement. It could play out just as it needed to. Everything will go as it should and I'll move to a nice farmland off the border of a small village, enjoy my days planting, eating mushroom soup and live my life very happily. I had a plan, a full blown, wicked one at that, but staring at the face of these two young boys that were at the centre of the one of the biggest chain of events this universe had to offer, made me realize how much I fucked this, big time. I just plowed straight into the two main propellers of the whole ass plot—
--Well shit.