I'd have to say the strangest sensation I've had the misfortune of feeling is being fully cognizant, at least in terms of tactile processing, during my own birth, but I'd rather not get into too much detail about that.

Conscious birthing aside, this whole situation is rather strange, really. One minute, I'm falling asleep – probably dying – in a hospital bed, surrounded by snickering doctors. The next thing I know, I'm rudely awakened by the uncomfortable feeling of being pulled through a fleshy opening that I should have never fit through. Oh wait. Sorry, I said I wouldn't go into too much detail about that.

The strangest thing about my situation is that there was a massive rush of information that flooded my mind the second I saw the light of this new world. Apparently, I was born, or reborn, I should say, in Konoha, the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

Yeah, that Konoha, from the manga Naruto.

Now that I've got all the boring setting stuff aside, I'd like to get more into who I am and the meaty details of my unfortunate situation. I was born into some no name clan that decided to join the wonderful village of Konoha shortly after its founding. Worst of all, I was born shortly after the First Shinobi World War, a time that was barely fleshed out during the manga, so no magical otherworldly foreknowledge to exploit throughout my life. Okay, no more complaining.

Actually, I lied; I'll have one more complaint.

Of all the fictional universes to be born into, I was forced into the wonderful, plot-hole-filled brainchild of Kishimoto?

I huddled closer into the blanket wrapped around me by the nurse and looked up into the bright, green eyes of my presumed mother. She looked back at me with a strange mixture of awe and shock. Did I do something wrong?

I shuffled my upper body out of the cloth cocoon and inspected my… arms, as in two, fully functional arms. I'll have to add that to the list of things to remember for the future. Being reborn would mean that I would not have any of my old injuries or physical deficiencies. More specifically meaning that I am no longer an amputee. I looked back up at my mother and saw her looking at me with those same worried eyes. There was definitely nothing wrong with my. Then, it hit me.

I was a baby. And, based on my mom's reaction, I was a very smart baby. I should really remember to make my eyes look dumber in the future. And cry more. Anything more aligned with infantile idiosyncrasies. I was ptobably one of the many once-in-a-lifetime prodigies that littered Kishimoto's amazing world of magical ninjas. Wait. Pre-second war era, no name clan, and child prodigy? Which one was I? Did I take someone else's place?

I looked back at my mother, drinking in her features. She had smooth, pale skin, sharp facial features, and very long black hair. I reached out and gently pulled my hands through her hair, noting that it was very soft as she let out gentle peals of laughter and cooed at me. I racked my brain to think of people who would fit my description. Itachi? No… I'm to early to be him. Maybe Kakashi, or Sakumo? Those two supposedly gained all their features paternally, so the women in their families could look like anything?

Honestly, I'd be ok with any of the above. They're all badass ninjas in their own right. I was so immersed in my ruminations that I nearly jumped out of my blankets when a man in completely white clothing approached my mother. I glanced over at him similarly, taking note of his almost slitted eyes. Was that Orochimaru? Maybe my information was wrong. I really hope I wasn't Orochimaru's secret bastard child or anything. The whole Mitsuki and Log thing still reeked heavily of bullshit.

"I'm sorry I was late, dear," the man began. "I rushed back into the village as fast as I could when I heard you had gone into labor."

Well, at least who or whatever deemed it fit to implant a dictionary into my head.

"It's alright," my mother replied, stroking my head lightly. "I was just about to name him, unless you had any suggestions?"

"Well, his eyes look a lot like mine… Sorry about that."

Oh god please no. I'm a little snake boy now?

"Oh you don't need to apologize. I always thought those were your most alluring features, you know."

I almost vomited then and there. If watching my new parents flirt and make out was my first major experience in this world, Konoha would forever be known as the village with the first infantile suicide.

"Hmmm. Maybe something with snakes then? He can probably sign the Contract when he grows older," my father stated pensively.

Oh god. Was this some kind of horrifying alternate universe Naruto where Orochimaru was actually a nice guy? That's it, isn't it. I'm the snake pedophile's firstborn son. Woe is me.

"He does seem very intelligent, especially for an infant. A valuable asset to Konoha, for sure."

My father laughed.

"Maybe we should give him a name to pass down through legend then."

I don't like where this is going.

"You're right, Yashagoro. Maybe we'll name him based on your name then?"

That name sounded familiar…

Oh wait. No. Please, no. Not like this. Anything but this.

"See, I told you waiting until his birth wasn't a bad idea," he said with a scarily familiar smirk.

"It's settled, then. His name will be –"

Don't you dare say it.

"Orochimaru."

Fuck.