Prologue

I had heard a lot about dying by the time I finally got around to doing it.

"Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

"Death is just another path, one which we must all take. The grey rain curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass."

"We're all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?"

"There are no happy endings. / Endings are the saddest parts, / So just give me a happy middle / And a very happy start."

I had also heard a lot of what came afterward. Most could be summed up with my soul either going to a Bad Place or a Good Place, depending on whatever great cosmic being wound up being in charge of weighing such things. One of the most horrifying ideas, for me, was the idea of nothingness. A concept that was presented to me, funnily enough, through an anime character. Ever since the idea of ceasing to be, of just stopping was something that terrified me.

The actual act of dying was strangely peaceful for two reasons.

First, the most obvious one, it was a relief from the pain I had found myself in. Second, the fact that I was aware of being released from pain meant I still in fact existed. Even if it was on a level that left me confused and was mostly blank. It seemed I went from dying to existing once more instantly. There was an obvious hole in between that told me I had done something during the period, but could no longer remember what.

Maybe it was one of those things a human mind couldn't stand to remember, so it was blocked out. Maybe the afterlife was such as secret it needed to be hidden from me so I wouldn't say anything. Or maybe it was so horrifying I had blocked it out in self-defense.

Whatever the case was when I went from dying into a new blurred mess of wet existence, I didn't scream.

I giggled.

So honestly it was probably my own fault I was saddled with the name my new parents chose.

Taeko. It was written 妙子. It combined 妙, tae, meaning "strange, bizarre" with 子, ko, meaning "child".

Apparently, the giggling had left a mark on my parents. Kaa-chan later told me the giggles had led to perplexion on the medic-nin's part and an hour-long three-way debate between her, Tou-chan, and our grandparents on whether to stick with the original name chosen for me, Kohana or naming me something new, the choices being Taeko or Etsuko.

It was decided I was more strange than joyful by the time the argument was interrupted by my brother's birth.

I personally found it to be a pretty appropriate name considering the circumstances.

Going from murder victim to newborn baby in a blink of an eye is a bit more than most people are expected to deal with.

For most of my first year or so I had been operating more or less on two different consciousness.

I had my brief, sharpest moment of clarity immediately following my birth, but it had quickly faded into an in-between state.

On one level I was aware I had lived before. I had memories of growing up, of friends and family, of being an adult. I was aware of what everything was, what was happening around me, and registered this. But my mind couldn't really focus on the information. I would forget it almost instantly. I would get moments of clarity, more often as I grew, in which I would be able to recognize holy shit I'm a baby and fucking hell I was murdered. Never was I awake long enough to actually consider what happen to me or everything I lost.

But for the most part I existed on the level of a baby. My memories were sharper than they should have been and I was definitely a strange, much too aware baby. But ultimately I was an infant. My emotions were that of an infant. I cried when I was hungry, uncomfortable, hurting, or confused. I smiled because I saw others smile. I became attached to the warm, big things that feed and took care of me. Existing at this level I still knew that the big things were "parents" and the existed to care and love me. I knew the other warm body with me was my "sibling". I had vague feelings that a sibling was a good thing, the best thing. Even if this one cried more and smelled. I would spend my time babbling at the other baby and making it smile made me feel happy.

From all accounts, I was a happy baby when I existed on this level more baby than an adult.

For the first ten months of my life, I was Yamada Taeko.

And then in the first autumn of my second life, Taeko burned and Jacquee screamed out of her mouth, waking up and remembering as my small heart stopped and then started again from the overwhelming evil that covered the countryside.

I later found out that my heart had stopped three times that night when the Kyuubi's chakra spread out like a miasma. The only reason I was alive was that we were visiting my grandparents in central Konoha and the medics were able to reach me quickly.

My parents thought it was a miracle at first. But then their happy girl had changed.

I was awake now and I could mourn. And I did, for months, I was shocked and destroyed. Everything I had ever done was meaningless. Everyone I had ever loved or hated was as good as dead to me, a world and life away. Every terrible thing I had ever gone through had led up to me becoming a statistic.

Being alive was a relief, but losing my life was not.

The nightmare retracing how I died wasn't helpful. They mingled in with the memories of the Kyuubi's chakra and left me choking, gasping painfully in my sleep. My parents didn't know what to do with the abrupt change of their child suddenly rejecting them, refusing to sleep, and barely eating.

The only thing that got me through it was my little brother Taro. My twin was my constant companion. We were a unit. Just like my and my siblings had been in my past life. It hurt, the idea of never seeing my big sister and little brother ever again. It hurt like I had lost a limb and felt just as obvious an absence. My new little brother, with his dark black eyes always focused on me, bubbling laughter, his constant mission to continue the smile game, and his soothing unexpectant presence was a balm.

Slowly I crept back into the world. I responded to my parents. The groundwork for affection had been laid already and it was easy on one level to allow myself to return it. After all, some part of me already loved them. But it hurt to look up at Kaa-chan and not find my Mom's sparkling hazel eyes.

I accepted my new family slowly and they were so relieved I felt a bit guilty. It must have been a shock for such new parents. I tried to smile more at them and at some point they became sincere. I never went back to a laughing, light-hearted child, but they returned any interaction with a fierce love that would have been hard to resist.

And then we visited my grandparents again and I got an even worse shock. Ninjas. Everywhere. A mountain with four faces. A grandfather whose "tricks" always involved chakra.

Then and there I uttered my first word, though my parents didn't recognize it as such.

"Fuck," I announced to the room very clearly and in English, watching as Jiji made a beard of leaves stand to his face and Taro giggled beside me.

Note: This was inspired by all the magnificent SI-OC's out there, including Joyous Children by UnderneathXtheXunderneath and Dreaming of Sunshine by Silver Queen.

*I have changed Jii-chan to an informal Jiji to the element the repetitive "chan" but keep the informality.