Wunderlindia: "Er, Hullo? Oh! Hi! You're actually reading this, uhm, welcome, to my first attempt at writing. Yes, I know, this has been done all to hell, but I have been wanting to do this, so, I did. So, yup, that's about it. Uhm, bye?"

Lawyers: ahem!

Wunderlindia: "Oh! Right! I do not own Naruto, Masashi Kishimoto does, all I own is Ren Hi, and the thoughts in my head, usually."

'thoughts or inflections'

'summons or biju speaking'

"a shit ton of inflection"

When there are no marks, it's a dream.

My life was never one that others would think of or look onto with fondness. I'd been a shadow for all intensive purposes, a spy. My family was dead. And I had no social life, my forte was more of 'Oh, they saw me, I suppose they have to die now..' and I was okay with that, till I took in a street rat. As cliché as it sounds, that little kid melted my heart, but my organization did not appreciate loosing their best agent, so they did something about it. The last day of that life, I was bustling around my tiny kitchen, making lunch for my kid, it was her first day at school, and I wouldn't miss it for the word, in fact I was rockin' the classic Mr. Mom style, with the pink apron thrown over my shirt and jeans. She had just walked into the room, her dark coloured dress matching her cautious eyes, when the men burst in, pistols with silencers pointed at us. I glanced at the frying pan I had been making eggs with, but before I could grab it in an attempt to attack the attackers, a cold pain spread from my chest and the last things I knew before everything went black was the smell if burning eggs and the scream of my kid.

I shot up in a cold sweat, it'd been a while since I'd dreamed of the past, and I could tell that today would probably suck balls. I glanced at the calendar on the wall, October 8th, great. I shuffled into the bathroom it was maybe 4 am, but I didn't mind, I would need to start going in earlier anyway. I wiped the condensation off the mirror after my shower, it was a cold one so there wasn't much, but still a little bit. I was still surprised when I saw my reflection, the blonde hair and blue eyes I knew so well, the face of an 8 year old Uzumaki Naruto. After my death, I had woken up as he, the hero of the franchise I had so closely followed with my musume, it was like a bad fanfiction. After surviving, barely, the childhood of his, it had lost the impossibility that it had toward the beginning, but sometimes, it still freaked me out. I'm not even going to mention the amount of new scars I'd received since my rebirth, both physical and mental.

In my past life, I had been stoic, yes, but in this one, I had been so completely focused on with such burning rage and hate, that my cynicism and stoicism had been forcefully replaced with a self-loathing and utter nervousness, my sharp tongue speaking only on the inside. Pulling myself out of the staring contest I'd started with the mirror, I pulled on the clothes I'd acquired, a pair of baggy capris that were more length of actual pants on me with the drawstring wrapped around my stick thin waist thrice before knotted into an overly large bow, a singlet that I'd altered so that the straps wouldn't fall off my scrawny shoulders, and a zip up jacket, high-collared and similar to those the Aburames wear, several sizes too large, with sleeves that had to be rolled up many times so that I could actually use my hands, and a hem that fell to my knees. No shoes or socks, my feet hand developed callouses, but bandages were sometimes wrapped on them, when I had some to spare, but those were mostly used on my torso. After my dressing, I quietly made my way out of the tiny apartment, and toward the building in the middle of the village. No one was in the classroom, and no one would be for a few hours, so I made my way to the very last row, the desks on the right, and then, laying on the hard wooden bench, I drifted to sleep.

The smell of smoke, and she was crying? What happened? Why is she crying? "Papa! Papa why did you leave me? I thought you promised! Why?!" Miyu? What's wrong? I failed haven't I?

I shot up once again with the harrowing sounds of a voice now past. No more sleep for me, I checked the nearby clock, I'd slept for an hour, and soon, Shika'd get here. My mind wandered to my relationship with the Nara and of course, also the Akimichi and Yamanaka. I'd met them when I was maybe 3, stumbled into Shikamaru and Chouji's cloud watching time, and they let me stay, eventually Ino had shown up, and though she had commented on me, had accepted me into their bond quite easily. I fit in nicely with them, I was someone who didn't nag Shika, and could give him a run for his money while playing Go, never while playing Shoji though. Someone that Chouji could talk to, without them commenting on his weight or the amount of food he eats, and though he'd usually have to started the conversations we'd have, he seemed to enjoy talking to me. And I was someone for Ino to rant to, I listened, and I counseled her, and though it was something that I would always blush vehemently at, I taught her to sing and braid flower crowns, things that she had begged me to teach her.

I was the perfect addition to their trio, but I knew history wouldn't change for us, and I knew that the day that we'd be separated, was the day that I dreaded with all my heart.

My contemplation of the future was something that I delved into often, but as I could never actually stay still for long, I'd found ways to continue my thoughts without interrupting them; tapping, humming, twirling pens or pencils, and even taking notes during class were things that I had been able to successfully multitask while thinking. This time, I'd started twirling a pen through my fingers, and my thoughts drifted again, this time wishing I could carry a blade, people had been even harsher lately, and it was getting harder for me to walk in the open, the beating from last night could testify to that, adding the fact I wasn't old enough to start my notorious bad habit from my past life, I was pretty tense. What was it you ask? An addiction that I was both glad for and abhorred. Cigarettes. Yeah yeah, they'll kill you, whatever. In my last life, I honestly didn't give a shit about that, I knew I'd probably die before cancer could kill me. In this one, I had chakra, a magical things that supplemented the user with unbelievable abilities, and amazing resistance to such outstanding sicknesses and diseases like those from my past. Being that chewing the skin on the inside of my mouth was easier than obtaining cigarettes at a young age, that had become my alternative, and it did have consequences: despite my ridiculous healing factor, my lips and mouth are heavily scarred.

I was drawn out of my reasoning behind my self-mutilation, by the door to the room slowly being slid open, and though I was sitting at a table, my forehead resting against the cool wood surface, I could tell just when it was that Shika spotted me and laid my head on its side to watch him amble up the row of stairs in between the desks. He and I were always the first ones here, me because it was easier to leave my apartment during the early hours, and him because, and I quote, 'It's too troublesome to be late.' I had actually asked. But during the hour or so that it was just the two of us, we had learned much about each other, forming a tight bond, familial it was. I found out that he hates purely sunny days with a clear blue sky, and he learned of my hatred for the sun in general, among other things that both of us had carefully stored away so that nothing was forgotten.

He was also the only one of the trio that knew of my bad habit of mutilating my mouth, due to catching me wincing as my tongue grazing an open wound a few months ago and being that I was one of his closest friends he asked what was wrong, and then later made me show him the extensive damage I'd done, and had told me multiple times it was bad for me, I had shrugged. Then he'd taken to distracting me, usually with conversation so I couldn't disfigure my mouth further, but other times he'd shove a candy in my mouth. I think he'd actually taken to carrying lollipops and hard caramels in his pockets because of me. Oh well. Free candy. He sighed as he plopped down, laying his head down too, but turning it toward me. His eyes were sharp as they took in my slightly moving jaw and guilty eyes that avoided eye contact, I knew that if I looked at him then, the pit in my stomach would grow exponentially. Finally I shut them, knowing that if I kept them open, I'd be drawn to the look of sad disappointment on his face, my first and closest friend's face, and honestly, though it was selfish, I really didn't want to see that.

A puff of air hit my face, his sigh, I flinched "Hm, why?" I cracked my eyelids open, hoping that he wasn't still looking at me like that. He wasn't, this time it was a look of puzzlement, intense thought and concern, his dark eyes searching my light ones for lies. I froze. "W-what?" My raspy voice stuttered. The concern in his eyes grew at the painful sounding noise that came from my throat. "Why do you do that to yourself? Why do you seem so happy to be my friend, to be anyone's? Why do the civilians hate you? Why are you neglected? Just why you?" I slid my eyes shut briefly again, not looking forward to talking so much in one sitting. I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest, then wrapped my arms around them. I had an hour, probably, to tell this, before anyone else arrived.

My dry rasp whispered to him, afraid of someone else hearing "Th-the answers to your-" I paused to cough some of the sandpapery feeling away "Q-question.. a-are equal parts simple and intricate." Confusion filled his eyes "I do this, because this is the best way to calm the… problems I have.. I'm happy to be anyone's friend, especially your's, Cho's, and Ino-san's because no one's ever wanted me around before. The answers to the last two questions are things that I want to find out myself, I truly have no idea." The strained condition of my vocal chords really showed during this extended answer, I had started quietly talking, but had ended barely whispering, and I felt drained as I finished speaking, and reverted back to laying on the table, the cool wood soothing my warm temperature.

I heard his breathing change in frustration, a minute sigh, then; a few short puffs of air as his eyes attempted to burn into my head. I hadn't given him much information, and it was irritating him, but I knew that if I told him, he'd question how I got the information. A larger sigh blew onto my face, pulling me out of my thoughts, and I opened my eyes once more to see what he was doing. He was studying me again, no doubt seeing my how much thinner my face had gotten, gaze lingering around the high collar of my jacket and I hoped none of the bandages were showing, but didn't try to adjust it because then he'd definitely question me.

The taste of iron brought me out of my paranoid assessment, I'd went back to biting the inside of my left cheek while thinking and had caused a massive wound. He saw the discomfort on my face and outstretched his hand, but quickly withdrew it.

I'd flinched.

He was going to help and I'd just flinched away. It had been a jerk-knee reaction, one that I regretted with all my matter, how could he have known of my recent beating, or my tense caution after all? But I had sat up in alarm, subconsciously thinking there was danger, too fast actually. My back hit the back of the bench harder than I was expecting, and I hissed at the pain it brought all the bruises I had, hand coming up to my mouth in an attempt to muffle it. I heard the rustling of fabric as I fought a yelp that tried to escape. My eyes had been clenched tightly shut in pain, so when a gentle hand eased my hand away from my face I was surprised. He was looking my straight in the eye "Are you hurt?" He hissed with such venom, and was I frankly touched at this, however he was slightly terrifying, eyes like slits, voice dark, and emitting a dangerous aura, so, without thinking, I nodded. "Where." His voice sounded murderous, so I turned without question, once my back was facing him, I undid zipper on the front of my too-large jacket.

All my attire underneath consisted of old dark singlet and bandages, lots of bandages. They ran from my hips to my neck, some soaked in various shades of red, others still pale. I felt him finger the bandages at the back of my neck, no doubt wondering just what had happened.

"You are coming with me. Now." I turned back toward him, confused. "B-but, class-" "You are hurt, badly. This takes precedence." He cut off my protest with a firm tug on my wrist. I quickly zipped my jacket back up, the overly large coat covering everything and making me look tiny as he drug me out of the building, and toward his home. More people were out now, and I saw a few of our classmates making their way to the classroom, but he just ignored them all, deciding to glare at anyone who dare look at me wrong. As we walked through the gates of his clan's compound many people glanced out windows at the normally laid back child that was now furious. By the time we'd reached his home, I was severely embarrassed and my wrist ached from both his grip and a bruise from last week.

His mom poked her head out a gentle smile on her face, then taking one look at us, her face grew serious, and she grabbed a dish towel to wipe her formerly sudsy hands off with. "Maru-chan? What's wrong?" She inquired concernedly, "Okaa-san. I need your help. Ru-chan is hurt. Allot." He stated. His voice was full of pain, like he was the one hurt and I guiltily looked down, sorry for causing him this pain. I started chewing on my lip again. Yoshino Nara glanced at his face before ushering us toward the kitchen, and Shika pulled me to the table. Yoshino-sama picked me up gently and sat me on the table, my back facing the edge, so she could get at my tiny body easily. I just sat there as she went to grab a first aid kit, still biting my lip as Shika watched his mother race around. He climbed up onto the table too, sitting cross legged in front of me.

I couldn't look at his face, so I stared at his hands. They were small, and pale, with callouses just starting to form. I glanced up as he sighed. He wrapped his skinny arms around me, pulling me close, into, a hug? I had never noticed just how much smaller I was compared to him. He was thin, average height, but compared to me, he was tall. I pressed my face into his neck, I was confused and everything was a whirl of emotions, but I wouldn't cry. I owed it to the original, I owed it to my kitten. I brought my hands up to grasp onto the front of his shirt, and we sat there as Yoshino-sama collected her materials. Soon a first aid kit, bowl of warm water, and dark hand towel all sat on the area next to me. She pulled up a chair to sit in, and then gently pulled me from her son's lap. "Maru-chan, Ru-chan was it? Needs to take off their jacket." She spoke to him easily, using neutral pronouns for me due to the fact that I was pretty ambiguous, and Shika undid my coat, and she slid it off my thin body. Her fingers traced the bandages at the back of my neck, and though I couldn't see Shika due to my eyes being clenched shut, I heard his intake of breath at the way my torso and arms looked, though, I'd blocked his view of most of it, so he wouldn't be able to see just how thin I was, but it was a great thing he wasn't seeing my back.

"May I?" Yoshino-sama asked, and I nodded, not very excited because I knew that some of the blood would've dried to the cloths by now, and it was going to hurt like hell. She started unraveling them at my waist, and I tensed as they were pulled off numerous wounds, biting my lip to keep in cries of pain. Hands found their way to brush against my face, and I quickly grasped one of them with both of mine, needing something to hold onto, and opened my eyes to make contact with Shika's caring ones. His eyes hardened at my pain, and withdrawing his hand from my face, stroked my hands as a distraction. It helped, but I still flinched sometimes as the bandages were peeled off. Once she reached a particularly nasty part that had me holding back tears, Yoshino-sama started humming a soothing melody, I took a deep breath in, she was getting closer to my shoulder blades, where most of the damage had been done. She quickly unwrapped me, knowing the faster this went, the sooner it would be over, and I was so grateful for it. With every layer, she revealed horrific scars and massive bruises, and the wounds that leaked my red life fluid. However, as soon as she tried to peel away a section that was dyed a dark red, I let out a sharp cry. That wound had been a pain in the ass to wrap, and now there was dried blood sticking the cloth to my damaged skin, and it hurt like hell. Before I could bite down on my lip, Yoshino-sama handed me a wad of fabric, I was to bite down on it as she ripped the bandage off quickly. She grabbed a kunai to attempt to cut off whatever was left around my torso, most fell as she finished slicing, but the piece on my shoulder remained. I bit down as she ripped it off, then, there I sat.

The only bandages left were the the ones around my neck, covering what I knew to be horrifyingly dark bruising. "A-ano, Nara-sama? I would prefer to remove those myself.." Shika's face was blank. Completely emotionless as I untied the knot around my neck, revealing dark bruising all around it. I sat there as Yoshino-sama disinfected my wounds, and bandaged them. He watched the process carefully, observing any pain carefully, and gently squeezing my hand in reassurance as I winced. Yoshino-sama soon finished, but I couldn't turn to meet her gaze, Shika had engaged me in a staring contest, a look of hurt, guilt, and desperation in his eyes, asking me nonverbally why I hadn't told him. Though I wanted to tell him, I couldn't, so I stared back, eyes full of pain and sadness. We stared, his hands still gently stroking mine as he sat there for several minutes. And then, he could take it no more.

With a sob, he gathered Me in his arms, embracing tightly, and I lost the fight I'd been having with tears. They made their way down silently, unlike Shika's loud, heartbroken sobs. I felt longer arms wrap around us both. Yoshino-sama. She pulled us to her, our small bodies fitting onto her lap, and cradled us in deceptively strong arms. That's when I lost it. I whimpered quietly, and soon quiet sobs were heard as well, I was nowhere near as loud as Shika, but the small melancholic weeping caught their attention as both wrapped me up in their arms as I clutched onto Shika's shirt. As Shika and I calmed, Yoshino-sama wiped our tears gently, and soon we were just barely sniffling. She set me back on the table, facing Shika and her, I stared at them as they examined me.

"Who did this." Surprisingly, it wasn't Shika's cold voice from earlier that asked, but one that came from a hallway behind me.

I'd flinched at the unannounced inquiry, it wasn't unkind, but sharp, with an edge of authority. And before I could turn to look at the man that was Shika's father, he was standing next to the chair Yoshino-sama and Shika were in. I blinked as his piercing gazing found my eyes, the tiniest surprise showing, but I assume that's because as far as he was informed, Namikaze Minato had not born any children, and yet here was a kid with eyes that looked oh so similar. And Kushina's face. Just what was going on here?! Seeing his slightly credulous face and racing thoughts, I got off the table, opting to standing closer to the door. "Who. Did. This." He repeated, and this time I took in a breath to answer with "A-a I f-fell? I-it's fine, r-really! D-don't worry about me. I-i'll figure something out, u-uhm, th-thank you for tr-treating me, Nara-sama, and i-if you will excuse me Nara-sama a-and N-Nara-dono, I should…." my weak defense and escape were utterly destroyed at the sight of all three Nara's glares. "Bullshit Ru." Shika commented, "You have possibly the best reflexes in the academy, and you expect me to believe you fell? Try again." I avoided eye contact. I wouldn't let an innocent child become bitter toward people who needed someone to blame. Shikaku's eyes gained an understanding glint. "It was them wasn't it?" I frantically shook my head "N-no. I-it was all me." He looked at me with that sad understanding look, and I couldn't, I couldn't lie. Not to my best friend, to the family that had only just met me and was so considerate, to me, the village pariah. "N-no, I'm sorry, you were right… I'm sorry, j-just d-don't hurt them, please!" I bowed to them as I pleaded. 'Please, please, please! Don't ask, stop pushing..'