Prologue

Ayumu. It was an odd name to choose for a girl, but the mother had been determined. The medic-nin supposed that it did fit the odd child. An infant with a strangely dreamy dazed expression. The poor little thing had been born premature and had been in the hospital for some four months now under her charge. It was only through the grace of the gods and the techniques Tsunade had passed down that Ayumu had survived her birth.

Ayumu was much stronger now having been moved in with the other infants now that she didn't need any special techniques to help her breath. The medic-nin had become fond of the child. Ayumu had fought hard for her survival and it had left the woman rooting for the small child. She was perhaps a little more attached than she should be, but decided it wouldn't hurt anyone, especially not, Ayumu to be on the receiving end of an extra dose of affection during her difficult start.

Soon though her little charge would disappear returning home in the arms of her relieved parents. It was a bittersweet thought to the medic-nin. Going home meant that Ayumu was finally healthy, but it also meant losing the tiny charge that had been a constant in her life the past three months.

The medic-nin realized with a surge of surprise that she might actually be pouting.

Shaking her head at the thought of pouting at her age, she finally left the door from which she'd been watching over her charge to approach the child. The other children in the room were either asleep or squirming around unused to the world. Only Ayumu, much too little Ayumu, remained silent and still, looking but not really seeing anything. It had been a concern at first the quiet, but test hadn't revealed any defects beyond her underdeveloped lungs. She wasn't deaf or mute, just a very quiet child.

The distant look faded away as the medic-nin's shadow fell over the baby and the blue eyes focused on her with a placid, content sort of expression. There was a hint of recognition in her small face that was a good sign. They'd been worried about how her early birth would affect her cognitive development, but she had clearly grasped the idea of object permanence. A little early to be truthful. It was definitely a good sign.

"This'll be the last time I tell you good-night." the medic-nin informed Ayumu in a sad whisper. It was true some time tomorrow the parents would come to relieve her of her little charge.

Although the medic-nin was sure that there was no way that Ayumu could understand her, the child's face scrunched in almost confusion at the remark. It made the medic-nin smile. She'd enjoyed watching Ayumu develop and her personality come out. A part of child care she usually missed as the children were usually gone within the week.

"Your parents are coming to get you tomorrow Ayumu-kun." the medic-nin informed her. "They'll take good care of you. They'll have a room ready and no doubt toys and blankets and all sorts of things you haven't yet seen. They'll love you." She assured the little girl.

The medic-nin didn't doubt that fact. The young couple had visited whenever they were free trying the stay close to the ill child. The only thing that had kept them from visiting everyday was the need to work to keep their business afloat and the mother's own illness that had lingered after the unexpected early birth. They clearly already loved Ayumu and it made the medic-nin not happy, but content to release her little charge into the hands of the loud, but loving couple.

Her reassurances did not make Ayumu relax though if anything the confusion seemed to grow and she looked distressed. The medic-nin couldn't understand and quickly begin to make soothing noises, picking Ayumu up without thinking and cradling her gently as she tried to comfort the child. It hurt her heart to feel the child tucked against her. She'd been avoiding holding Ayumu as one last attempted barrier to protect her from becoming too attached. Holding her now simply reminded her that she'd have to give up the child soon enough and reminded her of an emptiness that had come into her life around the same time of the child's birth.

There would be no children for the medic-nin and her husband. The war had made sure of that with the fresh engraving on the memorial stone.

Ayumu snuggled close to the warmth as the medic-nin soothed her tears collecting in her own eyes. The idea of staying at the hospital had been becoming unbearable the past few months, but she knew after she gave away Ayumu to her real family tomorrow it truly would be impossible. Not when memories of blood on her hands would mix with a memory of another loss.

"I'm sorry Ayumu-kun." the medic-nin told her soft as a shadow. "I'll have to tell you goodbye now. Tomorrow we both leave here. Separately."

At that the small body began to shake as, for the first time since her birth and second life, Ayumu began to truly cry.

Ayumu knew exactly who the medic-nin had been in the Other Life, just as Ayumu knew who she herself had been in the Other Life, even if the medic-nin didn't remember. Ayumu did. And she remembered the last time the medic-nin had held her the medic-nin had been called "Mother" and had been the one in the hospital. That had been twenty years before Ayumu's death. That had been the last time Ayumu remembered having family.

So Ayumu cried to hear her mother say goodbye again.