This story? Was made for a birthday, and I can't thank Beta enough for it. Please go and give them the thanks for allowing me to post the beginnings of Otoha's story. All I did was add on edits and write more short fics that went onto being compiling into this whole thing. — Vy

There are some things that scar the mind forever, events that rewire the brain and affect its very structure. Soul scars I had called them. Something that, like the very essence of who a person was, would carry over across lifetimes.

Turned out I was right.

Not that it made me feel any better, not when I came to consciousness unable to move, confined, surrounded by liquid I couldn't escape from. Some things transferred over apparently, and my hypersensitivity to touch and fear of confinement counted.

It didn't take long for me to meltdown.

I was still autistic. I was still me.

It didn't take long for me to figure out where I was, what was going on, that instead of simply disappearing into the entropy of the universe, I was being reborn, flesh and blood, with all my memories intact. I'd survived so much shit in my life, apparently survival was just written into my soul as well. Not even death could really kill me.

Fortunately the inside of a womb was blessedly free of loud noises and bright lights. But the sense of liquid touching me, constant, incessant, was too much. The feel of something new too, energy flowing through my body like electricity. It was the energy from when I was manic, but it was constant, tangible, and never went away, even when I was so exhausted I couldn't stay awake.

I stimmed, in what ways my developing fetus of a body allowed me, and paid as much attention to the outside world as I could. My new parents spoke to me frequently, and something about growing a new brain made my mind exceptionally good at figuring out what they spoke.

Ah, to have the neuroplasticity and language acquisition skills of an infant. I was learning Japanese! At least they provided me with the human interaction required to keep my solitary confinement from being isolation.

I still melted down. I still kicked and squirmed and cried. All things babies were supposed to do, so at least I didn't face the ableism I had as an adult in my previous life.

At least my parents found it amusing. "Wow! Such a strong kicker! You could grow up and be a ninja!" they'd say when I flailed my arms and poked back when they poked me.

At least all the meltdowns made me exhausted so I slept. I think they appreciated that. When I went still and didn't kick internal organs. It let them rest.

At least their voices and excitement and constant talking to me kept me up to day on my impending arrival. I'm not sure who was more excited for me to be born, me, or them.

I do have to say, their sheer joy at my existence, the knowledge I was loved already, it was healing. I loved them back, fiercely, the moment their blurry blurry faces came into my existence.

They named me Otoha. They were Haha and Chichi, mom and dad. Our last name was Kuroki. They owned a bookstore. Kuroki Books. (I read everything I could and felt very much like Matilda.)

They taught me a lot more words after that. And I learned them, my brain soaking up everything like a sponge. It was a dream come true. I'd be able to learn everything.

I already knew how a lot of the world worked, and I was still me. I was also Otoha, loved child of Haha and Chichi. I knew if I had soiled my diaper or was hungry my parents would take care of me. I knew that. They loved me and were attentive. So I didn't make much of a fuss. I didn't get scared when they left me alone. I pointed when I needed something. I didn't make them play fetch while I learned about gravity and object permanence.

Somehow though, playing peekaboo is always fun. It doesn't matter if you're the baby. Anyone who plays with you, they're excited, and happy. It was an odd experiment, a sociologists dream, of being a baby and seeing how people suddenly become softer at my presence, where stern old men in green vests break into smiles and funny faces when noone but me can see.

Overall, I was a pretty calm baby. I let them sleep. Through the night. They were excited about that. Everyone else was really jealous. But hey, it was the least I could do when they took care of my every need, and as a baby, I wasn't capable of doing it myself.

Other things they were proud of: I learned to sit up, crawl, and walk early. I listened when people told me things. I ate my food - when I wasn't be incredibly picky and finickey, but I loved my vegetables. I even ate carrots! I loved carrots! Nobody loved carrots!

Things that worried them though: I babbled, I picked up words and repeated them, and did so as soon as I could get my mouth to cooperate, but surrounded by a sensation I hadn't habituated to, I was nearly nonverbal. I rarely spoke. I stimmed. And I remained quiet. And they worried. When I didn't keep up with my peers in speaking, when I continued to listen, but not respond, only speaking nonsense syllables and sounds, they worried.

I told them not to, that sometimes it was just hard, but they worried.

Still, I excelled in other areas. My balance and hand-eye coordination was something I had to relearn, but with the patience of an already adult mind, I mastered walking and running and jumping and climbing. The last two made Haha and Chichi get really worried about me, constantly trying to keep me from hurting myself, but I wanted to learn.

The green vests and black and navy uniforms. The headbands with a metal brace and a leaf on them. I knew what those meant. And I knew where it meant I was. Sometimes Haha and Chichi would put them on and disappear for a while, but one of them always remained at home.

Five years of my previous life had been steeped in the Naruto Universe thanks to my best friend. I didn't know everything, and there was a ton I didn't know or understand, but I knew enough.

I knew enough to know the ceaseless current of energy running through my body was chakra. That I was in Konoha. That regardless of how I ended up here, I had the knowledge, and thus the obligation, to change things for the better.

I just had to figure out when I was. And what version.

Unlike with my old body, my new one wasn't disabled by genetics. I won the genetic lottery this time around. I could run, I could climb, I could swim, I could skip, I could tumble and fight. I could do anything I wanted.

I could be a ninja.

Which, if I were to help change things for the better, I'd need to be anyway.

I was lucky, I guess, that my new parents were ninja. I was super lucky that Haha as a kunoichi had been trained how to use fans. In my last life, they had been a special interest. In this life, they still were. And I got to learn how to fight with them! Tessenjutsu? Hell yeah!

Anyway, having ninja parents gave me a headstart on everything. And with my desire to learn? Well, I guess I became another one of those child geniuses who would garner attention.

So, that was how I ended up handing my parents the academy entrance form with everything already filled out.

(My handwriting was so much better this time round! Lucky me!)

I was young, five, but it was the same age I had entered kindergarten in my other life, and unlike last time, I knew how to spell my name. And well, basically a lot more things. I was also more than prepared.

So, that was how I, Otoha Kuroki, walked in for my first day at school. Soft shirt, stretchy pants, and my notebook in my arms because my backpack was filled with books. (At least the nice thing about my parents owning a bookstore was they knew where to get new ones, and so long as I didn't break the spine, they could sell the books after I finished reading them. I think they ended up buying and selling used books as well to keep up with my reading.)

I'd always been called a genius, always been considered smart, so when I effortlessly passed every test with flying colors, I simply looked to fly higher.

I wanted to learn though. Which was why I remained in class while the other "natural geniuses" quickly appeared and graduated. I think I saw his white hair once? I'm not really sure. People talked about him, but I didn't pay that much attention. I was a little busy reading. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that was the ever famous and popular Kakashi Hatake.

Still, there was only so long the academy could entertain me, and only so long I could put off graduation when every adult said I was ready. And, well, I mean, when I purposefully did the math and got just enough questions wrong on the final graduation tests to keep myself from graduating so I could keep studying… well, it wasn't a popular decision and everyone knew what was happening.

I'm pretty sure they decided I'd graduate before I did. I was too smart. I was too skilled. I was wasting my talent. The village was wasting a valuable resource by letting me remain in the academy. My parents were urging me to pursue things that would challenge me. Haha had an anbu tattoo on her arm, so she knew a thing about ambition and challenge.

Which, I guess means I shouldn't have been surprised when ANBU showed an interest. And it made sense. I was exceptional, and I wasn't tied to any clans or village powers. I had been trained since birth by a — possibly retired — ANBU agent. Otoha Kuroki was a ripe plum for the picking.

As for my genin team? Well, I met them after classes ended for the day. We were in different years, but once we became genin, it didn't matter. We were a team. And I had to meet them, and our Jonin Sensei.

So, I picked up my books and my fan - this one was metal and lace, the perfect combination of fashion and function. It also made a really really lovely sound when I opened and closed it. It was by far my favorite. And the fact I had learned nature manipulation — mine happened to be wind — to make the edge sharp enough to give people a killer papercut with just a paper fan… well. I was a huge fan of fans.

"The silent shinobi, Otoha Kuroki," one of my teammates said, his voice clearly meant to mock me.

Shinobi? Bah. I was gonna be an airbender. A mini Avatar Kyoshi — except with just wind… a second elemental manipulation much less a third or fourth… Yeah, not gonna happen. So I was more like a nonbinary Kyoshi Warrior who could airbend. Ok really, there's not that good enough of an analogy. I was a shinobi trained in tessenjutsu with a wind nature manipulation.

(And I may have gone for another fan wielding person as a favorite echolalia. Get off the roof, get off the roof, get off the roof. )

I closed my fan, slipping it into my pocket and jumped down from the roof of the building to meet my new teammate. Katsuo Uchiha. 9 years old. Top of his class, except he really wasn't. He was good at Taijutsu and Ninjutsu, but he had passed most of his written exams by copying off others. Still, at least when we took the Chunin Exam I could count on him to get the information.

Our third teammate arrived shortly after that, without any quippy comment, just silent respect. Hibiki Hyuga, 8 years old, was a branch house member and as obedient in school as he was expected to be towards the main house members. He had earned his exam scores. All of them.

And then there was me. Otoha Kuroki. 7 years old. Technically top of the class, and functionally mute. I could talk, sometimes, but it was easiest just to let people think I couldn't. They tended to react better when it was an "all the time" thing than a "some of the time" thing.

Our team was loaded. If someone wanted to stack the deck during a Chunin Exam. Well, our team would do it. An Uchiha with their Sharingan (which had developed early for reasons I immediately wanted to punch someone's lights out for) and a Hyuga with the Byakugan. And then a clanless ninja who wore glasses. Guess someone had to pick up the slack for the great eyesight. But hey, I could hold them onto my face with chakra via the leaf trick!

"Oh good, you're all here!" A loud boisterous voice called out, right as a burst of smoke made me hide my nose in my shirt collar. Our sensei, Akemi Sarutobi, appeared in the space between my two teammates, slamming her hands down on each of their shoulders. "We need to get to know each other, so we're gonna have a chat." She grinned, and turned her head to look at my two very unimpressed teammates. "I need coffee. Shall we?"

All three of us stared at her. She winked at me.

"Nagareboshi Cafe," she said, "don't be late," and disappeared in another puff of smoke and burst of chakra.

While Kastuo Uchiha took off, loudly proclaiming he would get there first, I simply turned and ran. Easily crossing the streets and dodging through the crowd in a game I had made up before the academy as training, I reached the cafe before either of my teammates. Although that was likely because I knew the cafe and I'm not sure either of them did.

So, I perched on a roof across the street, in clear view of the table Akemi-Sensei had claimed, and waited to see who arrived. And I pulled my fan out, stimming with it.

Sck schk schk schk

My Hyuga teammate arrived soon after I did, politely asking for directions and bowing when he received them. The Uchiha arrived long enough after that I had considered simply going in without waiting to see if he made it.

I hopped off the roof the moment his posture shifted and he noticed the cafe with the large sign out front.

"Next time you get lost, Katsuo, ask for directions. Getting help isn't weakness," Akemi-Sensei said as we entered. "And Otoha, you may be good at gathering information, but you need to learn to share it with your allies. Intel does nothing if the people who need it don't have it."

I nodded, and sat down at the table in the spot between Sensei and Hibiki.

"You are all excellent shinobi on your own," Akemi-sensei said, as she handed out the menus. "But you are on a team now. You have missions. You need to learn to work together and use your skills for the benefit of all."

She paused as the waitress came over, taking our orders. I pointed at the menu to communicate, and the others spoke. Once our drinks and treats arrived, (green tea and strawberry mochi for me) our sensei pulled out files and paper.

"These are your files," she said, handing one to each of us, "I want you to look at them, recognize your strengths and weaknesses, then tell me how you can work together as a team."

While the pianist, Tomoko, the daughter of the cafe owners, played in the background, and her chakra flared in my peripheral senses, I opened my file. That friendship was a previous life. This life was written down on paper right in front of me.

Otoha Kuroki

I skimmed over my height and weight. I was small for my age. Teeny tiny. At least puberty promised a growth spurt in a few years. But both my parents were short in this life as well, so genetics meant my growth spurt didn't promise too much.

My stats were… well, I thought I'd be better. But I guess talent was relative. Compared to academy students, I was great. Compared to the rest of the shinobi, I was well, a genin. My parent had shinobi, which had given me more of an advantage than civilian kids. I'd been a natural at manipulating chakra, thanks to being hypersensitive to it and everything else, but I was small. My strength and stamina were abysmal. I was fast, but again, speed was relative. I was fast for a seven year old, but an adult could easily run circles around me.

Ninjutsu: 3. Thanks to my ability to do wind release no doubt.

Taijutsu: 2.5 Thanks to applying myself and getting an early start. My tessenjutsu also likely bumped up this score.

Genjutsu: 2. That probably should have actually been lower. My chakra control was good, but I still had the habit of accidentally dispelling my own genjutsu.

Intelligence: 4. Thanks, Brain.

Strength: 1. But hey, I could do a pull-up. I could do a lot of them actually. Woo ninja muscles.

Speed: 2. Just wait until I get longer legs.

Stamina: 1.5. It was probably realistically higher, I just went through more of my chakra than others having meltdowns. But, thankfully those got fewer the older I got.

Hand Signs: 3. Well, at least stimming by making them helped me somewhere.

Total: 19.

But stats didn't show the whole picture. They didn't explain why I had the scores I did. They didn't cover the ability to retain and recall anything I read or saw or heard. They didn't cover my prodigic chakra control. They didn't cover my personality. They didn't cover my ability to cope.

The notes that followed it did. They read like what I'd imagine a CIA file would, with lines blacked out and all that. Except nothing was actually blacked out.

It ran down a list of observations that clearly hadn't been made solely by my academy instructors. They had the notes from my academy instructors, things they would have easily gathered by observing me in class and reading my exams.

The rest, they were from other sources. Someone, or many someones, had been observing me. A quick scan of the area, searching for any chakra flares didn't turn up anyone suspicious, but that didn't mean they weren't there. After all, if they were careless enough to be caught by a kid, they weren't very good.

It covered my independent studies. My breakthrough on applying my nature manipulation to senbon, kunai, and fans. In learning a few wind release jutsu. The hours I had spent after school and homework practicing my tessenjutsu.

A handful of words were scattered about. Key words. Things they were looking for in potential recruits. Resolve. Determination. Adaptability. Skilled. Talent. Sensor. Observant. Dedication. Discipline. Ingenuity. Innovative. Superior Memory. Resiliency. Things that would make me an exceptional shinobi. Things that showed I was already able to cope with the violence and death that came with being a shinobi. Which was half just living for two decades in my old life in literal hell, and half having been given access to actual therapy. Mental Health. It's Important.

It didn't take me long to read through it, and I looked up at my Jonin-Sensei while my teammates finished looking over theirs so we could swap.

She was buff, and wore her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Headband over her bicep. Her spiky brown hair was short, and her eyes watched all three of us for reactions.

So, this was part of the test too.

I gave a small smirk once she locked eyes with me. I know. Sensei gave me a small nod and took another sip of her coffee.

Already aware of my strengths and weaknesses, I closed the file before I leaned back and observed the room.

Tomoko, the pianist, was effortlessly playing the music by memory, and the tune tripped something in my mind, some forgotten song I'd known once upon a time. Vy, the person she had been in a previous life, had had widely different tastes in music than I did. The song she played was likely from some video game I had never played or anime I never watched but had heard clips from.

I shook the thought from my mind and resumed my study of the room, and my teammates.

Katsuo stared at his file, brow knit together and sharingan spinning. He was trying real hard to figure it out.

Look beneath the underneath.

At least he had figured out there was something more to see.

Hibiki meanwhile was staring at me. "Uh, would you like to trade files?" he asked.

I slid mine across to him. It was definitely one way to gather information, and share it.

"Wait, are you allowed to do that? Sensei!"

"Katsuo," I said, and both my teammates turned to me. "This is about information. We have it. We share it. We don't know each other, so this is how we learn to work as a team." We needed to know each other's strengths and weaknesses in order to learn how we worked together.

"I was not aware you could talk," Hibiki said, glancing up from my file.

"That is why we are sharing files," I said, and glanced down at Hibiki's file.

His intelligence and Taijutsu stood at a solid three, the rest of his stats were solid if slightly lower. What the stat block didn't cover was his byakugan and ability to see the chakra system, to target the points. He could be more accurate than I could be with attacks. And he didn't need a weapon to do it. The Gentle Fist Style was powerful.

"Katsuo," I said, and held out the file to switch.

"You're done already?" Hibiki asked.

"Perfect Memory," I quoted from my file, and traded.

Katsuo Uchiha. His Ninjutsu was a 4. His taijutsu and genjutsu were both a 3. His stamina was a 3.5. His Hand Signs sat at a respectable 2.5. His intelligence was a 1.5. His speed and strength were low as well. But it still resulted in the highest total out of our group.

I had definitely underestimated him.

"Wow, Hibiki, your scores suuuuuuuck!" Katsuo said.

Well, tact was definitely not one of his skills.

"The total is only one point lower than yours," I said, and flipped to the notes on his.

Sharingan. He had activated it a year ago, an in the time since then had collected an impressive list of jutsu. He had fire release. He was even more of a physical threat than Hibiki.

I was, well, I wasn't a clan kid. I didn't have any kekkei genkai that made me stand out from the crowd with special abilities nobody else had. Theoretically, both my teammates could learn everything I could do. Hell, if we sparred enough Katsuo was likely to pick up my tessenjutsu. But that didn't mean I wasn't a threat. I had been trained by my parents, one of which who had definitely belonged to ANBU at some point.

But whatever those additional notes had been for, Katsuo wasn't a good fit. He was well, loud and obvious. The notes had focused on stealth and well, not being obvious.

Hibiki wasn't a good fit either. His personality was a little too, well, he was a doormat.

Neither of them had the additional, out of classroom notes. Nothing that couldn't have been observed from the academy.

So, whatever the extra thing I was meant to find was only for me. My scores were the lowest, and frankly on paper I didn't look like much of anything. I was firmly in the middle in terms of being a shinobi. But my other skills, the ones that made me stand apart. Those were the same things somebody was looking for.

I kept that bit to myself though, and shared the rest with the class.

We'd work well together. Assuming our personalities didn't clash.