Author's note: Like the summary says this is going to be a self insert fic. I'll try to balance between being as realistic to my own self as I possibly can and being as least boring as possible. This was largely inspired by the many incredible SI fics I've read on here like Dreaming of Sunshine and Catch Your Breath, etc.

I've got a vague idea of where I want to go with this but.../shrugs. Again, like the summary says, this is a WIP so read at your own risk.

Waking up I can feel nothing but confusion and pain. My body feels so sensitive, every noise roars like thunder in my ears, to the point where I can't hear myself scream. This unbearable discomfort goes on for ages before it is interrupted by a cooling sensation that envelops my entire body. The calming touch soothes my overworked nerves and it's only then that I realize how tired I am.

"There, that must be better."

"It is. Thank you so much."

"Think nothing of it, Uchiha-san. All newborns take a little while to get adjusted."

I open my eyes but everything is blurry and incomprehensible. I open my mouth but the words I want to say come out as unintelligible noise. A white, fuzzy shape moves in front of me and I reach for it instinctively. It feels warm and soft and I hold it tight, desperate for any clue that would help me understand what was going on.

"Look at that grip! She's going to be a strong one, I can tell."

The thing in my hand starts to struggle and I pull it back with a grunt of effort. The weakness in my limbs frightened me. My blurry vision was somewhat understandable – without my glasses I'm blind as a bat – but my inability to speak and my lack of strength was painting a rather disturbing picture.

"Ah, it seems that she likes you quite a bit."

"You think so?"

"Let me try, let me try-"

I'm jarred by a sudden push and I cry out.

"Careful! Here, gently."

Another shape moves closer and I'm attracted by the heat I can feel rising off it. I unconsciously let go of the object already in my hands and make a grab for it. Once it's caught, I run my fingers over it carefully. It feels smoother than the last one. Smaller too.

"She likes me, too!"

"Yes, she trusts you already. We must try our best to earn that trust, Shisui."

I'm caught off guard as the new shape brushes against the entirety of my left cheek.

"Yes, father."

The noise running in the background comes to a stop and I blink curiously, turning my head to try to catch the retreating sounds. I had been tracking the noises from the beginning, but there was no pattern to the frequency or pitch of the sounds so I had devoted more of my attention to the floating objects. I regretted that decision now.

Any clue as to where I was became more precious when I realized how few there were – and how easily they could be taken away.

Days pass and I learn the limits of my endurance were far larger than I had ever imagined.

I had always been a timid, cowardly soul and if you had asked me before if I could have handled being taken from my home and being made blind, deaf, and mute I would have laughed in your face.

Now I can only laugh and cry.

Well, internally that is. I don't know how much of my thoughts I can actually communicate since every attempt has been a humiliating failure. I still try, of course. All I can do at this point is try.

That first day I established two things.

One, I was definitely sick with something. Something that crippled my body and senses until I was reduced to a bedridden lump that could only wail and whimper and grab at things clumsily in order to interact with the world.

Two, I was being cared for by at least two beings. I assumed they were people, because really my sense of reality was already shaken enough by my sudden loss of autonomy to consider any supernatural alternatives, but the size difference between them and me was undeniable. Whatever they were, they seemed to be gentle giants and I appreciated the thoughtfulness and effort they put into my treatment. I could only imagine how terrible my current condition was and how unappealing I would be to care for. In return, I tried to be as undemanding as possible.

"I'm a little worried, Mikoto-sama. Ever since we brought her home she's been so...quiet."

"Really, Kagami-san, you should be grateful that she's such a calm and easy baby. Itachi ran us ragged that first month."

"So this is normal, then."

"Yes, perfectly normal."

"But what if...what if her being quiet is because she knows that we're not…"

"What, her real family?"

"..."

"Kagami-san, you are her real family. Uchiha blood ties you together as intrinsically as any other family bond."

"Yes, I know…I just can't help second-guessing myself."

"That concern, more than anything, proves that you are her father."

Days become weeks and my senses return to me little by little.

My hearing becomes a little more fine tuned and I realize that what I initially thought was just noise was actually Japanese. The fact that I'm able to make sense of something is relieving but knowing I'm stuck in what appears to be a Japanese facility raises more questions than it answers.

Some time after that, the vague, indistinct shapes I see start to resolve themselves into distinguishable colors and forms. But I was too shocked at what my sight revealed to enjoy its return for very long.

My caretakers weren't giants. I was just incredibly small. No, upon closer inspection, I wasn't just small. I was a baby.

What set of circumstances could revert me to babyhood!? I was not a religious person, but even if I was, wouldn't you have to die in order to be reincarnated?

My last memory was sleeping off the stress of an absolutely grueling schedule of papers and finals. I had been looking forward to my first real summer in ages, one free of classes as I finally had enough units to apply for transfer. Did all that studying finally get to me? Did I overwork myself into an early grave? Did a fire start in my house and was I so sleep deprived that I didn't notice the flames consuming me?

During my mental breakdown and mini-existential crisis, I didn't stop cataloging all the new pieces of information my sight was giving me.

I could finally put faces to the identities of my caretakers. One of them was a young man, probably in his late twenties, though he was handsome enough that I guess he could have been older and just blessed with good genes. The other surprised me because he was just a little boy. Younger than my littlest brother even – no don't think about that, don't – at maybe five or six at best. They both had dark, curling hair, pale skin, and blacker than black eyes. The eyes gave me pause. I didn't think black was an eye color that naturally occurred in humans. The darkest eyes I've ever seen were still a shade of deep brown. And from how often I was raised to eye level for them to coo at, I had plenty of up close and personal shots of their eyes to judge that there wasn't a trace of brown in their irises.

In hindsight, I was probably trying to focus on as many minute and inconsequential details about my surroundings as I could to distract myself from the fact that I was a freaking baby.

One day, those distractions weren't enough.

Oh god, I'm never going to see my family again.

Never going to tease my dad about him going senile, because I'm not even going to be there to see him go senile – never get to argue or play with my brothers again – never get to make up with my mom...I'm not even going to be able to see who I could have become…

My entire future is just...gone.

I started to hyperventilate at this point and even seeing the man frantically try to help me was not enough to get me to stop. What was the point of being good, of acting nice, when you could spend your whole life doing everything right and still have it all taken away from you for no fucking reason.

In my fragile, infant state I probably would have died from my panic attack if the man hadn't brought me to a hospital so quickly – and if I hadn't been confronted with a doctor's glowing, green hands.

What. The. Fuck.

"What happened to her?"

"We're not sure. All her vital signs are normal, she appears to be perfectly healthy."

"Check again."

"We have, Uchiha-san, and the readings have all been the same. There is nothing physically wrong with your daughter."

It wasn't enough that I had to question whether or not I had been reincarnated, now I had to deal with hands that glowed in motherfucking technicolor?

On the way back from the hospital, I turn my head to get a better look at my surroundings. A few weeks ago my sight wasn't developed enough for me to notice anything and earlier I was too preoccupied during my mental crisis to bother, but now I stare at the unfamiliar-yet-familiar landscape in dawning realization and growing horror.

Strange buildings, people wearing mesh and bandages and distressingly familiar green vests, and worst of all, the heads carved into the face of a fucking mountain?

Dorothy, you are not in Kansas anymore. No, you've left Kansas and motherfucking reality to fall into the depths of a shounen manga you stopped reading in your goddamn preteens.

Shell-shocked as I was by the discovery that I had been reborn into a children's cartoon, I made note of the fact that there was only four heads on the mountain. That gave me a rough idea of where I was in the timeline. Just had to know who was wearing the hat to know if this was pre-Kyuubi or after.

My caretaker taking me through the gates of a fan emblazoned compound was enough to bring me to actual, big, fat, baby tears, however.

Reborn only to die in what, maybe ten years?

The months after that were the darkest point of my entire existence. Debatably worse than thinking I was crippled with some life-threatening disease, for sure.

Realizing my caretakers were named Kagami and Shisui and piecing together from their tou-san and nii-chan baby talk that they were my family was just adding more shit to my crappy pile of problems.

I couldn't say I loved them yet, I certainly didn't think they could replace the family I had lost, but how can you not develop an attachment towards people who cared for you day-in and day-out and exclaimed over your every action with such unadulterated joy? At the very least, I realized that if they met as dark an end as canon intended I was going to be stranded in the Naruto-verse with absolutely no support.

But was I brave enough to go up against Danzo and Madara and try to prevent the events of the Uchiha massacre from happening?

What difference could I make? A twenty-one year old girl who hadn't even graduated from college yet, hadn't even been brave enough to take her goddamn driving test, hadn't even thought about picking a verbal fight with anyone in her entire life, let alone a physical one...what could I do?

Author's Note: I actually am on my summer break as I wait to transfer from my community college to a four-year university so this is as real as it gets, folks. Updates will be quick as long as my inspiration and schedule see fit to cooperate. I like to post art for my stories, so if I do, be prepared for it to be on AO3. It'll probably be announced in one of these author notes.