Somebody's gotta stop me, I just keep on getting ideas and ideas man.
Whatever. I don't own Naruto, obviously, and also do not own any other shows/universes/pieces of fiction that are referenced either. To be honest this fic is mostly just self indulgent and a need for something non-serious. Or at least, not too serious.
Enjoy. It's a bit messy though, so. Meh.
Death had not been kind.
But then again, when had it ever been?
This was not the first time they had been reborn, and they were fairly certain this would not be the last.
So lives, so many worlds – names, places, people, families, stories.
It had screwed them so up so much they couldn't even remember whether they'd originally been a girl or a boy. The lines between each gender had blurred; they'd been so many that were getting tired fixating on one that they just didn't care anymore. It was giving them a headache trying to figure out who they were now, but they had to pull through.
They exhaled noisily. At least they think they did. It felt like it.
Maybe they'd be both this time, just like how in their last life they'd tried to honour every single life they'd passed by accidentally gaining a split personality disorder. That hadn't worked out so well – they could confirm this with certainty from the memories of a padded room of an asylum they'd been thrown in and the sleek straight jacket they'd been forced to don.
What had they been thinking when they came up with that idea? Nothing, probably. Their mind had been a little blank back then, changing from one person to the next, memories rising and fading away as quickly as they came. It'd been a giant mess, that one – a giant bag of horseshit.
Stopping the reminiscing before it could do any more lasting damage to her admittedly fragile state of mind, they hummed pleasantly, finally deciding that in the current moment as they awoke from the time warping, mind fucking, black soulless void that was death, they would be a she. She was fairly familiar with scoping out her own biology, that even as just a baby – and a newborn at that, by the cool kisses of air against her skin – she could tell that she in fact did not have a dick down there.
Yes, she was quite positive that she had a uterus.
This was good. The life before her previous one she hadn't even had any reproductive organs. It was terrible, really. Wait, no, that made her sound like a sex addict. Her life hadn't terrible because she didn't have sex organs and therefore couldn't do...it (the childish immaturity she had clung to save her any semblance of sanity giggled cheekily), it had just been just a terrible reincarnation in general.
She had hopes for this new one, expectations that she knew there was at least a twenty percent chance to be met. But considering her luck...
Man, she'd be lucky if she even made it past the age of nine this time. Her memories were foggy – she'd died and been reborn so many times, lived out so many lives that it was excruciatingly hard to keep track of all of them. She couldn't remember how old she was now, there was too many years that she'd have to add on, something she wanted to avoid. The only real clarity was that her first death – the one that she had thought was end to everything – had happened when she was fifteen.
That was one of the few things that stuck. She'd held onto that one detail aspect for so long – as she encountered new worlds and lives – many again that she did not remember – because if she let herself get too carried away with counting the years she feared she'd grow bitter soul crushingly tired. After living so many lives, losing so many people, on their end or hers, it was a miracle that she hadn't tripped over the edge.
As the years passed and the worlds changed details were lost in the background; faces became misty and voices hazy, location warped and she was unable to name a time and date. She held onto the bits and pieces that were most important.
Her first time, she'd been born only to die seconds later, a mere heartbeat or two or three, senses overloaded, nerves on fire as the process of dying and being reborn overwhelmed her to death.
She had her hopes but luck had a nasty habit of playing against her. She didn't think she'd ever made it past the age of thirty two. She sighed wistfully, before greedily sucking in gulps of air.
It would not bid her well to die so soon and because she'd forgotten to breath to concentrate on thinking.
(however, if she did happen to die again, it wouldn't be that great of a loss. As much as she disliked the process, death did not scare her, nor did she fear it.)
If she could she'd lift her hands and rub her eyes, but as she couldn't, she grunted, pouted, and let her weary mind fall into oblivion. Death, after mercilessly whisking her mind around like it was eggs like it usually did, left her sleepy.
Tomorrow would be the day she'd deal with the rest of her problems.
For now, sleep.
