Where this premise came from, was how all the SI stories feature a Self/OC who knows the future. But, what if they didn't? What I've done here, is placed a 20ish year old into a 6 year old Sakura. No sudden super powers, and physical chains which will both help and hinder. Add in a Hippocratic Oath sort-of, and a mind that's overly critical, viola. 'Yuurei' her original name, means Ghost, and the meaning is quite self-evident in how she is fading, from even herself.
Yuurei had no last name, she couldn't remember it, if she ever had one.
She did remember other things though.
She remembered a life before this.
A life before where she had black hair and black eyes.
A life in which she had been a doctor.
I do hereby swear to act only in the interests of preserving lives, and to devote myself to the pursuit of knowledge only to save.
I swear to never aim to bring death, only life.
So swear I.
She remembers wearing hospital blue-green scrubs.
She remembers people saved under her knife, and also the few she couldn't.
Grieve, she did, but let it hold her back, she did not.
It spurred her on, actually, the fragility of life made her want to protect it more.
That was why she went into Medicine in the first place.
Her original parents supposedly died in a car crash, and she grew up alone.
She didn't want anyone else to go through what she went through, so she went on into Surgery.
Everything is fading, faces, names, places.
The only thing that remains is her techniques and expertise.
Something that was cheerfully ironic of the entire situation was that one day, she woke up somewhere else.
Vaguely, she remembers something about dying.
She presses a palm to her chest, and she feels the steady beat of her heart.
Her body knows this place well, and she finds herself in front of an old dresser, staring into the mirror.
The face is foreign, and she only knew it was her, because it blinked with her.
A hand raises itself to her hair.
Pink hair.
Detachedly, she analyses her situation.
Pink hair, green eyes, orphan, possibly broke, too young to be in school.
First course of action, would be to find out who she is, where she is, and more crucially, money.
Her legs move on their own, and they tap on a loose floor board.
Her knees bend, and her fingers prise open the compartment.
She has no idea how the currency works now, but the total amount, is about 23 000 ryo.
Considering the smallest coin denomination is 10 ryo, she would, just to be safe, that it was equal to 10 'future' yen.
23 k yen was not a lot.
It would barely pay for rent in her previous life.
Her cupboard has nothing but pants and dresses.
She has no money, so she'll live with it, for now.
Money…
She takes a quick, cold shower, not wishing to incur excessive bills of any kind.
Her hair is still damp, but she ties it back.
She steps out into the road, and immediately, people turn.
Whispers begin, and she somewhat understands her situation.
In the middle of that big road, she feels lost, and small.
A lady breaks away from the crowd, and she notes her black hair and black eyes.
She looks at the child next to the lady and feels the faint stirrings of envy.
He looks happy, loved.
"Sakura-san?"
So my name is Sakura.
"Yes?"
"I am sorry for your loss. The Uchiha clan will always be open to you."
Uchiha.
She bows lightly, "Thank you, Uchiha-sama."
"Mikoto is fine. I knew your parents. They were good people who didn't deserve the unkind turn fate dealt them."
'Sakura' bows again.
"I'm Sasuke! Come play with me some time, okay?"
She hasn't the heart to deny the chipper child, but knows that the 'some time' will be quite far from now.
His fluffy hair is ingrained within her mind, and she feels something heavy on her back.
"I will. Sometime. I must go now."
She can't hear herself that well, but it must sound very much like the young, already hurt child this body is.
Walking down the street, towards the sign which says it's the Grocer's, the sad eyes and condolences follow.
"Pity that it happened…"
"…Always here to help…"
"Bandits attacked the caravan…"
"Fine merchants…"
"…wish you well…"
"If you have any questions, Lord Hokage is waiting…"
Air-conditioning blasts her as she steps through the door of the supermarket.
She does not pick up a basket, she is not here to buy anything.
A loaf of bread is 30 ryo, a packet of 6 instant noodles is 50 ryo.
Bottled water is 15 ryo, and any 6 fruits are 60 ryo.
Turns out 23 000 ryo is quite a bit.
Now, if she could find the Hokage person, who seemed to be a leader of some sort, she would find some answers.
Directions from helpful passers-by land her at the base of a huge tower.
She recognises the word 'Fire' on the building.
The receptionist gives her the same pitying look, but tells her to go straight up, because, "Lord Hokage was waiting for her."
In this world, she finds that there are no lifts or escalators, and she finds herself climbing the stairs.
It's a spiral one, and it seems endless.
When she looks up, the light blinds her, yet when she looks down, there's no end to the darkness.
Whatever it is, her child body of probably 4, 5 years of age is unused to climbing so many flights.
The funny thing is that no one uses the stairs.
Despite how full the building feels, there's no one using the stairs.
Just Sakura, struggling upwards.
Then, all of a sudden, a huge flood of children come rushing out of a door, tearing down stairs.
Children..?
After the crowd of children older than herself rush past, Sakura notes a blond looking sadly at the disappearing backs.
She approaches him, out of curiosity, and out of necessity.
"Hi, could I ask, where is the Hokage's office?"
His eyes snap to her, and she is struck by the brightest, bluest eyes she had ever seen.
He grips her hand in his, and drags her upstairs, shooting off like a bullet, "I'll bring you to see Jiji!"
Jiji?
"Though, why are you looking for Jiji? He's just a boring old geezer, but he brings me out for ramen! He's also nice to me and takes care of my apartment!"
The stairs blur, and she struggles to keep up.
"Oh and you have pink hair, and green eyes! Wow that's so cool! Are they real?"
They grind to a stop outside a grand looking door, and the blond scrutinises her face.
She blinks once or twice, before nodding.
He rubs the back of his head, grinning, "You're super pretty! I'm Uzumaki Naruto, and I'm gonna be the next Hokage! Who are you?"
She smiles, quite bewildered at this hyperactive and sunny Maelstrom.
"It's nice to meet you, Uzumaki-san. I'm Sakura."
He grins again, shoving the door open and holding it for her, "Call me Naruto, Sakura-chan!"
She dips her head in assent, entering after him.
"How was school today, Naruto-kun? And who is this, did you make a friend?"
Hokage.
Tobacco tin in the corner, so he smokes.
Piles of paper, detests paperwork.
Kind towards Naruto, whom apparently others don't like, knows something about Naruto that Naruto doesn't know.
Knows something other people know but Naruto doesn't know.
Really old, possibly forced out of retirement.
It's caustic, mean, but true.
Naruto is chattering the Hokage's ear off, and the Hokage is content to just listen.
I roam about his office, making myself as scarce as possible.
There are 4 portraits hung around the room.
Brown hair, black eyes, red armour, Shodaime Hokage, Hashirama Senju.
White hair, black eyes, blue armour, Niidaime Hokage, Tobirama Senju.
Senju…
Hm, so is the Hokage position hereditary?
Is that why Naruto is sure he's the next one?
Because his grandfather is the current one?
White hair, black eyes, no armour, Sandaime Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen.
Sarutobi? A change of lineage. Did the Senju die out?
Why is the current Hokage the third then?
Especially since there's a fourth one.
Yellow hair, blue eyes, green jacket, Yondaime Hokage, Namikaze Minato.
Naruto looks a lot like him, but the names are different.
Maybe here they take on the names of their mother, which would explain why the last names change.
This is all assuming the Hokage position is passed down from one generation to another.
I'll have to read up on history.
"Sakura-san?"
The wizened old man calls for me, catching my attention.
He shoos Naruto out, saying we're going to be talking about 'boring stuff', and indeed, he becomes all business once the door closes behind Naruto.
The room seems to pulse, and then he smiles kindly at me.
"I am sorry for your loss, Sakura-san."
I meet his gaze unflinching, his words mean nothing.
"Were their bodies reclaimed?"
He shakes his head, "By the time our back up team got there, the entire caravan was ash. The bandits were no mere bandits, they were ninjas, and strong ones at that. There were 2 genin teams with your parents."
"Then I too, am sorry for your loss."
2 genin teams.
He lights his pipe, puffing.
I was right.
"2 jonin, 6 genin. Now, of the original 4 teams who graduated, 2 are left."
2 High-nin, 6 Low-nin.
Then there would be a rank called Mid-nin.
"What happens now, then? Who is running the merchant guild in their absence? What has happened to my parents' wills and assets? Will I be emancipated?"
His eyes show his evident surprise.
"We have a proxy running it in the name of the state. Your parents' had no existing will, but it is understood that everything goes to you, Sakura-san. Their assets, be it property or monies have all been frozen. No one, not even I can touch them, except you, when you reach your majority."
That means no emancipation in this life too.
Being bogged down by the state again.
Tsk.
"Majority would mean when?"
"Either 18 years, or the day you become a ninja."
Ninja?
"Will I be forced to kill people?"
His eyes widen in shock, but he takes his pipe out of his mouth, before looking at me seriously, "You may need to, but only those who accept Assassination missions will be specifically killing."
Acceptable.
"Then how do I sign up? I think I should like to be a ninja."
He searches in his drawers, pulling out a few forms from various places, tidying the stack, then handing it to me.
"Fill up the forms and submit it to the lady at the desk. If you sign up by this week, you can begin classes by the next. You're 6, aren't you?"
He wasn't expecting me to want to become a ninja.
"I guess so. I'm not sure. I can't remember my surname, I can't remember my birthday, I can't remember where we lived. I can't remember what mother and father looked like, I can't remember anything."
A folder is pushed towards me, and his eyes are pitying.
He must believe it to be shock and trauma because of my 'parents' death.
"Haruno Sakura, born to Kizashi and Mebuki Haruno on the… 28 of March."
There's a slight pause before he says my date of birth.
"What day is it today, and which day did my parents die?"
Sarutobi-sama's face is quite grim, and he says it quietly.
"It's the first of April, and your parents passed, on your birthday. My apologies."
I close my eyes.
"It's still not too late for people to jump out and tell me that it's an April's Fool joke, right? It's a sick, sick, joke. I'd forgive you because my parents are alive, so, please don't lie anymore."
A pair of strong, but wiry arms wrap around me, and I open my eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Sakura-san. It's not a joke."
Breathing in, I feel shudders wrack my frame, tears for people I don't know threatening to spill over.
My fists clench, and I calm myself.
The Hokage breaks the comforting hug, looking me in the eye, "It's alright to cry sometimes, Sakura. Everyone cries."
I felt another weight on my back, but I just look at him and smile a tiny smile.
It's alright to cry.
Swallowing, I control my voice.
"May I know who is my proxy, then?"
"I will arrange for a meeting. Please come here tomorrow at 10 in the morning."
I dip my head in thanks, and he excuses me.
Upon getting home, she closes the door behind her and locks it.
She stands sideways to the mirror, and catches sight of a chain.
As if thinking of it summoned it, it lengthens and Sakura can grip it in her hand.
Looking closely, words are engraved onto certain links.
Uchiha, Mikoto
Uchiha, Sasuke
Uzumaki, Naruto
Sarutobi, Hiruzen.
When she stops thinking, the chain retracts, and there are 4 links passively hanging there.
They are a weight, a hindrance, a burden, but how did that translate into those names?
They were acquaintances, and their well-being meant something to her.
They were in a sense her largest burdens, but her greatest strengths.
She thought, and thought some more.
A white chain and a black chain sprouted from her back, but she felt no pain, only their weight.
Life.
Death.
Wherever she was, responsibility would haunt her, just that this time, she was literally being weighed down by chains.