Title: Relent Unwilling
Summary: A boy born into the Naruto universe; is it truly our moments of decision that shape destiny? OC Insert.
A/N: First Fic, shoutouts to 'Dreaming of Sunshine' by Silver Queen, and 'Iryo-nin Kasa' by Vaengir. Huge inspiration. More on profile.
Prologue
?
Awareness. This is something that I'm sure most newborns lack, to a degree. Everyone I've ever asked agrees. The fact that this was not the case when it came to my birth is a cause of great concern for many, and interest for many others. That doesn't make much sense, I know, but it will if you listen.
My name is Kohaku Nakano, and this is the story of my less-than-usual life.
Social interaction has taught me much, so I'll skip the gross bits. Just know that I've been aware since, in my opinion, the very moment of my 'conception'. Don't bother trying to ponder what it may have been like for me to be aware of being a person, a being, a form- without yet having an actual body of my own. I'll help you avoid that by trying (my best) to translate my memories into words. As aware as I was, the concept of time was a very real thing to me, though being without sight or recognizable sound for so long left any hopes of TELLING time far from my reach. Thinking about it, that IS something you may be able to comprehend.
Imagine sitting in a room so dark you are left sightless, with your sense of hearing also restricted. The only thing to be seen, darkness; the only thing to be heard, your own thoughts. Could you keep track of the time? Could you count the seconds? If so, for how long? I'll let you go insane over that little concept later, for now, listen on. Left in that little dilemma as I was, there was also one more thing to plague me, one which I'm sure you can't perceive. There 'alone', I had the understanding that I was, but not WHO I was. Nor what, I suppose. After some time considering this all, my mind eventually tired, and I fell into a long rest.
I was woken from this rest, rudely I might add, by the event I've come to know as my birth. Skipping the gross bits as I said I would, here is the jist of what I felt; pressure, more pressure, movement, cold, so cold, confusion, warmth, and finally a temporary loss of awareness. As far as I've gathered, that temporary loss of awareness was caused by one thing.
Pain.
The thing known as ones' chakra network is deeply interwoven with the body, and some go as far to say that it even stretches into the soul. Such an intricate thing begins growing the moment a child separated from their mother, as at that moment it is deprived of the nourishing chakra that was once being donated to sustain it. Trust me when I say it is not a pleasant thing, to this day I thank the pain receptors of my younger self for having the sense to knock me out. Unfortunately, this did not save me from the after-growth pains. Said pains are all I can remember for some time after waking from my reprieve. When they finally dulled, I was able to interpret that it had been several weeks since my birth.
Looking back on it, my understanding of time and well... things in general is rather confusing. Moreso than my general awareness after birth. I would think about how something felt, or what the blurry shapes I was able to see looked like, and ideas would pop into my head without reason. I had no logical way to explain how I knew the minor pains that racked my body were the effect of hunger, nor any proper way to express it to the beings I knew as my 'parents'. After a while, (I'm beginning to see a trend here), I learned to ignore these insights and live life simply.
In my and your own personal interest, I'm going to skip over a large portion of my life. The 'baby', and 'potty training' eras. I will say, I had gained a rather large amount of respect... or some may say love, for my parents for living through said eras. Being totally aware isn't all fun.
By the time my vision had cleared enough for me to see the world clearly, I had learned a number of things. The first and most prominent was that, in fact, there were no 'parents'. There was simply mother. Mother, Yuuko Nakano, was without a husband. The voice that I heard that I had assumed was my father was really that of the many in town who sought to help Yuuko get along as a single mother. The second was just that; we lived in some small village on the coast of some great ocean.
Mother and I shared many traits. Straight, wine red hair, pale complexions, amber eyes (I suppose that may be where she got my name), and feminine features. Yes, feminine features. All children at young ages may look a bit neutral, but this was not the case when it came to my self, as according to many, I look very feminine for a male. Despite being alone, mother always seemed strong. Not bothered by my constant neediness, not bothered by her lack of free time, and most of all not bothered by the attention she seemed to get from the other townsfolk.
Around when I turned one was a major turning point in my life. By then I could already say a few basic words, feed my self (to an extent), and mimic the actions of others around me (again, to an extent). These, as far as I was aware, were all normal infantile behaviors. What came next, though, was most definitely not.
A day like any other, I was taking a midday nap. Mother had plans for us to travel with a few friends to another village down the coast, something about reuniting with old friends. Everything was right, and my more-than-mature mind was eager to see the world outside our little village for the first time in a long while. Then suddenly, it hit me like an explosion. A bad dream. A bad dream about war, between various groups of ninja, their nationalities seeming to be made up of more than I even knew existed.
When the dream, more of a nightmare, passed I woke up screaming and whining like any other infant. Mother eventually managed to calm me down, but this didn't stop me from thinking about the dream- which seemed to be ingrained into my memory all too clearly. I simply wasn't able to write it off as my overactive imagination working itself up, the visions had been far too detailed, even for the standards of an adult. The more I thought into it, the more a terrible feeling of dread settled into me. Mother and I couldn't be allowed to go on our journey. Even if the nightmare meant nothing, I was far too shaken up to bother with traveling.
Thus, I did the one thing I could to force mother to remain home and abandon her plans. I fussed up a storm. I was as unreasonable as I could be at my young age, and although I knew it was for her good- I still felt terrible making Mother put up with me. It worked, to say the least. Having always had a rather calm child, she didn't take it lightly when I did act up. She canceled her plans with her friends, insisting that having the two of us travel to them would be all sorts of baby-disastrous. She stayed home and tended to me, and with that I was perfectly content.
... Until a the end of the next day, when I heard a local market-man discussing something with Mother.
The Third Shinobi War had begun, and nations all across the continent were being dragged into it.
Mother looked at this as a very lucky coincidence (at first), as it was clearly unsafe to be traveling at a time like this.
I looked at it as a sign. A sign of terrible things to come.
A/N: Wooh. Wrote this on a whim, though I'm looking to carry it on. I suppose this counts as a self insert? Who knows, read the story and maybe you'll find out.
Double props to Silver Queen and her 'Dreaming of Sunshine' fic, because of my semi-similar formatting.