Summary Dying sucked. Reincarnation sucked. Being born into a murderous, coup d'état planning clan sucked even more. SI-OC

I'm back, after a bazillion years. I truly hope this'll be something that I see from start to finish, although a lot of planning will have to happen for this to continue. I make no promises, but hopefully, this can be something great. Also, super dramatic, because I've always loved drama- and as we know the Uchiha Clan can never be far from it- but I digress.

I'm hoping with this fic to get into the more political aspects of the Uchiha clan, and the duality between the Will of Fire and the Curse of Hatred. Let's hope I get far enough to explore these subjects- and yes, I know the Uchiha's get all the love but come on- they're pretty awesome. At least they're not as bad as the Hyuga.

So here's a new first chapter. Enjoy.

~oOo~

The 50 meters of concrete sidewalk that separated her house from the corner store seemed like a world's distance at this moment. The plastic bag weighed heavy in her arms, her hummingbird heart beat wildly in her chest. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. She felt small under the eyes of the fluorescent lights and hold of linoleum tiles. Briefly she considered the events of her life, and a feeling of pure disappointment settled into her bones.

Across the room, through aisles of products the splatter of the cashier's blood painted a cruel picture of humanity. When she'd walked into the store he'd offered her a dazzling smile, framed by tired eyes. Now, he was reduced to a bloodied heap on the floor, exposing humanity's secret of being nothing but matter. He'd tried to be the hero, and that's the legacy his family would be left with.

Her ears were still ringing from the gunshots.

"What did you do?! Is he dead?!" A young, frantic voice yelled somewhere from the left. She couldn't see him, but imagined he was the kid she'd previously spotted eyeing the security cameras. He'd bumped into her before, a genuine "sorry" whispered under his breath. All bones enveloped in plaid and cotton, allstars embellished with nonsensical scribbles: a teenager. He was someone she could've been friends with, but now, despite their similar ages, they seemed leagues apart. Too young, too high strung, too able to be manipulated, and now an accessory to murder.

"I- I didn't know! He just jumped at me man! He just jumped and I-" The other boy shook in disbelief.

"You killed him!"

The words seemed too casual.

"I-I-"

"Give me the gun."

Shuffling, a click of the safety, wet footsteps. One moment of silence.

"We're going to hell for this."

More footsteps, this time in her direction. She shrunk lower into herself, her clutch of the bag making her knuckles turn white. Well, now she knew what she was, not a fighter, nor a flighter- just paralyzed; pathetic.

Air. She needed air.

There was only one emotion left that she could feel. Something completely primal and all too familiar, but not to this extent.

Panic.

In permeated everything.

Her heart was pounding as if it would break out of her chest.

From the moment bloody sneakers came into her view, she knew it was all over. Her eyes swept up his shredded crimson-sprayed jeans, to his rugged patched jacket, the downturned baseball cap, and then his face. Resolution. It was set in the clench of his jaw, in the detached withdraw of his dilated pupils, and his rigid posture. The cold metal of the gun glinted in the light, his expression a mixture of shock, regret, and resolve.

Again, he whispered an apology, a rather polite thing to do given the situation, and raised the gun.

There was no time for bargaining...it would've been useless anyways.

BOOM!

The first sensation she felt was pain, unbearable, unimaginable pain. In movies, when a person got shot, it was poetic, the way the light faded from their eyes moments after impact - but that wasn't reality. Reality was suffering, and thinking- A weird sensation of air where air was not supposed to invade. Blood draining like an unattended faucet, and time slowing down, although it seemed like it was passing too fast.

This was it.

She thought in her last moments of the life she'd taken for granted, of the missed opportunities, the unsaid "I love you's" and most of all, the faces of her parents, friends, and what would happen next to them. She thought of the boy and his friend, and how fate had brought them all here in this unfortunate moment- except she didn't believe in fate. It was just life and the nature of it. Maybe she'd been foolish to ignore how exactly imminent mortality was.

Soon the police would come, and what started out a normal day would be known to everyone. It'd be in all the newspapers and on all the local news channels. Her picture, the picture of the cashier, of the teenagers- and the press would make money off of the entire tragedy. Her family would be interviewed, her obituary written, and a stone placed on the ground to mark that she had once existed.

But most of all...after all of that another emotion surfaced. Fear. Fear and anger.

Why her? Why now?

Why this?

A million questions that would be left unanswered. What brought them to this decision, what did they need the money for? Why? Was was she the witness- the victim.

One last terrifying thought of the afterlife flashed.

Her view of the floor filled with crimson and black spots started to dot her vision.

I don't want to die.

Then the lights turned off.

Black.

Ayumu Uchiha watched the smoke from his cigarette dissipate into the air and pondered at that moment at how fleeting life was.

If he had known this thought would be a premonition to the rest of his day's events, he would have gone back to bed with his wife for a few more hours while he still had the time...but of course he didn't, because he was a shinobi, and therefore, a slave to discipline and habit. At 5 a.m., whether the sun chose to rise with him or not, he was awake and prepared to work.

Masa had always said that his discipline and dependability was what made her fall in love with him in the first place, and he always joked at how much of a cliche thing it was for her to say that as an Uchiha. She would simply laugh, and would never deny it- because that's who she was, who they were, and they were proud of their heritage.

Even if it seemed at times that it was hard to do.

As Ayumu took in the sight of Konohagakure illuminated under the the early morning sun's rays, he couldn't help but feel contemplative about the recent, and prospective changes in his life. He had recently been given a promotion in the Konoha Military Police Force, a post he'd taken up to be closer to home. He could hear His wife, his heavily pregnant wife's quiet contented snores a few feet behind him, and the village…

The village was the same as it had always been, more or less. It was the dream of Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha that had come to fruition. Every day Ayumu walked the streets of Konoha where the children of all clan backgrounds pulled pranks on one another, and where he could buy flowers from the Yamanaka's, eat barbecue from an Akimichi restaurant, lose at Shogi to a Nara, and severely piss off a Hyuuga.

It truly was a dream, albeit one that could easily dissolve into a nightmare.

His only hope was that his child could live in peace, far away from the battlefields of war. Although somewhere in his heart he knew that was almost impossible.

"It's too early to be thinking," a muffled voice yawned from behind, the grogginess of having just woken up evident in her tone. "If you keep staring out that window you're going to be late for work."

"I've never been late for work." He quipped as he turned around, a saccharine smile perched on his lips. Someone once told him that Uchihas couldn't exist without love, and at that moment he couldn't help but think they were right, because as he laid eyes on his wife, his pensive thoughts from before faded into oblivion.

"Yet." Masa slurred. Even with the bedhead, she was a vision obsidian locks shot out in multiple directions, some reaching as far as her growing belly. The length was a new style she'd adopted since going on maternity leave, as kunoichi usually kept their hair in more convenient styles. If anything, the pregnancy had only compounded her beauty, or at least in Ayumu's eyes, as it let them experience something akin to normalcy, as if they were civilians and could afford to indulge in more trivial matters.

Maybe she could retire her shinobi career and he wouldn't have to worry about their future...but it'd take a lot of convincing.

He'd leave those matters to the future version of himself.

"Ayumu, don't get lost on me again." He heard her say. "I swear one of these days I'm going to lose you to your own thoughts."

"Maybe." He replied, and began to walk towards the door in mock apathy. It took five steps before he heard what he was waiting for.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

Ah, how he loved domestic life.

"How could I forget?"

He swiveled around and chuckled at her almost childlike looking expression at the notion of him leaving, and went to sit back down on the bed. Placing one hand on her cheek, he set a goodbye kiss on her mouth and another on her belly.

"Satisfied?"

Masa grinned.

"Mmhm. Have a good day at work."

"I'll try my best."

And with that, Ayumu set out like he did every day, a skip in his step and a fire in his heart. Moments like these made his world complete. Afterall he'd need as much optimism as he could get if his smile was going to survive the rest of the day.

His job was to maintain shinobi law, but in reality, it was a ton of paperwork. Insulting really, for a highly skilled shinobi such as himself; who definitely hadn't spent so many painstakingly filled hours of sweat, blood, and tears training for the greater good to staple reports and proofread outgoing letters. He hoped this promotion would at least give him something more engaging to do, like actually helping in dispelling some inter-clan disputes.

But of course, he would rather there be no inter-clan disputes to mediate at all.

It didn't take that long to reach the Hidden Leaf Military building.

"Morning Uchiha-san." The doorman greeted, and in an uncanny display of friendliness, he chose to respond back with a more enthusiastic "Hn" than his fellow clansmen. They all threw amused glances at him, and some rolled their eyes muttering about "young-love", but otherwise paid no heed.

Fugaku met him at the stairs, his brows slightly furrowed in annoyance. If it had been a year or two earlier, that slight annoyance would have been full out exasperation- but Fugaku was more mild-mannered these days given the introduction of his firstborn Itachi a few months ago- although judging from the bags under his eyes, the transition into fatherhood hadn't exactly been the smoothest.

Ayumu would have to ask him for a few tips some other time- but right now he was on the job, his clan leader was right there, and she was counting on him.

Fugaku wasted no time.

"First I would like to congratulate you on your promotion and dedication to our cause. I trust that Yakumi has outlined your new responsibilities?"

Ayumu nodded and hoped nobody noticed the slight narrowing of his eyes at the mention of the name. As happy as he was about the new job, the excitement did not extend to the prospect of having Yakumi as his new boss. The man was known to have staunch anti-Senju sentiments, and his constant discussion of the subject didn't exactly scream "neutrality."

"-I don't have much time so I'm going to be frank: I have a Hyuga dispute to meditate today, so I'm leaving the inner clan affairs in your hands for the time being." Suddenly a stack of folders was shoved into his arms. "Your first appointment is down the hall. Good luck."

And with that, Fugaku promptly puffed into a pile of smoke...or at least his shadow-clone did.

That man truly was busy if he couldn't talk in person; which reminded him that he didn't have that much time to waste either.

He quickly hurried down the corridor for his first case of the day.

Hopefully, it would be interesting.

Twenty minutes later, he figured out that he would have rather stayed a secretary.

"-So what you're saying is that you trashed your teammate's apartment because...?"

"He deserved it! He was saying that I was never going to become Hokage if I was so weak that I couldn't even awaken my Sharingan!" The boy with the orange goggles sputtered his face red as a tomato at this point. Obito was his name. Never in Ayumu's life had he met such a high-spirited member of his own clan. Whoever this Kakashi character was really set Obito off.

And was the reason for Obito to be sitting in his office right now.

"-I can't wait til I actually get it so I can wipe that know-it-all smile off his face and show him what it really means to be a Shinobi!" The boy continued. "And next time I'll burn his rulebook too. If I have to hear about 'putting the mission first' again- I'm going to-"

"Hold on, hold on-" Ayumu interjected, successfully quieting the boy. This was all starting to give him a very painful headache. No wonder Fugaku shrugged these responsibilities on him. "Take a deep breath okay. Nobody is using their Sharingan on their teammates."

Obito pouted and slouched deeper into his chair, obsidian locks casting a rather malevolent shadow over the top half of his face.

Disciplining children had not been in the job description, but it was good practice that was for sure. He only hoped that his child would be less high-strung, because if not, he didn't know how he would survive.

"When I get it I'm going to surpass him and everyone will see..." It was the omission of a child who just wanted to be recognized.

Ayumu sighed. This was getting him nowhere.

"Obito, be patient. You have plenty of time to activate your Sharingan. Just focus on the academy. Just-"

Try to stay a kid for as long as you can, because there's no going back.

All this talk was reminding him of when he had first discovered his own Sharingan, a memory although long past, was not long forgotten. Sure, the dojustu had proven him useful throughout the years but it would have been much more appreciated if it hadn't been garnered through bad experiences.

Sometimes he could still smell the metallic scent of blood in the air and hear the whispers of a once very familiar voice all lost to time.

"But I need it to protect my precious people!"

What an Uchiha thing to say. Perhaps, years prior, he had said the same.

"It'll come with time, don't worry about it."

"But-"

"shhhh..."

Finally, some peace and quiet.

Maybe it was time to change tactics- to try something more unorthodox.

"Obito." At the mention of his name, the boy perked up. "Who do you live with?"

It was a standard enough question.

An awkward expression accompanied this response. "Granny. She lives not too far from here actually. In fact, I can see this building from my house."

"And your parents?"

"Their names are on the KIA stone." Obito admitted.

"I see."

It was a matter of fact reply, not much emotion accompanied it. Many parents names were written on that stone, including Ayumu's- so he didn't think much of it. It did , however, give some insight into the character in front of him now. An orphan it seemed, who wanted validation and would do anything to prove to others that he was worthwhile. A textbook case in the ninja-world really.

Ayumu wrote something along the lines of that on his session report before putting his pen down and getting straight to business.

"Obito, what is my job?" He questioned. The onyx-haired boy simply slouched further into his chair.

"...To maintain law in the village."

"And why exactly do we have to do that?"

A pause.

"Because if you didn't everything would be thrown into chaos."

Ayumu smiled. "I knew you were a smart one. As you know the Konoha Military Police Force was founded by Tobirama Senju and its authority handed to our clan as an act of good faith to maintain village relations...It is our honor to serve the village in this way."

Obito sighed. Everyone knew that.

Ayumu's voice turned chiding

"And you see, It becomes hard to maintain this duty when member's of our clan are running around destroying each other's property. These types of offenses reflect not only on the individual but the Uchiha clan as a whole. You do understand why it is important that we try to keep the Uchiha name from scrutiny, right?"

Because we have to work harder for the village's approval.

More grumbling.

"Obito?"

"Yes...I understand." A sigh. "But still, I don't understand him."

More talk about his teammate it seemed.

"Hn. Why?"

A roll of the eyes.

"Because everyone thinks he's so great." The boy's face betrayed disgust, or perhaps jealousy? "Oh Kakashi you're so amazing! Kakashi play ninja with us! Oh look it's Kakashi, the youngest academy graduate!" He snarled. "Everyone thinks just because he's a prodigy he knows everything, but he doesn't even know what it means to be a true ninja."

"Oh?"

"He doesn't have to work hard to get what he wants. And then he, he criticizes me for-" Obito paused, and contemplated something. His frown slowly changed into a grin. "You know what, it doesn't even matter. Sharingan or not I'm still going to beat him- and when I become Hokage, he'll be taking orders from me! You'll see old man!"

Old man?! He wasn't even 25 yet.

Ayumu deadpanned, that wasn't exactly the response what he was looking for.

Whatever. This was taking too long.

"Okay...well just..." For a moment he was speechless, attempting to process what the genin had said. He was getting mental whiplash from the boy's mood changes. "Just promise me you don't do something like this again okay? Because next time there will be much more severe consequences than sitting here with me."

A mock salute in his direction.

"Yes sir."

It wasn't that convincing, but it'd do.

"Good. I'm going to let your sensei know that we've talked. Just get back to the academy," he cast a cursory glance down at the young Uchiha's records "...and don't be late." A brief look at his standard-issue field watch.

"You have 2 minutes."

Obito promptly jumped out of the chair and raced down the hall.

Ugh, this job was already giving him a headache.

When he finally left the room, Ayumu glanced up and saw Fugaku running towards him, a concerned expression on his face.

Damn, how bad had that Hyuga meeting gone? Their cases were always a nightmare with the added main house-branch house dynamic which required them to deal with each problem differently depending on the statuses of the parties in question- but after years of responsibility, the Force had adopted methods to help navigate these situations. Maybe there was more urgent work that needed to be done? Maybe he could help?

"I just got done with the Team Minato Case. I'll have my report done in-"

Before he could finish, Fugaku uttered six words that would change the course of his life.

"It's your wife. The baby is coming."

He didn't need to be told where to go

BEEP...BEEP...BEEP...

"Her blood pressure is dropping rapidly!"

"-I can't get a read on her chakra- enter the protocol for acute chakra depletion stat!"

"Somebody call a Hyuga!"

Something was wrong.

At first, it was a dull throb in the back of her subconscious, something annoying and hard to ignore, that went from a small confusing inconvenience to a rapid expansion of anxiety.

"Masa please don't give up on me. Please. Fight"

BEEP...BEEP...

Alarm bells screamed in her mind.

Something was trying to get in.

She wasn't awake, but her soul was, and it was terrified with only one emotion coloring the spiritual plain. It was primal fear, one that hadn't needed any explanation or provocation- it was just there- all-encompassing and too palpable.

"I see the head! PUSH!"

"There's too much blood!"

BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP

She was choking on it, her consciousness screamed at its invasion- the pressure was too strong. There seemed to be a struggle amongst it all, although the forces at play were a mystery. The players in this game, whatever it was fought furiously against one another until something slipped and the floodgates opened.

And then, it was just over...for only a moment.

People say that before a Tsunami reaches its destination, the ocean is unnaturally calm; that the waters recede almost deceitfully and goad unfortunate people into a false sense of security. That is, until the waves return, too fast and intense to escape, and trap everything in its path.

This was a tsunami, but not of water.

Light. Blinding, brilliant light exploded in the recesses of consciousness. Whatever had invaded had succeeded in its journey and settled like nuclear fallout in every atom of her being.

It was transforming her, and she couldn't fight it.

Later, much later she had learned that was the moment that Chakra had entered her body, or more specifically, her soul. Of course, it was years before she even knew what chakra was, but, the tumultuous introduction to this world was only but a prelude to the chaos she'd eventually witness.

If anything, that was the easy part.

Her first true moments of reality went like this:

Crying. Frustration. Confusion. Discomfort. Pain.

"It's a girl!"

Crying. Someone was crying.

Who was crying? Was it her?

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

Flatline.

"Masa, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no."

"Doctor, call it."

"Ayumu...your eyes..."

"NO!"

The first thing she saw was red.

~oOo~

Dramatic ikr.