Title: Splashes and Ripples
Summary: I'm Kiyoshi Yukimura, jounin of Konohagakure, except I'm not. I'm Katsu Yoshida, high school second year, except I'm not. I'm kind of both. It gets a little complicated then. Maybe I should explain. (OC-reincarnates-as-OC!fic. Male!OC.)
Notes: Okay, woohoo! My first OC fic.
Now, I've seen several (*cough* many) OC fanfics with female leads, and hey, maybe let's give it a try with the boys, ne? I do certainly hope that Katsu/Kiyoshi does not turn out to be a Stu because I abhor them.
Alright, now warnings. I personally like to give readers a heads up of what they might expect from a certain story before they read it.
This is rated T for a reason; swearing and violence are included in the package of "T".
There will be MULTIPLE OCs, as clearly Kiyoshi is not related to any canon characters, and you can't expect canon characters all the way, if Kiyoshi is intended to start off as one of the "minor" characters.
I will not write many, if any at all, non-canon relationships like Kakashi/Anko or whatever you guys ship. However, there will be the occasional case of OC/Canon, but they will not last very long.
Homosexual and heterosexual relationships will come into play, so if you dislike the former, get your homophobic ass out of here.
This story is unbetaed, and I do not intend to get a beta. I'm confident in my ability to spell and use grammar, thank you, though if you do find any mistakes, feel free to point them out in reviews or PM. This is my first "first person" POV fanfic, so expect some mistakes.
Flamers only serve to increase my review count. By the way, constructive criticism is not flaming. I love constructive criticism.
In case it isn't clear in the actual beginning of the fanfic, this story begins in Kakashi's timeline.
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Prologue: Pure Victory
I'm Katsu Yoshida, and I'm dying.
To be honest, the thought of death really never terrified me, and it doesn't now, when I'm sixteen and approaching death's door. Maybe it's because I've fulfilled most of what I've always wanted to do in life; I've gone to school and gotten good grades, I've made plenty of friends, and I even confessed to some people I liked, even if I got turned down often.
I've even said goodbye already. I say it every day, to everybody who takes the time to visit me. It's just in case, because I might not get the chance to, because I might die the very next moment.
I had received the news of my illness a year back, and told me they could prolong my lifespan if I stayed for treatments. I had declined, much to most others' shock.
Nobody really understood my reasoning, not even my best friend, but to me, to this day, I don't regret it at all, even when there's no saving me now.
When the doctors had offered, I personally had thought, If I'm going to die, then I might as well live, first. The treatment takes a long time, I know. It would just be a huge waste of my time, and not worth it at all, when I could be spending my last three hundred sixty-five or so days enjoying what's left of my life.
Nobody had understood my logic, they still don't now, and I don't expect anybody else to, either, though there is somebody who might have made the same choice had she been in the same position, and that person is my late mother, Kokoro Yoshida.
Kokoro. "Heart, spirit"—a name that suits her just fine, because she was a wild and strong lady, respected by all.
She had died in a car accident when I was six, but even at that young age, she had managed to leave a deep impression on me, and left me with her main philosophy—"Live life to the fullest". And I have, at least I think I have, since I'm satisfied with the sixteen years I was alive.
I know my father will grieve, but I have two little sisters, twins, and they must be taken care of. I imagine that he'll invite Aunt Michiko over to help take care of them.
It's kind of hard to stay awake, even with a volume of manga on my lap to help keep me occupied.
I'd purposefully asked my father to bring the last volumes of all of my favorite manga to keep me occupied. It would be appropriate to be reading the last as I die. A little morbid, but it's something that keeps me entertained.
I smile a little as I turn to the last page of Naruto. At least this series has a happy ending.
The book slides out of my hands as I fall asleep.
There is nothing more.
.
I'm Kiyoshi Yukimura, at least that's what Okaa-chan and everybody else tells me, but sometimes I'm a little too slow in responding when someone calls my name, because my mind tells me I am Katsu Yoshida.
This year, I'll be three years old, or at least that's what Okaa-chan tells me, with a pretty smile that always makes me smile too. But that same voice that tells me that my name is Katsu Yoshida also tells me that this year I'll be nineteen, but that's silly, because I've seen the big nineteen year olds and I hardly reach up to their knees.
Since I'm still only three, I'm also very tiny. I can't reach a lot of things, and sometimes I have a feeling that I should be able to get that book off the shelf, even though it's on the very top and I have trouble to get to even the third row on it.
Okaa-chan says that I'm smart. Brilliant. She says that because I can understand the numerous kanji, katakana, and furigana on the page that most children twice or even three times my age can't read.
Sometimes when I'm sitting on Okaa-chan's lap, I feel like I'm too old for this, even though boys and girls double my age still do. I push the feeling aside, because I like being held by Okaa-chan.
When Okaa-chan takes me out, I often get a sense of déjà vu, like I've done this before, in a different lifetime, even if the settings are different.
Okaa-chan's name is Miyako Yukimura. She's a very pretty woman, with short blue-tinted black hair and mellow green eyes. She says Otou-san is dead, and even though I've never heard the word before, I understand exactly what it means. But that persistent voice in my head tells me that Okaa-chan's name is Kokoro Yoshida, she has long and brown curls of hair, her eyes are a sharp black, and she's dead, not Otou-san.
Okaa-chan goes out a lot, because she's a proud kunoichi. I wanna be just like her when I grow up—strong and brave. That stupid voice in my head tells me that ninja existed in a time long, long ago. I don't understand it at all.
Occasionally, when we're talking about our village, Konoha, I slip up and say Japan. People look at me strangely, and I wonder where the word comes from, and I correct myself afterwards.
I have dreams every night, but they're clear and I don't forget them the next morning when I wake up. They're like memories. Maybe they are.
Turning four (or is it twenty?), I am no longer certain of who I am.
I'm Kiyoshi Yukimura. I've gotten used to the name, and I like the meaning—pure, innocent snowy village.
Yet I clearly remember another life under the name Katsu Yoshida. Victory lucky field.
I'm Katsu. I'm Kiyoshi.
It's not like I'm suddenly stuck with two personalities. No, not at all. It's that I'm a little confused about who I am.
I've never been good with mind games.
I suppose I can compromise and be both.
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a/n: Whoop, another project! YAY.
Please review and tell me what you think. I really appreciate it. I promise the next chapters will be far longer, since this is more of a prologue than anything else.
If you haven't figured it out already, the title of this chapter/prologue is a combination of the meanings of "Kiyoshi" and "Katsu", pure and victory respectively.
