Sharingan comes with a price
If a grown woman was really born into the body of an Uchiha, she would very quickly learn that there's a price to the sharingan.
Being reborn isn't the most horrific and uncomfortable experience, at the time it would have been but I've lived too long in a harsh world for it to be so any longer.
Not only are you confused, helpless, terrified, confused and screaming, your only previous memory of yourself dying playing on repeat in your mind...it's awful, it's horrific, it's disgusting but it's survivable, livable.
Babies are born with very poor eye sight, they can only see their mothers face if they are very close to her, that poor vision only increased my terror, but I shant bore you with the awful details of the helplessness, the nappies, the complete reliance on other people, having to learn a completely foregin language from scratch.
When I realised I was in an anime I had rather enjoyed in my previous life, Naruto, I was shell shocked for days; my parents becoming rather worried over my unnatural silence, and then I cried and screamed for a long time.
It was around that time I realised I had been born to an almost immediate death.
I was born into the Uchiha clan, I had no clue where I was in the time line or if the time line was even accurate, but if it was I wasn't going to live very long.
Itachi would take care of that.
Growing up in a Shinobi village in a Shinobi family gave me no choice but to become a Shinobi myself, and in my infant and toddler stages I had no idea how to pace myself and very quickly became a progedy child.
I was sent off to the academy at 4.
I graduated at 7.
I gained my sharingan at 12.
I became a chuunin at 13.
I lived through hell.
There is no glory or heroism in fighting, it's hard, it's gritty, it's gory, it's painful, it's wrong.
I hated it.
Maybe halfway through my thirteenth year I was introduced to my new baby cousin.
Itachi.
I stared at the baby in horror, knowing it was only a matter of years before his hand ended my life.
I was going to die again.
I became fixated on getting stronger, my survival instincts screaming at me to get faster, stronger, more flexible, learn more jutsu do something!
I didn't want to die again, the first time was awful enough.
My extreme focus on training meant that I was distant, I had no friends, I spoke with my family rarely, if I wasn't on a mission, eating, peeing, or sleeping then I was training.
It dominated my life.
I saught out taijutsu experts, jutsu experts, any kind of expert I could possibly think of to help me better myself in preperation for that night.
The night the entire clan would be slaughtered.
I remember, one day when Itachi was 5 I went to his birthday party, his parents looked happy, his newborn baby brother looked happy, he looked happy, much happier than in the show anyway, much happier than he would be later in life.
I knelt down and smiled at the boy, yes I was terrified of what he would do, but he was a hero in his own right, and I respected that, also he was a child and I couldn't bring myself to treat a child with anything other than love and respect, child soldier or no.
"Hello Itachi-san, happy birthday."
He nodded and I ruffled his hair before handing him two small wrapped packages and said quietly, so no one else could hear,
"See this one? You can open it now but see this one? I don't want you to open this until you are 13, alright? After the Hokage tells you to do something, something very, very big, that's when you can open it, alright?"
He looked at me and frowned,
"Why?"
I gave him my most gentle smile,
"Because your cousin can see the future and I know what's going to happen, be strong for yourself and be strong for your brother."
I ruffled his hair again and I left the celebration with nothing more than a polite goodbye.
He was going to kill me in 8 years.
The night of the Kyuubi attack I was terrified, the Kyuubi's chakra was liquid death and oh my god I was going to die, I couldn't make it, no, no, no, no, no.
I pushed my panicked thoughts aside as I tried to guide civillians through the streets, a newly graduated genin, eyes wide with fear, took over and I roof hopped, despite every instinct screaming at me to get the fuck away from here back towards the Kyuubi to fight.
I was a jounin now, I was expected to fight, the Genin and lower chuunin would help the civillians, I needed to hold the beast back.
There was no glory in death the first time it happened, I had been in a car crash and I no doubt had become just another statistic back home.
And there was no glory in death this time around, with a sweep of it's claws the Kyuubi cut down more than 20 Shinobi.
I was one of them.
I was just another name for the memorial stone.
Yet again just another statistic.
...
Itachi's hands trembled, he didn't want to do it, desperately so, he didn't want to kill him family, his mother, his father, his brother...no, he would not kill Sasuke, he refused to kill his baby brother.
There had to be another way...his eyes landed on a small wrapped gift, it had collected dust in the time it had sat there but he hadn't opened it.
Mayako Uchiha, his cousin who had been killed in the Kyuubi attack had given him that gift on his fifth birthday and told him not to open it.
He had not known his older cousin very well, but from what he could remember she was peaceful, and very kind, if rather distant.
"Because your cousin can see the future and I know what's going to happen, be strong for yourself and be strong for your brother."
He reached for it and gently tore it open to reveal a notebook, he flipped it open and began to read, his eyes becoming progressively wider.
When he finished reading he stood there for a long time, 'Because your cousin can see the future and I know what's going to happen' how did she get this information? How did she know this?
He contemplated throwing the notebook out but...what if what was written in these pages was true?
He tucked the book into a pocket and wished that his cousin had not died so soon, he wanted answers.
That night, the Uchiha clan was murdered.
