My name's Naori, and I'd like to tell a story. It doesn't begin in a comfortable hobbit hole or in a galaxy far, far away. No, this story begins with a suicide. Looking back, that was one of the stupidest things I've ever done. Now, I'm not telling you about this to earn pity or seek attention; I'm telling you this because what should have been an ending became a beginning.
Honestly, I wasn't sure what was happening at first.
The Catholics believe that the punishment for killing yourself is going to Hell, so when I found myself being pushed from somewhere comfortable and safe I thought I knew what was happening. The sound of someone else - someone young - wailing certainly didn't do anything to comfort me. I'm not sure if it was instinct or just being overwhelmed by what was happening, hell maybe it was both, but I quickly found myself crying too. Not the proudest way to enter the world.
An infant's eyes are woefully underdeveloped when they're born; This coupled with not understanding a word of what was being said around me (I later learned that this was because the people of the Elemental Nations speak Japanese) only reinforced my Gone-To-Hell theory. Between being convinced that I'd gone to Hell and not being to do anything on my own, I was an awful baby.
Eventually, I realized that I hadn't gone to Hell. I suppose the tip off was recognizing a few of the words spoken around me: Tou-San, Kaa-San, Itachi-Kun... Reincarnation didn't cross my mind until I heard my twin brother's name - Sasuke. Denial was, of course, my first reaction. Being reborn in a fictional universe was something that only happened in fanfiction. My doubts were crushed when my mother's friend held me for the first time. The reasoning for this was twofold; First, the woman holing me was Uzumaki Kushina. Second was the Uchiha family crest, proudly displayed on the nursery wall.
It seemed disturbingly ironic that my second life was likely to be cut short too.