Disclaimer: I own none of Naruto

It is a dark and stormy day.

The clouds hang in front of the moon like a curtain and rain pours down from the sky. Lightning flashes in the distance, illuminating the silhouette of trees like twisted monstrosities of hands, grasping for the sky. The ground is wet, slippery and dyed red like blood by the flashing lights of an ambulance.

The sirens of many police cars scream, rending the air with their cries.

...so did many people.

Soon, blood actually pollutes the water, spreading like a plague through the clear liquid. It is a beautiful sight, like when you drop red food coloring into a glass, the dye exploding in a vicious cloud of red. But this time, it's on the hard asphalt of a road, the black stones glittering with rain and blood mixed together. It also occasionally flashes purple when the blue lights shine instead of the red ones.

I know, it sounds seriously cliche and boring. It isn't as if we all haven't heard some sort of story like this before. And guess what?

This happens on Halloween.

Honestly, there must be some higher being that's finding enjoyment in this. Things like this don't just happen to people.

Here I lie on the ground, on the grass of some poor person's lawn, no doubt they are one of the many people screaming right now. Probably also running around like headless chickens. My eyes are half open, I have already lost control of my limbs due to blood loss, so giving the finger to the sky is out of the question. Not to mention that it would bring my sanity into serious questioning, though the excuse of being delirious due to blood loss might work.

It's not as if I've ever had much sanity to begin with.

Every breath I take comes with sharp stabbing pain from my left chest area. Sharp stabbing pain, well that's rich, I literally got stabbed and I'm experiencing stabbing pain. Yes, puns, they make the world go 'round these days. My thoughts turn towards a downward spiral into inky darkness, it pulls at me, tugs me even closer. I hear someone talking to me, trying to reassure me that I am perfectly alright as hands grasp my body checking my vitals.

I am not alright, it's honestly too late people.

One doesn't simply survive being stabbed through the heart.

Oh lord, the memes, the memes.

Ok, I've gotten that out of my system now, along with the puns.

I've already accepted my fate, it had been decided as soon as the knife pierced me. I'm not in a panic, I'm fine as I am. Really, I am absolutely fine, well, as fine as a person can be after being stabbed in a very important organ that is vital for functioning. Which isn't very fine at all when all things are considered. So I am not fine. Absolutely not fine, thank you for asking.

I sigh internally, I'm about to make some poor medic's day by dying right in front of them.

Honestly.

I'm sorry?

Mom? Dad?

Anyone?

Goodbye…?

As if hearing my final farewell to life, the persistent shadow tugs at me viciously.

No no no nonononononono.

Yet I'm still here, my mind crystal clear and working overtime trying to deny what is happening to me, I had been just walking across the street with my group of friends. The excitement was high, my eyes probably were sparkling with unholy glee. We all had pillowcases full of candy and we're going to our homes. My hair was dyed blood red, and my costume immaculate. All in all, it had been a perfect night of trick or treating.

It was also pretty late.

But this is my first time celebrating Halloween and I wanted to stay out as long as possible.

My friends and I all dressed up as some random anime characters from this new popular anime that just came out. We'd planned all of our costumes accordingly and spent weeks on them. Mine is composed of a long white kimono and blood red hair. Since my hair is actually a light brown, I had to dye it the shade of red I wanted, and it came out a pretty well. Our parents drove us to one of the neighborhoods and dropped us off there, telling us to be careful.

Be careful...

Funny how that turned out with me being stabbed through the heart by some random person in front of my horrified friends. One of them screamed, and people started running away into houses yelling. Someone called the police and ambulance, they had sounded hysterical, I don't blame them for it though. If I were in their place I'd be hysterical too.

Luckily for me, whoever did the deed wasn't a professional, only a small part of my heart was damaged. My lung, however, was another story. I could live with one lung though, a heart is kinda necessary for my continued survival. One thing I can't live with, however, is that they ruined my costume! I had put so much work into it too? Now it's stained with blood and I probably wouldn't ever get it out. Good thing I won't have to live with it much longer, I'll probably die in the next few minutes. But hey, no matter how cliche my death is, it still is pretty cool, right?

Too bad the bleeding couldn't be stopped.

Oh, people tried, they really did.

But nothing worked.

The ambulances can't arrive fast enough, the police are there to ensure that the panic that ensues wouldn't hurt anyone else.

But I'm still dying, from blood loss if nothing else.

And it hurt like hell.

It's funny how in the last moments if your life that you start thinking clearly and contemplating your last few precious moments of remaining life.

I, for one, am annoyed with my predicament.

No, I am livid. I'll make them pay, they'llpaythey'llpayfortakingawaywhat'smine.

Like really, I go and try to have fun with my friends this one night of the entire year only to get stabbed by some crazy person. And now I'm dying?! Someone tell me that this is just a horrible cliche horror movie with the "strong" female protagonist nearly dying and then surviving. But no, some entity from on high has it for me, I'm not cheating death today or anytime soon.

So yes, I am just going to lie here with my lifeblood flowing out of me while I reflect upon my thoroughly messed up life.

Cheerful thoughts indeed.

Why am I still alive?

This hurts goddamnit!

My vision fades all too quickly. I take a breath to steady myself, trying to ignore the pain.

I'll just close my eyes for a moment. It hurts...and I'm so tired, someone give me a blanket? It's cold too.

The darkness yanks.

I don't exhale.

"..."

"This must be a joke." I wave my nonexistent limbs around in frustration.

"..."

"A joke I tell you!" Again, I do not know what I'm accomplishing by shaking my also nonexistent fist at a person I can't even see. What can I say? It's therapeutic.

The darkness does not reply.

It only witnesses.

Forever.

Eternal.

"..."

"Oh, come ON!" The continued silence tears at my rapidly diminishing patience.

"..."

"Fine, be that way all-encompassing-darkness-that-apparently-is-supposed-to-be-the afterlife!" Inwardly, however, I am much more desolate. Thousands of questions swirl in my mind, panic choking up a throat I no longer seemed to have. And yet, the emotions are still just as potent as the ones I had while alive. It's a funny thing, how quickly I've accepted my untimely demise.

If only...no, better not to think of it. Never. Banish the thought. Forget. Erase. Numb. Disassociate. Stop. Stop. Stopstopstopstopstopstopstopstop.

There is no light without Dark, what is life without Death?

The dark is always present.

Omnipotent.

Omniscient.

Listening.

But it will never reply.

"..."

"And now I am talking to myself, a sure sign of insanity and I've been here for like how long? Less than a minute?" I laugh brokenly, what is time anymore? Has it been a minute? I don't know, it feels like forever.

No.

Stop.

"..."

"If this is the afterlife I demand a refund, after dying like that surely I deserve something better than whatever this is." Humor has always been my go-to for diffusing undesirable situations. I just want...no. No. Stop.

"..."

"[And no one answered]-am I going to be stuck here narrating everything that is happening to me? Because the narration would compose of absolutely nothing." References, I've fallen into making references. I only make references when stressed, usually because I am awful at them.

I won't cry.

I can't cry.

You are better than this.

You are stronger than this.

Stop.

I won't cry.

And then, from somewhere far, far away I suddenly hear…

"Please...let me see my child's face…?"

"Errr...sure mystery lady?" My relief to hear something, anything, is palpable. If only I could see too.

"He's...so...tiny"

"Ummm...I am living under the assumption that all children are tiny. So unless he belongs to a race of giants or something, he's obviously tiny."

Ha, humor? What humor? What is funny about death?

"Please, whatever god may be listening, protect my son…"

God? There is no God in Heaven, if there was, I wouldn't be here. And yet, there is a "here", what purpose did "God" have for my death? Someone tell me how my death is justified.

"I am no god...but...I...I will do my best." My bleeding heart will never let me turn away someone who sounds so desperate. Besides, this is her son that we're talking about, a mother's love is unconditional.

"..."

"Will you explain where I am? Please, I don't—" I never get to finish my request before another distinctly masculine voice interrupts.

"Lady Karura's heart rate is dropping!"

"What?"

"Do something, quick!"

Suddenly, it hits me,

"Oh...she is dying too. My condolences for the living and those that will grieve for her passing."

"No..no..nononoNO!"

I laugh a little, strangely detached even though there is nothing to laugh about,

" De Nile isn't just a river in Egypt you know…"

"Why?!"

"Hmmm? Well, there is also this thing called denial. It would seem that you've built a hut firmly on the other side of it. Not a mansion, you haven't gotten there yet, so it is just a hut. You should be proud." I'm not bitter, I derive no twisted satisfaction from the grieve in his voice.

Let someone else suffer too so that I will not be alone in my little void.

"Why did it have to be her?"

Oddly content, I cast my thoughts back to more cheerful times.

"Equivalent exchange mortals! Fullmetal Alchemist is making a comeback! Fullmetal Alchemist is great, just not so much when you've tried to bring someone back via Alchemy."

Your life is forfeit.

The balance as it should be.

"Lady Chiyo, please leave us, and take that child with you too."

"Chiyo. Karura. What next, Gaara?"

Hello.

I startle, noticing a figure standing before me. She's oddly translucent, washed of color, yet I can tell that her hair is a light brown and eyes a steely blue.

Who are you.

Oh! I'm sorry, where are my manners? I didn't mean to startle you, kami-sama. My name is Karura.

Karura clasps her hands together in embarrassment, her strange tunic-like dress crinkling.

So you are this Karura. Why do you call me a god?

She looks at me confused,

Aren't you one?

No god exists in this world, if there is one, they clearly have no regard for the living.

Don't be like that, life isn't so bad.

Her eyebrows draw close together, concerned and disapproving.

Suit yourself.

May I ask why you are covered in blood?

So she can see me when I cannot see myself, fascinating.

I was stabbed to death.

Oh.

There is silence as we contemplate the new information.

Eventually, she extends a hesitant hand towards me,

I have...a favor to ask.

I have no favors to grant, I would watch over your son if I could, but I am unfortunately…indisposed.

How do you know what I was going to ask?

She seems surprised at my knowledge of her favor.

I heard your request.

Karura laughs disbelievingly,

And you say you are not a god?

No, I am not.

Karura reaches for me, her hands clasping mine, brows drawn in sympathy,

I believe in you. Please, I know I do not have much time left here.

I do not know what you want me to do.

Watch over my son, he...won't have a happy life.

Very well. I can not guarent—

Thank you.

And so, the darkness takes her too, but a far better place.

With that, Karura gives me a grateful smile, her body dissolving and fading away. From where her hands held mine, I see myself slowly becoming visible.

A hand.

Wrist.

Arm.

No. This is not right.

That is not my hand, nor is that my arm, these are not the clothes I died in.

These are Karura's. I reach a hand up to touch my hair, it stops at chin length, a good foot shorter than it is supposed to be. I feel my face, finding surprised etched there, The shape is different, slighter than what my face is.

I didn't have time to compose myself before what feels like a steel cable yanking me forward pulls me out of the void and thrusts me into blinding light.

The contract will be fulfilled.

Blinking away the spots that dance in my vision, I revel in how I can now see. I'd taken sight for granted, a mistake that I will try to amend.

I look at my surroundings, curious, this was not where I died.

Sand everywhere, sand over there, and oh, sand over there too! It's very sandy and boring with a bunch of hospital equipment. Did I survive? Why am I in a sandy hospital building, it really isn't a good place for injured people. Standards obviously need to be upped, and this place is also really cramped.

Examining myself further, I come to the conclusion that I am still very much dead.

Of course, why would I be alive? The situation is just becoming curiouser and curiouser.

So I'm a ghost, wonderful. Do I have the ability to float objects?

Setting my sights on a scalpel, still bloody, I attempt to lift it, not caring about the consequences.

Nothing happens, I simply phase through it.

Frustrated, I try again, with a little more success. The scalpel quivers slightly, not enough to be alarming or very noticeable, but it shifted all the same.

Suddenly a hand reaches over to where mine was a moment before, startling me into jumping back. I follow the appendage up to a face, kohl-lined eyes scrutinizing me.

"What was that?"

I shrink on myself, out of my depth and more than a little terrified.

"What was what, Kazekage-sama?" A woman getting on in her years replies quizzically.

"Nothing, nothing at all Chiyo...just…" The Kazekage runs a hand tiredly over his face

On a more serious note, I believe I know where I have ended up, the Narutoverse. In Suna. It doesn't really take a genius to figure it out, the copious amounts of sand, the Yondaime Kazekage Rasa, Chiyo-Sasori's grandmother, and the hitai ate along with people decked out in full shinobi gear. Either this is really good cosplay, or it is a reality.

Normal people would be at emotional extremes right now.

They'd have died, woken up in an unfamiliar place, and figured out that they are still dead.

Lucky for me, I'm not a normal person.

I'm a sixteen-year-old girl that died and somehow...came back to life? Not the conventional way, but I still exist.

I've also watched the entirety of the anime version of Naruto, read too many fanfictions, and surfed the internet for interesting Naruto facts. So, it really isn't surprising that I have a sense of deja vu as I watch Rasa weep over his dead wife's body with Chiyo trying to comfort him. I find some satisfaction in his pain, having never liked that guy, even with the excuse that it was all for the village. He committed atrocities for the greater good. Was there a better way? Maybe not. Do I still hate him? Of course. Karura probably wants to strangle him for all that he's done.

Karura's dead. I saw her.

I...I am her.

She died when Gaara was born.

Conclusion, Gaara has just been born. The voices I overheard confirmed as much.

I look around the room a bit more, my eyes finally rested upon the small child that was being held in some random medic-nin's arms. I moved closer to inspect the newborn Gaara…

My head pounds and I'm suddenly no longer in the hospital.

It's all for the best.

But Rasa…

Please, Karura, understand that this is the only way.

Of course Kazekage-sama, the village must come before everything.

I shudder as my vision blurs again, I'm back, leaning over and peering at a tiny, tiny Gaara.

But he was premature...so I suppose there is a reason for his small size. Still, babies are supposed to be little demons, not adorable-

Oh,

Demons.

I sigh and reach a single ghostly finger to poke the sleeping baby's face.

I had expected it to go through him, so imagine my surprise when it connected with a solid, and alive, cheek. My eyes widened, while my brain went through all the different possibilities and ways to exploit them. Gaara then proceeded to open his eyes and give out a small cry.

It's all very adorable really.

Though I doubt he has the energy to manage something louder, if I recall correctly, he'd always been one of few words.

Well, he did happen to be a sacrificial demon container, also known as a jinchuuriki. I'm not entirely sure on whether Shukaku is insane or not, he acts pretty crazy most of the time with surprising moments of seriousness. My theory is that Shukaku isn't insane, his personality is just like that, and when shit hits the fan, he becomes serious. So a note to self:

If Shukaku's serious then go in self-preservation mode level max.

The one time he seemed sane is when all the bijuu are saved somewhere when Madara is trying to take over the world via the Tsukuyomi.

Bad times indeed.

I try to put my little...episode to the back of my mind. I have a feeling it had something to do with my transformation into Karura. I hope she's alright, somewhere...I don't want to steal her place.

The contract will be fulfilled.

There's searing pain and I cry out, something...something else is in my head.

And then all too abruptly, that stops too. I shake, then laugh hysterically,

"Is this what I am now? Pathetic and crying on the ground of a hospital that shouldn't even exist with the stolen face of a woman a thousand times braver than I can ever measure up to be?"

I cradle my head...no Karura's...in Karura's hands.

I have nothing.

Not even myself.

"Why is this happening? What is that voice? Why am I here? Why am I Karura, or is Karura me? What is this madness?"

I turn my tear-stained face to find Gaara's wide-eyed stare fixated on me.

"What are you doing to me?"

He does not reply, but instead burbles out happy baby noises, before being hit with the exhaustion of just being born.

He goes out like a light, stilling and becoming quiet in the medic-nin's arms.

I wonder if I can kill him. It would be easy, I can touch him and he's a baby.

The contract does not allow that action.

There it is again, that voice, that presence. So foreign and strange, but it doesn't hurt this time and it seems to respond to certain things I do.

It sparks an idea, I wrap my hands around his neck, and I squeeze.

You are violating the contract.

My hands do nothing, breath ragged, and screaming at myself,

What are you doing?!

I let go, Gaara still sleeping soundly, and collapse to the floor, blank and numb. I don't know what I'm doing. Why am I like this.

I don't want to kill him….he's, he's just a newborn.

He's important.

Rasa?

Yes, Karura?

I'm..I'm pregnant again.

…

I'm sorry, I...I know it's been hard…

Karura, no, this is great news! I'm just surprised.

Really?

Of course! We'll be having our third, isn't it exciting?

Isn't it...exciting? A new "life". Not much of one but...I...I can still think. I'm….extant.

That is enough, it has to be enough.

Thank you, Karura. I will do my best...to honor your last request. I'm...sorry. So, so, sorry.

I'm crying again, but it's nothing new.

The medic nin holding Gaara says something to Rasa, but I'm too numb to catch what the exchange. He walks out of the room with Gaara, I startle, a shock running through me and I scramble to my feet, my borrowed feet.

I promise I will give them back to you someday, Karura.

I'll make you proud.

I'll raise Gaara in your place, at least, I'll do my best.

Following the two, I glance at the corridor we're walking through. It's lined with doors, some of them open, most of them closed. There's sand everywhere, but that's expected.

We reach a door at the end and the medic opens it before shutting it in my face I didn't even have a chance of following them inside first.

The bastard.

Rude.

We eat the rude.

I put a careful hand on the door, watching it phase through before I follow it, coming out the other side into what looks like an incubation room.

The room contains quite a few other babies. I went around observing them while the medic-nin talked to some of the nurses about what they were supposed to do with Gaara. I try to comfort one that was crying...but that only made them wail louder. A nurse hurries over to shush them. I suppose that babies are more sensitive to the supernatural than adults. They still can't see me like Gaara can though…

The medic left after giving the Kazekage's instructions to the nurses and one of them came over to settle Gaara in one of the incubators. The nurses left after that, only to come in again when he woke up a few minutes later and started crying for food. They leave quickly after completing their tasks.

I close my eyes, perhaps I should sleep if I can. There really isn't much I can do. Gaara stirs in his incubator, I see him staring at me when I reopen my eyes. It's funny how he seems to have a fascination with my face. I ruffle his hair, flinching when I remembered what I had tried to do.

"Sleep tight, little one. Mother is here."

I open my eyes to the desert sky, uncannily blue and flat. The sand underneath me rumbles ominously,

'Why are you here, human'

I laugh, so this is where I ended up. I stand and turn, coming face to face with the Ichibi

'Hello, it is a pleasure to meet you Shukaku.'

Okay, the first chapter is done. I'm gonna do a rehaul of the other chapters too. This is a lot darker than I originally wrote it...like wow, brain, what are you on now? Anyway, thanks for reading!

Edit: I have a Discord! It's a work in progress, but feel free to say hi~!

It's linked in my bio.