Disclaimer: I do not own the Naruto franchise in any way. This was simply written for my own amusement and I do not make a profit off of this in any way. I also did not invent the concept of self-inserts.
This is just an idea that I've had for a while now and I wanted to write it dow. I hope some of you will find this enjoyable.
I don't really remember what happened after I died. Actually, I can't really remember just how I died in the first place. I just knew that I had once existed and that I died and that I was consequentially supposed to be dead.
Because of that it took me quite some time to realize that I was, in fact, not dead at all - though that might have had something to do with the fact that a baby's brain was not yet meant to mull over topics like cycles of reincarnation, the existence of an afterlife or anything of that sort. Actually it seemed like my baby mind had just shoved my adult consciousness into the furthest corner of my mind, to stay there until my baby brain was developed enough to be able to properly deal with the complexity of adult-thoughts. In short this meant that the rational, adult part of me just zoned out most of the time, letting baby-me take over.
Looking back I must say, I am incredibly grateful for the general hazy fog, that covered my developing mind during the beginning of my new existence, since it left me with little room for any sort of existential crisis that I would surely have undergone otherwise. Instead it let me focus on the much more important aspects of life - like sleeping and cuddling into the small warm body that I was sharing my crib with. Moreover that ensured that I couldn't really remember what was going on around me most of the time, which was nice, considering that I really didn't feel any imminent need to remember breastfeeding or diaper changing.
What still stood out to me about my new beginning though, was the ever present other one. We were always together and even if the people around us needed to separate the other one and me to take care of us individually, we were never apart for very long. It took me a while to realize that this meant that I had a twin - a brother, as I would learn later. The concept of having a sibling was very strange to me, as far as I can remember I was an only child before I somehow died, but the additional presence was very welcome. His constant presence and companionship gave me something to focus on and to interact with - especially once we had both learned how to do more than just lie on our backs.
I do not remember my new mother. I was told later that she had passed away a few weeks after giving birth to us. Apparently she had always been a bit frail and the stress of having twins had seemingly been to much for her. At some point I must have decided not to focus too much on that. Thinking about what could have been and what once was made me sad and it made me remember that I had once had other parents that I would most likely never see again. Even if I could no longer recall their faces or their names, thinking about the parents and the mother I no longer had still filled me with a cold and empty feeling that I didn't like at all.
However I do remember my new father and I adored him - even if I missed my old family, my baby mind actually didn't really let me dwell on that too much for the most part, not when this man and my brother made me feel so safe and warm and loved.
Our father spent a lot of time with us. He would hold us, talk to us, play with us, take us out into the garden or carry us around the house (or was it a mansion? maybe it just seemed so big because I was so small…) to soothe us whenever we were crying. Really, I don't think that I was very prone to crying - at least not this time around - but my brother was, and some part of me that was undeniably and irreversibly connected to him, made me upset whenever he was, forcing our father to deal with two crying babies at once rather often.
It took me until sometime between having learnt to roll from my back onto my belly and back again - a delightful way to spend your afternoon, really - and learning to sit up on my own, to learn mine and my brother's names - before then it had simply never occurred to me to puzzle about that: My name was Haruhi and my brother was called Neji.
Also another person had entered our lives more frequently. It was a man. A man who looked like my father, but wasn't my father. Apparently I wasn't the only one with a twin in this family. My uncle's name was Hiashi and I often heard him call my father Hizashi - and REALLY all those names should have tripped me off way sooner than they actually did (again I attribute that lack of attention to crucial details to my fuzzy baby mind)
It must have been when Neji and I were a little over a year old, when something terrible and evil roused us from our sleep. Back then I did not know what that was but I felt a terrible weight settle over me that made it near impossible to breathe. Something powerful and frightening and angry and so purely evil. I wanted to cry, to scream - I really did - for my father to come and hold us and make the terrible feeling go away! But I couldn't. I was too afraid to do anything but lie still, petrified, crying silent tears and waiting - because if it heard us it would surely come and kill us. At some point our father came to us and took us into his arms.
Even weeks after the Kyuubi attack, Neji and I were still terrified of any loud noise and we simply refused - or rather could not - fall asleep without our father holding and soothing us.
Some time after that - nii-san had just started to walk properly, while I was still a bit wobbly on my legs and could only manage a couple of steps before I'd fall over (but I was determined to catch up as soon as possible!) - otou-san took us to another part of our home (our home is really big) and I recognized it as the part where our uncle lived. We entered one of the rooms and were sat down on a carpet. Neji immediately flopped down and buried his face in the fluffy fabric and since it looked like he was having fun, I decided to join in. Because we were so busy with the carpet and ourselves, it took Neji and me a while to realize that someone else had sat down next to us. It was our uncle and he was holding a small bundle in his arms.
At this point in my life a huge part of the fog that surrounded my mind had already cleared up and I could proudly say that I generally understood what people were trying to tell me - even if I had yet to master the art of speaking… forming words is hard, okay! - therefore I actually understood what my uncle told us next. And it was a sentence that would change my life forever.
„This is your cousin Hinata."
Up until this point I had not even thought about questioning the names of the people around me. Or the fact that some of our caretakers were wearing weird forehead protectors with a spiral symbol etched into the metal plate. Or even the fact that every single person I had met so far, even my own father and brother - and me too, but I had not looked into a mirror yet - had pearly-white eyes with no visible pupil but were obviously not blind, judging by their behavior and the fact that I could see.
But for some reason, the fact that my little cousin was named Hinata - a place in the sun - changed everything. Something just clicked into place. It was as if she was the last missing piece and only now that I had collected all the pieces and completed the puzzle could I see the entire picture.
By this point I had sort of accepted the concept of reincarnation as a fact of life. The idea was still somewhat strange, but both baby-me and adult-me had agreed that it was not worth it to dwell on the issue. I was just one year old, I would certainly not be able to figure out the meaning of life and the mysteries of after-life and there were much better and more important things that I could focus my energy on.
But the idea of being reborn into a completely different - fictional - universe. A universe where they trained their children to become deadly killing machines! A universe where they branded little children of the branch family of the noble Hyuuga clan with the Kago no Tori no Juin - the caged bird curse seal - that they could use to destroy your brain cells! A seal that I would receive when this little girl - my cousin - turned three!
The reality of my situation began to dawn on me, that I was somehow in the Naruto universe and that I would be branded with a seal that could be used to torture me and that I would probably die before I even reached my teens, because somehow the people in this world thought that giving children sharp throwing knifes and all kinds of other deadly weaponry was a good idea - and don't even get me started on the jutsu! Not to mention that there was a war coming and countless people would die and... and Neji would die! My brother would die and I had no idea if I could do anything to prevent that... if I even should... had I already changed things? Were we all doomed just because I somehow ended up here? And even if I hadn't changed anything yet... would I even live long enough to make any sort of impact?!
At some point I must have started to hyperventilate as I continued to stare at the sleeping baby in my uncle's arms - my uncle who was the head of the Hyuuga clan! And because the thought of reincarnation and multiple universes and child-soldiers and torture was simply too much for me to handle at any given moment, baby-me helpfully decided to take over again and I did the only sensible thing that anyone could do in such a situation: I started crying.
