Naruto belongs to Kishimoto Masashi.

The idea of this fanfiction, however, is mine alone.

THREE FRIENDS : Prolog

Giving birth is a tedious task. There is a lot of screaming, blood and squeezing involved.

In that single moment when you are about to give birth to another life, the mother just wants the pain to end. And the baby is clueless. You just feel constriction, something pressing down onto you, like you are squeezed out of a tube.

Not a good feeling, just saying.

The moment that suffocating feeling ceased, I was blinded by a bright light. I couldn't see, which was terrifying enough, but to add insult to injury I could feel myself being lifted up and passed around.

I wasn't screaming, maybe that is why they panicked, checking for my vital signs and passing me around like a sack of potatos?

"Watashiniha kanojo o ataeru." A soft voice exclaimed and the prodding and poking stopped. I couldn't understand what the gibberish meant, but it seemed that the person had authority. Next thing I know, I'm lying on something soft, warm and safe.

My former, erratic heartbeat slows. And I feel a hand on my head. Apparently being a baby meant craving for human contact, because my puny hands reached out and wrapped around the finger that poked me.

I squealed.

The person, whom I have yet to see, laughed in amusement.

Yes, laugh all you want. I want to die here. A twenty year old university student squealing? You don't see that every day. If my friends could see me now, they would laugh their butts off and would hold this moment over my head for another twenty years.

I soon noticed nervous shuffling next to me and tried turning to the noise. Of course being a baby and all, my monitoring skills have yet to be developed and I flailed around.

"I desu ka?"

A deep voice inquired.

It rumbled and made me feel all squeezy inside. I could feel the person holding me nod to that question and felt myself being picked up again. But this time, someone strong held me against their chest.

Obviously, a male. He had a strong metallic stench but also reeked of bamboo and leaves. His unique smell didn't bother me, infact it soothed me.

And when he laughed after seeing me blow a raspberry, I couldn't stop smiling and squealing.

What can I say? I was a pretty, happy baby.


Being one year old was not fun. You couldn't do anything, you just had to wait for someone to pick you up and do it for you after you've screamed your lungs out.

And, for me specifically, that was hell.

I was always proud of my independency. Even as a small child, I did everything without help. I knew how to cook when I turned seven. My previous mother had no idea how to prepare breakfast and searching for approval, I had decided to start cooking. And, really, I did not want my mother to hurt herself. She had been really clumsy.

That's why this situation perplexed me. Even more so, when I found out how my parents looked like.

It did not take long for me to starting seeing. First it were just blurs and colours, but next thing I know my eye- sight adjusted and the world changed.

I noticed that my mother was beautiful. She had long brown hair and soft hazel eyes. Her smile was contagious, bright and full of warmth when she picked me up and fed me. I always ignored the feeding part and pushed it into the back of my mind. I really did not want to remember that later on. That would traumatize me for sure.

"Kanojo wa anata no yonimieru." she said to the person standing next to her after I was full and said person seemed to agree to something with a rumble.

Feeling curious, I craned my small neck and looked at what I assumed to be my father. And at first I didn't understand why he appeared so familiar. He had long, shaggy blonde hair and strange blue-greenish eyes.

His face was filled with laugh lines and his eyes twinkled when I met his gaze head-on. In the background, I could hear mother say something again, but did not really listen as I observed the man infront of me.

Unintentionally, my hand reached out after he had bend over my head and wrapped around the blonde strand of hair that had been tickling me. I did not yank, I simply played with it, blowing another raspberry because I felt like it.

He seemed to shake with laugther and patted my head softly.

When I looked at him again and suddenly realized why he seemed so familiar, my eyes widened.

And I almost screamed.

The man infront of me was Yamanaka Inoichi, captain of the Intel unit, and a part of the infamous Ino-Shika-Cho trio. He was a smart shinobi and a character out of a manga that I completely and utterly adored. Someone who could easily see when something was wrong with his child.

And there was definitely something wrong.

I shuddered and swallowed the wail that threatened to burst through, because crying after seeing your father's face would raise suspicions.

Still, I thought as he picked me up and poked my nose lovingly ,

I was so going to die.


Ta-dah! This is the prolog of my story! I hope you liked it and do not feel offended by the japanese. Google translate helps but more than often wrecks sentences. So, please have mercy. Still constructive criticism is always wished-for! (^_^) /