"If I'm honest, I loved him far more than I had the right to."


The air tasted like ocean brine and cigarette smoke. The sky was dark, crowded with large, looming storm clouds. On the side of a hulking metal bridge, a woman in a white lab coat overlooked the roiling seas. There was a small spark of light hovering in front of her face, and as she exhaled, smoke floated upward from between her lips. She was standing in the middle of a puddle, the sidewalk and road were soaked from the rainstorms only an hour before.

A seagull flew by, landing on the railing of the bridge. The woman's eyes flicked over, and she breathed out smoke again, watching the bird preen its feathers. Suddenly, a loud beeping sound disturbed the low, soothing sounds of waves hitting the bridge. The woman glared at her pocket, knowing it was her pager. Turning on her heel sharply, she stalked towards the hospital, splashing water with every step. She refused to rush anywhere. She was on break after all, wasn't the staff competent enough not to interrupt her fifteen minute smoke-break at least once this week?

Tires screeched on the wet road. The woman turned, eyes wide, to catch the bright, burning headlights of a truck out of control, hydroplaning across the cramped surface of the bridge right towards her. Clenching her jaw, she barely had the time to hiss out the word, "Fuck!" before the gigantic metal vehicle slammed into her.

Christine Kent, medical genius, flew over the rails of Marlene Bridge, limply landing in the ocean. Her body would be found two days later, and she'd be pronounced dead on impact.

There would be no-one but the priest and her surgical team at the funeral.

: : :

Mina Harumi was a mess. After both her parents died on the frontlines of the Third Shinobi War — they couldn't bring the bodies home, all she got was a measly letter — her life fell apart. She had a part-time job as a waitress, but that didn't make nearly enough money to pay the mortgage for her old family home. At sixteen years old, Mina was forced to sell her home and move into the low-grade housing sector, selling everything she owned with the exception of a few precious items.

Shortly after the move, she lost her job. Her employer said she was too moody, rude to clients, and before she could return to work Mina needed to get her head on straight. Mina didn't have the heart to say that her life was in shambles, how the hell was she supposed to pull herself together all alone-?! Her parents life-insurance was meager, but enough to scrape by as long as Mina skipped a few meals. Grieving and angry, Mina spiraled into a depression.

The first time she decided go out partying, she was just tired of staring at the blank walls of her bedroom. The pouding music from next door roused her from her bed, and in a moment of inspiration she climbed to her feet, pulled on her only dress and stumbled next door. The alcohol lulled her into a pleasant numbness, and the man who came home with her brought with him a euphoric buzz. The next morning, Mina puked her guts up into her toilet, and with a heavy hangover, resolved to repeat it all again.

Fast-forward six months and Mina was sitting on her cold, unforgiving bathroom floor, staring at the positive pregnancy test in her hands with horror. Her world spun to a halt, and suddenly the headache splitting her skull wasn't so comforting. She was pregnant. There was a little girl or little boy inside her and — she couldn't be a good parent, she couldn't even take care of herself, much less a kid! What kind of person deserved her as a mother?

Her brows furrowed. Deserved. Did the world care about what people deserved? She hadn't thought she deserved becoming an orphan, barely making ends meet and drinking her sorrows away. Who gave a shit about her? No-one cared about Mina or her problems… yet maybe… maybe this kid could.

Mina's hand lingered on her stomach. It was too early for their really to be any physical signs, but for a moment, she imagined the child inside her. They were innocent, and it was Mina's choice whether they could have the life they deserved. Mina could love them, if she gave them a chance, and they could love her. Give them a good life. It would require a lot of work on her part. Mina would need to get a job again, probably move somewhere safer. She'd need to learn how to take care of an infant, and stop going to parties and drinking altogether. Could she do that?

The hand pressed against her belly clenched into a fist. Mina would have to try, at least. This was her chance to prove she was deserving of a family, after all. She wouldn't allow herself to mess up again. Sitting on her bathroom floor, heart in her throat and fists clenched, Mina promised the life within her that she would give them her best. She would love her child no matter what.

(In the years to come, that oath would linger in her mind. Unconditional love is a lot to promise. If she'd been told that day who her baby would become, Mina Harumi would've scheduled an abortion immediately. As it was, she only rubbed circles on her flat stomach and dreamed of a better life.)

Nine months later, Naho Harumi was born a late summer's eve in Konoha Hospital. Mina sighed as her baby was laid in her arms, black hair plastered to her sweaty forehead and blue eyes half-lidded in exhaustion. Pressing a kiss to her daughter's nose, she clutched the infant to her chest and wept with joy.

: : :

Naho Harumi was a peculiar child. It wasn't the kind of peculiar you'd expect either - staring off into space with a dreamy look in her eyes, or talking to an imaginary friend - but the kind of peculiar that sends a chill up your spine. The kind of unsettling feeling that sets in when a small child stares at you calculatingly, her eyes just barely glinting red. The kind of strange sensation that makes goosebumps rise on your skin as when you realize that a baby had just thrown a rock at you a little too hard to be innocuous, and then smiled with a suspicious edge when they saw the bruise on your cheek the next day.

For her part, Mina Harumi noticed none of these signs. In Mina's eyes, Naho was an angel. Her baby was so well-behaved! Mina didn't understand why so many people had cautioned when she was pregnant about sleepless nights and messy diapers, having to handle constant crying and vomiting and more. Naho was nothing like that! She slept through the night, the loudest she sound she ever made was a happy gurgle when she got something she wanted, and she was already crawling on her own! Mina had a sweet little genius for a baby, and she doted on her as such.

(In reality, Naho Harumi was just very lucky to have been born to a first-time mother, or Christine Kent would've been discovered much, much sooner.)

Still, although Mina absolutely loved her baby, she wasn't an idiot either, and sometimes the signs were a little too much. When Naho was five months old, Mina started taking her baby on walks. She would cradle her precious child in her arms and walk her through the various gardens and recreational parks Konohagakure was decorated with. She would point at different birds, plants, and objects and tell Naho their names. She would cuddle her and cradle her and Naho would gurgle back depending on how much she liked the new things she was handed (She had a very strong opinion on dolls, and when Mina handed her one she'd thrown it on the ground and spit on it. Naho was only ever given a doll once.)

Two months into their weekly walks, Mina had stopped in front of a white-rose bush. Leaning down with Naho sitting in her arms, she pointed at one of the blooms. "See this, Naho-chan? This is a rose, a white rose. Isn't it pretty, Naho-chan?" she said, brushing her fingers along the soft, velvetine petals. As most children were wont to do, Naho immediately copied her mother, except she grabbed the thorny stem in her pudgy fist instead. The baby then narrowed her eyes and ripped her now bleeding palm away. Mina gasped, automatically cupping Naho's hand in her own to examine the injury. When she had determined the scratch was only minor, she kissed the tiny wound and glanced down at Naho with a over-dramatized frown. "You shouldn't touch the rose bushes, Naho-chan," she scolded, before making a show of reaching down and lightly touching one of the thorns. "Owie."

Naho stared at her bleeding palm, utterly unperturbed. She seemed almost amused by the injury, and for a moment Mina felt the eerie chill her friends had described when interacting with her daughter. Then, Naho lifted up her tiny palm, blood smeared between her fingers. "Mom," she said. "It's red."

Mina stared at her daughter with wide eyes for a long moment, stunned. 'Mom, it's red.' Had she misheard? Had her daughter truly just spoken her first words? Naho couldn't even crawl quite yet, she wasn't half a year old! To hide her nervousness, Mina smiled shakily, and nodded. "That's right, Naho-chan," she said finally. "Good job." With a trembling hand, she pointed towards the roses, hoping that what she'd heard had just been a fluke. "Naho-chan, can you tell me what color those flowers are?" she requested, tension rising in the air.

"Those are white roses," Naho answered promptly, looking from the flowers to her mother's face. She huffed grumpily, crossing her arms. "That was too easy, Mom," she said. "I want a more challenging question."

"R-right," Mina said, unable to hide her anxiety. Suddenly, the baby in her arms felt like an alien. An unearthly creature cloaked in her child's skin. Naho had spoken, properly and coherently, at five months old. Mina knew her child was special, but this wasn't natural. In that moment, Mina felt a million miles away from her baby, who was clearly so unique and beyond her. Rebelliously, Mina clutched Naho closer to her chest, pressing her face into her daughter's brunette curls and pressing kisses along the crown of her head. She tried to keep her hands from shaking.

What did the world have in store for her baby?

: : :

Naho Harumi hated everything. Splayed out on a blanket in the middle of her new mother's tiny-ass apartment, she glared at the ceiling fan in abject detestation. Her weak, infantile legs flailed helplessly as she struggled to roll over. How could existing be so frustrating? Before she was shoved into this stupid body, she had never sympathized with small children (or anyone, really), but as Naho she gained a whole new understanding. Learning how to walk, even when you knew all the theory and had practice, was damn near impossible. Throwing all of her body weight into her hundredth attempt at rolling over, Naho finally managed to flip onto her stomach. Letting out a relieved puff, she narrowed her eyes on the potted plant across the room. She loathed that plant. She hated the goddamn blanket she was on, abhorred the stupid chair that mocked her with its height, and held special enmity for the bookshelf, which lay far across the room and was full of books she couldn't read.

Letting her rancor with the world fill her with determination to take her first steps, Naho planted her hands flat on the ground and struggled onto her knees. She knew that learning how to crawl would be easier, but damn if crawling wasn't undignified. She wouldn't resort to such desperate measures (although admittedly, she was getting pretty desperate). When Naho had finally assumed a suitable fetal position, she extended her arms and attempted to balance on at least one foot. She managed to kneel upright for about 0.2 seconds before flopping over sideways.

Naho let out a very undignified screech of anger. Fuck her stupid little feet! Why was she in such a silly, weak, tiny body?! She was going to-

"Naho-chan?" A new voice cut in, and Naho paused her screaming. Mina was poking her head out of her bedroom, expression drawn tight in panic. Unwillingly, Naho felt guilt rise in her chest. She hated everything in the world right now, but admittedly she cut her new mother some slack. Well, all the slack really. She hadn't had any parents in her last "go around", but she could tell that Mina was trying her best. The young woman admittedly bumbled around a lot, but even if Naho execrated everything, she resented Mina the least.

"I'm fine, Mom," Naho called, voice raspy from her screaming. Mina stared at her daughter in disbelief, having very clearly just heard her child yelling into the floor with rage.

Mina walked over and kneeled next to her baby, rolling her onto her back. Immediately seeing the red marks on Naho's cheek, she sighed. "Were you trying to walk again?" she asked tiredly, already knowing the answer.

"Yes," Naho said bluntly. "And I still can't. And it's awful." Naho had not been a very good liar in her last life, and she wasn't going to waste effort learning how this time either. In her most sincere opinion, Naho felt everyone should just speak the fuck up and get the facts out of the way; it made everyone's lives easier. After two decades of working in a hospital, she'd learned that the hard way from a series of uncooperative patients who did or almost died.

Mina looked to the ceiling exasperatedly. "What were you trying to get?" she asked, having already debated with her daughter on the merits of crawling many times before. After their park-adventure, where Naho had spontaneously started speaking, Mina had found out that her baby had many, many strong opinions on a plethora of topics. Sometimes, with the silly things, it was easier not to argue.

Naho pointed at the bookshelf crossly. "I want to… to…" she paused, unable to remember the word she need. Her expression steadily darkened into a thunderstorm with every moment the verb evaded her.

"To read," Mina finished, smiling softly in amusement. "Fair enough, I'll grab a book and we can read together for a bit." Naho nodded, looking away and crossing her arms snootily as if that wasn't what she had wanted. Covering her mouth to muffle her giggles at her daughter's adorable grumpiness, Mina grabbed a book on foreign politics from amongst similar titles on shogi strategy and chakra system anatomy. She'd already learned her daughter abhorred baby-books and would attempt to make bonfires out of them if handed any (Naho hadn't gotten farther than stacking them up and squirming towards the oven with them, but the message got across regardless). "Kratocracy in Kumogakure sound good?" she questioned, having long grown used to such strange conversations with her daughter.

(By contrast, Naho was sometimes still taken aback by the casual references to things that had once been fiction to her as Christine, but she no longer attempted to backflip or asphyxiate every time someone mentioned "ninja" or "Konoha". Again, Naho was very lucky Mina was a first time mother, because most adults wouldn't have encouraged their one-year olds to read historical-political commentaries on foreign powers.)

Naho sniffed. "Acceptable," she conceded, attempting to push herself up into a sitting position. Mina smiled and sat down, easily lifting the struggling Naho into her lap. Picking up the heavy tome, Mina laid it on Naho's legs as she settled in against her mother's chest, wiggling a bit to get comfortable. Mina flipped open the book, and rolled her eyes at the already mind-numbing looking text. It was a bit disconcerting to admit, but Naho had actually expanded Mina's library with her eclectic tastes. "Alright, let's start with the first chapter… When Kumogakure was first founded, it was established by a few scattered families adapted to surviving solitarily within the mountains. They were surrounded by natural defenses…"

: : :

Mina was a single mother with an baby and no immediate family or close friends to help. This meant that, on occasion, she needed to bring her child with her to work. Normally, this would be an issue, but Mina had discovered early on that if she left Naho in the back with a blanket and a few books, her daughter could entertain herself for several hours. Naho had a fascination with learning to read that Mina couldn't sate. Mina always felt nervous about letting her daughter leave her sight, but felt slightly pathetic when her child seemed much less concerned. She felt like a dog with separation anxiety, instead of a mother with young child. Fortunately, her coworkers were fairly understanding. Usually, whenever one of them had breaks, they'd sit in the back with Naho, even though the child "gave them the creeps."

Still, every once in awhile, when her mother was distracted and none of the other employees were around, Naho would be all by herself. In these times, Naho would do what any self-respecting one year-old would do if they could walk (albeit shakily): get up and leave the back to go explore. Naho found that she didn't particularly like the alley behind the restaurant because it was too dirty and smelly, but the street connected to it was fair game. Bustling with people and vendors, Naho had found an express path to the Konoha Market, and she didn't need anyone's help to get there.

During one of her many escapades, where Naho quickly toddled out the alley to go explore the various vendors and shop-fronts, she ran into a problem. This problem wore goggles and went by the name of Obito Uchiha. And when she said "ran into", she meant it quite literally. After trying and failing to get her hands on one of the many free samples at the melon stand, Naho had spun around and flounced right into the other child, and since she weighed much less, fell right on her ass.

"Woah!" Obito shouted, spinning around to see the child he'd knocked over. His eyes widened, and he dropped down to his knees, spewing apologies as he tried to help her back up. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there since you're so small, are you okay? I hope you're okay, it really was an accident-"

"I'm fine," Naho growled, waving his hands away and crawling back up onto her feet. She glared at him. "You should watch where you're going, anyways, you - you-" She cut off, realizing her vocabulary had not yet expanded to include cuss words. Sadly, Mina was very good at not cursing around her daughter.

Obito bowed his head, looking defeated. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, appearing terribly guilty.

"You should be," Naho said, taking the time to examine the defeated future-enemy-of-the-world. He didn't look very impressive. Obito's eyes watered, and something in her caved. She could afford to be a little nicer, she supposed. "So, why are you running around knocking over babies?"

The older boy's shoulder slumped down further. "I'm on the way to school, but I'm kind of in a rush 'cause I'm late-" Obito gasped, straightening up, wild look in his eyes. "Shit! I'm late! Sorrygottagobye!" he rushed out, vanishing in a blur. Naho blinked once, and then a satisfied smirk spread across her face. Shit, hm?

And so, Naho learned her first cuss word. Rather happy with herself, she swaggered back towards the restaurant, resolving to return tomorrow and try to get knocked over again. Apparently that was a good way to learn new words. And besides, she could satisfy her curiosity about the boy-who-would-one-day-war-with-the-world.

: : :

BAM! This time, Naho intentionally fell on her ass. It was two days after the first Obito-collision incident, and Naho had been waiting for the boy to run late again, wandering around the market in search of a child to knock her over. Slamming into the ground, Naho tried to avoid smirking at her success.

Obito spun around, mouth open to apologize, but then his eyes widened in shock. "IT'S YOU AGAIN!" he shouted, pointing a finger at Naho accusingly.

"We meet once more, baby-trampler," Naho responded dryly, holding out her hand as if their intersection hadn't been entirely orchestrated. When there was no immediate response, she added, "Are you going to help me up or just stare?"

Obito flushed, grabbing her hand and yanking her to her feet. Naho hid her wince at how hard he ripped her arm up, practically feeling her shoulder pop. Roughly setting Naho on her feet, Obito started to apologize. "I'm sorry for running into you again, you really are hard to spot though, I won't let it happen agai-"

"It's fine," Naho said, waving her hand dismissively. "But if you're really sorry, why don't you buy me a snack?" She pointed at the melon stand she'd been unable to get food from two days ago.

Obito glanced at her nervously, fidgeting. "I really am sorry but I'm super late and-"

"The Academy started three hours ago," Naho interrupted, having gleaned the information from one of her mother's coworkers the day before. She was going to have conversation with this kid, damnit. "Do you really think taking five minutes to buy a kid a snack is going to make a big difference by now?"

Obito laughed, refusing to make eye contact. "I guess not," he said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "So, you want a melon?" he asked, walking over towards the stand and getting in line.

"Just a slice would be good," Naho answered, trailing after him. Her neck was starting to hurt from looking up constantly. When Obito said nothing else, Naho decided to carry the conversation forward. "So, you're going to the Military Academy, right? Do you want to become a ninja?"

Obito pumped his fist, grinning. "Hell yeah!" he cheered. "The best! I'm gonna be Hokage one day, just you wait!"

Unlikely, Naho thought remembering a childhood spent watching anime. "That's cool," she said. "But don't tons of people want to become Hokage? What makes you… special?" Naho frowned, the sentences she wanted taking a little too long to form. Why couldn't everyone just speak English and make her life easier?

Obito pointed at himself confidently. "I'm gonna work hard to earn the hat, of course!" he said. "Plus, I'm an Uchiha!"

"That does give you an advantage," Naho allowed, shrugging. "But, why?"

Obito frowned in confusion. "Why what?"

"Why do you want to become Hokage?" Naho clarified, looking at Obito as if he were stupid. The position entailed more paperwork than any boy his age should be willing to subscribe to… but then again, maybe he was just clueless. Actually, that was the most plausible answer.

"Because being a Hokage means you're awesome!" Obito enthused, eyes shining. He held up his clenched fists, miming a punch at the air. "And I'm going to be the awesomest ninja there ever was! And everybody's is going to remember me forever!" he declared with determination.

Naho blinked slowly, and then her eyes widened. 'Everyone will remember me forever.' In her old world, who remembered Christine Kent? Her surgical staff might, but they would forget her in a year or so. No one gave a damn when "Dr. Kent" died; was she willing to relive that dull, empty pain of a nameless death, without ever leaving any legacy behind? Was she willing to die and be forgotten again?

Absolutely not.

"That's a good reason," Naho agreed, a savagely pleased grin spreading across her lips. Then, she noticed they were at the front of the line. She pointed up at the face of the impatient melon-seller. "You going to get me my melon now?" she asked.

Obito jumped. "Right!" he agreed, stepping forward. Shoving his hand into his pocket, he rattled around for some change. He came up with a handful of silver coins, and dropped them on the counter.

The seller stared at him blandly. "That's enough for two slices of melon," he stated monotonously. "Would you like two slices of melon?"

Well, someone hates his job, Naho thought snarkily, lips curling into a sneer. If she owned the stand she'd have fired him on the spot. Nothing like a sour employee to scare off customers.

"Sure thing!" Obito agreed cheerily, grinning. The seller stared at him for a long moment, before sweeping the coins into a bin below the counter and turning to slowly grab two napkins to wrap the melon slices. Naho decided then he was the dullest knife on the street. As soon as the boring employee handed over the food, Obito took it and hurried off to an open picnic table across the street. Naho hurried after him, tripping once in her efforts to keep up. When Obito laid out the food and sat down on one of the benches, he stared admiringly at the shiny, ripe melon. "Wow, this looks good!" he celebrated, taking a big bite.

"I would agree," a high-pitched voice said sarcastically. "But I'm afraid I can't see shit."

Obito's eyes slowly slid downward to the child standing at his feet, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Oh, sorry," he apologized, juice smeared across his lips. "You can't get up here on your own, can you?"

"No shit, Sherlock," Naho hissed, smoke practically pouring from her ears. She was hungry, damnit!

"Right, let me help you up," Obito said obligingly, wrapping his hands under Naho's arms and lifting her onto the bench beside him. "Who's 'Shirrock'?" he asked curiously, handing her the second melon slice.

Naho took it happily, grinning at the fruit in satisfaction. "No one you need to know about," she answered dismissively, before biting into her melon. She suppressed a whimper as the sweet fruit lit up her tongue. Her mother couldn't afford to buy her things like fresh fruit or sweets, so this was practically a delicacy to her. Licking the juice off her lips, Naho closed her eyes and enjoyed the summer breeze ruffling her hair. "This is the shit," Naho said contently.

Obito gasped. "Wait, when did you start cursing?!" he said. "Where did you learn those words?! You shouldn't say those you know, they're bad," he emphasized, as if Naho cared.

"I've cussed multiple times in the past minute and a half," Naho pointed out, staring at Obito dully. "And I learned them from you."

"Oh," Obito said. There was an awkward pause. "... Well, you still shouldn't use them."

Naho inhaled deeply. "Do you think I give a shi-" she heard a rather familiar scream of her name nearby. Her mouth clamped shut instantly. Her eyes widened fearfully; the melon in her hands dripped juices as her tiny hands crushed it. Obito scanned her concernedly, but then noticed the woman in an apron storming towards them from over Naho's shoulder. He barely had time to react before Mina Harumi was sweeping her baby up into her arms, raining kisses and concerned questions.

"Ohmygoodnessyou'reokayohthankgod," - inhale - "don'tyoueverdothattomeagainyouhearme?" - inhale - "ifyouleavetherestaurantagainwithoutmypermissionwewillhaveaseriousdiscussionyounglady!" Mina took another deep breath, planted a kiss in her daughter's hair, and then pressed their foreheads together, staring deeply into Naho's eyes. "Do. You. Under. Stand. Me?" she enunciated carefully.

Naho noted her mother's teary blue eyes. "Yes," she said meekly.

"Good," Mina said, kissing both her daughter's cheeks. She then noticed the melon Naho was clutching to her chest, marking her shirt and Mina's apron with orange juice. "How did you get that?" she asked, finally starting to calm down.

Naho instantly calculated several avenues of conversation before arriving at the best possible scenario. Time for damage control. Smiling innocently, Naho chirped, "I made a new friend, Mom!" Behind Mina's back, Obito blanched.

Mina bit her lip worriedly. "A friend?" she repeated. "And where is this friend?" she inquired, wondering who her daughter was referring too. Mina had plenty of concerns about whatever stranger Naho met in the market by herself.

"Behind you," Naho said, leaning over Mina's shoulder to point at Obito, who looked positively terrified. Mina spun around instantly, and Naho cheerfully added, "He bought me some melon and talked to me about his school. He said he wants to become Hokage!" Obito's eyes flickered between glancing at Mina in horror and staring at Naho suspiciously. The little brat's speech patterns had changed entirely!

"I see," Mina said ominously, and Obito gulped. "And who are you, Naho's new friend?" she demanded.

Obito decided the best course of action was to do as his grandmother always told him if he upset an adult: be respectful, use your manners, and apologize profusely. Standing up from the best, he bowed in half, arms at his sides. "My name is Obito Uchiha, ma'am!" he introduced. "I'm sorry for speaking with your daughter; I hadn't realized she wasn't allowed out alone!"

Mina, despite herself, was charmed. "It's alright," she said soothingly. "Thank you for your honesty, Obito." Obito straightened nervously, fidgeting in his place. Mina smiled, trying to reassure the boy she wasn't angry. "My name's Mina Harumi, I'm Naho's mother."

Obito stared at Mina with wide eyes. "B-but you look so young!" he protested impulsively, before his eyes widened and he bowed down again. "I'm sorry for insinuating-"

"It's okay, it's okay!" Mina laughed, eyes twinkling. "If anything, that's a compliment," she said, and Obito flushed, scratching the back of his head. Mina looked between this polite young boy and her adorable daughter thoughtfully. "So, you're Naho's new friend? How old are you, Obito?"

"I'm eight years old, ma'am," Obito answered immediately.

Mina bit her lip, unable to stop herself from worrying. She knew in her heart that Naho would probably never be a normal child, but for her first friend to be seven years older than her? Then again, if Naho attempted to speak with any of her peers, Mina could see her daughter throwing her first ever temper tantrum. She sighed mentally, realizing this was probably the best situation possible. "I see," she said. "And you're okay with Naho only being one?"

Obito's eyes widened in shock. "She's that young?!" he gasped. Naho waved at him appreciatively, smirking in amusement.

"Yes," Mina said. She glanced again between Obito and Naho. "Well… It's good that Naho has a friend. Unfortunately," she paused to glare at her daughter, who was immediately cowed. "Naho is not supposed to be wandering around on her own. Would you be okay with scheduling a time and place for you both to meet up?"

"Sure!" Obito agreed immediately, and then realized what he said. It was too late to turn back. "Uh, the Academy ends at 3 pm, but I'm probably going to get in trouble for being late… would Sakura Park at 4:30 pm work?" Internally, he cursed his impulsivity. He'd just given away some of his time with Rin-chan!

Mina smiled gratefully. "That would be perfect," she said. "Thank you, Obito, sorry for interrupting your afternoon." She bowed her head, unable to properly bow while holding her daughter. "Now if you'll excuse Naho and I, I need to return to work." Mina turned around and started walking back towards the restaurant.

Naho peeked over her shoulder to wave at Obito as he grew farther and farther away, before pressing her face into her mother's neck and smirking. That had gone better than she'd thought it would. Obito was right: she was going to be remembered this time around, for sure. This time, Naho Harumi would be a name the whole damn country would know.

"Now then young lady," Mina's voice interrupted Naho's thoughts, her tone downright ominous. Naho felt a drop of sweat slide down the back of her neck. "What should your punishment be for sneaking out of the restaurant without my permission?"

Okay, Naho surrendered grudgingly. Maybe I could have planned this out better.


A/N And so begins the official (and hopefully final) rewrite of this story! I'm really looking forward to this, and I'll try to have an update schedule worked out soon.