Yay! Another overpowered SI OC! These types of fanfics really are the easiest to write. And they're my favorite to read, actually, so please don't judge. Names are in the Asian style, with family name first. And I've decided that making up a title is harder than writing the actual story...

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Naruto or Naruto Shippuden.

Chapter 1: Waking Up

OC's POV

I woke up to someone poking my face. "Ahhhh, stop it. Leave me alone," I managed to groan out.

The poking persisted, and I raised an arm to cover my face, groaning from the pain present in all the muscles I thought and didn't know I had. The poking then continued on an exposed part of my face.

"Stop it. If I wasn't so sore, I'd be kicking you in the face," I threatened. The poking continued, and I opened my eyes to see a boy with a funny haircut. "Go away."

"You're awake! Who are you? How did you get here? Are you a ninja?" He started jumping up and down excitedly.

"What?" My brain wasn't working. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and yawning. "Alright, chillax, kid. Where the heck am I?"

"You're in the forest."

I took in the trees surrounding us. "Ah." I took a closer look at the kid. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought I was in a dream and the kid was Senju Hashirama. But then again, I was feeling pain. You don't feel pain in dreams.

"Alright, kid, what forest, exactly?"

"This forest." He gestured grandly around him. I snorted and tried to sit up.

"Owww. What the heck happened? I feel like I got used as a punching bag." I sat up and looked around. I was in a pretty forest, next to a stream. Ah. The famous Hashirama-Madara stone-skipping stream.

"So?" He looked at me expectantly. It took me a bit to remember what he had asked me.

"I don't have a name, I have no idea how I got here, and no, I am not a ninja." After all, I did not have a name that he'd be able to pronounce if he really was the Hashirama.

"Then why were you holding this?" He held up a kunai.

"Huh? Really?" What in the world was I doing unconscious with a sharp object? "So, who are you?"

"I'm Hashirama."

"Ah. Uh, nice to meet you, Hashirama-san. Anyway, is there some way I could get a bath or something? I feel extremely sore and filthy."

"Sure! There's a stream right there!" He pointed over to stone-skipping stream.

I got up slowly and walked over to the stream. For some reason, I felt really, really short. With that foreboding feeling, I looked at my hands. They were really small. Then, I turned my attention to my body. I was flat. I was closer to the ground. I was a kid. I turned to look at Hashirama.

"Hey, how old do I look?"

"Ummm, probably like 3?"

And you don't find it strange in the slightest that my speaking style isn't that of a three-year-old? Though, I guess it comes with the time-period. "Huh. Got any spare clothes?"

"Um, I can go get some. Uhhh, if someone my age with black spiky hair and a frown on his face comes here, tell him that I'll be right back, okay? I'll be right back!" He disappeared, leaving me standing next to the stream.

I examined myself after he left. Unluckily, I was still a girl. I hate having the anatomy of a girl. This means that I have to go through puberty, again. In a world full of ninja. The first time, my younger sister had taken it upon herself to cause me as much pain as possible by hitting me in the chest non-stop. Of course, she was an ignorant little kid, so she didn't understand why I was in pain. And yes, I was a pushover pacifist. I didn't want to retaliate because I was afraid of injuring them, since I didn't know what I was capable of. I was bigger and stronger than them, but I wasn't about to find out how much I could hurt them.

I was pretty white. I mean, I had been tan before, so this was new. My hair was a long, white tangled mess, and I didn't have a brush, so I took the kunai that Hashirama had left and hacked at my hair. I basically made a ponytail with one hand and hacked off the hair between my hand and my head. I figured that I might as well masquerade as a boy in this place. As I was hacking at my hair, I began talking to myself.

"I have no idea where I am, how I got here, or what to do. My hair is white, I'm apparently three years old, and I don't have a name. What am I, a freaking orphan? For all I know, I'm going to end up being killed in the next week, and my pitiful existence will come to an end. Let's see, what do I like? Light, shiny things, color, happy people, pretty things, food. What do I not like? Pain, hurt, loud things, creeps, being sick. My hobbies? Music, I guess. Making up stories. Learning. My dream? Do I even have one? Maybe to survive. Surviving sounds good. Argh, what am I supposed to do? I'm antisocial, I don't know how to fight, I'm probably a coward, always running from things. Maybe I'm schizophrenic? Last time I checked, I'm squeamish at the sight of blood, and I have low pain tolerance, but that's only from pain caused by siblings. That's really weird. I wonder why they were the only ones who could cause me considerable pain?"

I was so focused on my pity party that I didn't notice someone sneak up behind me and grab me, putting a kunai to my throat.

Three guesses on who's holding the kunai. Please review. Danke. ~VM