Naruto 1. Prologue

Prologue:

Mark Twain once said, "let us so live that when we come to die, even the undertaker will be sorry." Somehow, I don't think I quite lived up to that expectation. In fact, I'm willing to bet said undertaker is happily enjoying his hard earned money from dumping my carcass into a glorified ditch. That is, if they ever found said carcass.

In my previous life, I had such big dreams, but none of the ambition to achieve them. I was content to passively drift through life, trying different skills and hobbies but never sticking with one. My home life wasn't remarkable either. I had a decent family, a normal one even- a loving mother, a protective older brother and an assorted bunch of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Really, the only thing worth any commentary about my previous life was my incredible love of reading. I learned to read from a young age and from there it became a never-ending cycle of reading and contemplating. This eventually pushed me into pursuing what my lifelong career was supposed to be- English teaching. Now though, my future is as unsteady as the ever changing tides of the sea.

Before I go any further, I should probably explain why I'm waxing poetic about my previous life when, obviously, I'm supposed to be dead. Well, to put it simply, I somehow managed to evade death via body snatching. That or I was designated to be that unlucky schmuck who was graced with the "gift" of reincarnation. Normally, that'd be just fine and dandy, seeing as I wouldn't remember anything about my past life and I'd become a whole new person with new memories. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case.

You see, it all started on a broiling hot spring day, right before spring finals at my college. One of my friends had burst into my dorm room with what seemed like a brilliant idea to go to the beach to fight off the heat. In my infinite wisdom, I decided to shrug off the plans I had made to study for the approaching finals and packed my bags for what was supposed to be a fun trip to the sea. At the time, I figured that the mounting stress from the finals and the tension that weighed on everyone's shoulders due to the continuous terrorist attacks near my hometown warranted a small respite.

When we had arrived at the beach, the whole span of white, powder-soft sand and turquoise blue sea was completely abandoned despite the perfect weather. Thinking nothing of it, we unpacked quickly and then rushed into the refreshing water. The first half hour we spent out there playing and relaxing seemed like something from a wonderful dream. It was blissful- empty of all the responsibility of adult life.

Blissful, that is, until I was thrust under the crest of an unusually strong wave and my feet were ripped out from under me. The next minute or so was a blur, but I must've hit my head on a rock or coral because I was so, so weak. When the rip tide that knocked me under the water finally weakened, I opened my eyes. They burned with the amount of salt in the water, but I had to know where I ended up.

What I saw, even now, still takes my breath away (hah!). The water, the same cruel force that slowly strangled the air, and consequently the life, out of me shimmered in a way that cast an otherworldly glow about the coral reefs surrounding my body. The bright colors of the reef fish and the anemones dazzled my vision in a way that nothing ever had, and even though I knew in the back of my mind that I was dying, I couldn't look away. I couldn't move. I couldn't think.

Eventually, that sight faded too and as my vision blacked out, the burning, _agonizing_, pain in my lungs became too much to bear and I slipped into darkness.

By all rights and means, I should have died in that moment and gone to Heaven or Hell, which ever I deserved, but I didn't. Something happened and I regained awareness. Wherever I was, it was warm and comfortable. Sure, it was a tiny bit cramped, but it wasn't anything I couldn't deal with. A long period of time passed where I reveled in the comfort of what I supposed was the afterlife, as strange as it was. I was never hungry or cold. Occasionally, I would hear a noise that sounded like humming and an overwhelming wave of love and affection would wash over me.

I could have spent an eternity there, content to sleep in peace, but that wasn't meant to be. The dark place that once was a source of comfort quickly became suffocating. It wasn't long after the tightness became almost unbearable that I was abruptly thrust out of my haven and into a bitterly cold, horribly loud place. There was something holding me and I felt completely helpless- similar to how I felt as I floated in the water while my life drained from me. I _hated _it.

I opened my eyes to what was to be my new life, and promptly greeted the world with a piercing scream. It was the wail of an infant.

**Eh heh…please don't kill me? I know I haven't updated Imbroglio in forever, but the muse wouldn't leave me alone on this one. **

**As you probably have figured out already, this is one of those OC insert stories. I'm well aware that fact has probably scared off a bunch of people already, but I figured I would attempt my own version. I humbly promise that my OC will not turn into a Mary-Sue. I will do my very best to keep her as someone readers can relate to if they were ever placed in such a circumstance. **

**Anyway, this story is largely influenced by the story **_**Iryo-nin Kasa **_**by Vaengir, so I would like to dedicate this first chapter to her. :) **

**That being said, please review. If I don't get reviews, I will take it to mean that readers aren't interested in Metanoia and I will stop writing it. I don't want to waste my time writing something that no one will read. **

**Thanks!**

**-Amai**


	2. Agerasia

Agerasia:

"_Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple."-Dr. Seuss_

I spent the majority of my time sleeping for months after my rebirth, and when I wasn't asleep, I was plagued by either hunger or bodily functions. The woman taking care of me- my mother, I suppose -tried her very best to keep up with my needs, but it seemed like she was constantly struggling to feed the both of us. Everyday life revolved around just the two of us struggling to survive. The little I did glimpse of the world around us was when my mother ran her errands with me swaddled on her back and it was bleak. There was little to no sunshine. Rain poured from the heavens in what seemed like a never ending flow, saturating the dirt street that crossed through the small, impoverished village where we lived. The village itself was just a cluster of small, worn shacks, our home amongst them. They were crafted of some type of cheap wood that warped under the constant battering of rain, and I knew from firsthand experience that the roofs did nothing to prevent water from dripping inside. Everything was damp from the bed mat to the blanket I was swaddled in, and I couldn't remember a time where I'd ever been so uncomfortable.

During the painstaking months of life before I could talk or walk or even express myself in ways other than rudimentary expressions, I spent the time thinking. How could this have happened to me? What happened to Heaven, or even Hell, for that matter? What happened to my body?

When I thought about my body, probably lost in the sea as a source of food for the fish, memories of my past life, of my mom, my older brother, and my friends flooded my mind. Did they cry for me? An overwhelming measure of grief overtook me for what seemed like weeks. It felt as if something was sitting on my chest and I couldn't breathe or think past the loss of my family. The place where I ended up did not look anything like home. There were no shiny cars, no flat-screen televisions, and no ridiculous advertisements. Electricity was a luxury that no one in this town could ever dream to afford. In this place, there was no comfortable middle class- there wasn't even an upper class to beg for charity. Everyone around me looked beaten and exhausted with the day-to-day back-breaking labor and the cruelties of life. I, supposedly just a baby, someone who hadn't even had a chance to experience life, felt the desperation of this place. And that was the saddest part of all.

As the months passed, my grief and shock faded little by little until it just became a dull ache lingering in my chest. Progressively, I got more and more perceptive of the world around me and needed less sleep. To my mother's weary delight, I was a quiet baby- content to observe the world around me rather than fussing and crying. The few babies I did see around the village cried constantly from the pain of hunger, so I was considered an oddity. I think my mother, Hina, as I learned she was called, was worried that there was something wrong with me, but there was nothing she could do with her limited resources.

One bitterly cold night, when a wicked thunderstorm rolled through, my mother cradled me in her arms as she rested on the hard pallet that served as the bed in our one-room hut and spoke to me in small murmurs. Her pale face was strained with tension, making her look harsh and older than her actual age, which was probably somewhere in the early twenties, but her hands were still soft, lacking the coarse calluses I'd seen on the other women around the village. I wasn't terribly surprised by her appearance, as I had seen it multiple times during my earlier months, but her eyes shocked me into silence. Her eyes were an average shade of brown, not too pretty and not too ugly, but that wasn't what stopped me figuratively in my tracks. It was the pure, unadulterated love in her eyes as she spoke to me. Logically, I shouldn't have been all that surprised since she was my biological mother in this life, but it was overwhelming and humbling to see it for myself. I felt warm and loved and so unbelievably lucky to have even _one_ person in this harsh world to look after me; however, underneath all of that, guilt welled inside me, slowly devouring my happiness. I was not her daughter, not mentally at least. I was a sham- a lie. I was just a replacement for the child that she was supposed to have. The distress must have shown on my face because the next thing I knew, she cradled my head against her shoulder and she sung me to sleep. I had never felt more safe or content. It was that night that I finally learned my new name. My mother chose a name that would carry her well-wishes for my future. I was named Chieko, a child supposedly blessed with wisdom. The irony did not fly over my head.

KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

By the time I had reached the grand age of nine months, I couldn't tolerate being carried around like a sack of potatoes any longer. On a particularly rainy day, when nothing of use could have been accomplished outside due to the torrential down pour, my mother sat me down on the floor with a few, well-worn wooden toys scattered around to keep me entertained while she went about patching together shabby clothing. I bided my time, waiting for her to be fully immersed in her work before attempting to stand on my two unsteady legs. Rather than immediately taking off into a wobbly walk like I had optimistically hoped for, I fell right back onto my butt. Releasing a sigh uncharacteristic of an infant, I pulled myself up using one of the rough wooden walls and attempted to walk, only to fall again. I tried over and over for the better part of an hour before I could finally stand on my own two feet again with the support of the wall. It took a few more attempts to take my first step, but I achieved it and moved clumsily across the floor to my mother. I felt liberated, like a burden had been lifted off my already weary shoulders. As I clamored over to her, she finally lifted her head from her work and addressed me with a shocked expression, then a smile before swooping over to pick me up into a hug.

That night, she celebrated by showing me something that must have been a family heirloom. She had it stashed away in a dusty wooden box, so it looked nondescript until she opened it. Rolled within thin pieces of white tissue paper, there was a silk tapestry laced with brightly colored threads that looked new despite the obvious age of the overall piece. The tapestry showed a gruesome battle between what looked like two powerful men and bodies lie strewn about the ground around them like some type of macabre mosaic. Wryly, I wondered if showing images of horrible battles to children was a normal practice in this new world; nonetheless, I was fascinated by what I saw. Something seemed eerily similar about the two men in the image to me and it niggled at the back of my mind like an insatiable itch. One man held something that looked rather like a large metal war fan, and the other one had what looked like woven tree branches wrapped around his arms. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what it was about the image that stirred my memory. I tried to reach out to touch the delicately woven threads, but my mother caught my chubby hand gently and made a chiding sound before she pointed to the image depicted on the cloth and uttered one word that almost stopped my heart. _Shinobi_.

KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

I would have loved to say that I went on with my daily life unaffected whatsoever by that night, but that would be a total, shamefaced lie. I was paranoid for what seemed like weeks, but was really just a matter of days. I constantly watched everything around me, as if a _shinobi_ would pop out of the shadows and brutally rip us apart, and I would refuse to fall asleep at night, much to my mother's distress. I think it might have been a remnant of the irrational fear from my rebirth because, honestly, who would believe that magical assassins were real? Both of us were hopelessly sleep deprived by the end of the week and I'm sure my mother was ready to rip her hair out from the stress by the time I finally pulled myself together. There was _no way_ that _shinobi_ could possibly exist. That was just the stuff of childish stories, right?

And, true to my belief, I saw neither a hide nor hair of any _shinobi_ during the time I spent watching my surroundings vigilantly, so I let it go. I dismissed the tapestry as just an elaborate showcasing of skill in order to depict a fictional event. Tons of cultures did that with their myths back home, like the Greeks with their pottery art, and the Chinese with their silk screens. The glorification of battle was often displayed through art, so I felt certain with my theory and gradually adapted back into my regular routine.

Time flew by and before I knew it, I hit the milestone of my first birthday. By that point, I had finally begun to pick up my new home's native language, but out of embarrassment from saying things incorrectly, I stayed silent most of the time. Over my first year I had realized that the new language my mother spoke had a lot of similarities to Japanese, which was a language I studied very briefly during my first year of college, but flunked spectacularly. Of course I would end up in a place where I would have benefited from paying attention in the only class I ever failed. I knew my language skills would be horrid if I even tried to converse with so little knowledge of the new dialect. I could tell that my refusal to speak frustrated my mother, especially when she'd attempt to get me to interact with the other children around my age. She tried for months to coax me to repeat words after her and to babble with the other kids I "played" with. I was determined to maintain what little dignity I had left though and making the speech mistakes common of babies and toddlers would certainly destroy that facade.

The other women in the village would titter behind their worn hands about how prideful I was, even at just a year old. If I didn't have the mentality of an adult, I would never have noticed the glares they shot towards my mother and me and how they constantly referred to my mother as _yariman_, rather than her name. I didn't know what it meant, but their tone while saying it was enough to know that it wasn't a compliment. Despite my insistence of mentally referring to her as just a caretaker rather than my mother, I found myself getting defensive over Hina. I would purposefully stare at the group of gossiping women whenever I'd see them start to talk about her and focus all of my attention on them. It took a few tries at it for them to fully notice, but I'm proud to say my intense staring freaked them out enough to scatter the group. After that, I overheard some of the women mumble under their breath about how strange I was and how I must've gotten it from my mother, but I didn't catch them gossiping again.

My first birthday was subdued because we didn't have any friends or family in the village, but as a special treat, my mother gave me a single blue ribbon after dinner while I sat in her lap next to the fire. My stomach clenched as I ran my tiny hands across the smooth fabric; it was aqua- the exact same shade of the water I was submerged in during the last moments of my previous life. I felt tears well in my eyes at the sudden and completely unexpected reminder of the life I was ripped away from so abruptly and tucked my face in my mother's stomach in a futile attempt to hide myself from the smothering grief that accompanied the memories of home. I missed everything about home, even the little things like the scent of freshly mowed grass on a summer day and the call of mourning doves during a relaxing Sunday walk. The heartache that I had done so well to repress hit me all at once and I couldn't hold back the tears that streamed down my pallid cheeks.

The guilt welled up again; here I was, crying over my past life when I had been given another chance to live. I should have been grateful to even reach my first birthday. Over the first year of my life, seven other babies had died from starvation alone, while many other kids just a little bit older had died from a strange sickness that seemed an awful lot like tuberculosis. I was lucky to be alive. My mother had worked well into the night repairing clothing for other families just to keep food on the table, but even then, we were lucky. Compared to other families around us, we only had two mouths to feed, rather than the seven in the Tanaka residence next door and the nine in the Higurashi house across the road.

It took me several deep breaths and my mother's soothing hand rubbing my back before I regained the strength to face the world again. Clutching the ribbon tightly in my hand, I sat up and looked at my mother with determined eyes. There was nothing about this new life that I couldn't conquer. I could make do and survive- maybe even thrive. I was determined to succeed, and nothing would get in my way. My only enemies were destitution and self-pity.

I had no idea how wrong I was.

KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Life progressed in a constant cycle of waking up to the humid morning air, surviving the day through the pouring rain, and then falling into a restless sleep on our damp bed mat. Around the time that I turned three years old, my grasp on the language was decent enough to get the answers from my mom that I'd had floating in my mind for months. It took me a few weeks of following her around silently, quite like I had done since she finally let me walk with her on my own for the first time over a year earlier, before I mustered up the courage to voice my curiosity.

We were sitting near the fire pit in our hut while the rain pattered softly on the roof and my mother was hunched over a battered cloak while trying to patch together a large gash. I had sat there across from her, patiently waiting for her to finish as I surveyed the only home I'd known during my first three years of this new life. For the first year or so, the scent of mildew and smoke from the fire in our hut was overwhelming and I struggled to breathe properly, but I suppose I adapted and I grew to associate it with the scent of home. There were new sheets of thin wood in patches on the wall from holes and rot that had threatened to cave in the house multiple times and the single dusty window we had looked out over the shadowy forest behind our house. The roof still leaked like a faulty faucet, which had caused problems with rot a few times over the years. I can remember my mother pacing about the house to dry up all the puddles to try and save the floor from decay, and she constantly wrapped my feet in dry strips of cloth for as long as possible at night. It took me a while to realize that she was trying to keep me from suffering trench foot, which I had seen firsthand on a little boy around my age just a month before my third birthday. I don't think I will ever forget the sight of the peeling lesions on his feet or the overpowering scent of decay in the air of their hut. Nobody directly told me what happened to him, but when I saw the new child-sized grave marker in the overly full cemetery the next day with his mother draped over it sobbing, I got a pretty good idea.

During my life in the town that I learned was aptly named Yokoburi, or Driving Rain, I witnessed a total of three days without rain, and on only one of those days the sun shone. While I followed my mother around the town dutifully during the latter half of my second year, I tried for many days to puzzle out how it was possible for this town to receive so much rain. I had heard of monsoons before, but the amount of rain this town got was way above that. Monsoons supposedly lasted six months before a six month period of dry weather, like what happened in some parts of India. Apparently in Yokoburi, there was no such thing as dry weather. Even on the single sunny day we got in the "summer" of my second year, everything was still muddy and wet from the thunderstorm the day before. As a result, that day was horrendously warm and humid, and the air felt like some screwed up version of a sauna. We never left the town, so I had no idea what our surroundings were like, but I was willing to bet we were in some type of rainforest hell, at least from what I garnered from the weather and the strange plant life surrounding the town. It would also explain the ridiculously large bugs I kept finding all over the hut.

The sound of my mother's weary sigh drew my attention to her as she folded the cloak and placed it in a large pile to her left. As she reached for the next article of clothing, I finally spoke up.

"Mama," I started hesitantly, "where are we?"

For a second, she just looked at me with a strange expression on her face before answering bluntly as she threaded her next needle, "We're home, Chieko-chan."

"I know that, but _where _is home?" I tried to dig deeper while stumbling slightly over the words I was just beginning to master.

She paused in her action of stitching the first section, looking deep in thought before saying, "We're in the middle of the Land of Rain."

I furrowed my brows as I got the niggling feeling that the name sounded familiar, but how was that possible? I was fairly certain I had never heard of Yokoburi before, and I had come to the conclusion that I was nowhere near the same place as I had been in my previous life, so why did it sound so familiar? Timidly, I voiced my next question, "Where is the Land of Rain?"

I heard her breath out deeply through her nose before she set the needle and pants she was mending aside and focused her full attention on me. "Where did all these questions come from, Chieko-chan? You're usually so quiet," she asked as she gestured for me to sit in her lap.

As I settled in against her, I mumbled, "I want to know more about home." Her arms wrapped around me and I cuddled into her warmth against the freezing fall night air that slipped through the cracks of our house. We sat there silently for a few moments as she rested her cheek against the top of my head before she asked, "What do you want to know?"

Taking her question as an invitation to ask everything that had been bothering me, I started simply, "Why does it always rain? And are there sunny places near Yokoburi?"

The second question may seem stupid to some, but after living in a place where rain was the forecast for 99.9% of the time, I felt it was a valid question. For all I knew, I landed on some type of island that was constantly battered by hurricanes and thunderstorms.

"Well, to your first question, the Land of Rain is between the Land of Wind, the Land of Fire, and the Land of Earth," Hina started with a steady voice, "and all of those countries get a lot of sun."

I nodded slowly as I wrapped my mind around the information I had been given. It seemed like it was a common practice to name countries after elements wherever I had ended up; however, I noticed she had skipped over a question. "But why does it always rain? Why do we never get sun like the other countries?"

Hina pet my hair softly and shook her head, "I don't know, but some say that the gods are crying for our country. They weep for the lives lost because of meaningless violence, and that is why it rains every day."

I don't know why, but that statement made me inexplicably sad. In my past life, I had been an avid pacifist; I even went to rallies protesting the wars in other countries that my home had dallied into. I hated the violence and the unnecessary evil that war brought upon people, and I had made it my life mission to subtly include those ideals in my lessons while teaching so that maybe the next generation would prompt change. I suppose that attitude carried over into this lifetime. The fact that it was a belief of my countrymen that the gods were continually crying because of the unnecessary bloodshed in the Land of Rain said more than a thousand words ever could. It appeared that I managed to land myself in a place not just struck by poverty, but also by war and violence. I sat there on my mother's lap for a long period of time coming to terms with that fact while she stroked my hair before I could form the words of my next question, "Mama, do you remember that night when you showed me that tapestry?"

She made a sound of assent, so I continued, "You said a word that night, but I didn't know what you meant. What did you mean by _shinobi_?" Her movements stilled at my question as she grew stiff, and it didn't take a genius to understand that my question worried her.

"Chieko-chan," She started warily, "how do you remember what I said that night? You weren't even a year old."

I really should've expected that question, but it caught me off guard. Of course an infant wouldn't remember words spoken to them after being alive for such a short period of time. Remembering the image of the tapestry was entirely possible because of how bright and memorable the design was, but remembering words? My mouth clacked up and down for a few seconds while I attempted to come up with an answer that wouldn't result in her thinking I was insane. Finally, after drawing blank on anything else, I settled on the truth, or at least part of it, "I just do. I remember a lot of things."

Hina hummed to herself in thought then asked, "What else do you remember, Chieko?"

Immediately, I noticed that she dropped the affectionate '-chan' at the end of my name and winced internally. This conversation would not be an easy one. How was one supposed to cover the fact that they had the mind of a 20-something year old in a toddler's body without sounding like a loon? I had a feeling that unless I somehow satisfied her curiosity, I would be royally screwed. After all, she was the woman who provided for me. Where would I be without her?

In my mind's eye, I could only see two alternatives. I could play dumb and pretend that it was just a fluke that I remembered, but that was unlikely to go well. Hina was a smart woman, despite what the townswomen may think, and I'm sure she wouldn't fall for it, no matter how much I played up the toddler part. That left the other option, which was to accept the role as a child genius, or at the very least, a child with an unbelievable memory. Either way, it made me even more of a freak than I might've appeared originally and I wasn't sure if I wanted to stand out like that. In my past life I hadn't been anyone special; I blended in with the rest of society. If I went down the path of a genius, then I would forever be branded with that term. I suppose I was lucky that I was born in Yokoburi. There weren't many expectations for children out here, smart or otherwise.

My train of thought was cut off by a cough from my mother and I sighed inaudibly as I made my decision. I suppose it would have been a shame to stick to the same safe path as before, so I went with the more daring route. "I remember everything," was all I said as I shifted to look into her eyes earnestly. I watched as her eyes narrowed a bit, and I was surprised at the calculating gleam that shone in the dwindling fire light. As quick as that look came, it faded again into a neutral expression as she tightened her arms around me in a fierce hug. I relaxed to the rhythmic beat of her heart, despite how unsettled I felt about this new side of my mother that I had seen.

Several long moments passed as we sat there silently listening to the weather outside worsening into pouring rain. I began to shift impatiently as the quiet extended long past what I considered acceptable; I still had a question that needed to be answered, after all. My lips parted to ask my mother about _shinobi _again, but before I could even force the words out, a deafening crack rung through the air followed by the harrowing sound of piercing screams. Faster than I had ever seen her move before, my mother leapt up and placed me on the ground before hurrying to grab the few precious items in our hut along with food and shoving it into a weathered knapsack. My heart raced as I observed her move about the hut and before I knew it, she had me crouching next to her near the door.

"Stay silent, Chieko," She whispered harshly as she reached for the door, "I mean it. Not a word."

I nodded fearfully and watched as she stealthily pried the door open and looked out onto the muddy street. I could see her face illuminated by something bright, and as she gestured me to follow her out of the hut, I finally found out where the screams had come from. The entire line of houses on the other side of the street was blazing with an uncontrollable fire that not even the heavy rain could extinguish. I would have stopped in my tracks and stared if Hina hadn't pulled me along with her to creep around the corner of the house. I could hear the clash of metal in the distance along with the battle cries of men, but even that couldn't prevent me from hearing the desperate shrieks from the Higurashi house that I _knew _were coming from the youngest children of the household as the wooden frame collapsed on them like a fiery inferno.

My mother hurried us along as the sound of battle drew closer and closer to the main village and as we were about a foot away from the cover of the forest, a tall figure emerged from the shadows with a sword drawn and the fire illuminating his pale features. Hina pulled me back into her arms and hunched over me as if that would protect me from the man's gaze. I studied him intently with the limited vision the fire gave me because if I was to die, I wanted to know exactly who I could blame. My heart was hammering in my chest and my thoughts ran wild as the adrenalin and fear spiked. Maybe I could even choose to be a ghost this time around? I had been killed by Mother Nature last time, so there was no one to blame but myself, but maybe I'd get an option for the afterlife this time? My plans for my impending demise were cut short as the man stepped forward with a scrunched up expression on his face while he studied my mother's face. It was almost as if he recognized her.

"You," He abruptly rasped as he stared at Hina, shocked, "You're the one he's been hunting for over three years!"

My mother's face looked horrified and I was about to cut in to ask _who _exactly was hunting my mother and why, but all my thoughts were brutally halted as my face was sprayed with a warm, metallic smelling liquid. I watched in shock as the man who was speaking just a second ago slumped to the ground with a permanent look of surprise etched on his face and a knife sticking out of his neck. It was as if my mind had completely ground to a halt and everything around me was muffled as my eyes locked on to the innocently shiny piece of metal that proudly rest on the now-deceased man's forehead. Four simple lines marked the center of the metal and the only thought that would cross my mind as my mother took the initiative to hurdle us through the forest was _oh shit_.

My two original enemies just gained an ally- _shinobi_.

**Hello! Thank you for reading all the way through this chapter! Please review, because if I don't receive reviews on this story, then I'll take it that readers are not interested. I'm not going to waste my time writing something that nobody will read, so please let me know you are interested through a review!**

**~Amai**


	3. Precipice

Precipice

"_I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary. The evil it does is permanent." -Gandhi_

In the month before I headed off to college for my freshman year, I went on a camping trip with my mother and brother to the nearby mountain range. The secluded camping site we pitched our tent in was picturesque, quite like something one would see on a postcard, and the mountain air was fresh and relaxing to breathe. We hiked through the forest trails, observing the flora and fauna with gusto during the day, and at night we curled around the campfire with marshmallows and told ghost stories. Looking back, we were just one step-dad and a slew of children away from being mistaken for the insufferably sweet Brady Bunch family. Still, I couldn't have asked for a better going away gift and that camping trip will always remain crystal clear in my memory as one of the best moments during my previous life.

I can't say that this "camping" experience really compared. My clothes were coated with mud and completely soaked through from the rain that continued to pelt Hina and I as we remained huddled under an incredibly large tree. I couldn't count the number of welts I had from mysterious bug bites over the long hours we spent awake in the darkness, but every last one of them itched maddeningly. My mother wasn't much better off and we were both freezing from being soaked all night long, so when the first light of dawn started to breach the thick canopy, the only thing I could feel was relief. Sometime after the man- shinobi –died and we hurried into the forest, my mind had seemingly shut down on itself. I just mindlessly followed my mother as she dragged me through the foliage and to be honest, I could hardly remember ending up where we were now. It seemed like a distant memory.

I knew in the back of my mind that what I was experiencing was shock in its purest form, which was to be expected after watching someone get brutally murdered. Even with that knowledge, I still couldn't wrap my mind around the events of that evening. I had sat there next to my mother for the entire night staring vacantly out into the inky darkness that surrounded us just _trying _to come to terms with the fact that things that I knew to be fictional were suddenly real. Very, very real. To be honest, I really should have seen it coming. Who was I kidding, thinking that something wasn't feasible after being _reborn _into an infant's body? It was all clicking together now- the foreign language that wasn't quite Japanese, the countries that weren't anywhere to be found on the map of Earth, and the tapestry of the two fighting men that seemed so bloody familiar.

If my encounter with the now-deceased shinobi hadn't occurred, I would have never come to the conclusion that I did. It seemed ludicrous, even though deep down I knew it was true. I really must have screwed up in my past life to end up here- a fictional dimension -of all places. And, to top it all off, it just had to be the dimension of the one anime I had watched obsessively for the better part of my senior year in High School. Naruto, the source of many Friday nights spent at home in my room watching subtitled videos rather than out with my friends.

That or this place was really just an island full of insane cosplayers. Unfortunately, I doubted that. The cosplayer explanation would make things much simpler, but it would fail to clarify how exactly I ended up in an infant's body in a place that rained like it was going out of style. Besides, even if they were all extreme re-enactors, I'm sure murdering someone by a knife to the throat along with lighting multiple houses on fire would be a bit much, even if it was to "enliven" the experience.

My musings were halted as Hina heaved a weary sigh and lifted herself up off the ground, while gesturing for me to rise as well. The rainwater ran in small rivulets down my face, almost blinding me while I squinted up at her for the next hint at what we would be doing.

"Chieko-chan," she said, her voice sounding muffled over the pattering of the rain, "we're heading back to Yokoburi."

I'll admit I stared at her as if she was insane. Where was the logic in that? What if the battle was still raging? We'd be killed for sure! So I voiced my thoughts, "But, isn't that unsafe? What if we're hurt by those shinobi?"

The laugh that ripped itself from her mouth was full of bitterness and I realized with a start that she was not as unaffected by the incident as she seemed. "We'll be fine. The battles usually last only a few hours, so it'll just be those of us that survived the night."

Before I could think of how to respond to her matter-of-fact statement, she had stalked past me on a course that presumably led home, or what was left of it. I followed after her, not wanting to be left behind, even though I knew she would return to find me if I did not follow. Still, I had even more questions than I did the night before and it was more important than ever to learn about the place in which I had been reincarnated.

Even though I wasn't the best at reading people, I could tell by the rigid line of her thin shoulders and the stiff gait she set that Hina was not in the mood to answer my questions. I chose to keep my building pile of questions contained at least until we returned to what was left of our hut. That didn't stop me from contemplating them. My primary concern was figuring out why Yokoburi, of all the backwater places in the world, would be the site of what seemed like a large battle. I wracked my mind as I struggled behind my mother in the dense foliage.

It had been a few years since I had even looked at one of the Naruto manga, let alone watch some of the anime, so my memory was patchy at best. I knew the main character was named Naruto Uzu-something, but that was fairly obvious from the title of the series. I could remember a lot about the revenge-driven Sasuke, at least, and his poor martyr of a brother, but recalling the smaller details was like pulling teeth. I _knew _the information, but it seemed to dangle just out of my grasp. I was missing something big, but I couldn't remember what.

The Land of Rain was my new home, so I tried to delve into my, admittedly bad, memory banks on what information I had about the country. It was small and, based off the information my mother gave me, sandwiched between three other countries. Obviously, it rained a lot, and the parts I'd seen already were poor and practically carved out of the jungle. And now, I knew there were ninja running around. Strong, possibly mentally ill assassins were sharing the same air as me. Wonderful.

With that delightful thought floating about in my mind, I looked up from my mud submerged feet to see the light from the clearing that Yokoburi was situated within. Hina continued on straight into the clearing without any hesitation, but I lingered back, straining to hear any sounds of the battle from the night before. Over the loud sounds of the exotic bird calls and the clicking noises of the monstrously sized bugs in the foliage around me, I could hear nothing, so I moved out of the forest wearily.

The damage was worse than I had thought it would be. Last night, before my mother and I had darted into the forest like frightened deer, half of the village was on fire, so I had prepared to see charred remains; however, I did not expect to see a large crater that engulfed the entire town. It was as if an earthquake had occurred, but was contained to one large, circular area.

Every last hut within the miserable village of Yokoburi was leveled to the ground like some oppressive force had crushed them into the earth. Even the trees scattered within the radius were smashed into millions of tiny fragments. I could only see the vaguest of details from my position because of the distance, but I knew when I saw splotches of red throughout the crater that it wasn't paint.

My stomach was roiling and I knew my eyes were widened in horror at the scene, but that didn't stop Hina from grabbing my hand and dragging me closer to where our hut was supposed to be. I couldn't understand why she had to drag me along, knowing that I would see all the death and destruction from the battle; it was cruel and traumatic to expose a child to such an experience if it could be avoided. I dug my heels into place and struggled against her hold until she turned to me with a stern expression on her face.

"Chieko," she said shortly, "stop fighting. You need to see this."

I parted my lips to protest, but she ignored it and continued pulling me straight to the ruins of our home. The piles of rubble that looked so small from where we had breached the forest now appeared to coat the ground in a pattern of wood, debris, and to my alarm, human remains. Limbs lie strewn about the upturned chunks of ground and puddles of water diluted blood pooled all over the ground. Looking closely at the wreckage, I could even spot the charred remains of some of the victims of the fire. It was a horrifying sight.

Finally, after what seemed like a century of navigating the scattered rubble, we stopped in front of the space that once held the home of the Higurashi family. In an attempt to avoid looking at the charred remains of the abode, I looked up at Hina, who stared intently at the ground with her brow furrowed in thought. I would have been content to stay silent in respect of the poor men, women, and children who had surely lost their lives in the brutal battle; however, that was proven impossible as a strong gust of wind kicked up a cloud of debris that carried the unbearable stench of death and decay, causing me to choke on the thick air. It was smothering, like I was inhaling the breath of the Grim Reaper, and I couldn't stop coughing.

I thought I was going to die for the second time right then and there from suffocation because no matter what I did, I couldn't inhale enough air around my powerful coughs. My heart raced in panic and tears streamed out of my clenched eyes as I tried desperately to inhale, when finally, something blocked the horrid smell from my nose. I had to sit on the bloodstained and splinter covered ground for a long period of time before I could breathe normally again.

Hina sat next to me intermittently rubbing and patting my back as I regained my awareness of the world around me. I took several more deep breaths using the cloth she covered my nose with before I mumbled the first question that popped into my oxygen deprived brain, "Mama, why did you bring me back here? I don't want to see this."

A tense look crossed her face as I watched her come up with an answer, "I know you're little Chieko-chan, but you're clever and you need to learn early." She gestured around us at the remains and continued, "This is what happens to people like us. Our homes are ruined and friends and families are killed. You need to learn how the world works now, while I can still protect you from some of it."

I was perturbed at her words, so I asked the next question that troubled me, even though I knew I probably wouldn't like the answer, "Why does this happen to us? Why not to other people too?"

I could tell my question upset her by the drawn out pause while she wrung her hands before she answered, "It happens because we're weaker than other people, Chieko-chan. We don't have money so we don't have shinobi to protect us."

My face twisted into a sour expression and the words practically flew out of my mouth before I could stop them, "Why would we need their help? _They're _the ones that ruined Yokoburi. Can't we just stay away from them?"

Hina let out a small snort of wry amusement while she shook her head, "We can't just stay away from them. They're almost everywhere, and in the places that they haven't taken over, samurai and yakuza live."

"Then why don't we move to where the shinobi live?" I had to force the question out due to my growing aversion to anything that involved ninja, but I need to know why we didn't live under the so-called protection of the shinobiforce. They may destroy other places on a whim, but they wouldn't do the same to their home. Surely, we could afford a hovel nearby their base so we'd at least have some security, as much as I hated the thought of depending on such a blood-thirsty military. We needed their defense, if the total and complete annihilation of Yokoburi was any clue. And if we couldn't completely avoid them, then we might as well live where they would be useful instead of destructive. It's smarter to be with them than against them, right? Or so I hoped.

"We can't," was the clipped reply I received from Hina. In all my time with my mother, I had grown to accept her as a logical, fairly intelligent woman, so her lack of a reason for avoiding the security we so sorely needed caught my attention. I ran through my memories of the time with her that may have hinted at why she would actively avoid the shinobi villages, when it hit me.

"It's because of that man that's been hunting you isn't it?" I asked, knowingly but tripping on some of the larger words, "He's the reason you're staying away from the shinobi. Why?"

A crack echoed around us as Hina snapped a small piece of wood that she was toying with in half, and her jaw clenched in a mulish way. "It's nothing important," she said simply.

A smarter person would've just let it settle, but I had to know. Whoever was hunting Hina was the root of a large problem- one that my mother was adamant about avoiding.

"I think it is important." I addressed her frankly, only stumbling over the words slightly, "whoever it is scares you." Several moments passed in which all we could hear around us was the pitter-patter of the rain and the rattling of the cicadas. Gnawing on my lower lip, I grew concerned with the extended silence between us. Maybe I was asking for too much from my mother. I was supposed to be a three year old child; I guess it would have been a bit much to expect her to answer my barrage of questions. I was about to change the subject, figuring that she wasn't going to answer, when she heaved a weary sigh and shifted so we could speak face to face.

Her brown eyes scanned my features with an unreadable expression as she absently gnawed on her lower lip, then she said, "You're a smart girl, Chieko-chan, but that's a dangerous thing. I don't want you to get hurt."

I quirked my eyebrow in disbelief at her admission, because honestly, how could being knowledgeable about something be dangerous? Well, I probably knew more than I should about future events, even with my admittedly hazy memory, which is always a bad thing, but Hina didn't know that. She was worried just thinking that I had "above level intellect". That aside, having a higher level of intelligence would allow me to avoid dangerous things, so why was she worried?

I would've continued to mull it over, but Hina spoke up and cut through my pensive thoughts, "They will take you away from me if they know how smart you are, Chieko-chan. You would make a good soldier, and they will take advantage of how young you are to shape you into a monster."

Well, I suppose that answered that question. Unfortunately, it only caused me to come up with more to ask. I felt like I was Alice in Wonderland where everything I knew was wrong and answers only brought me more questions. I didn't even have the elusive Cheshire cat to guide me through the maze of new customs and expectations in this world. I suppose I would just have to make do with what I had.

"Who would take me?" I inquired first, then followed it up with, "and isn't it bad to make children into soldiers?" I struggled with how to convey the last part, because I was unfamiliar with how 'unethical' would translate in this land- if they even had a word for it. I mean, I knew Naruto and his classmates supposedly became fully fledged shinobi at a young age in the manga, but still. I was three years old; would I really be stolen away from Hina because I was considered to be smart? It seemed farfetched to me. I was the child of a poor peasant woman; therefore, I was unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

All around us, the rain grew harder, and despite my hatred for being constantly damp, I felt soothed by the rhythmic beat of the water hitting the earth. It was almost relaxing, like a white noise machine. I tugged at a strand of my shaggy blond hair and played with the split ends while Hina explained, "The ninja who live nearby. They would take you from me, and yes, but they don't care that what they're doing is bad."

I hated the way she danced around the questions that I posed. I felt like she was treating me like an invalid- someone who couldn't handle the truth. I knew I shouldn't feel that way because she was my mother and was just trying to keep me safe, but it didn't stop the annoyance from rearing its ugly head.

Bitterness is a powerful emotion and I knew that if I let myself fall into that hole, I probably wouldn't get out again. I was in a three year old girl's body; Hina couldn't be blamed for treating me as such, no matter how much I despised it. Regardless of that fact, I had the mentality of an adult and having someone in control of so many aspects of my life and survival was a painful reality. It was only worsened by her avoidance of my inquiries. I had a right to know what I was unwillingly involved in.

"Then where are we going to go?" I asked frustrated. "We can't go where the ninja are, but they're 'everywhere', and we can't stay here because there's no one left and our house is ruined!"

Hina shot me a sharp look at my hasty words, indicating that I should shut my mouth and listen. "We're going to find another small town, like Yokoburi. Maybe we'll be safer there."

"We weren't safe here," I couldn't help but spout out, "why would we be safer there? Can't we leave the Land of Rain? I want to live where it's sunny."

"Chieko," Hina ground out, and I instantly felt guilty for causing her so much stress, "we're not leaving. We can't."

"Why not?" I knew I was being a pain in the ass at that point, but I was failing to see why we couldn't leave this hellhole behind. It's not like we had anything left for us here but ghosts and ruins. There was nothing to hold us back.

"We're stuck here, Chieko-chan," Hina finally admitted, "The military won't let us leave." There went that hope. I knew we didn't stand a chance of escaping over the border with our lives if what she said was true. We were too slow and weak, and they were too strong.

"Mama," I hesitantly drawled after an extended pause while I pushed down my growing anger at the injustices of the world, "isn't there someone who can protect us? We won't be safe if we stay like this."

She opened her mouth to say something, and I could tell it would have been an instant 'no', but something stopped her and she pursed her lips again as she seemingly mulled it over. I was grasping at straws now, but even with my limited knowledge about current events in the Land of Rain, I knew that living in a small village again was not a feasible option if we intended to stay alive. I didn't take Hina as the suicidal type and I had no intentions of dying in some ghastly battle, so we had to find some other option.

"Maybe," I heard Hina mutter under her breath as she brushed the pad of her thumb against her bottom lip in thought. I stared at her expectantly, so she muttered to me, "There's a group of _hangyakusha_. They fight for the people. Maybe we can go to them…"

I caught the gist of what she was saying, but I had no idea what a _hangyakusha _was, so I asked and she expounded, "They're people who fight against the leader of the Land of Rain. The leader is a bad man; he has done terrible things." Ah, rebels. It made sense that there would be an uprising in a country like this one. When most of the country is starving or impoverished, those who are suffering tend to fight back. Blame it on human instinct.

So we were smack dab in the middle of a civil war. Great. That's the worst type of war, from what I learned in my many history classes. They're bitter conflicts between people who were once comrades and more often than not, more lives are lost in civil wars than any other type of battle. I wanted to know more about this rebellion though. It sounded eerily familiar and I had an inkling that it had something to do with what I was forgetting about the manga.

"What's the name of the leader of the Land of Rain?" I asked, curiously, "He must be strong if he can keep everyone inside the country."

An acidic expression crossed Hina's face at my statement and I half expected her to snap at me, so I was surprised when she actually answered my question, "His name is Hanzo of the Salamander."

The name rung a bell, but yet again, I couldn't place it. I was beginning to get frustrated with my lack of information, but no matter how much I tried to dig it up, I couldn't seem to remember what was so important about that name. I decided to carry on with my questioning about the war with the hopes that it would spur my memory.

"Who are the rebels then?"

Her reply came a lot smoother than the one about Hanzo, "I don't know much, but they're led by three kids. Two boys and a girl, I think. They're supposed to be strong enough to beat Hanzo."

Kids- that's who we were dependant on for protection? Then again, at this rate, anyone would've been stronger than us. Mentally shrugging, I prodded for a bit more information. "Do you know their names?"

"I think," Hina mumbled as she tilted her head, "they call themselves _Akatsuki_."

My whole body froze and my scope of existence narrowed down to one point as I focused on that name. It all came rushing back to me, like a tidal wave of information. Nagato. Rinnegan. Death. Pein. Akatsuki. That was the piece I was missing. Scenes of gruesome, but fantastical clashes between the grown Naruto and the overpowered Akatsuki members rushed through my mind as I dizzily tried to piece them together in a chronological pattern.

A man, no, six men, all with auburn hair and multitudes of piercings and his partner, the beautiful Konan, flashed through my head. Hidan, Kakuzu, Kisame, Itachi, Zetsu, Deidara, Sasori, Orochimaru, _Tobi_. All were deadly in their own way, but Tobi- he stood out. He was the personification of a wolf in sheep's clothing, from what I remembered. Under his cheerful, almost playful façade _he _was the true mastermind behind the rebel group turned terrorist organization, and the instigator of many years of conflict. A manipulator of the highest caliber, and he started his scheme here in the Land of Rain, my home.

Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach as I noticed the steely spark in Hina's eyes as she straightened her back. I knew what was coming, and judging by her expression, there would be no way to convince her otherwise. I should've just let her drag us to another rundown village where we could live in misery until we either died of natural causes or the village was raided.

"We're going to find the Akatsuki."

**Hi there,**

**I must say, I was very pleasantly surprised at the response so far to Metanoia! I would like to thank everyone who took the time to leave a review, favorite or follow my story. I really do appreciate your feedback. That said, I have decided to continue my story up until the fifth chapter and at that point, if I feel like the story hasn't garnered much attention, I will discontinue it. **

**Enough with the business talk- Chieko bit off more than she could chew in this chapter, yeah? Unfortunately for her, there are more surprises headed her way. Anyone who can figure out what I hinted at throughout this entire chapter definitely deserves a cookie. :) I tried to keep it subtle, but it's going to become very important in future chapters. **

**I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and I sincerely look forward to hearing your thoughts about it! **

**Thanks,**

**Amai**


	4. Ephemeral

Ephemeral

"_Of all the animals, man is the only one that is cruel. He is the only one that inflicts pain for the pleasure of doing it." –Mark Twain_

Trees. Trees and bugs. Trees, bugs, and mud. That's what my life consisted of during the last few days as Hina and I traipsed through the jungle searching fruitlessly for the rebels. Oh, and rain, but I'm sure that doesn't come as a big surprise.

In fact, I think Mother Nature has a vendetta against me because the rain had been worse those past few days than I had ever seen before. The rain fell in big drops from every direction, and I mean _every_ direction. Hell, the water even came from below. I'm not exaggerating. Hina took me through this horrible area that was more swamp than forest, and when the rain came down, it would splash the putrid bog water up into my face.

I will freely admit that I whined all the way through that swamp until my mother finally gave up and led us back up to dry land. She tried to convince me that it was the easiest route we could take to the outskirts of Amegakure, which was supposedly the last known location of the rebels, but I wouldn't have it. I was not about to spend an indeterminate amount of time mucking through smelly water that reached just under my armpits. Just no.

Honestly, I couldn't have cared less that it would take us longer to reach the outskirts of Amegakure because of my petulance. The further we were from the rebels, the better. Sure, we'd probably have shelter and warm food and a decent place to sleep once we found them, but I would rather brave the cold and the potential to catch pneumonia than spend a night in the Akatsuki's company.

Supposedly, at this point in time they were just a group of kids intending to right the wrongs of a tyrannical government, but I knew what they were going to turn into and I didn't want to get involved. Most of all, I wanted to keep Hina far away from the future events; somehow, over the past three years I grew…attached to her. In a way, I became reliant on her for more than just basic survival needs such as food and shelter. I wanted, no, _needed_ her emotional support. She became my rock in this chaotic world and I was resolved to cling to her like a shipwreck survivor to a life float. I didn't want her to get hurt and leave me alone. It was a selfish wish, but at that moment, I couldn't have cared less.

The rain steadily sprinkled from the heavy looking clouds above the forest canopy and the bugs around us made loud clicking noises as we sloshed past them through puddles of muddy water. It was a dreary day, made worse by the steadily declining temperatures.

I was about to beg Hina to stop for the afternoon so I could try to warm up my numb limbs when we heard rustling and creaking in the foliage directly to our right. My heart sped up and rapped against my chest in a frantic staccato as I froze into place, while Hina rushed over and wrapped her arms around my stiffened form.

The minute that passed by seemed like an eternity as we waited to see if the noise had been a threat. The rustling grew louder and we begun to hear the dull bass of a man's voice talking as he headed right for us and I couldn't resist the panicked urge to wrap my clammy, pale hand tightly around my mother's forearm for a sense of security.

Since that shinobi had died in front of me a few days ago, I couldn't seem to control my emotions- namely, my fear. Small noises, like the rustling of tree leaves in the wind or the cracking of a branch under my feet, would send my heart into frantic attacks and it would take a good amount of time and coaxing from my mother to calm me down.

I felt ridiculous for being so jumpy, but knowing that my life could be forfeit at any moment because of some ninja's negligence was a bit too much for me to handle. Really, just a stray kunai or attack could end my life quicker than it had been delivered into this world. I still had nightmares about those heart-wrenching screams from the dying Higurashi children. Hina and I could have easily been in their place if the battle had started on our side of the village, and that terrified me.

When the suspense reached a point where I was sure my heart would give out if I had to bear it even a moment longer, the man stepped into our field of vision. He was abruptly followed by a woman and two children before they all stopped in their tracks upon noticing our presence and started to watch us wearily.

If I had been in any state to comment, I would've probably cracked some smartass joke about how they looked like deer caught in headlights. Unfortunately, I'm sure my face rather looked like theirs, so I had no room to talk. Not that they would've understood the joke anyway.

In the brief moments that we all stood there defensively, I took the time to absorb their weathered appearances that reminded me of the townspeople in Yokoburi. Their clothes were ragged and snagged in places that I assume were caught on branches, and their malnourished bodies were filthy with mud, like they had been trudging through the forest for days.

For all appearances and purposes, they seemed like regular peasants to me, but newly developed paranoia nagged me to remain suspicious. It was almost too convenient that we had run into another traveling group way out here in the middle of the jungle. They could be undercover shinobi looking for strays, for all I knew.

The man seemed uncomfortable with waiting any longer in silence, so he spoke up to be heard over the rain, "Who're you?"

There was a pregnant pause where I seriously thought Hina was going to snatch me up and run, but that worry was abated when she stated, "Travelers from Yokoburi. Who are you?"

I watched as the man's shoulders seemed to drain of the tension that had been holding them rigid and he turned to look at the woman who I assumed to be his wife with a relieved expression before calling over, "We're from Akisame, just south of Yokoburi, near the old-"

"I know where Akisame is," Hina snapped at the man, "why are you out here?"

He looked surprised by my mother's hostility, but he shouldn't have been in my opinion. Obviously, we weren't out here for vacation, and if this place really was locked in a war, then it was only natural to be suspicious of other travelers. "My family," the man stated gently, as if he was placating a wild beast, while he gestured to his companions, "is seeking protection near Amegakure. My name is Yamaguchi Kouta; this is my wife, Mei, and our two sons, Hiroki and Kenji."

My mother's arms loosened a bit around me as she lost some of her suspicion towards the strangers and she ushered us a bit closer to them so they wouldn't have to shout over the worsening rain.

"My name is Hina," my mother shared, with a grim expression on her face, "and this is Chieko, my daughter. We're also seeking protection near Amegakure."

Kouta smiled a bit, but it looked strained under the grey-tinted sunlight, "Where is your husband, Hina-san? He shouldn't leave you two alone out here."

Even an imbecile could feel the tension in the air at that point and I knew without looking that Hina's face was twisted into a scowl. I had tried a while ago to figure out who my father was and why Hina wasn't married, but it was like trying to talk to a brick wall. She was even more averse to talking about my father than she was about her issues with shinobi, and that was saying something.

"I am unmarried," was all Hina said as she struggled to maintain her composure. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kouta's wife's face dawn with realization then condescension at my mother's admission. My hackles rose at her clear disdain towards Hina; it was like dealing with those cruel townswomen again. I made it my goal right then and there to keep an eye on that woman.

Kouta was much more flustered by her admission and he stammered a bit before he finally found the words to say, "O-Oh, I apologize! I thought that you were, well, since you have…You're traveling alone then?"

"Yes," my mother said tersely, and I could tell that she had every intention of moving on soon. She even started to push me to our left so we could go around the Yamaguchi family. I felt relieved; in any other circumstance, it would have been safer to travel in a large group, but here, that wasn't true. We'd make too much noise and we'd be far more noticeable in a large group. Since we were all civilians, or at least I thought we were, we'd be sitting ducks for any observant shinobi in the area. Easy targets.

"Wait," Kouta called as we passed them to go further into the forest, and I hoped that my mother would ignore him and keep moving. There was no such luck. She paused and turned around to look at the family with an annoyed expression, prompting him to spit out what he wanted to say.

"I can't knowingly let you travel by yourselves if we're all heading to the same place. It wouldn't be right." It felt as if I had swallowed something sour and I prayed to every god that would listen that my mother would be smart enough to dismiss Kouta's misplaced chivalry and move on.

"You are looking for the rebels then?" Hina cautiously asked, and I cringed internally. If they were loyalists, we would be royally screwed. They could run off and find a platoon of shinobi to slaughter us for our disloyalty to the current ruler.

"Yes, we are looking for them. We heard they were outside of Amegakure somewhere. I insist that you travel with us. I would feel much better than letting you chance traveling on your own. It's too dangerous for a woman and a child to be alone," Kouta gallantly stated, and I felt the urge to throttle him. I'm sure he wouldn't feel better when we were killed because of his 'graciousness'.

Then, to my absolute horror and disbelief, my mother bowed politely and accepted his offer. It was at that point that I couldn't stay silent any longer and sharply cut in to their pleasantries, "This is a bad idea. Mama, we need to stay on our own!"

Everyone's eyes turned to me as I spoke and Hina sighed, "Chieko-chan, we'll be safer this way. You'll have Hiroki-kun and Kenji-kun to play with while we travel. Won't that be nice?"

In the back of my mind, I was annoyed that she was _still_ trying to get me to interact with kids my own age even while on the run, but at the moment, our safety was my top priority. "We won't be safer! This group is too big. The shinobi will see us and we'll be killed!"

Hina was about to answer me, with what I hoped would be an agreement to my logical argument, when Mei spoke up in her raspy tone, "My, your daughter is rather outspoken. It seems she's not aware that children should be seen and not heard."

In that moment, I could swear my blood was on fire with my fury at this woman who simultaneously insulted both me and my mother with her subtle criticism of Hina's parenting skills. I was ready to spit an insult back at the horrid woman when my mother coolly retorted, "She wouldn't be aware of such an outdated custom. I raised my daughter to live in the present."

Appreciation for my mother welled up inside me as I witnessed her handle the situation with unflappable efficiency. She was truly a force to be reckoned with when provoked; it was moments like those where I saw the woman underneath the exhaustion and hunger. It must've been what she was like before me, and that made me feel terribly guilty, like I had stolen a part of who she was.

Before I could sink into a miserable mess of self pity and guilt, Kouta interrupted the impending argument and insisted that they begin moving. He took the lead, followed by his wife, then his kids, and finally me and my mother in the back.

KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

The rain continued its constant din while we trekked towards our joint destination and all the while I shivered under the child-sized cloak my mother had given me when we first started our journey. We had been travelling for a few hours since we met in the forest, and the sun was finally beginning to set, so we were on the lookout for a large tree or cave that would provide shelter from the weather.

In the meantime, I was completely miserable. I was soaked despite the oiled cloak and my feet hurt from the constant traveling. I was also worried about potentially getting trench foot. I had been barefoot since we left Yokoburi and despite the cloth Hina bundled my feet in, they were damp most of the time. I had expressed this worry to my mother and she tried to assure me, but the expression on her face was enough to tip me off that she was as unsure as I was. I hoped that we would be able to find a cave, because I desperately wanted to dry out my feet, even if it was just for one night.

To Hina's relief, other than my occasional questions, I stayed quiet and avoided whining. That's not to say I didn't feel like it. Oh no, I had plenty to complain about. I just didn't want to give that Mei woman anymore fuel to criticize us. I watched her children unceasingly as we traveled to try and catch their flaws so I'd have ammunition to use against her if she started her nitpicking again. Unfortunately, other than the slump of their weary shoulders, nothing about Hiroki or Kenji was reproachable. To my distaste, they were perfectly behaved. Like little drones, I couldn't help but think snidely.

I knew I was beginning to get tetchy, but all the events from the past few days seemed to build up and I was past the point of caring. I couldn't care less what this irritatingly well-mannered family thought about me. I was tired and cold and damn it, everything ached. The longer the trip dragged on the more and more regret I had for asking about the rebels. I should have just kept my mouth shut.

We could have been snug in another dingy hut in some small town, far away from this family and not on a path to find the soon-to-be-terrorist rebels. Oh, how I hated my incessant curiosity sometimes. I spent the rest of the walk dreaming about the warmth of a fire and the shelter of our leaky hut back in Yokoburi until Kouta pointed out a cave that we could use for our camp.

I don't think I'd ever been so delighted to see a dark, slightly damp grotto before in my life. I moved to flop down onto the floor, but I was promptly ushered to the back of the small cave to sit near Hiroki and Kenji as the adults set up our camp.

Silence descended like a blanket over us three kids while I stared forward determinedly as Hiroki's eyes bore into the side of my head. I hoped that if I avoided eye contact, then he would keep his questions to himself. You know, like that rule about wildlife where you're supposed to avoid eye contact so you don't provoke the bear. I'm sorry to report that it didn't work.

"How old are you?" I guess it was too much to ask for the kid to leave me to sit in peace. I stayed quiet and willed him to take it as a hint to leave me alone. I heard nothing from him while I sat there and gradually I felt my shoulders droop a bit as I settled into a more comfortable position. That is until I felt a sharp jab in my side.

I whipped around to face Hiroki wrathfully and hissed, "What?" He stared at me with big beryl eyes, and if it hadn't been for the finger that was still extended to poke me in the side, he would have seemed the picture of innocence.

The kid was cute, I'd give him that, but I was not in the mood to play nice. "Leave me alone," I grumbled at him. Hiroki huffed exaggeratedly before scooting closer and invading my personal space.

"I'm seven and my brother is four. What's Yokoburi like? What games do you like to play? How old are you? What's your favorite food? I like soba, but Kenji likes dango more. Do you like soba too?"

I could only stare at Hiroki as he rattled questions off animatedly and mixed little comments around them. He kept going and going and I completely stopped listening after the first ten questions, but it seemed like he wasn't going to lose wind any time soon. I don't know why he even bothered asking me questions when he seemed to talk enough for the both of us.

Though I hated to admit it, he reminded me slightly of my older brother. He was equally as talkative, but somehow less irritating than Hiroki. The reminder of my goofy, overprotective brother made my heart clench. I could still picture the slightly crooked smile he'd make whenever he was up to no good and the messy brown hair that he never bothered to tame.

The last time I saw him, we were lounging on our mom's couch watching reruns of a cheesy daytime drama and he had refused to share his cheesy poofs with me, all the while giving me that shit eating grin of his. I remember being irritated, but now all I could feel was affection for his playful antics. I _missed_ his horrible pun-filled jokes and his relentless teasing. It only took me dying and being reincarnated into a humorless world to make me realize how much I loved it.

Regret. It was a terrible feeling, but I couldn't seem to escape it no matter how hard I tried. Regret for suggesting that we find someone to protect us. Regret for going to the beach that day so long ago. Regret for taking the love of my family for granted. The feeling followed me wherever I went, like a rain cloud casting a shadow upon my muted happiness.

"Hey, are you listening to me?" I snapped out of my brooding and studied the accusing expression on Hiroki's face before letting out a small laugh. His annoyance looked more like a drenched kitten than anything else, and the humor I felt seemed to lighten the heavy burden on my shoulders a little bit.

"Are you finally done talking?" I teased him lightly. I supposed it wouldn't hurt to humor his questions a bit.

I had expected him to puff up and act even more annoyed by my ribbing, but instead he just laughed it off and stared at me expectantly. It took a moment for me to realize that he was expecting me to answer all the questions he had just rattled off at me.

"Um," I started, wracking my brain trying to remember what exactly he had wanted to know, "I'm three years old. Yokoburi was boring, and I don't play games."

"What food do you like?" Hiroki prompted enthusiastically as it became clear I wasn't going to say more.

"Uh, I like rice," I mumbled ineloquently as I tried to scrounge up a food that would be recognizable in this land. Somehow, I didn't think cheese lasagna was a common dish around here. Everyone would be much more fat and happy if it was.

"Rice?" Hiroki whined, as if it was blasphemous that I'd like the staple food. "Don't you like meat? Dad says that if I eat lots of meat and vegetables, then I'll grow to be a strong shinobi. Isn't that great?"

"Sure, kid," I agreed, if only to get the conversation to end, "meat is great."

"I'll be the best ninja ever!" Hiroki practically shouted in my ear. Any delusions I had developed earlier about Hiroki being a quiet and well-behaved child were shot as I learned his true nature. Children should be seen and not heard, my ass.

"Don't you want to be a ninja too…uh, what's your name again?" Hiroki interrupted my train of thought as he shoved his face closer to mine.

"It's Chieko. And no, I don't want to be a shinobi," I grumbled as I pushed his face back out of my personal bubble. The kid didn't seem to understand that I didn't want him mouth-breathing near my face.

"What?!" And he was up in my face again. "What do you mean you don't want to be a ninja? You could be a pretty kunoichi! Why wouldn't you want that?"

"Look," I grunted as I scooted as far as I could away from him in the confined space, "I just don't want to be a ninja. I don't want to kill people as a part of my job."

"But they said it'll give us honor and glory!" Hiroki countered, and I could tell it was propaganda fed to him from the military recruiters. It looked like they started their brainwashing early in Akisame, because I hadn't seen a single ninja in Yokoburi before the attack that had annihilated it.

"None of that matters if you're dead, does it?" I asserted, my eyes narrowed as I stared Hiroki down. I don't know why I even bothered to argue with him. He wasn't my concern. If he wanted to run off and get himself killed, what would I care? The problem was that I _did_ care. He was a seven year old chatterbox of a boy with big ambitions. His dream shouldn't have consisted of becoming a paid killer for his fractured country.

A loud clatter came from the front of the cave, followed by a loud sigh from Kouta as he beckoned for us kids to come closer. Kenji, who I had completely forgotten about during my heated conversation with Hiroki, toddled past us and headed for the adults.

I then became aware of the strong shivers that wracked my body, so I hurried over the small fire that Kouta had set up from the dry wood they carried with them. The warmth felt delicious on my damp, chilled skin as I got closer and when I reached the empty space next to Hina, I plopped down and put my feet as close to the fire as I dared.

Our group's meager dinner of mystery-meat jerky and some type of edible tubers went by without much ado, and before I knew it we were settling in to sleep for the night. The rain continued in the background and I focused on its constant pattering as I cuddled into Hina's side for extra warmth.

The day's events left me emotionally drained and I felt weary to the bone. The cherry on top, though, was that I felt almost as homesick as I had when I first arrived in this world. Hiroki's similarity to my brother was almost too much for my heart to handle and I longed for something, anything, from home to give me comfort.

I closed my eyes and tried to picture my old house, complete with the rickety bench on the front porch and my mom's bizarre collection of wiener dog artwork. My mother had been a strange woman. She hated dogs, but she loved wiener dog artwork and she had a penchant for singing off-key, regardless of the song type. It had caused me quite a bit of embarrassment during my teenage years when she'd randomly burst into an out-of-tune rendition of a pop song around my friends, but eventually I grew to accept it as one of the not-quite-loveable traits of my mom.

There was one song though, that always reminded me of her. When I was little, I would spend hours sitting with my mom in our tiny kitchen while she baked miscellaneous sweets, all the while singing "You are my Sunshine" over and over again. I had that song memorized inside and out, and it offered me a bit of solace that despite all the things I had gone through, I could still recall the lyrics. I drifted off to sleep with the distant melody playing in my mind with a small smile on my lips.

KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

We started the next day of exhausting travel in the grey light of dawn, and to my consternation, Hiroki stuck to my side like my own personal barnacle. It seemed even my surly demeanor from the night before wasn't enough to scare him off because he chattered at me nonstop for the entire first half of the day.

Kouta took up the head of the group and remained oblivious to the barbs that his wife and my mother shot at each other during their 'conversation'. The only one of us that remained relatively undisturbed was Kenji, and I found myself envious of him. I'd have much preferred his silent company over his loudmouthed brother's.

"And I'll learn to use kunai and I'll be super awesome!" I tuned back into Hiroki's rant as he continued to ramble excitedly about how wonderful his life as a shinobi would be. I couldn't help but be annoyed.

"Will you ever stop talking?" I groaned a bit too loudly, as Hina shot a warning look at me over her shoulder. I had just about had it with Hiroki. Every time I tried to tactfully edge away from him, he just followed me like a shadow, all the while maintaining his constant babble on topics I didn't care about. I was tempted to move near Mei because she was certain to shut him up, but I didn't want to deal with her criticism. I preferred to avoid her special brand of attention, if at all possible.

"Aren't you excited? We'll get to meet the rebels and they'll teach us how to fight! I can't wait to beat up bad guys!" Hiroki continued as if I hadn't said a word. The boy had a one track mind.

"No," I stated resolutely, "there are better things out there than fighting."

He paused in his tirade, and then looked at me like I was some alien creature- which might actually not be too far off the mark. "Nu uh!" Oh, the classic childish comeback, real cute. "Fighting is awesome. You get to beat bad guys and save princesses if you fight!"

"Whatever. Believe what you want," I sighed in response. There was no winning against Hiroki. He was more pigheaded than anyone I had ever met before.

I turned my head around to face forward and focused on following the adults. As usual, we were drenched by the cold rain and the trees loomed above us like sentinels on watch. I was getting sick of seeing trees, mud, and bugs. It was with that thought that I noticed that other than the sloshing noises as we made as we traveled through the mud puddles and the din of the rain, there were no other noises. The forest was eerily quiet- absent of all the usual screeches of exotic birds and the chirping of the bugs.

Highly suspicious at that point and with my nerves set on edge, I picked up the pace to walk alongside my mother, Hiroki following closely behind.

"Mama," I whispered, tugging on her sleeve, "the bugs are quiet. There's something wrong."

As Hina glanced around us surreptitiously, I felt extremely grateful for having her as my mother. Instead of blowing off my observation as the irrational fear of a three year old girl, she took me seriously and made her own scan of our surroundings. Everything about our current situation screamed that there was something wrong, and I could tell Hina agreed by the way her eyebrows knitted together in thought.

The only warning we received for the impending danger was a loud crack as a woman's body crashed right through the middle of a tree and landed on the ground just feet away from us. Mei let out an awful screech and I knew then that any chance we had of hiding was shot by her impulsive reaction. Whoever had attacked the woman- kunoichi, I corrected myself as I noticed the glint of metal on a sash around her waist -would know we were there.

Wasting no time at all, Hina snatched my hand and dragged me off with her into the woods at a frantic pace. It felt like my heart was in my throat and I couldn't breathe properly as I struggled to match my mother's pace. She was practically pulling me behind her because my short legs couldn't keep up. The panic and terror I felt knowing that shinobi, the source of many nightmares, were nearby threatened to override my common sense and I had to actively resist the urge to curl into a ball to hide from the world.

We got some distance away when I finally realized that Hiroki had followed us through the jungle away from his family. He looked as bad as I felt as he panted for air and seemed on the verge of collapsing to the ground from the exhaustion of our impromptu sprint. Hina slowed down to a walk nearby the trunk of a massive banyan tree, and turned to look at Hiroki and me with a stern expression.

"We have to hide. You two need to keep quiet until I say it's safe. That means you, Hiroki," She eyed him, before moving to usher us into the cover of the dangling banyan roots. We were a foot away from precious cover when a kunai knife cut into the ground in front of us and a man's voiced called out lackadaisically, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Hiroki scooted closer to me as we turned to face the ninja while he stared at us with bored, hooded eyes. "You see," the man drawled, "Hanzo-sama clearly said that there would be no traveling in this part of the Land of Rain."

He paused, as if waiting for us to reply before continuing, "And yet, here you are. What shall I do?"

Every muscle in my tiny body was tensed with anxiety; despite this man's seemingly mellow attitude, I could tell there was something off about him. He resembled a cat playing with its prey before killing it.

The shinobi cracked his neck while he reached into a pouch at his waist and pulled out something that looked similar to a carving knife. He looked up at the sky, as if contemplating the position of the veiled sun before strutting closer to our huddled forms. "I've got a bit of time, so let's have a bit of fun," he grinned as he reached out his arm to grab me from my mother's grasp.

In the blink of an eye, the sadistic shinobi was blasted away from us by a large spurt of water, and a cluster of knives flew past us towards the ninja. Without a second thought, Hina grabbed both Hiroki and me and hustled us away from the battle as fast as she could while remaining low to the ground.

Bits of debris and knives were falling around us and I prayed that I would get out of there alive. With Hiroki's hand grasped in my left hand as he followed behind us and my right hand clasped in my mother's, I kept my eyes on the ground below and tried not to think about the knives flying around that could slice through my spinal cord at any second. It was no easy task.

Every second felt like a millennium and when we could see a line of thick trees a bit ahead that we could escape behind, the relief I experienced was overwhelming. It was my second brush with death in the past month and I had been lucky enough to survive it.

I was so busy basking in the relief of surviving this second incident that I almost missed Hiroki's hand loosening around mine. I turned my head to urge him to move faster when I saw it. His face was streaked with mud and everything would have been normal if not for the knife buried into his side. It was gushing blood, and I knew that it must have hit something vital.

I yanked my hand out of Hina's clutch immediately, despite her protests and kneeled onto the ground next to Hiroki. Frantically, I pushed my hands against his side around the blade, knowing better than to pull it out, and tried to block the freely flowing blood.

"Chieko-chan," Hina whispered to me pityingly, "it's too late. We can't help him."

It seemed so callous of her to say that, and I desperately wanted to deny it, but I knew she was right. There was nothing we could do. That didn't mean he had to die alone though. Hiroki's eyes were full of terror and pain and there were tears welled up in his eyes. I didn't have the heart to walk away from this little boy on his death bed, especially when I knew how frightening it was to experience.

Struggling to hold back tears, I removed my blood coated hands from his side and grasped his hand tightly to offer some form of comfort. I tried to not focus on the blood that was starting to seep out of the corner of his mouth, but it was almost impossible. It stood out starkly against his pale skin and I would have stared at it mindlessly if he hadn't chosen to speak up.

"I guess…I guess I won't get to save princesses or fight bad guys," He choked out around wet coughs with a small grimace. I almost let out a hysterical giggle at his statement even though it wasn't the slightest bit funny. Even on his death bed, Hiroki was focused on his goal of becoming a ninja. It was like some form of cosmic irony that he would still dream of being a shinobi, even after getting fatally injured by one.

Silence spanned between us as I struggled to find the right words to say to him. I tightened my grip a little bit on his hand and hoped it would convey what words could not. Hina had stopped insistently tugging on my shoulder to get me to move, and I assume she realized that I intended to be there with Hiroki until the last second.

A wet sounding sputter coughed out of Hiroki's mouth as he tried to force the words out as he looked at me desperately, "I don't want to die here." His plea broke my heart and I couldn't hold the tears back any longer. They dripped down my face in miserable streams, hot with anguish.

I knew he needed something to console him, anything to help him think past the pain and the hopelessness so I told him, "I know. You'll go somewhere better though- somewhere where you'll be happy and safe and you'll get to see your mom and dad and Kenji again." I was babbling by the end of it around my sobs, but I hoped he would understand what I was trying to say. I didn't know if what I said was true, but I hoped, _prayed_, that he would be spared what I was going through. He deserved peace and happiness, not this relentless guilt and worry and grief.

The rasps coming from his chest were becoming worse and I knew he was on his last leg. Hiroki looked me in the eyes and I felt his hand start to go limp, but he had something he needed to say. "Chieko-chan," he garbled around mouthfuls of blood, "please, could you please do it for me?"

I was confused as to what he wanted me to do, but I didn't have to wait much longer for him to say, "I-I can't do it, but you can. You'd make a good ninja…and…" he trailed off his thoughts.

Struggling to find the words to answer, I looked around the area, dully noting that I couldn't hear sounds of the battle any longer, and when I looked back down, he wasn't breathing anymore. A choked, ghastly sound wrenched itself from my throat and I felt the urge to scream. No matter how much I wanted to though, I couldn't. My mouth was ajar with a silent wail and I barely registered it when Hina wrapped her arms around me and buried my face into her chest.

Despair drooped itself over my shoulders like a heavy, cold shawl and I gasped for breath around my shuddering sobs. I couldn't understand why it affected me so badly. I barely knew Hiroki for more than a day; I didn't even cry when that other man died in front of me in Yokoburi. Yet, despite knowing all that logically, it didn't stop the grief and guilt from rearing its ugly head.

I had been so busy rejoicing the fact that I had gotten away unscathed from yet another encounter with shinobi when right behind me, Hiroki had been stabbed. I was so _selfish_. I should have moved faster or switched places or made Hina lead us a different way. A thousand different scenarios popped into my head on how I could have prevented Hiroki's death and each one made the burden of guilt heavier.

Then there was his last wish. He wanted me to become a shinobi- to become a person that contradicted every belief that I held. All because his life was snuffed out before he even had a chance. A lifetime's worth of choices and mistakes and achievements and hopes and dreams were eliminated when the last light left his eyes. And it was caused by a ninja, the very thing Hiroki dreamed of becoming.

"Hey, are you two alright?" The sound of a young man's voice drifted over to me, and slowly I raised my face to look over at him. His spiky, bright auburn hair and blue eyes seemed painfully familiar, but I was too immersed in my sadness to care.

The friendly grin on his face faded as he took in the sight of Hiroki's prone body covered in blood until it disappeared. He rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. "Oh, I didn't realize," he stuttered out as he took in my stricken face and my bloodied hands still clasped around Hiroki's limp one, "I'm so sorry for your loss."

Unbidden anger rose within me. Here was a man who might have been the one to throw the knife that was buried in Hiroki's side and all he could say was 'I'm sorry for your loss'? I was furious at this shinobi's lack of remorse. It didn't matter to me that it probably was an accident or that he probably saved our lives from the sadistic loyalist. All I knew was that a precious life- the life of a seven year old boy who could have gotten married and had kids and many happy memories –was snatched away from this world. I knew, in that moment, that I couldn't do it. I couldn't complete Hiroki's last wish.

All I could do was apologize over and over again to Hiroki's spirit and hope that he found it in his heart to forgive me for my selfishness.

**Hello! Thanks for reading chapter 3! I hope that you enjoyed it, despite the nice, depressing ending. It sucked to kill off Hiroki because he was pretty fun to write; alas, it was necessary. This chapter is a bit longer than the others to make up for the possible delay in updating in these next few weeks. School has begun and I've saddled myself with a whopping 16 units. That plus work will make my free time almost nonexistent. Lucky me. =/ **

**Anyway, I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to review last chapter! I appreciated reading each and every one of your comments and I loved hearing your thoughts about the themes running central through the storyline. You guys are awesome! :)**

**I sincerely hope that I can live up to your expectations on how Metanoia is progressing and I look forward to hearing what you think about this chapter!**

**Thanks again!**

**Amai**


End file.
