Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

It was closing in.

The darkness clings to me and I can't breathe. It won't let go. My lungs constrict harshly and I watch as the world blurs into a faded gray, a muffled static buzzing in my ears. I felt the energy seep from my bones and the work around me still. Then for the last time, I gave a pained breath and watched everything go black.

That was how I died.

Anticlimactic some would say, maybe even bordering on boring. For me it was anything but.

It was the beginning of the end.

Unlike any other person who had been subjected to torturous death, I hadn't really expected anything to happen. Maybe a flashback of cherished memories or a disembodied voice to soothe me, but overall I had welcomed death with a calm a monk would be jealous over.

So when you take one reasonably traumatized girl who was more or less okay with being dead and suddenly revive her, what do you get?

Absolute chaos.

It was very much not okay when suddenly blood was pumping through my veins and I could feel the quiet thrum of my heart once more. It was not okay that I could hear odd voices and see bright lights glaring back at me.

This was not okay.

To top it off, I was cold, somewhat paralyzed and overwhelmed to the point I thought I might hurl.

Knowing that was just gross and wouldn't get me anywhere, I did the next best thing.

Cried like a little bitch.

It wasn't my best moment, but it had felt like the appropriate response for such a situation.

Through the tears and delirium, I tried thinking of numerous explanations of why I would be alive and came up blank.

Unless getting brutally stabbed to death was something you could easily come back from, I was at a standstill.

I was dead. Murdered by someone close—though I can't seem to remember who anymore— and now alive as of a few minutes ago.

Thankfully I wasn't allowed to dwell on my issues for long before the sweet darkness took over me and I fell asleep.

Maybe this was just a machination that my unstable mind conjured to help me cope with death.

Maybe.

It took me three months to realize.

It was perhaps pitiful on my part to have denied all the obvious signs of my predicament, but accepting it would've made things more real.

And there was no way this was real.

Being a child again? Reincarnation? My logical side deemed those ideas completely idiotic and not worth thinking about.

But how could I deny that when daily I was breastfed—and, wow wasn't that a strange experience—coddled, and changed all by a giant who had dubbed herself as 'Kaa-san'.

Even if I wanted to dissociate myself from this, I was an infant.

I had a mother named Akiko, my own name being Sayuri and we lived in maybe a more outdated version of Japan.

Finding out my location was tricky, since everything seemed so...old fashioned. If I wasn't wrong, Japan had been a leader in technology, so why was there no phones or anything remotely of the 21st century?

Though on one day my incessant questions were answered when something interesting happened.

I had been wiggling around in my crib, desperately trying to move my pathetic excuse of a body when I heard angry voices booming in the house.

My senses were alerted and I watched as the door to my nursery was thrown open and a scowling man bursted through. Kaa-san was grabbing at his arms, looking like she didn't want him there.

There were arguing in Japanese, something I still hadn't quite grasped, only being able to recognize a few words.

"Why—I didn't know! You—how—do this? —child!" the man roared, hands pointing at my crib.

With my poor language skills, I wasn't able to piece together his sentence.

Kaa-san yanked him out the room, but not before I saw a piece of metal glinting back at me.

A hitai-ate.

What. The. Fuck.

I could almost laugh at the absurdity of it, but I was too terrified to do so.

A ninja. That man was a fucking ninja.

To clear things up, I had enjoyed watching anime when in my first life. Not a full blown otaku, but I enjoyed watching Naruto from time to time. It was nice watching it. Not living it.

All the problems, the dangers, the death—god, I think I'm going hysterical— was now part of my life. I didn't want to be a child soldier forced to kill others for the 'will of fire'. No, all the patriotic bullcrap the show spewed was not something I wanted to partake in. I didn't even know what point in the show I was, for god's sake.

I could be in the Third Shinobi War for all I knew and get killed in an instant.

As happy and carefree the anime had seemed, it wasn't. This was a world where the strong ruled and the weak were left as cannon fodder. Being a civilian could lead to a long life, but easily cut short with how easy it was to kill them. Civilians were regarded as below shinobi and not of value. Shinobi however had cutthroat lives, doing mission upon mission, never knowing which one would finally be the last. That uncertainty, that resigned fate was not something I wanted.

Those who were free were strong, but even so had to deal with the backlash with being strong. Having people constantly depend on you, on that strength that was so prided on.

I breathed in sharply, my throat feeling tight with panic.

This...wasn't a miracle. It wasn't a second chance at life.

It was a curse.

After the unpleasant revelation, I had made a decision. One that could possibly come back to bite me in the ass, but one that would most likely benefit everyone. Jinchuriki's and Uchiha brats included.

I wasn't touching shit.

I wasn't under a rose colored illusion that me being reborn in the Naruto world meant that I could change anything. What? Did you think I'd really go befriend Naruto and the entire Rookie Nine gang and suddenly have enough strength to defeat Orochimaru and avoid a shinobi war? Hell no. Unlike others who had been reincarnated, depicted oh-so graciously by authors, I wasn't going to save the day and have everyone love me.

I was selfish.

If I was to be alive again, I sure as hell wouldn't let my life slip through my fingers by being an idiot and trying to save the world. I hadn't finished the whole Naruto anime, but I'm sure Naruto and the gang took care of everything with Madara and all. They didn't need my help. While there were people I could potentially save, I wasn't going to be apart of it.

My life would be a simple, boring civilian life with my mother. End of story.

Of course, things were never that easy.

I was three and finally my brain had forced enough Japanese into my brain and I could hold a pretty mature conversation for someone my age. Not that I let it show.

Instead, I let my beautiful kaa-san coddle me with hugs and kisses, letting her believe I was a naïve ankle biter that had a penchant for sweets.

It wasn't that bad since I enjoyed the attention and kaa-san wasn't like other mothers. She treated me as if my opinions meant a damn and weren't just childish garble that should be looked over. Sometimes, I even suspected she knew I was dumbing myself down when she gave me a knowing look when I stuttered over my words.

However all good things eventually had to come to an end.

The signs in my mother were obvious to those who payed attention. Me being me, it didn't take long to notice things were wrong.

She would cough violently sometimes, using a handkerchief to avoid germs spreading. But sometimes, I would watch as crimson drops of blood would land on the white cloth instead of ordinary phlegm.

On bad days she would be bedridden, not being able to move a muscle. On good days only a small amount of blood would make an appearance.

Those good days were becoming rarer and rarer as time went by.

It wasn't long until we were in Konoha General Hospital, tears flowing freely down my face as I grabbed my mothers hand tightly.

The one person I let myself become close to was being taken away, I thought bitterly.

I wanted to rage and scream, do anything to stop this, but one look from my mothers intense blue eyes made me falter.

Onyx met cerulean and a broken choke echoed out of my throat. This is really it.

"Sayuri."

I smiled a wobbly smile.

"I wish I could be here longer, give you the love you deserve and need. I'm so sorry, baby girl. But, before I go I need to let you know some things," kaa-san said with sadness lacing her words.

She gripped the thin hospital sheets before continuing on, eyes becoming hardened. "I want you to burn these words in your mind, Sayuri. When such a situation arises or the demon eyes come, go to our garden and your answer will be with the cherry blossoms."

Demon eyes? I was extremely put off with her cryptic message and I couldn't decipher its meaning. She was being too vague on purpose.

I didn't dwell on it long, simply storing the information away and opting to bask in my mothers last moments instead.

Shortly after the death of my mother, I was sent off to the nearest orphanage that had space since the whereabouts of my father were unknown. Whoever he was, for that matter.

I didn't react much, answering only when needed, trying to put any thoughts of my mother away. I wanted her to...fade. I wanted her to become a distant memory that I could look back on with a smile. Not the gut wrenching heartache I was experiencing now.

The orphanage matron settled me in with a group of other brats my age, all of them chattering in gibberish and playing with cheap toys.

I sighed with annoyance but stilled when I saw a lone blond playing with a stuffed turtle away from all the other kids.

Oh, fuck no.

This wasn't good. I'd have to deal with drooling ankle biters and now Naruto. I wouldn't be able to defend him or anything if I didn't want to destroy the plot. That's if my existence didn't turn everything to shit already.

Clenching my fists, I sat on my creaking bed, ignoring the commotion and wondering hysterically where everything went wrong.

Because everything was wrong.

AN: Hm. That was more angsty than I expected. Don't worry folks, our dear little Sayuri will lighten up soon. Oh, and her decision making skills aren't all there if you couldn't tell already. And demon eyes? What could that mean?

Feedback and criticism is greatly appreciated!