Distorted Reality

Summary: Death was supposed to be permanent. I never expected to be reborn in this strange world of trained assassins I know absolutely nothing about…

Author's note: This is how I would see the ninja world, had I not known about Naruto before. So maybe it's a bit of a self-insert, but I'm channeling that part of me years ago- that silly me who used to be oblivious to manga and anime, and was content to be. *cringe* So if a girl who does not know about the Naruto series 'falls' into it, what do you think would happen? She is not armed with even the barest of knowledge, bewildered about her fate and her surroundings.

Inspired by Silver Queen's "Dreaming of Sunshine" and "Only A Moron" by swabloo, though this one is very different from those in it that because I did the supposed Number One No-no. Just wait and see. I'm an idiot.

Chapter 1

Death is life's next great adventure.

They say that just before you die your whole life flashes before your eyes, but that's not what happened to me.

It was unfair, really. Death came upon me in one fell swoop, cleaving everything from me.

What I was, who I was, and it was all ripped from my hands the day a car slammed into me. I was with my best friend then, crossing the road, idly chatting with each other. I had felt so content and at peace then.

A car is suddenly upon us, and I forcibly shoved Claire away, and then tried to lurch to the side. I would never forget that searing heat and the sense of floating.

For that moment, I had thought I was flying, the feeling of being lifted, thrown by an invisible force and the feeling of heat searing through me. Someone screams - was that my best friend? – the earth revolves, turns upside down and sideways, and darkness begins to creep in the peripherals of my vision. Everything was dreamlike, turning hazy and I felt distant, detached from my surroundings.

Staring into the vast blue sky, I began to idly ponder how I had never appreciated its color. There was never a time that sapphire color looked so beautiful. The clouds were majestic, floating, cruising in that endless blue veil, rulers of the sky.

A face obscures my rapidly disappearing vision, and I begin to grasp for tendrils of memory that just tease me in my head, giving vague recognition. Claire, I try to form words with my mouth, but nothing comes out. That beloved familiar face was contorted in shock and anguish as screams continue to echo distantly, a plea for help.

Why did you do that, you- you idiot! She is screaming hysterically, alternating between calls for help and crying at me.

Something wet lands on my cheek, and I stare into eyes the color of coffee. They are shining and wet, disbelievingangryanguished and I frown, willing my hand to rise feebly to her cheek. It does reach her face, but I was beginning to have a hard time concentrating, and that wetness in the back of my head, that sticky sensation in my hair….

No, no, no her voice was pleading, and I distantly caress that face. Claire, that beloved friend through years of trial and tears. Other voices were beginning to add into the cacophony of sounds. I heard my other friend's choked gasp and someone gently lifts my feeble, broken body.

They laid me on the flat surface of the stretcher, the others moving quickly and efficiently. Claire and Lenn, that other friend, were on either side of me. I would never forget that rather humorous expression on Lenn's face, and I inwardly chuckled that of all times to shock her, this happened. It was the first time I ever unsettled her from her deadpan personality.

Everything was losing clarity, and their faces quickly became pale white blurs in my eyes, something wet drips on my face; Claire's tears. She hovers over me and would not let go.

She and Lenn are the last things I see before darkness rose from the depths, and carried me into oblivion.

I was roused to a lulling, calming sensation of being in a familiar, watery place. Everything had that droning, soft noise that made me sigh in drowsiness. Everything was rather red and pink and liquid.

With that, I would have been contented to remain like this forever, safe and happy, at peace in this safe environment. Compared to what happened next, it was certainly better.

Something tight and squeezing pressed down on all sides of me, a frightening, startling sensation that I cried out. I absently wondered at the high, infantile wail that left my lips as I was being forcibly shoved out of this watery cocoon.

After moments of bewilderment and struggling, I began to wonder if this is what they call 'oblivion'. Everything is red and blurry, and then white and some humanoid blurs holding me. I felt frightened, so small and vulnerable and I could not stop the cries that left my lips. It felt instinctual.

Thoughts spun wildly in my head. Was I still alive? Did I survive? Did I get brain damage? It could explain my horrible eyesight as I tried to make out what I was seeing to not much avail, and how my limbs seem to be unable to answer it properly, just giving uncoordinated, awkward struggles.

"Be quiet, child." A man's cold, hoarse voice cuts through my thoughts, and I actually stop crying. A woman's soft, yet tired voice seemingly chastises the man, and I am suddenly in warm, gentle arms, being held carefully and soothingly rocked.

I began to feel drowsy yet again, and before my lids slid shut I could have sworn I saw such odd, frightening white eyes stare into my face before sleep claimed me.

Being an infant was one of the most unsavory experiences of my life. I cried all the time and my mother had to shush me to my relatives' displeasure. Life became a routine I mindlessly followed, withdrawing into my thoughts as they took care of me. It was easy following infantile instinct, anyway. It forced down on me, taking over my movements and my moods to my great annoyance and panic and anger. Feeding, crying, being held, and generally being an annoying infant continued to be my preferred activity until I was able to stand and walk… and take care of myself, which my family insisted on doing as soon as possible.

As soon as I was able to do all that, my mother was distanced away from me, and I was placed in a part of the family compound for young children.

Later, I figured out with a jolt all that happened to me.

At first, I refused to believe such ludicrous ideas. I died, then I was born into the world again, from what I assumed as the woman, who I believe to be my mother in this then current existence, crooned gently to me.

Maybe I wasn't supposed to remember my past life, but a fluke had happened. Or maybe the gods had it out for me...

Shizuka, Shizuka, and then I was confused with the language she had spoken. It seemed to be Asian, and maybe Japanese from what Lenn, my friend from that life torn from me, used to blast in my ears. My friend had loved anime and manga, and was known to try to learn Japanese, often dragging me with her whenever I was not busy.

There was a time when such dark, malevolent, horrifying intent filled the air, choking me. I wanted to scream and run away, look for the comforting caress of my mother. But I could not. I was in my room, and I was not allowed out unless told to. I was an infant back then, and I was screaming. Someone then rushed inside my room, sliding open the shoji door and there were loud, piercing screams of 'Kyuubi' which I did not know about then. The Nine-Tailed Demon Fox had attacked, as I had read later when I was able to understand the writings or the kanji.

I was thoughtful about it then, and was wondering what it was. This gave me something to ponder on.

I was in Japan, I had thought as I began to recognize the styles of the clothing we were supposed to wear, and the food we had to eat.

Deciding to just learn to live in this strange place, I set about going along with my other cousins' usual activities. I was generally known as a quiet girl (my name certainly fit me), rarely speaking and when she did, it was in short, formal, clipped words. Japanese phrases I picked up. It's not like my family spoke too much. Actually, they were too formal and quiet…

This was still hard to learn, though, even with my meager understanding of the language. However, I did grasp things easily and quickly with other things, as I was studious and intelligent in my past life (I still don't know whether to cry or laugh hysterically about that). Too studious and intelligent for my own good, you may even say, as I did not do much other than read or write, and solve problems.

Maybe if I had been more exercised and fit in that life, maybe we could have avoided that car much quicker. I was not fat by any means in that life, though I had been a bit weak physically.

Now, though, my small body seemed more graceful, lithe and coordinated as I grew, and I gradually began to grasp the language, albeit a bit slower and more careful to speak than the rest of my strange white-eyed cousins who I had to eat with, read with and… this is what is truly interesting, train with.

I was well and truly astonished at what the people here were capable of, and I was worried when I learned I was in a village called Konohagakure, the Village Hidden in the Leaves, in the Land Of Fire. I had never heard of a place called Konoha in Japan, or even a Land Of Fire… And I was beginning to think this was not my old world, with the abilities I could see from the people.

My older relatives could walk on walls, trees and water -and were capable of doing strange, at first I had thought magical abilities. Who could do elemental jutsus at my old world? None.

What really frightened me was when I learned that we were a ninja clan, and in a ninja village. Ninjas, trained assassins of yore in the old world could not even begin to do what people here can. Walking soundlessly and with lethal grace could be easily achieved with chakra if you can control it well.

The Hyuuga clan, as the strange family was called, had silver eyes (I was surprised to find that my own was silvery as well, with the barest hint of blue) that was supposed to be the kekkei genkai of the clan, or the bloodline limit as I read in the scrolls I could read at seven, though I learned most from my older relatives. They were traditional, and cold and impassive. We were expected to be the same, even as children. I had been distanced from my mother as soon as I could stand and walk, as I mentioned.

Oh, and did I mention that lovely division of the clan? There was a main house, though I did not see them often as I was a branch house member. The main house was somewhat the royalty of the clan, while the branch was the vassals and servants from what I feel. We were expected to train at three, and become protectors and servants of the main house as we grow up. We were usually given the Caged Bird seal at the age of nine. It was supposed to give the main family control over us, and I was horrified to watch a family member writhe on the ground clutching his temples as he had done a transgression against Hiashi-sama, the clan head.

Peachy.

Our fighting, or taijutsu (somewhat equivalent to martial arts, is it?) was focused on utilizing the Byakugan, the bloodline trait of our clan. I had not activated it until the age of six, when we were expected to at least be able to hold it for a few minutes. It was astounding, being able to see all around you, your vision piercing through objects and into the far distance. We can also see chakra and its pathways in the body, and that was where Gentle Fist came in. It was named as such because with even one gentle push into your tenketsu, or chakra points in your body, could disable you and cause great pain once it impedes the chakra flow. It still looked odd to have veins bulging around your eyes and in your temples, though….

We did those ordered, precise movements called kata at the tender age of three. They were, as an older cousin said, the basis for our clan jutsu and kekkei genkai. We were drilled mercilessly then, and I grasped the movements and logic behind them far more easier than my cousins the same age. Maybe it was because of my then-older, more mature mind (Ok, maybe not by much I died a high school junior), or my continuous experience with solving problems and using logic. So, I was startled at having to work so hard at three, though I never had much hardship and was inwardly pleased to do something.

It was exhausting work, but we all had to get used to it.

My new body had helped even more, and I had marveled at the flexibility and potential of everyone in my family, or clan as they say. I was the fastest learner, other than another, cool-eyed, aloof cousin. We were often pitted against each other during practice, sparring sessions that seemed far too advanced for our age when we were four.

Neji was stronger than I was, his strikes held more power and potential damage in them, but I was faster, flowing, weaving around his attacks and targeting the weak points, jabbing that odd chakra into his tenketsu. He was more powerful by a small margin, and I dreaded fighting with him sometimes. He was too good at finding my weak points and openings, though I was good at finding his as well.

Every match often ended in a painful, nerve-wracking sensation at points in my body as I fought to stay upright and keep my face neutral. I was proud, though, beginning to feel the effects of mental conditioning in my personality, and even though I dreaded fighting him, I hated even more to lose.

One of my worst flaws was pride, even in the old life. Even then, it was not obvious, but sometimes I feel mad at being shown up though I laughed it off then. But now, we were expected to be controlled and ruthless, and I could not stop the fury burning in my eyes at the thought of defeat. I was also not willing to accept I made a mistake, especially when Neji was the one who corrects me, as we were the same age and both considered prodigies.

(And I took out some of my frustration, anger and grief at having left my former life at my 'cousins' who I fought with cold, calculating anger. I am not fully a good person, so don't blame me.

Did I really do that bad? Don't go around pointing fingers at me.

I thought I would live forever too.)

I had learned to listen to those older, stern relatives, though, because the punishments for impertinence were horribly painful, even when I was not yet branded with the Caged Bird seal.

He did look rather sorry after the matches, apology in his eyes barely veiled by that coldness we all had to conform to. But, I still felt cold, smoldering anger at my loss even with his apology. At the rare times I won, I felt rather guilty for smirking at him rather than looking apologetic like he did when he won and I was barely standing. This continued on for years.

Ah, chakra. I remembered that odd feeling of something coursing within me, something I could grasp and was keenly aware of for my first few months of life, though I could not say I am a sensor. I guess that was why my control was better than most, though at first I had inhaled sharply in shock at two years old at controlling it, away from the watchful eyes of my relatives in the safety of my room, not that I could avoid them with their dojutsu.

I had held my breath and tried to pool it in my hands, and it just sort of… flowed with ease. It had glowed a light blue, pulsing and flickering in my hands, and I put it out, drawing the odd energy back inside.

They had known, at the end, and had begun keeping a close eye on me for my unusual advancement.

My father, Hyuuga Hoheto, took this all in with an almost greedy glint in his eyes. I never liked him much to begin with, he was too cold and callous, even to my mother, Haruka. It's good that I never really had to see him all that much, because he was a jounin (the supposed highest rank a ninja could go, the elite).

I continued on playing with manipulating my chakra, and it did help when we had to learn the basics of Gentle Fist and moved on to more advanced things.

We were enrolled into the academy at the age of five. Class was not too hard back then, especially the academic portion. I was a bit happy to actually learn something familiar- something that could have been learned at my old world- math, science and history, though it was a bit different.

It was a bit unnerving, though, as I noticed to subtle hints of desensitizing us to be trained killers, though at our first year it was barely noticeable. Iruka-sensei spoke of great heroes, people who died in the line of duty for our village and we were amazed, awed and beginning to desire fame and recognition as well.

I studied and trained feverishly, wanting to be more acclimated to this world.

I'm turning into a perfectionist. Dang Hyuuga brainwashing.

I read about the Hokages, the legendary figures who protected our village. Shodaime, Nidaime, Sandaime, Yondaime, all of them were immensely and astoundingly powerful, from what I read. I felt a bit sad for the Yondaime, though, who was supposed to have died protecting the village from the Kyuubi.

It was surprising for me to learn that some of the other students had no earlier training, other than those in the main clans of Konoha. I don't know much about the other main clans, other than what I could read about- the Hyuuga, Uchiha, Aburame, Inuzuka, Akimichi, Nara and Yamanaka. I was not really able to go out of the compound out of initial wariness and because of having no time due to training, so I could only access the lower clan archives and my cousins' textbooks (if I was lucky).

They never elaborated much, other than the abilities the other clans were known for. The Uchiha Sharingan was interesting, and rather similar to the Byakugan though its abilities were different, in a way. The Aburame was rather unnerving with their bugs. Inuzuka had canine companions and partners for their clan jutsu. Akimichi, Nara, and Yamanaka generally worked together and were in a pact to help each other. Their abilities were respectively for taijutsu, ninjutsu and interrogation if you look at the potential.

There was also kunai-throwing and other projectiles. It was challenging at first, having to target the center, and I missed a few times during the first few lessons. I began to figure it out using physics and math though, and how to throw at a certain angle to hit the targets. I practiced at the training grounds with simultaneously hitting multiple targets. After days of frustration and almost-tears (and some arrogant cousins scoffing at me), I did it.

We were not yet tackling the subject of ninjutsu, though the theory and concepts were explained and drilled into our young (ok, maybe not mine), impressionable minds. And, of course, simple chakra control exercises.

Taijutsu was something I truly excelled at. The strategy, evasion and defense, striking at an opponent's weak points, gave me a thrill of battle that I began to adore (which is ironic; because in my old life I hated conflict of any sort). We also had to do drills similar to gymnastics (to my amusement and sadness. Claire loved gymnastics) that left many of us with sore joints and muscles.

To my chagrin, though, I was often pitted against Neji during sparring, us being the top students in our year. When we sparred, we were allowed to use the Jyuuken; but against other opponents, it was rarely allowed. So I had to endure painful chakra disruptions and disablements against Neji. It was hardly any fun after the fights.

We were both considered prodigies, and I heard people wondering why we weren't accelerated in class. I asked Neji once, and there was the barest hints of bitterness in his eyes as he replied, "The clan, Shizuka. The clan."

Frowning, I murmured, "Well, you're the best out of the two of us… at least they have to promote either one of us." He had just stared at me blankly, and walked away.

As I began to learn more about this world, growing dread creeped upon my heart. In this world, wars were possible and common, death was an everyday, known occurrence, mortality rates were frighteningly high. Living in a world of trained assassins, I was humbled inside and felt small, vulnerable.

What would happen to me?

It's not like I have a choice in the matter. It is my obligation to protect the clan. I have nowhere else to go. They are all that I have.

I had never seen Hinata-sama often until when we were six, and we were Branded earlier than the others, Neji and I. It was supposed to control us, the two prodigies, and make sure we do not get in over our heads. At least, that's what I think it is.

After all, the smart ones are hard to control.

Searing, mind numbing pain like no other engraved into my mind as a main house member began to perform the sealing. I fell to my knees screaming, and I writhed against the harsh grasp of the man. Nearby, I think I had heard Neji cry out as well, and as I lay, my head faced to the side I saw him crumpled on the ground as well, panting and gasping as he fought against the man who was sealing him.

Chakra, burning, dangerous chakra was forced into my system and I fought the urge to wretch. It continued for minutes, and I had never wanted to die so bad then… I continued on writhing, screaming and my head tossing and then, I got a glimpse of the heiress.

She was a small, lovely, delicate thing, Hinata was. Standing just behind her father Hiashi-sama, her eyes were wide and horrified as she saw us forced to the ground by the pain. Hinata looked like a porcelain doll, with the milky white skin of our clan, delicate features usual in us females made even more pronounced in her face. Her eyes were the loveliest shade of light lavender. Her hair was the elegant shade of midnight blue, cut short and with the hime bangs framing her face.

The horror and sympathy in her overly expressive eyes made me wonder if all main house members were as cold and ruthless as some of us branch members think. As I stared at her, she noticed me and quickly looked down, hands twined together, small form trembling so quick, like a hummingbird.

I was suddenly grasped in a vice grip on my shoulders and forced to stand as the pain began to ebb. To my side, a man, Hiashi-sama's twin, Hizashi-san, was gently holding Neji even as his twin looked disapproving.

Neji then met my stare, and there was clear exhaustion in his eyes, and he nodded slightly, with weary acknowledgement.

A week later, Hinata-sama was kidnapped. Pandemonium broke out in the clan, and we were all in a panic as the kidnappers fled. Hiashi-sama killed the kidnappers ruthlessly, cold fury burning in his eyes.

We were all relieved as he then carried the shaking Hinata back to the clan.

Later, Kumogakure, the Village Hidden in the Clouds demanded Hiashi-sama's head for killing their ninja. Hizashi-san volunteered out of supposed love for his brother, and he had died.

I wonder if he even thought about what would happen to Neji because of that.

Neji stopped looking sorry and innocent when he was seven, and that practiced, forced coldness became true to him, became him. He was bitter, cold and calculating, and no longer began to hold back for our fights. I could not fault him for being angry all the time though, especially at the main house. His father had been taken from him, when he no longer had any other.

I was having a harder time fending his harsh strikes off, even though we were the supposed two tensai in the clan. So I resolved to train harder then, feeling like I have to catch up to him for my own good. Being quicker, more graceful and precise did not help against him because he was extremely quick and fluid as well, and his strikes were really painful… I exhausted myself just evading him a lot of the time.

And then came the age to appoint either one of us as Hinata's formal protector. We were to conclude it in a fight before the main house- no holding back. While we had to do it, the one who had lost would be the 'secondary' protector;

This was decidedly not good… not that I would ever enjoy working for a house of arrogant, insufferable elders and the clan head. Now that's just troublesome.

Maybe Hinata would be tolerable, though, and I dearly hoped she is not like the other main house members. There is only so much I could handle before I lose my temper with these beloved relatives.

But fighting with Neji… all-out… was something that even I, with a head start in maturity and mental age, was truly intimidated at.

I remembered something that Claire said, and smiled.

You're an idiot, girl. You don't have to be the best, just be content in the knowledge you gave your all.

AN: I'm a brat… well, from what I gathered when I was younger (like 8-10), I was. I used that aspect of my personality here, because I am ashamed to admit that I was a prideful person when I was younger.