Chapter One: In the World of Supermen

Being a baby and being mostly conscious of the process is probably the most humiliating and frustrating thing to have to live through. When you're a baby, you can't do anything but eat, sleep, defecate, and cry. Maybe roll around a bit if you're lucky and bored. I hated crying because all it did was make me tired, and more upset because it hurt my eyes and my throat. So I avoided crying as much as possible. The only acceptable times to cry, I had decided, were when I was hungry or needed to be changed. It surprised Biwako, my new mother as I'd learned to accept slowly, since she was a medic nin who worked in the maternity ward. Even I knew it wasn't normal for a baby to be as quiet and (sort of) behaved as I was, but I didn't care.

My primary goal was sorting things out. It took some time because my brain couldn't keep up with my ambitions. I kept exhausting myself out even trying to think in small bits. Not only that, but my thoughts were incredibly fuzzy at first. It was there in the back of my mind, everything was, but it was like I was stuck for a long time. Whenever I tried too hard to tap my old memories, it was like star bursts went off behind my eyes and someone was trying to stab me in the brain with needles.

The first time I did that, I shrieked for three minutes straight and spent hours after whimpering piteously in misery. It had scared my parents enough to get me examined by two other med nins besides my own mother to figure out what was wrong. Thankfully, they didn't find anything wrong. After that, I didn't try any deep thought or remembering for at least a year. I worked my way up to it by simply considering surface thoughts and passing feelings as they occurred to me. Once I'd worked my cognitive functions into a satisfactory state, I started trying to puzzle out this world I'd ended up in. Not that I didn't already know my fair share about this world.

This was the world of Naruto.

(Although, for all I knew, it could've been some sort of Naruto convention where everyone took cosplaying to the extreme.)

Things might have been more obvious if there had been a spiky blond haired kid running around screaming "dattebayo" all over the place. It might have also made my life easier if the little punk was in fact running around, because then at least I'd better be able to judge just when in this world I'd landed and what was going on.

See, the thing was that Naruto didn't even exist in his own world yet. How I knew that? Well, all I had to do was look at the faces of my new father and his students to figure that out. Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Sandaime Hokage, the Professor, the God of Shinobi, the Old Man, was my father. He was also, astonishingly, not an old man but a fairly young one. They all were very young. My eyes nearly popped out of my tiny skull when I saw the teenage Orochimaru with them for the first time. (Ew... His skin really was that pale...) It was hard, being in the same room as the guy, knowing what he would do.

Basically, I knew that if people who were pushing their fifties in the show looked like teenagers now, the primary Naruto cast weren't even twinkles in their parents' eyes yet. Dear God, their parents might not even have been born yet. With how young Jiraiya was, it certainly seemed possible Naruto's weren't.

When I tried harder to remember what was happening around this time, I really started getting worried by how little I did know. My mental cataloging of the time line started with breaking it into two parts: BN (Before Naruto) where I was now, and AN (After Naruto) which was the time period covered extensively by the manga and anime. I had a vague knowledge of previous wars, of which I knew there were three. The first had happened when my father was younger than he was already, during the formative years of Konoha. So that left me with living through the events of the second and the third.

I wasn't going to even bother thinking about what would happen in AN, because was it even possible for me to survive, as civilian or ninja, that long? Knowing my luck, I'd probably survive the wars only to end up Kyuubi chow. Seriously. How did these people deal with all this impending doom?

It also made me wonder about what I was feeling.

I wasn't really afraid of dying in this world, honestly. I had died once. A second time wouldn't hurt right? And sure, I would have preferred living peacefully, maybe having another go at the teaching thing someday. However, was that a practical plan in this world? Especially considering who I was?

And who was I really?

It was very strange, having spent almost two decades as an average person in a world of technology, and then suddenly being reborn as the daughter of one of the most important people in the world of ninja. I was afraid of the uncertainty, of the change. Where I spent most of one life fearing being alone, being unhappy, this new world had new problems I'd have to deal with before I could even start thinking of things as trivial as happiness or companionship. The only things the two worlds seemed to have in common were horrible wars and shitty politics.

Except in this world, wars were fought by men with superpowers instead of by men with machines.

Agonizing over my existential crisis kept me busy for years. My new parents were constantly driven to worry by how silent and moody I would be. It made me feel sorry for them. They were probably expecting their first child to be normal. A child that would be a joy to have despite the natural troubles that came with raising children. Instead, they got me, a child that kept exhibiting disturbing behaviors and rarely expressed any care for them. I tried for some semblance of normalcy for their sakes but couldn't deliver.

I knew the reputation of these people who were supposed to be my family. Killers. Hell, my father was supposed to be the so called god of killers. My mother was a medic nin, but her hands could take life just as easily as they could save it. Then there were the Sannin, my "uncles" and "auntie". They didn't have that title yet, but who knew what else they'd already done?

Over time, I think all of them realized at one point or another that they made me uncomfortable. Touch didn't soothe me; in fact, I was agitated when they tried to hold me. I was the necessary amount of obedient when I needed to be fed, changed or clothed so interaction lasted for as little time as possible. As soon as I had developed my motor skills enough to drag, then crawl, then walk myself, I'd a find a nook easily accessible to a child, but hard to reach for an adult, and squeeze myself into it. I'd only leave it when I needed to relieve myself or eat the food they'd leave out on the other side of the house as a blatant ploy to lure me out of my hiding place.

The relationship between my parents and myself during that time could have been likened to that of pet owners trying and failing to get their particularly anti-social cat to warm up to them.

Only, since I was their child as opposed to a pet, my rejection stung them a million times worse.

That distance I put between myself and them only became more pronounced when my mother gave birth to another child. His name was Aito, and unlike me, he was born perfectly normal. He giggled when they played peek-a-boo with him, cuddled into their arms as they held him, and cried over anything just to get attention. My parents loved it. It felt like a slap to the face when I puzzled out the meaning of his name. Affection. My parents had named their newest child for a quality they desperately wished from him. What they'd always wanted from me but I'd stubbornly refused to give them out of my own discomfort.

Guilt overpowered any hurt feelings I had. I remembered how I'd been the one to make the decision to leave behind my old life for a new one. Why had I been so quick to discard that excitement and acceptance?

Fear.

It had been fear, not of the unknown, but of what I did know. Who was I, really, to judge these people based on that? Just because I had a superficial knowledge of their world and of them didn't mean I understood. Even if I didn't like it, I should have respected the fact that ninja were part of their culture. The existence of ninja was vital to this world. They served not only as assassins but as protectors to the people who depended on them. While I knew people like Orochimaru would go bad (and even then, did I really know that?), others like my father and Jiraiya had dedicated their lives to peace, even in a world built on violence and deception. They cared so much they had sacrificed their lives for it.

And I'd spent the last year and a half spitting on that, wrapped up in my internal prejudice.

I was officially an idiot.

That was when I decided to start making things right.

I think I gave my mother a heart attack the day I crept into the nursery and sat at her feet as she rocked Aito. Which was strange. She was a ninja. She should have sensed my presence long before I'd announced myself.

"Nanako, what are you doing here?" she asked, grimacing a moment later at how surprised and suspicious she'd sounded.

There'd been a time in the beginning that she'd really tried to mother me. She still tried, but not with nearly the same fervor and sweetness she had before. As a baby, my grumpy expressions and babbles had been something to coo over. When I became a sullen and avoidant toddler, and my babbles became just monosyllabic responses when addressed, it was less cute. I stopped being her little Nana-chan and just became Nanako. She started treating me more like the little adult I acted like I was.

I tried to smile like I hadn't noticed her tone. My smile weakened a little more at how stunned she became at my smile, but I pushed on, pointing a stubby finger at the baby.

"Aito," I said, pausing at how squeaky I sounded. There was a reason I didn't speak much, "May I... see... my otouto?"

I wanted to facepalm.

Another reason I didn't talk was because I was borderline illiterate in Japanese thanks to being asocial.

After a moment, she nodded, reached down, and pulled me up into her lap. I fought the urge to squirm out of her grasp. I promised I would make an effort for all of them and I was going to follow through with it. She pulled me in so I was snuggled into one side of her while Aito was tucked into her arm on her other side. It gave me a good look at him.

There was nothing very special about Aito at first glance from any other baby. He was swathed in a beige blanket, and all I could see of him was his pudgy face poking out of it. His eyes were brown and drooped shut every now and then despite the fact that he was trying very desperately to stay awake and see who had come to visit him. There was the smallest bit of hair on the top of his head, standing up in such a way that it foreshadowed the messy spikes he'd one day possess thanks to his father.

Something shifted the minute he managed to open his eyes wide enough to stare back into mine. I know it was probably normal for a baby, but he looked at me like I was the most important thing in the world. I didn't remember my little brother's birth from my last life. If he had turned such wondering, guileless eyes on me, I would have been unable to ever fight with him. It was like everything went away as I looked at this baby, my little brother. Who looked at me like I meant something, everything, to him.

The moment didn't last long. A yawn pushed through his tiny mouth, and his eyes slipped shut for good as he dozed off. I took that opportunity to reach out and touch him. His head was soft and warm and so small, even in my own small hand. Such small ears, such a small nose. I made sure to be very careful because I knew my mother was scared I could hurt him if I got too rough. There was no need to worry though. I wouldn't hurt him. I'd protect him. I'd love him.

This was my baby brother.

I stopped my petting and looked up at my mother who stared down at the two of us in awe. I pushed myself to give her another smile.

"Made him... perfect, Kaasan," I spoke softly to her, "Thank you."

My mother chose that moment to burst into tears.

Let me say this: just because I'm female doesn't mean I'm any better at soothing crying women than a man would be.

In a panic, I scrambled away and went running down the hall to my father's study where he spent an hour or two around this time of day sifting through paperwork and smoking. The minute he saw me, he was out from behind his desk and kneeling before me, asking what was wrong.

"Kaasan," I panted, short of breath from my hall sprint, "I don't know... what I did... now she…!"

I mimed frantic tear tracks down my cheeks hoping he'd get it.

He scooped me up into his arms and moved us quickly back to the nursery. My mother was still crying, but the minute she saw the two of us with our panicked and confused faces, she started laughing really hard.

"Biwako, what's going on?" my father asked, bewildered as he looked back and forth between her face and mine, as she tried to quell her laughing.

"It's nothing, dear," she said, using the back of her free hand to wipe the lingering tears from her eyes as she continued to chuckle. "Nanako just thanked me for making Aito."

He blinked. And then a goofy smile spread across his face and he nodded in understanding. His eyes fell back on me, and I shrunk under his gaze a fraction but maintained eye contact.

"Well, it was very nice of you to thank your mother, Nanako," he told me, smiling at me before looking at my mother again. "Have I ever thanked you for making Aito, Biwako?"

"I don't recall if you have," she replied playfully. "But I certainly wouldn't mind if you did now."

"It's horrible of me to have shown so little appreciation to you," he bemoaned dramatically. He moved to her side and dropped one of the arms he was using to hold me so he could lay a hand on her cheek. "Thank you love, for making both of our precious children."

I knew I was being mocked, but I didn't care. My eyes decided then to start watering and my lips started to wobble. I hid my face in my father's neck and willed myself not to cry. I think my parents could sense I was having an emotional moment and did their best to soothe me.

Soon, I was practically falling asleep in my father's arms, feeling drained by everything. My child's brain probably wasn't used to that kind of emotional strain yet. I barely stayed conscious long enough to feel him carry me to my bedroom and tuck me into bed. It had been a while since either of my parents had done that for me, since I had let them. Feeling bold, they each bent down and kissed my forehead and my heart ached at the sensation I thought I'd never feel again. They whispered their goodnights and left me with my chest full of twisty warmth.

That night had only solidified my wish to do right by my new family.

My family who called me precious.

How could I have known then, that my simple wish had damned me?

I had one more year of uninterrupted childhood. In that time, I spent most of it trying to be an actual child. It was easy to be a kid, now that I had Aito to spend time with. The more childish and doting I was with him, the more giggles and toothless smiles I got.

We'd go out the the garden with whoever was babysitting us and if I could talk them into it, I'd get them to give Aito pretend airplane rides through the air. He'd shriek with joy and flail his arms until he was deposited back onto the ground with an exhausted sigh. I think those moments may have been the most content moments I'd ever had in either life.

My parents, Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru were bewildered by my sudden attitude change. They were all smart enough to be suspicious of such a drastic change in personality, but I think they were too happy to question it all that much. I was young enough to rationalize my previous "weirdness" as a phase.

Jiraiya was the first of my father's students to take advantage of my new found friendliness. He'd visit a lot and would play funny games with Aito and me. Even if it made me feel foolish to play kiddy games, I appreciated it when people took time to spend with us no matter what we were doing.

I think I liked him most though, because he would sit with me and show me how to speak and read in Japanese once I mustered up the courage to ask someone for help. I felt like I was seeing echoes of the future, when he'd write his own little short stories in his horrible handwriting to use as practice reading material. Nothing like the Icha Icha series, but it was a start. I couldn't wait for the day he'd write the Legend of the Gutsy Ninja

(I promised I'd be the first to own a copy.)

Orochimaru, not to be outdone by the others, always brought a box of dango when he visited as a bribe. Genius he was, it had been easy for him to pick up on the fact I tended to favor the chadango sticks. He started getting more of those each time, thinking he was subtle. One time, I'd opened the dango box and found only chadango. When I looked to him, he gave me what I thought was a wink with his strange yellow eye.

(I made an effort to thank him politely instead of running away.)

Being around Tsunade proved to be as complicated as being around Orochimaru, for different reasons.

Every time Tsunade came by, she usually brought company. That company tended to be either her boyfriend Dan or her little brother Nawaki, who was currently a student at the Academy. The first couple times I saw them, my chest would seize up and it felt like I couldn't breathe. It wasn't just knowing that they would die that made me so upset. It was knowing how little time there was before they would die. Knowing how their deaths would affect Tsunade. Knowing how much she would grieve for them, how her grief would turn to bitterness towards Konoha.

This Tsunade was different from that Tsunade, and different even from the Tsunade that was touched by Naruto. She was happy. She was in love. She loved. She was just so vibrant in her youth and innocence. And Dan and Nawaki were key in keeping her this way.

It wasn't hard to see why.

Dan was charming and kind, and loved Tsunade just as much she loved him. Together, they shared the dream of creating a better Konoha that deserved the chance to be fulfilled.

Looking at Tsunade and Nawaki was like looking at my relationship in my old life with my little brother. Sometimes it seemed like all they did was bicker and tease one another. However, when you stepped away from that, you saw how devoted they were to one another, how Nawaki admired his sister and Tsunade supported her brother's dreams.

I know it was really silly of me and I don't know why I thought it was supposed to have helped anything. Still, I felt like I had to try something. And at the time, what I'd had in mind had seemed like a good idea.

So I did something.

It was evening in the summer several months after Aito's birth and Tsunade and Nawaki had decided to come out for dinner with my family. That was when I made my move.

"Tsunade-hime?" I whispered as I approached her on our way out.

She stumbled as she took a step, stopped, and then stared down at me, looking as if she felt like she'd just imagined me speaking.

"Um... piggyback ride?" I tried for bashful puppy dog eyes.

For a moment she was stunned and disbelieving, then her lips quirked up at the ends. Step one, success. She stooped and let me climb onto her back and let my arms circle her neck. Then her arms went underneath my legs, making sure I was secure.

"And away we go!" she cheered to me.

I couldn't help a giggle at Tsunade bubbliness. There was a bounce in her step as she carried me. Nawaki ran circles around us talking all about his day at the Academy and how he'd totally beat the Hyuuga kid next time they did class spars. My parents followed the three of us at a more sedate pace. Aito had been left with a nanny for the night, and while I usually stayed at home with him, I had something important planned for tonight.

"Race!" I suddenly exclaimed, craning forward so I could look at Tsunade pleadingly.

A devilish smirk touched her lips.

"Good idea Nanako," she said slyly. "I bet we'll beat the brat there by a mile."

"Oi!" Nawaki squawked, "No way I'm gonna let you beat me there nee-chan!"

"Oh yeah, shorty?" Tsunade taunted, "See you when you come in last at the finish line then! And don't worry, we'll try not to eat all of the food before you get there!" She paused and fell into a crouch. "Hold on tight Nanako!"

I didn't even have to pretend I was frightened at the fact we were now soaring through the air, bounding from rooftop to rooftop. The way ninjas jumped, it was as if gravity didn't matter. It reminded me of those old sci-fi novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs and how the difference between Earth's gravity and Mars' had been so different, a normal Earth step on Mars was like a jump on a trampoline. It was magical and thrilling experiencing it now.

But if I fell off of Tsunade, I was going to scream bloody murder before I became a smear on the pavement.

My arms tightened a bit around her neck, and as she was busy throwing insults over her shoulder at Nawaki, who was doing his best to catch up, my fist clenched the cord around her neck and pulled. It came loose and I waited anxiously for a reaction. Nothing. The blonde kept arguing with her brother and keeping several paces ahead of him despite the fact that they could have left him in the dust a while ago. As inconspicuously as possible, I tucked my prize into the pouch I kept in the sleeve of my kimono. Step two, success. I then let out a whoop and urged Tsunade to go faster. Grinning, she did, and Nawaki let out a cry of frustration from where he was far behind us.

It turned out to be a mostly fun night after that.

Tsunade and I were as thick as thieves once the race was finished and we had declared ourselves the uncontested winners. We enjoyed our victory during dinner while Nawaki pouted. My parents watched it all with fond smiles, and ordered Nawaki a little extra dessert to soothe his bruised ego. Just as our group was ready to part ways and head for home, Tsunade gave a cry of distress. My parents and I turned to see what was wrong. Her hands grabbed at her throat, the collar of her white top, and then traveled down her body as she patted herself down.

"What is it Tsunade?" my father asked her, concerned.

"Tsu-nee-chan can't find ojiisama's necklace!" Nawaki exclaimed, looking as upset as Tsunade did.

My dad frowned. He understood the significance of the necklace to the Senju siblings.

"Can you remember the last time you had it?" he asked her gently.

"I know I put it on this morning!" Tsunade answered, tears in her eyes, "I think I had it on when I sparred with Sakumo-san earlier today too. I just don't know where I could have lost it."

That was my cue. Step three of the plan.

"Tsunade-hime. My fault," I said, my voice full of regret, "During racing. Pulled it loose trying to hold on. I-I'm s-sorry."

The guilt I felt was real, just not for the reason she thought I felt guilty. Tsunade melted when she saw my eyes water and my lip wobble. She knelt down before me and placed her hands on my shoulders.

"I know you're sorry Nanako. I was going pretty fast, so I don't blame you for getting scared. I can put in a D-Rank mission for a genin team to try and find it for me."

"But what if they don't?" I sniffled.

"Then I'll get over it." She managed a sad, but reassuring smile for me.

"I'll help too," I promised, "Look every day!"

"Thank you Nanako," she said gratefully, and then pulled me into a hug, "I appreciate that."

Step three, deflect any suspicion, success.

We all said our goodbyes again, Tsunade stopping to give me another hug and Nawaki patting me on my head, and finally went our separate ways for the night.

It wasn't until my parents had tucked me in and gone to bed themselves that I got up again and went to retrieve the pouch. I pulled it out of the kimono sleeve and dumped its contents out into my palm. There, sitting in my hand, was the First Hokage's necklace. I felt bad about taking the necklace from Tsunade, who cared very much for the memento of her grandfather. Still, I was superstitious enough to try anything at this point, to keep Dan and Nawaki alive. I'd hold onto it until I was sure it was safe enough to return to Tsunade. Like after the second war.

On second thought, I probably shouldn't return it to her until she became the Hokage.

(If she ever does.)

I pulled the loose floorboard from under my bed up, and pulled out the box I kept there. It had been my secret place for the last six months now. In the box were some crudely drawn pictures and papers with lines and funny symbols on them. They would look like nothing to an adult who was perusing them with only mild interest. Someone looking hard enough would realize that the drawings, if looked at right, were a code. In English. More often than not words had been swapped out for symbols that looked innocent enough. Foxes, toads, monkeys, trees, tadpoles, rainclouds.

This messy collection of drawings and scribbles was in fact my recording of everything I knew or recalled of the Naruto show and manga time lines. I knew the longer I stayed alive here, the more vital it would be to remember the events to come. I hadn't quite made a choice yet on whether I was going to try and take an active role in changing anything, but I could at least make sure I was prepared for when certain events would unfold.

I lifted the necklace so that the glimmering green stone was at my eye level.

This had been my first test at seeing if I could change something. It was a small change and could possibly do nothing in the long run towards saving Dan and Nawaki's lives. But I could hope. And I could continue trying to help in whatever ways I could.

A creaking somewhere in the house startled me. Quickly, I dropped the necklace into the pouch, put the pouch into the box, and then hid it all safely back under the floorboard before I skittered back into bed. As I began to drift off, I made plans for dragging my mother and Aito into the village at some point so I could find something to give to Tsunade as a temporary replacement for her necklace.

It would certainly go a long way towards soothing my guilty conscience.

My entire plan concerning Dan and Nawaki didn't end with the necklace.

The second war came upon the village not long after my fourth year in the ninja world. While my parents never explicitly told me war was happening, it was easy to tell considering how rare it was to see my father's students around the village those days. Seeing any ninja higher than genin rank these days was rare. Those three were probably being deployed to the front lines since they were some of Konoha's strongest ninja. I was always scared they wouldn't come home, but I reassured myself that they were strong and that at least Jiraiya and Tsunade were looking out for each other.

(Although it was weird to admit that after four years of observing Orochimaru, I had seen no obvious evidence of the crazy, homicidal body stealer he was meant to become. Other than his overabundance of arrogance, snake fetish, and horrible fashion sense. He actually seemed to care about my father and his teammates. And he was nice to me, which only made it weirder, and made me actually feel bad for being so creeped out by him on the inside.)

I had turned four and around the same time Nawaki had been rushed through graduation to genin rank due to the war increasing the demand for more ninja. I stressed myself out thinking about how unprepared he probably was because of that. However, I reminded myself that there was no way I could demand for Nawaki to be held back just because I was afraid he would die. People would just laugh at me and tell me that people died every damn day.

So I found other ways to help Nawaki. I practically stalked him whenever his genin team was in the village. I'd cheer him on during training, pester him into reading me a book on theoretical mission strategy, and give him gifts like storage scrolls, spools of ninjawire, smoke bombs, or medpacks. It was all meant to subtly make him more prepared for whatever he would face while out on missions.

His teammates, an Akimichi boy and a girl from some clan I wasn't familiar with, teased him ruthlessly, misunderstanding what I was doing as the behaviors of a little girl with a huge crush. Nawaki, bless his heart, took it in stride. He simply claimed that they were jealous they didn't have fans yet and then he'd give me a grin and pat my head as I'd stand there in mortification, sputtering and red.

So after sorting out Nawaki, I turned my focus on Dan.

Which had me knocking my head into a wall trying to figure out how I could save him. Jiraiya, Tsunade, and Orochimaru at least were all together. Who did Dan have? I had no idea, and I couldn't trust just anyone to protect Tsunade's boyfriend. Not only that, I didn't know when he was supposed to be killed. His death came after Nawaki's, but if I had put off Nawaki's death, then how was I to know when Dan's would come?

The largest obstacle I ran into turned out to be my lack of familiarity with the man. I was just the daughter of his girlfriend's genin team teacher. It was better than being completely unrelated, but seriously, how did I associate with him in a way that wouldn't be awkward? Nawaki had been easy because he was a kid. All I'd done was walk up to him and ask him to be my friend and boom, instant friendship. My mother, who became ecstatic over every social interaction I had with anyone, vehemently encouraged the relationship and spending time with him. I didn't have that kind of advantage with Dan.

I just... didn't know what to do about him. There wasn't anything I could do. Like Nawaki, Dan would fight for his village no matter what anyone said. You could tell him to be careful all you wanted, but in the end, it would make no difference either way.

Dan could be poisoned or disemboweled by puppets on the Suna front. Dan could be crushed by boulders or buried alive fighting Iwa. Dan could get hit by wildly thrown kunai and bleed out in a puddle in Ame.

The point was, Dan was a ninja. Ninjas died every day in whatever gruesome way they did. He chose this path, and if he was a good ninja and extremely lucky, he wouldn't be killed. Nawaki, who was just a sweet boy with big dreams, who I thought I had already helped, could still die as well no matter what I did.

When I came to that realization, I started crying for the first time in a long time. My father who had been in the room at the same time, came over at once to see what was wrong with me.

"I don't..." I sniffled. "I just..." I hiccuped. "I don't want anyone to die!" I sobbed.

All he could do was pull me into his arms so I could bury my face in his shirt and not have to look at the sad expression on his face.

It had been growing inside of me for a long time.

This unease.

Different from what I'd felt before when I was simply scared of everything and everyone. Now that I wasn't scared of them, I'd become scared forthem. My family, for the moment, was safe. As Hokage, my father would be home and wouldn't be sent out to the battlefield unless things became truly dire. He was strong and I had faith in him to come home to us if that ever happened. I saw less of my mother lately since she was busy running the hospital without Tsunade's assistance, constantly healing ninja coming home damaged beyond belief. However, I also knew she too would at least be home for that very reason. Then there was Aito. Sweet Aito, who was too young and too far away from everything to understand any of this. I could probably sit and tell him all about the fighting and suffering going on out there and he'd just blink at me with his wide curious brown eyes and then blow spit bubbles at me.

The problem was that there were others I now cared for.

Where my little island had started with just me, it had been forced to grow a bit to accept my family in. Then others had come and invaded my space as well. There was Jiraiya and Tsunade. Then there was Dan and Nawaki. I'd come to hesitantly include Nawaki's team, Chouzu, Meiko, Kanda-sensei, and even Orochimaru, whose current humanity still baffled me. I couldn't shake my attachment to any of them, and as I grew to care more about them, I grew to care about who they cared about. Everyone had loved ones. Everyone had people they didn't want to lose. These bonds tied all these people together.

Bonds were both great and terrible things.

If anyone stopped to think about it, most of the things that would go wrong in the far off future would be because broken bonds had driven people mad. Itachi and Sasuke's bond. Kabuto and Nonou's. Nagato and Yahiko's. There were so many others pushed to madness thanks to the love they had for another.

However, I reminded myself, there was a light in the darkness.

There would be Naruto.

Naruto, who made strong, unshakable bonds. Who inspired people to rise above their pain and misery. To fight for peace. I'd been skeptical once. How could one person, one little spiky blond haired idiot with a chip on his shoulder and a demon in his belly, change people's hearts like that? How could he fix the world?

The answer lay in my own mind.

It's called a God complex, thinking you can control events, control people. That you are above failure. Not even God can fix the world.

Even with a veritable guidebook to the world of ninja inside my brain, I couldn't fix everything that was broken. I was only one girl and there was only so much I could do even with the resources I had.

There was one thing that I did have, though.

Love.

My father had tried to tell me many a time about the Will of Fire. That love, love for one's village, would make you strong. I didn't know if I believed in that, because I certainly didn't have love for the village like he did. I had, however, come to love him, and my mother, and Aito, and the people I'd become close to in this life. Love had always come easy to me when I had been someone else. It seemed even now as Nanako Sarutobi, even if I hesitated at the cliff, the minute I allowed myself to love, I would leap even if there wasn't steady ground on the other side to land on. It was dangerous, but I couldn't help it. I loved and I could believe in that love.

That love for my friends and family would help me weather the future that became more and more uncertain as my resolve locked me into my chosen path.

Steeling myself, I lifted my fist and knocked on the door. I heard the person inside the room murmur a quiet "come in", and then I let myself in. My father was seated behind his desk wearing his official robes, though he left the hat off to one side. The surface before him was covered in paperwork. He seemed so weary as he looked at me, the lines around his eyes, mouth, and forehead more prominent. Still, he lit up when he saw me.

This would not be an easy conversation. I pitied him for having to have it in such a state. It had to be now though. I could not allow myself to lose my nerve.

No more necklace stealing. No more chasing around genin marching off to war. If I was resolved to change things, I couldn't keep going about it the way I had been with negligible little things here and there.

"Tousan. I have something important to tell you."

"Oh?"

I couldn't fix the world, but I could try my hardest to make it better, to take some of the burden off of Naruto's shoulders when his time came. I owed it to him as much as I owed it to the people I loved.

AN: I'm going to attempt to only make comments on the chapter since I have a bad habit of getting sidetracked in my ANs. To start, the dreaded infancy, toddlerhood and childhood parts of this story. Yeah, I'm going to blow through those because I am an impatient bidoof. Nanako's pretty much already four by the end of this chapter. I tried to do some justice to the mental and physical development of children, but it was a little half-assed. I'm still laughing to myself at how I've rendered her mildly illiterate because she's scared to talk to people. I'm going to endeavor to make Orochimaru less of the butt of my jokes and jabs in the future, but he makes it so easy. Um... what else is there... foreshadowing, I do it? I'm probably going to be dropping foreshadowing comments throughout this story because I technically wrote the end before I even started at the beginning, because I'm an ass-backwards writer. OH WELL.

The next chapter will be up in about a week and a half to two weeks. Hope y'all are well.

Japanese terms glossary (added 9-5-2013):

Aito: affection
otouto: little brother
kaasan: mother
dango: round sweet dumplings on a stick
chadango: tea flavored dango
hime: princess
nee-chan: sister
ojii-sama: grandfather