Arata was not a pious man. He cursed the gods as easily as he drank, he drank as often as he gambled, and he gambled as recklessly as he sailed his reliable old fishing boat.

All the same, the proud, heavily-built, and near-constantly glowering fisherman found himself kneeling in front of an altar the moment his wife went into labor, his cracked hands clasped together in prayer and his face firmly facing the ground. It had rained recently—mud seeped into his bare knees and toes as he prayed, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Oh, esteemed kamis of fortune and childbirth! If you exist, please take pity on me," the fisherman muttered as solemnly as he could, sweat running down his tanned forehead. The sun's rays were harsh on his skin. "And if not me, at least show mercy to Kairi and our child—"

"ARATA! QUIT YOUR SHIT AND GET YOUR ASS INSIDE!"

Arata felt his eye twitch. Kizu, his neighbor, fellow fisherman, and closest friend had yelled at him from inside his own home. The shameless fucker had invited himself in as soon as he heard the news. He grit his teeth.

"FUCK OFF!" he yelled in reply. "I AIN'T STOPPING UNTIL IT'S OVER!"

"THEN BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU!"

Arata got up and ran.

Five minutes, several doors slammed open, and a good amount more yelling followed by furious hushing later, Arata knelt by the side of his wife's bed. The village midwife—what was her name again, maybe Ami? Well, she had already bid the couple farewell, her duty having come to a close. And so, the newly-grown family finally had some privacy for themselves.

"Look, dear…" Kairi whispered, clutching the towel-swaddled infant to her chest. The pale-faced woman looked at her husband with heavy-lidded eyes and a weak yet sincere smile. "Aren't these your eyes?"

Indeed, the child had calmed down shortly after being born and now stared blankly at her father, her eyes clearly carrying the same shade of deep gray as his own. Tears still dotted her fair-skinned face.

Arata snorted. "Maybe, but that sure is your hair," he replied, brushing his hand through the small tuft crowning his daughter's head. At a glance, her hair seemed to be purely dark brown, yet a closer inspection revealed it to be a faintly deep auburn. It perfectly matched his wife's long locks, which only displayed its true colors through bright sunlight or a closer look. He found himself surprised when the child suddenly grabbed onto his hand and giggled.

Kairi let out a soft laugh. "It seems like she's already fond of you."

Arata could only slowly smile wider in response. He watched his daughter cheerfully tug at his wrist. Her hand could barely fit around it, but she wore a sunny, satisfied smile all the same. It honestly amazed him. How was his little girl so energetic, despite having lived for only several minutes so far?

He could almost feel his heart melting.

The tender moment was almost immediately interrupted as Kizu, having slipped in unnoticed, shamelessly cleared his throat from the side of the room. "So," the lanky, lean-figured man began as Arata glared at him. "Got any ideas for a name?"

"Hmm…" Kairi furrowed her eyebrows in thought. "How about...Umiko?"

Arata turned his glare from Kizu to her. "Bit on the nose, isn't it? 'Child of the sea'?" he grumbled.

"To be fair, it was my grandmother's name...unless you have a better suggestion, beloved?"

The fisherman sighed. "No."

"Then her name will be Umiko."

Arata huffed.

"Well…" Kizu grinned, brushing his unkept hair from his face. "I think Umiko is a great name—"

"Drop dead, ass-kisser."

"Arata, not in front of our daughter!"

And now Kairi was mad at him again. Oh well. At least with Umiko born, it should be smooth sailing from here on out.

"PAPA, PAPA! LOOK AT ME!"

"UMIKO, GET DOWN FROM THERE OR YOU'RE GROUNDED FOR TWO WEEKS!"

It had been a terrible mistake for Arata to bring Umiko along with him to go fishing again. She had only just turned four years old, and yet here she was, already a little terror. How could the little brat have so much energy at the crack of dawn? How the hell did she manage to climb the foremast of his hacchoro in the minute that he turned his eyes away from her?!

"Relax, old man. She'll come down when we need her to." Kizu gleefully clapped his back before moving to untie the rigging holding down the boat's middle sail. Other crew members handled their tasks from opposite ends of the boat, preparing the triple-masted boat for departure. The sun steadily rose from the east, illuminating the waves and the wooden deck of his ship, as well as the empty dock that it was currently tied to. It was a beautiful morning.

"We're both thirty, idiot. And that isn't the point," he growled before returning his attention to his beaming toddler once more.

The little brat was actually giggling in the face of his anger, her short hair swaying in the breeze. "I'M TALLER THAN YOU NOW!" she announced triumphantly while hanging from the mast, the brightening sky serving as a vivid backdrop to her antics. Despite not being able to see her face clearly with the distance between them, Arata was sure that her eyes were twinkling with mischief, as they usually were when she pulled shit like this.

The broad-shouldered fisherman sighed as he fiddled with the compass in his pocket—even if he didn't really need one, being simply a fisherman, it was one of the first gifts Kairi had ever given to him. It reassured him, and so he never left anywhere without it. "She's going to hurt herself one day..." he mumbled to himself.

"I already told you to relax," Kizu said, releasing his hold on the ropes and letting the sail free before turning his attention to another set. The skinny fisherman smiled his ever-present grin as he worked. "That clever kid of yours can take care of herself with how quickly she's growin.'"

"That's true," Arata grudgingly admitted. Umiko soaked up information like a sponge. From learning to walk at as early as six months old, to speaking clumsy but full-on sentences at a year old, to even being able to read at two years of age, Umiko was a startlingly fast learner. An unsettlingly fast learner, in fact. It was the only reason why Arata was somewhat comfortable with bringing her along during their fishing trips, in spite of Umiko only being four years old. His daughter was almost unnaturally mature.

And then Umiko pulled crap like this from time to time, reminding him that his daughter, while gifted, was still very much a child.

"Ha!" Kizu exclaimed, jolting Arata out of his thoughts. "I think that's the last of it!"

"Sure is, boss!" a crewmember called out from the other side.

"Alright, then. UMIKO, GET DOWN! WE'RE SETTING SAIL!"

"OKAY!"

"Why does she listen to you more than me?" Arata grumbled even as he held his arms open in wait. As Umiko, with a cheery laugh on her lips, slid down the mast and jumped straight into her father's embrace, Arata still couldn't help but smile.

His good cheer continued as, throughout the rest of the trip, and despite running around the ship to study how each of his men fulfilled their seafaring duties, Umiko never strayed too far from his side.

Kairi carefully chopped the cabbage before adding it to the boiling pot on the stove. Growing children needed fresh vegetables to stay healthy, after all—and it wouldn't do for Umiko to lack a proper nutrition. She glanced out the window of their simple wooden home. The light was slowly fading. It would be time for dinner soon, and her husband and child should be returning home in roughly an hour.

Or now, she supposed, hearing the telltale thumping of scrambling footsteps before Umiko ran straight into the kitchen.

"Mamaaaaaaaa!" the four-year old girl yelled as she hugged her from behind.

Chuckling, Kairi set down her knife before affectionately rubbing her head. "Hello, little one. How was your day?"

The little girl beamed before hugging her tighter. "I saw a bunch of weird people!"

"Oh?" Kairi smiled indulgently. "What kind of weird people?"

"Magic weird people!"

She blinked. "Magic?"

"Yeah!" Umiko frowned, a somewhat puzzled expression appearing on her face. "They had metal headbands and stuff and they ran really funny but really fast! I saw some of them do magic tricks—like one started glowing for a bit then another breathed fire then another took out a scroll and there was a bunch of smoke and poof came out a bunch of stuff and one was even a little kid like me and I wanted to go talk to her but Uncle Kizu stopped me and said they were busy but I wanted to play since there's no other kids around here and I'm always bored and she looked sca—"

"Shh, slow down, dear," Kairi laughed. There was quite a lot to unpack in her daughter's ramblings. "You're speaking too quickly," she chided, returning some of her attention to her pot of soup.

"Okay, mama," Umiko shrugged as she watched her mother begin to slice some carrots. "But they were being all quick and mysterious-looking too—they only bought some food and then left on a boat right away! It was like they were in a hurry or something…" The girl frowned once more, scrunching her nose. "It's all really suspicious!"

"Hm..well, those 'magic weird people' you saw today were ninjas, little one."

Now Umiko blinked. "Ninjas?"

Kairi nodded, continuing her work. "Ninjas are people who...well, use 'magic' and other special skills to help the people of the country, as well as protect it from other ninja from other lands."

"Really? How come we never see them?"

"We don't usually ask them for their help over here in Kagayaku Village; we try to solve our problems on our own. Also, the group you saw today were probably ninjas from the only shinobi village of this land, Uzushiogakure. All shinobi who live in the Land of Whirlpools come from there."

"Oh, okay." Umiko scratched the back of her head. "I feel like I've heard this somewhere before…"

"Maybe in another one of your dreams, dear?" Kairi wouldn't be surprised.

"...is that bad, mama?"

"Of course not, although your mind seems to come up with strange ideas while you're asleep," Kairi teased. "What were your ideas for nation names again?"

"Hey! Don't make fun of them; they at least sound way better than what we've got right now!"

"America, Canada, Russia, China…" Kairi listed down what she remembered from one of Umiko's previous tirades.

Umiko pouted. "Well, 'Land of Whirlpools' is still a dumb name! It's like naming other stuff things like 'house on beach,' or 'beach of fishes!' It's all so obvious! Maybe you'd even name someone 'child of se—wait." Umiko's face froze. "...huh."

Kairi held in her laughter as well as she could. 'She really is her father's daughter,' she internally mused, before steeling herself and speaking once more. "Now," she said sternly. "What did I say before about using the word 'dumb'?"

"...it's a mean word."

"And?"

"I shouldn't use it." Umiko blushed and stared to the side. "Sorry, mama."

"It's okay, just don't do it again," she replied. "Now, could you help me set the table? The soup is almost done."

"Yuck, soup?!"

Kairi sighed as her daughter began to loudly rant about the horrors of soup, even as she dutifully reached for the utensils in their kitchen drawer and left for their small dining area. Now alone, the housewife was left to meditate on Umiko's previous words.

She was right about how strange her encounter was. It was well-known, even among the common citizens of the Land of Whirlpools, that the rare visible group of ninjas usually served as a diplomatic envoy to other nations. So why would an undisguised group of ninjas depart from a simple fishing village instead of one of the island's major harbors?

"So, the war's getting worse?" Kizu asked. The village's sole tavern was quiet at this time of the night, with most of its regulars having retired to bed already. He liked it that way. It gave the palm wood cabin's snug, already comfortable atmosphere a more homey feeling.

The bartender—Tetsu, a gruff but accommodating middle-aged fellow—nodded. He was a tall and thin man, though frailer than himself. Made sense, considering the differences between their jobs. "More and more ninja are pouring out of Uzushio like there's no tomorrow. Heard some talk about the enemies pushing on the Leaf's borders."

The lanky fisherman scowled, tightening his grip on his mug of beer. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to take a swig or chuck it across the room. "Wonderful," he muttered under his breath. "More skyrocketing prices."

"Heh, chin up," Tetsu replied, polishing a glass. "The village'll get through this, like it always does. We're used to war."

"Sayin' that like it's a good thing…" Kizu snorted as he scratched at his side. "Well, thanks, I guess."

"No problem. A pessimistic guy like you needs a pick me up now and then, it's fine." Tetsu grinned. "Say, how bout' another—"

"Nah," Kizu interjected, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "Gotta save my ryo, after all. Nice try."

The skinny bartender just laughed. Asshole. Well, if the guy was feeling so helpful…

"Say," he said, propping his head up with his arm. "You wouldn't happen to know about any decent sleeping meds, would ya?"

Tetsu smirked. "Well, a good drink—"

"For kids."

Kizu snickered as the bartender frowned. "I'm serious, okay?" he said before Tetsu could start telling him off. "Arata and Kairi's kid has been havin' a hard time getting sleep. Something about gettin' nightmares all the time."

Tetsu's expression eased into one of contemplation. "Wasn't their kid always a bit of a dreamer, though?"

"Oh, yeah—even til' now. I swear, Umiko comes up with the weirdest shit. I'm honestly getting kinda worried, she's never complained about nightmares before…"

"You sure you bunch aren't just overreacting?"

"She hasn't gotten a proper wink of sleep for two weeks straight."

Tetsu breathed in quickly, setting down his glass and his polishing rag. "Damn."

"Yeah. Kid's looking like a zombie all the time, I swear. Kairi's at her wit's end, and Arata won't stop staring into the distance like some kind of shinobi war vet during our trips."

"Hm…" The bartender scratched at his graying beard. "Well, I'll ask my wife if she still has some of her poppy draught left in her stock. If she doesn't, just give her a few days to prepare some and we'll have a new batch ready. It's usually used as a painkiller, but I think it should ease the kid's sleep just fine."

Kizu let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, pal. How much ryo do I owe you?"

The bartender waved his hand. "Eh, this'll be on the house. You spend enough on my liquor, anyway."

"Tch, I don't drink that much..."

It was pitch black in the classroom—Lynn couldn't see shit. Good, hopefully that meant the other assholes couldn't see her in here either.

The eleven-year old sighed at herself. She knew it was a terrible idea to piss them off again, especially so soon after last time. But for fuck's sake, you'd think that a typical bunch of morons would find new material after a few weeks—seriously, trying to pick on her for being a bloody "chink" again and again? She wasn't even Chinese in the first place!

...not that their name-calling hadn't worked or anything.

Still, punching a guy in the face right in front of his minions and bolting wasn't a very good idea, even though she thought her innocent comment about the size of his brain compared to that of his dick was pretty clever even if the dumb fuck didn't get it. Especially a guy who didn't care about sexist stuff like "guys shouldn't hit girls" or anything. God, she hated public schools.

A light clicked on—damn it, she got caught up in her thoughts again! At least there was a chance it wasn't Jake and his cronies…

"Heh, so that's where you were hiding, chink."

Welp. Lynn sighed and got up, defensively raising her fists as she turned to face her leering opponents. Man, she wished Kay and the others were here to back her up, she didn't think she could just snark out of this one...and shit, she was going to end up in detention with these losers again!

Umiko opened her eyes. The sun shone brightly from her room's window, its rays getting in her eyes and forcing her to blink. The girl exhaled in relief. It seemed like Uncle Kizu's medicine worked. Well, it didn't get her dreams to stop, but it got her to sleep for the whole night without any nightmares whatsoever! She was finally free from evil giant foxes, creepy red spinning eyes or worse, the hospital, day after day; she wasted away slowly while her family and friends helplessly watched, that slowly gave way to red—

The five-year old shook her head and got up from her futon. Judging from the voices she heard from outside her room, her parents were already awake. She must've overslept—usually she was the first to get up in the morning. But why didn't they wake her u—

Dad chuckled, pushing up his rimmed glasses. "Your body needs its rest, especially since you've been up so late and working so hard. Make sure you sleep more to make up for it after this week, okay?"

—p? Right, since she hadn't been sleeping well recently, she needed to get more rest to make up for it. Dream her sure knew a lot of smart people, even if she was kinda mean!

Umiko left her room and made her way to her house's dining room (or little guest area, when they had people over) with a wide smile on her face. Said smile slipped once she heard what her parents were talking about.

"We won't starve, even with the higher prices, Kairi. The war won't affect the fish—" Papa said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"It's not food I'm worried about, dear." Her mama sounded like she was in pain. "It's just—I'm still worried about Umiko. What if the draught doesn't work? What if nothing that Kaya can scrounge up is enough to help her? Can we get enough money to bring her to Uzu for better treatment? We couldn't even afford the medicine Kizu still managed to get for us, how could we afford a proper shinobi doctor?"

"WHO NEEDS A DOCTOR!" Umiko declared as she dramatically slid the door open with a bang. "It worked just fine, see!" She even spread her arms out theatrically for extra effect.

She made sure that none of her unease showed as she proudly presented her normal, energetic, and cheerful self to her papa and mama. The two gaped at her, breakfast momentarily forgotten. From the looks of the low-set table the couple sat it, they had been about halfway through their meal.

Umiko was taken aback when her papa actually let out a full-on laugh, swiftly standing up from his cloth seat on the floor. She couldn't help but continue staring at him as he even hugged her.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Papa mumbled without letting go.

"Leave me alone," Lynn muttered. "I know I screwed up, okay?" She turned away so she wouldn't see the look on Kay's face. Her black eye was still sore.

Lynn remained motionless when she was dragged into an embrace instead.

A small, true smile formed on her face. Umiko returned the hug. She liked hugs. She wished her papa gave them more often.

Her mama also visibly exhaled in relief from where she was sitting, having unconsciously dropped her chopsticks onto her lap. "Thank goodness," she said with a teary smile. "Hopefully your sleep stays normal even after we use up the draught we have." Umiko's smile flickered, but remained.

What followed was the nicest breakfast Umiko had eaten in a while, considering that she couldn't remember the ones she had within the two weeks or so. She had missed actually being able to concentrate on what she was eating—her mama spent a lot of effort in preparing the usual steamed rice and grilled fish. And as simple as the meal was, the care her mother had for them showed in its taste.

Yet even as she enjoyed the much more pleasant chatter between her parents about village gossip and the like, Umiko still couldn't help but feel that niggling sense of remorse at the back of her head. The five year old finished her food relatively quietly, only asking a few questions here and there, but her heart wasn't really in it.

"...Mama, Papa?" she eventually said. Her parents paused at the downcast look on her face. "Am I a burden?"

"No—of course not!" Visibly perturbed, her mama reached out to her, brushing away some of her hair from her face. "Why would you ever think that?"

"You said—" Umiko sniffed. "You said you couldn't afford the medicine you need for me because of the prices going up, and—"

"...you had to sell the car just for my private room? And you didn't tell me?"

"I wouldn't want you to waste money on me."

"Oh, no, no, no…" Papa whispered soothingly, moving closer to her as well. She found herself in her second embrace of the day as both of her parents held her tight. She couldn't help but feel eased by their warmth.

"Listen," her mama murmured. "You are not a burden. We were just scared that we couldn't do enough to help you get better."

"We didn't want to worry you; we wanted you to focus all your energy on recovering."

"But—"/"But—"

"We were just worried for you. We love you, okay?"

"We love you, Lynn. Don't ever think that you're a burden to us."

Umiko sobbed in the arms of her parents for a good, long while.

After Umiko had calmed down enough, she found herself desiring to ask one last question. Something that had been on her mind since her nightmares began.

About hospitals, evil foxes, mysterious and strange red eyes, and war.

Endless war.

No end in sight that she could see Red. Pure red, stark crimson blood shed from more and more bodies and fighters and ninja and knives and eyes even as the sun rose and the sun fell continuously the sun's movement accelerated faster yet faster yet faster until all she ever saw of the bright orb in the sky were flashes upon flashes in years years of war and blood and a city bordered by a carved mountain in flames and…a…...screen?

It had been too foggy for her to fully decipher.

Umiko eyed her parents carefully. "Is the war going to end soon?"

Her parents shared a look. "...Umiko," her papa began. "The thing about wars is that the bigger they are, the longer they last. This war...it's a really big one. We don't know for sure—and I don't think anyone, not even the ninja themselves, ever really know for sure when the war's going to end...but I don't think it's going to end anytime soon."

Umiko couldn't say anything to that. She gripped the edge of her shorts tightly.

"But," her papa smiled. "You don't need to worry about that. We're safe, here, in the Land of Whirlpools! Remember, the entire island's far away from all the fighting. Let the ninja worry about it, okay?"

"...okay." Umiko relaxed. Papa was so smart, just like her dream father was.

Fractured dreams were barely understandable to even the most mature of five year olds. Umiko never considered that her second set of beloved parents could ever be wrong.

The sky was painted a deep red-orange as the sun slowly set. The waves were calm, even as the sea gradually reached high tide. It was, by all means, a perfectly normal evening as far as the inhabitants of the small village of Kagayaku were concerned.

Arata had been eating dinner with his family when the screaming started.

"What on earth…" Arata murmured in alarm. His daughter instantly latched onto his wife for safety as he stood up from the table instinctively. The distant sounds of screaming echoed throughout the village. What was happening?

"ARATA!"

The front door of their house slammed open with a bang, revealing his wild-eyed and disheveled best friend. He was panting, and more terrified than he had ever seen him before. "ARATA," he gasped, grasping onto the side of the door in exhaustion. "WE NEED TO RUN!"

"Kizu, calm down." Kairi scolded while holding Umiko in a reassuring hug, who was still shivering in fear. From the sweat that covered her brow, she was struggling to remain calm herself. "Explain."

"NO, THERE'S NO—" The fisherman broke into a cough, and, glancing at the entire family, seemed to relent. "Ninja are attacking the island."

Arata couldn't breathe. "No, there's no way," he faintly replied. "Why would they…"

"They've made it to the village, but an Uzushio shinobi passing by told me they're all over the fucking nation. Iwa, Suna, even Ame and Kiri—they're all here, on the island."

"BUT WHY?!" Umiko screamed. Arata's mind suddenly returned to a year earlier, when his daughter had nearly given him a heart attack. When she had seemed to age several years in a single moment and pierced him with a blistering stare before asking him about the war.

When he had reassured her that they were safe.

"You said—everyone said that we were far away from the fighting, that we were—" The six-year old abruptly stopped. Her panicked expression, without warning, relaxed.

"...Umiko?"

"They...want to destroy Uzushiogakure…" Umiko whispered under her breath, her words barely discernible to his ears...almost as though she was caught in a trance. "...because of the power of their fuinjutsu."

"What?"

Umiko blinked, the spell broken. "I—I don't know?!" The girl clutched at her head, eyes wide and frozen.

"Nevermind that now," Kizu interrupted briskly. "What's important is that ninja are attacking the island, and the Uzushio ninja are losing."

Arata struggled to move. His heart hammered in his chest. "I—"

More screams suddenly pierced the air, much, much closer now.

Kizu turned around to look. "Fuck, they're right outside," he muttered. From the side, Arata could watch a barrage of emotions run through his closest friend's face—anger, hopelessness, grief, then sheer determination all in a single instant—

"I'll distract them."

"Wait—"

The lanky fisherman—that insane, dimwitted, courageous asshole—slammed the door shut behind him.

The air in the house was stifling. Arata took in a deep breath before turning to his horrified wife and stunned daughter. "We need to go," he said. "Now."

There wasn't any time. Kairi had Umiko grab one of his fishing satchels filled with the extra rations he had brought home from where it lay on the side, and they were off. The cozy wooden cottage that Kizu had helped him build when he and Kairi had gotten married, where they had raised Umiko peacefully and happily for the past six years—they barely spared it a glance as they hurried through its back door.

The village itself had been set ablaze. As far as Arata could see, scattered copses of trees and a number of wooden houses all burned indiscriminately. The screams, shouting, and even sounds of metal striking metal continued on from every direction. They had to move quickly. Every moment was precious. He couldn't waste the chance that Kizu had given him.

The sun continued to make its way below the horizon as the family ran beneath the dusk. They rushed past more burning cottages, they dashed around clusters of dead bodies. They even sped past other fleeing villagers, so desperate, as they were, to escape. They ignored everything just to run.

'But,' as Arata mused despairingly when a duo of sneering ninja appeared out of nowhere and directly blocked their path. 'We can't run past ninja, huh?'

"Heh," said one—a short yet muscular man who dressed wholly in black, much like the rest of them, and had a long sword at his side. He wore one of those ninja headbands on his arm for some strange reason. "Looks like we have a little family here."

"Indeed," remarked the other. He gripped one of his strange ninja daggers, which dripped fresh blood. "Doesn't the sight make you feel warm?"

Arata grit his teeth and pulled his wife and daughter closer. The two were completely frozen in fear even as he burned with anger, adrenaline coursing through his veins. And yet, his mind was blank. What was he supposed to do?

"Man, that lady's quite the looker," said the first one as he licked his lips. "And I bet that little girl they have over there will be the same in a few years."

"Oh, for sure!" the second one agreed, staring directly at his daughter. "What's your name, lass?"

The terrified girl shakily opened her mouth, then closed it just as quickly. Arata was startled when her eyes suddenly narrowed into sharp points. "Fuck off," she told them straight in the eye, to his simultaneous dismay and pride. "Wouldn't want to waste words on you sacks of shit."

The pair were visibly taken aback for several seconds before they scowled. "It appears that you haven't disciplined your daughter properly, for her to use such uncouth language," the second ninja spat. His foolish, courageous daughter blinked rapidly, her expression returning to normal, then paled. "Let me do it for you." He jumped forward—

—only to suddenly have Kairi intercept him and tackle him down. "YOU WILL NOT GET ANYWHERE NEAR MY DAUGHTER!" she screamed in his face, surprising him enough to nearly fumble his weapon. The two tumbled and tussled, the other ninja's mouth wide open in surprise as a civilian woman somehow summoned the force to wrestle with a ninja out of sheer fury.

Before he could move to help her, the fisherman watched in horror as the ninja quickly caught her in his grip, held his wife down with inhuman strength…

And effortlessly stabbed her through the throat.

The ninja got up, unceremoniously dropping his wife's bleeding body to the side. "Fucking bitch," he muttered, spitting onto it. The other chuckled. Arata saw red.

All of a sudden, a silhouette darted past them and punched the middle ninja in the jaw.

Arata gaped at the figure. It was a crimson-haired man wearing a metal headband marked with a spiral—the symbol of Uzushiogakure. His armor was tattered and barely holding itself together, and he had a crudely carved peg-leg in place of his left leg. The shinobi was also somehow still alive despite having a sword piercing straight through his bleeding torso.

"You complete scum," the shinobi uttered with sheer disgust.

"You're not dead?!" shouted the sword ninja in alarm.

"You will need much more than a surprise attack to put down one of the jonin of Uzushio, honorless reject genin. Even a retired cripple like me." The proud shinobi raised his bare fists, relaxed his shoulders, and prepared his stance. His vest was completely drenched in his own still flowing blood. "Now, come."

Arata's disjointed thoughts ran in circles. So much had happened so soon, and so quickly...but he allowed himself just a sliver of hope—an Uzushio shinobi, possibly attracted by Kairi's shout, had finally come; too late to save his wife, but maybe in time to save—

'No,' Arata thought. Outnumbered and already heavily injured, the crippled shinobi engaged the pair in a close quarters fight that the fisherman could barely follow, even pulling out strange, glowing scrolls at times and bringing out all kinds of weapons. He was somehow keeping their attention all at once, but it was clear for even a simple fisherman like Arata to see—the noble, brave, and skilled shinobi was only barely keeping up. It would only be a few minutes before the exhausted veteran would bleed out, allowing the enemy ninja to go for him and his daughter.

In the heat of the moment, Arata knew what he had to do.

"Listen to me, Umiko." He bent down to face his daughter, who hadn't moved a single inch from his side. The ninja continued to trade blows.

The girl appeared to be in shock, still staring at the cooling body of his beloved wife. "But," she mumbled listlessly. "I—Mama—she—"

"Look me in the eye and listen to me."

From out of his pocket, Arata retrieved his battered compass, gently lifted his daughter's hand and carefully placed it into her palm.

"Take the short way around to the dock, through the palm forest. Find the fastest sailboat you can find, and go. Just keep sailing west—you'll eventually hit land, and you'll be safe."

They were very close to the dock now, and he was sure that no ninja lingered around the empty forest at this time. Not to mention the fact that their village dock was isolated and far away from the village proper. She would be out of harm's way...but alone.

And he knew that the chances of a six-year old making her way through the whirlpools that his country was known for in the hopes of landing safely at the Land of Fire were next to zero. But he believed—he had to believe—that his precious daughter, so cheerful, so clever and brave for her age, could do it on her own.

Umiko was sobbing now, tears silently dribbling down her face as she clutched her father tightly. "I love you," she whispered softly, her messy hair covering her eyes.

Arata felt his heart breaking, but was filled with steely resolve.

"We'll always love you too, Umiko. Both me and your mother, even if we aren't with you." Arata carefully brushed aside the locks of hair that obscured part of her face, looking straight into the deep gray eyes that mirrored his own. He wanted to be sure that she could take solace in the memory of his face, like he had with his own father years before. "Now, go."

Umiko shuddered and ran. Arata took a deep breath, and gathered what little strength he had. The veteran shinobi was clearly losing now, having taken even more hits, but the other ninja were clearly injured too. Good.

'I'll join you soon, Kairi. But first, I need to make sure they forget about Umiko. Let's see if an old civilian can at least manage a punch on one of those fucking assholes.'

To say that Enmei Uzumaki was having a rough day would be a complete understatement.

The young chunin coughed out a bit more splatters of blood onto the sand. He couldn't hear the sounds of the battle anymore. The fight had taken him far away from Uzushio—at the very edge of the island, even—as he hadn't been in the village when the invasion started. He was currently hunched over in pain, desperately trying to swirl whatever remained of his chakra into his gut in an attempt to stop his internal bleeding. Lousy fucking Ame ninja and their lousy stupid water release ninjutsu.

There had been no end to them, even in the civilian lands; many of the invaders in that area had been unskilled, having mostly been genin and low-chunin. But they had been so heavily outnumbered, here at the far-off edges of the country...they couldn't keep up. They were losing.

No. He couldn't die here. He still had so much left to give, and so much to live for—

The shinobi felt a presence enter his range. He sensed barely any chakra from it, so it was probably a civilian. A survivor.

Enmei steadied himself with one of the wooden poles that jutted from the ground. Despite the fast fading light, he had no trouble looking out into the distance for any sign of the lucky civilian. He found himself momentarily gobsmacked when a tiny, dark-haired girl appeared from amidst the trees, staring straight at him with a teary-eyed expression.

"Listen," he said once he had regained his wits. "I'm not—"

"The enemy," the girl interjected, wiping at her eyes before regarding him with a steely gaze. "I know, Lord Shinobi. You have the right hair and headb—no, forehead protector, right. I looked first before I came."

'What a smart kid.' Enmei couldn't help but be impressed; he certainly wasn't as careful as she was when he was younger. "How come you're alone?" he asked.

The girl's face fell.

"Damn," Enmei could easily guess what had happened. "Alright, my bad."

"I—okay." The young girl firmed her gaze before trudging onto the dock. "I'm leaving."

Enmei blinked. "You're—" The girl had a rusty compass clutched in her hand. "You know how to sail?!"

"I've lived in a coastal village all my life, course' I know how to sail," the girl answered with a snort, even as she moved towards one of the smaller, single-mast keelboats that were tied to the dock.

"Ha—" he began to laugh, before he doubled over and coughed out more blood, spilling what felt like his guts all over the ground. 'Shit,' he thought, grimacing. 'I really am gonna die.'

"Are you okay?" Enmei winced as the girl jolted him back to reality, an expression of concern on her face. She already had one foot in the boat.

"Eh, well," he grinned and flashed her a thumbs down. "Not really."

The girl looked like she was at a loss for words before pursing her lips together and raising an eyebrow at him. He decided that he definitely liked this girl.

"Hey," Enmei said. "What's your name?"

"...Umiko."

"Umiko, huh. I'm Enmei." The chunin thought quickly before settling on a decision. "Can you take me with you?"

Umiko's eyes widened. "Eh?"

"I'm not gonna last long," he admitted. "But I really need to get somewhere." Even if it was only his dead body that reached Konoha, that would be alright. From the few he'd met, he knew that Konoha shinobi were a smart bunch. They'd understand what had happened with just his corpse. It was a long shot, but what else could he do? "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Umiko answered. "Yeah, sure. Let me help you on."

It was a struggle, but the two managed to work together to get him lying semi-comfortably on the boat. Umiko, to his amazement, expertly handled the riggings and the sail like she had been doing so for most of her life—and she had been, apparently. Her small stature didn't hinder her in the slightest. A few minutes later, they were off at sea, the wind and waves quickly taking them farther and farther away from the shore.

Instead of showing relief at their successful escape, Umiko frowned, tightening her grip on the rigging. "I've never gone out farther than the fishing areas," she confessed as she glanced at her compass. "I know the Land of Fire is just west, straight west—but I don't know how to deal with all the whirlpools and stuff. I mean, they only come out at high tide."

"Ah," he vocalized in response. "That's understandable. Only ships with Uzushio ninja on them go sailing at night."

Umiko nervously shifted her feet. "Uh, like you. So do you know any ninja tricks that can help?"

"Hm…" Enmei struggled to keep his eyes open as he mentally ran through the seals that he knew. He was no good at regular water jutsu, so he would just have to make do with what he had. "I think I've got one, actually. Just give me a second."

Enmei brought out his trusty brush and standard ink pot, alongside one of his spare empty scrolls from his personal storage seal. "A seal…" Umiko said in awe as she watched him retrieve his items from a pocket that obviously couldn't have have held all that normally.

"Man, you are one impressive little kid," Enmei praised. "Yeah, I'll make a seal that can get us through the whirlpools without a reinforced hull or water jutsu, no problem. Just leave it to me."

Enmei quickly drew a twist on the usual Uzumaki Barrier seal on the clean paper. The "trick" he came up with was to seal water-aligned chakra, which he could at least barely manage, instead of the usual neutral barrier chakra into the scroll. That would definitely be enough to allow Umiko to sail her boat through the rapids, and would even speed them up a fair bit. Not a bad way to go out.

"Alright, it's done," he said as he finished sealing the last of his chakra into the ink. "I'll activate it once you tell me to."

"Okay," Umiko responded, a note of relief in her voice. "Thanks."

Time passed in a companionable silence. Enmei felt close to blacking out several times, but was able to hold on, staring at the darkening sky. 'One last task,' he told himself, even as he marvelled at the fading, distant stars of the night sky. 'You only need to last for one last task…'

"Lord Enmei," Umiko said, once more interrupting his train of thought. He turned to the little girl. Her face was obscured as she stared out into the distance, her hands still on the ropes, as though she could already see her destination. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why did you become a shinobi?"

"Hm, that's a good question." Umiko flashed him an unimpressed look as she deftly handled the sail. Enmei could only chuckle before wincing at the pain. "I guess...I grew up surrounded by ninja," he said. "Almost my entire family was shinobi—my mom was one, my dad was one, even all of my siblings and cousins and grandparents were shinobi. I was the youngest kid there, so I grew up pretty inspired by them."

"Huh."

"Eh, it's not just that," he mumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open. The stars seemed to be growing even more blurry. The tiring, heartbreaking events of the day were getting to him. "I was inspired by them, but also...you know, family is everything to me. I loved them all for how much time they spent with me, and how much fun we had together," he smiled sadly at the thought, knowing it was all lost."I guess I also wanted to pay them back for all the things they did for me."

"I owed them that much."

"Paying them back," Umiko muttered. "That's a pretty—holy shit those are huge."

Enmei lifted his head from where he lay to see the intimidating whirlpools that the Land of Whirlpools were famous for. A dozen blocked their way forward, each with around a forty-feet radius and unfathomable depths.

"Alright, then." Enmei stated, barely audible. "Hold on tight, Umiko."

Warned appropriately, the young civilian immediately hugged the mast of the boat.

He pressed the seal on the side of the boat and concentrated, using the last of his strength to flash through a few hand seals. To his relief, a strong azure glow and the feeling of acceleration answered his activation sequence. His rapidly failing eyesight couldn't let him see the exact effects of his improvised seal, but from the whirling sounds of the water, the nature-enhanced barrier was stabilizing the topmost portions of the whirlpool as they sailed through.

He tried to picture it in his mind. A small sailboat handled by a young girl while the bleeding body of an Uzushio ninja rested in the back. A glowing shield out of circulating water formed out of the sea was all that protected it from the colossal whirlpool beneath it. A cloudless sky of stars, the smell of the sea on the breeze that blew along the waves...

Enmei closed his eyes, a soft smile gracing his face. His duty was finally done. At least, in the end, he was

able to

save

one…

"Lord Enmei, it worked! HAHAHAHA, IT'S WORKING! WE'RE GOING TO MAKE IT!"

"...I'm going to make it."

"..."

"...Lord Enmei?"

"Enmei?"

"Everyone, get up! There's been an attack!"

Nobuo's eyes quickly flicked open, suddenly fully awake. He jumped down from his bunk, an action mirrored by his bunkmate and his bunkmate's canine partner to the side. Moonlight flooded the room from an opened door, revealing that the remaining genin and chunin present had done the same. The pair quietly nodded at each other.

The two of them, alongside everyone else within the small outpost's barracks, immediately headed for the commander's briefing area, alarm and discipline simultaneously driving their haste. As the chunin's quarters of the seaside outpost were right next to it, it only took them a few moments flickering through the shifting shadows of the forest to reach their destination—an outside section directly in front of the captain's quarters.

They weren't the first to arrive.

"I don't understand this," said one of the older chunin present. A Nara, from the emblem on her flak jacket. "Iwagakure has grown bold. Ordering a strike so near our borders, literally off the coast—"

"No." Captain Hatake interrupted. "Not as simple as a strike. Other outposts have confirmed sighting more than a dozen war barges, much more than what Iwagakure can muster on their own, sailing for the Land of Whirlpools from multiple directions. This must be a full-on assault...but I don't quite understand their angle…" He frowned. "Althou—no, there's no way they would actually..."

The silver-haired jonin winced as he trailed off, readjusting the bandage on his shoulder. The renowned ninja had been assigned to their outpost for rest, considering its distance from the front lines. It seemed that the war had followed him anyway.

"Nobuo Furuta and Arai Inuzuka—please do a perimeter check to ensure that there are no enemies in the immediate vicinity," instructed the captain.

The pair nodded and body flickered away.

They were silent as they moved. Aki, Arai's gray-furred, wolf-like partner, took the lead with his keen senses since his Inuzuka partner was in no mood to do so. The duo had only recently been raised in rank, due to field promotions in the aftermath of an engagement against Iwagakure infiltrators. It was also the battle where they had lost the other two members of their team.

Both were in no hurry to talk, and let the silence of the evening fill the space between them even as they sped along the ground and through the woodland stretch. They had a lot on their minds.

Nobuo's sensei had been like a father to him; and Nina, a sister. Losing them had almost been as difficult as losing his parents had been. As the trees around him shifted from oak and beech to solely palm, with the distinct fresh and earthy smell of the forest giving way to the salt of the sea, the shinobi couldn't help but wonder about what he was supposed to do next. At least Arai still had his family...but how could he possibly begin to move on from—

"Nobuo," Arai whispered, his voice cutting through the night. So soon, so close to the outpost, and Aki had already stopped moving. Nobuo immediately feared the worst.

Thus, the sight that greeted him came as a complete surprise.

A little girl kneeled on the shore, her legs resting in the curling waves. Reaching around three and a half feet tall, she seemed to be around six, maybe seven years old. She stared off into the distance at a far-off coast that Nobuo instinctively knew was the Land of Whirlpools while weeping bitterly. A battered yet intact sailboat lay capsized on the sand at her side, along with what appeared to be the body of an Uzushio ninja—at least, judging from his uniform, headband, and hair.

The pair of Konoha shinobi shared a look. Aki continued to observe the girl, his tall ears flicking about, but remained silent.

Arai sighed and shook his head. "You know I'm no good at these kinds of things."

Nobuo glared at him for a moment before reluctantly relenting. The chunin knew all too well that his Inuzuka friend wasn't the greatest at comforting others.

He carefully approached the girl. He soon noticed that her loose camisole shirt and shorts were stained with both fresh and dried blood. She was also visibly unwounded. The chunin gulped before opening his mouth.

"Kid, it's okay," Nobuo spoke as softly as he could. "Everything's alright now. You're safe."

The girl forcefully wiped at her face and shook her head. The girl's gray eyes were puffy and red—she had clearly been crying for some time. "No, the other ninja…they're still there—" She turned towards him, took one look at him and froze. "...here?"

Nobuo tried his best to smile reassuringly. "We're not going to hurt you. We're from Konoha."

Her eyes widened, gazing directly at his forehead protector. "Oh." The girl took a step back, her eyes dilating, her breathing quickening rapidly—

"No, no—everything is okay, everything is alright!"

The survivor collapsed. Nobuo swiftly grabbed her before she hit the cool sand of the beach.

"She fainted," he muttered, lifting her limp body from the sand.

Aki trotted forward, sniffing at her side. Arai moved next to him with an uncharacteristically empathetic expression. "I don't blame her," his partner said, placing a hand onto his shoulder.

Nobuo squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and shook his head. "Let's finish the patrol then head back." Arai nodded, picking up the body of the fallen ninja before rejoining his side.

He carried her as gently as he could.

Author's Note:

...so is it any good?

I kid. More seriously though, any feedback in the form of comments (in the reviews) would be a lot of help.

My main goal for this story is to experiment with a main character who isn't exactly a full on "self-insert," but only carries the fragments of another person's memories. Expect the main character to act like a somewhat more mature and intelligent kid due to her extra memories who still needs a lot more growing up to do.

Thank you for reading.