Title: What Are The Chances
Summary: If, against all odds, you were born and if you died on the same date, the same time, and the same manner as a soul from another world, you were given a chance to live that soul's life instead. What are the chances of a girl from our world finding herself in Sunagakure? An SI from a newbie fanfiction writer.
A/N: Twenty more reviews? I feel like I could faint! I hope that this next chapter is sufficiently long for those who mentioned the length of the previous ones, and provides enough information to answer some of the questions that had been brought up. Thank you to vantweet as well for spotting the errors I made in grammar and spelling in the previous chapters! This is why I should try to find a beta…
Disclaimer: I don't own nor make profit from Naruto.
CHAPTER TWO
When I had finally been cleared to receive visitors, the first one to arrive was a young girl named Mayumi. The faded memories I had of Kiyoko's told me that she was supposedly the closest thing I had to a best friend. They had not really called each other as such, but it did not need to be spoken. Since they had met in Sunagakure's orphanage, the House of the Sun, they had drifted towards each other naturally, and even when they were asked to attend the Academy, they had not let go of their friendship.
Mayumi was soft-spoken and shy. When she had arrived in my hospital room unannounced, carrying a rather wilted bunch of flowers, she looked like she'd rather melt into the sickly yellow walls than talk to the nurse that had just finished checking up on me. As she approached me shyly, carrying her drooping gift like she expected me to reject it outright, I smiled at her tentatively, wondering just how Kiyoko had been able to earn the friendship and loyalty of someone like this.
Since memories that did not really belong to me did not serve as an adequate replacement for seeing Mayumi in person, I took the chance to scrutinize her appearance. In a way, she rather reminded me of the canon Hinata with the way she fiddled with her hands and stuttered while speaking. Despite their similar personalities though, their appearance could not be further apart. Offhandedly, I mused that if I had been placed in Mayumi's body instead of Kiyoko's, I would've wondered if I was not truly a Mary Sue written into the Naruto universe by the hand of Death. Her appearance, even as an eight-year old child, was arresting. Where Hinata had the palest white eyes, Mayumi had the darkest black. The former's purple hair would have clashed with the peculiarly sunny blonde of the latter's. If ever there had been a chance for them to meet, it would have been interesting to see the dichotomy between their features superimposed with their comparable personality.
Faint recollections of quiet talks and bonding moments that consisted of making tea and doing chores in the orphanage made me realize that she and Kiyoko had been the perfect friends for each other. Neither had expected the other to start or carry a conversation when there was nothing to say. Kiyoko had been quiet too, but it was not due to shyness or timidity. Instead, she had been observant and calculating, and these traits, she used to protect the girl who had been so prone to being abused by others.
When someone would skip doing their share of the chores, knowing that Mayumi would quietly finish it anyway, Kiyoko had been the one to stop her and to bring the matter to the people in charge. When the other kids had promised retribution because of that, Kiyoko had launched herself at them, scratching and kicking and biting them into submission. Afterwards, when they had retreated into their corner of the orphanage, Mayumi had been the one to take care of her scratches and bruises.
Remembering all of these things made me predisposed to liking the girl from the moment I saw her, even if she, out of everyone in Kiyoko's small circle, had the biggest chance of noticing any glaring differences in my behavior. Her eyes had widened comically when she took in the bandages across my chest, so I forced a small smile for her. "How have you been while I was gone?"
"S-shouldn't I be asking y-you that, Kiyoko-chan?" The stuttering made her reply almost intelligible, and I noticed that she had avoided my question. Still, it wasn't like she'd hide anything from Kiyoko, so I let it pass. "How are your w-wounds? And the p-procedure?" Even the smile felt like too much effort to maintain, so I slipped back into an expressionless face.
"I'm fine now, though yesterday, my wounds were still very purple." Well, that sounded wrong. I meant to say that it hurt, but my mind couldn't focus on the correct word. "Er…purple?" I tried again, frowning in consternation as Mayumi looked like she wanted to laugh. "Purpose! No…" The only benefit of embarrassing myself because of the refusal of a single word to come to my tongue was that Mayumi was looking more and more comfortable in the hospital room. "Paaaaaay… Painful!"
She appeared amused but sympathetic to my plight. "It's a-alright, Kiyoko-chan. The n-nurses outside had mentioned that s-speaking might be strange for you." A hand roughened by countless hours scrubbing the floor and doing manual laundry patted my own, before shyly tucking an inky lock of hair behind her ear. "They said that you are g-getting better and will improve more though. I-I am glad."
Though her visit was cut short by the arrival of a chūnin orphanage volunteer who was going to accompany her to the market, it had been refreshing to speak with someone who appeared to know Kiyoko but did not scrutinize me the way Yashamaru did. When they were saying their goodbyes, I could not stop myself from grinning in a way that I could not remember Kiyoko ever doing and trying to wrangle a promise from Mayumi to visit again. If ever she wondered about the change in Kiyoko's mien, she did not comment on it, and even if she did, I would've claimed a change of heart due to a near-death experience. Knowing her, she would've accepted her best friend's answer without question anyway.
The next visit was something that I should've expected but did not really prepare myself for. Maybe it would have been better for me to pretend to be asleep when a voice announced the arrival of Moto Deisuke, the chūnin sensei assigned to my age group in the Academy. He had not been alone, but was accompanied by most of the children Kiyoko had ever interacted with.
There had been a rambunctious one with spiky green hair bouncing off the walls, accompanied by a loud brunette dressed in frilly clothes. A rather stately bunch composed of a kid with a hawk on his shoulder, a good-looking boy with glasses, and a pretty blonde stood in the corner, watching what was happening but not really involving themselves in it. One giant of an eight-year old had picked up the chart hanging from my bed and busied himself with it while Deisuke-sensei sat on the chair beside my bed to talk. The rest loitered outside my room, prevented from entering due to the rule that limited visitors to seven at most.
They had all greeted me upon entering, asking about my condition and telling me to get well soon. Still, their names are unimportant at this point, though I was able to recognize most of them. The main thing that stood out from this visit was that it was the first time I objectively heard about what actually happened to Kiyoko that ended with her death. Kiyoko's memories were adrenaline-tinged and hazy when it came to the incident itself. Of course, I remembered that one of the criteria that Death mentioned was dying in the same way, but that only meant that she had been stabbed in the exact same place that I was. What I cared about was how she got herself into that situation in the first place and what, exactly, people thought happened to my body. If I did not know, I would not be able to react properly to their worried inquiries.
I begged off speaking too much by saying that I had a headache, but that was alright with Deisuke-sensei. He was a rather talkative and self-absorbed man who proved that humans were capable of carrying a one-sided conversation mainly by speaking introspectively. "I've often wondered why an eight year old would've been the target for these crimes.", he started, worry coloring his tone. "It makes me sad about the state of our village, when not even our children could walk around the streets at night safely."
His words sent a chill down my spine. "Senseless theft and murder have been rampant these days." My attention was completely focused on my teacher who looked more serious now than Kiyoko's memories had ever shown him. "The men who tried to kidnap you for example."
I looked away and winced slightly, recalling cruel faces and disgusting taunts. Deisuke must have noticed since he tried to speak in a placating way. "Don't worry, they have been caught. Still, I don't understand how those criminals could've imagined they would get away with this. Just because a child was near the market and wearing the clothes of the House of the Sun doesn't mean that she would not be missed if she disappeared for no good reason."
Ah, yes, all orphans were given free clothes that looked similar. Mayumi herself had worn a variation of the standard red and brown robe-and-shorts that Kiyoko had as well. At the back, they were emblazoned with an orange sun, the official emblem of the orphanage. Anyone who saw those clothes knew that the wearer had no blood relations.
"I was surprised that you fought back though." He looked into my eyes questioningly, as if I was a curious little bug that had to be studied. It seems that this Deisuke did not know Kiyoko well if he thought that the young child was going to give up to strange men without a fight. The thoughts that Kiyoko had been thinking at that time were all scared. What would they do to her? Would they use her or sell her to slavery? She was not about to allow anyone to take her like that.
I had done the same thing myself, when thieves had tried to steal my bag. Letting them get away with it felt like I was telling them that committing crimes was alright. I could not condone such a thing, and as young as I was, I did not want them to succeed at all. Still, even if Kiyoko's kidnappers had been imprisoned in this world, I had doubts about my attackers being so unlucky. If anything, they would have probably been bailed out by the low-level syndicate that they worked for.
Eventually, I realized that Deisuke was expecting a reply, but when it came, it did not come from me. The pretty blonde who had been standing some ways apart had obviously heard and replied sarcastically. "What did you expect Kiyoko to do, sensei? Let herself be taken and most likely abused?" She spoke boldly for a kid. "You taught us better than that, and even if Chiaki-san is an orphan, she obviously wouldn't have liked to be a kidnapper's plaything." The way she said orphan made it look like it left a bad taste in her mouth, but I disregarded it, remembering that this girl was the heir of a high-ranking clan here in Sunagakure.
"Meiji-san is right, sensei. I would have rather died than let bad things happen without a fight." The words left my mouth without emotion or inflection. In the end, Kiyoko and I did die, which spoke volumes about just how much we didn't condone criminals. It appeared like I had more in common in her than I had originally thought. At this point, the young chūnin sensei looked sheepish and tried to diffuse the tense atmosphere that he himself had created, but it didn't matter as I had already tuned him out.
My visitors came back again at different times over the week I had spent stuck inside the hospital. Though technically Mayumi was part of my age group in the Academy, she never visited me with the rest of them. Such was the intense surfeit of her confidence, which I promised myself I'd try to fix when the time came.
After that one week, I was ready to swear off hospitals for a lifetime. I had enough people poking me with sharp things without me being able to do anything about it. Yashamaru, who had been assigned to my case indefinitely, finally discharged me after too many tests, all the while reminding me to attend my check-ups and rehabilitation appointments in the future.
When I finally stepped out of the hospital doors, it was a sunny afternoon in Suna – though I don't think weather conditions here varied much. A slight wind stirred the sand enough to raise some clouds of dust, but it was pleasant enough for a walk back to the orphanage. As I continued along the path that seemed ingrained into the memories of the body I now occupied, I let my gaze wander. My gait was slow and awkward, almost shuffling. This was probably the "uncoordinated movement" thing that Yashamaru warned me about when he told me to attend my rehabilitation appointments. If I had any chance of becoming a ninja in the future, I'd do well to remember that.
The buildings all around me were mostly stucco in color, with thick earthy walls that probably helped keep most of the dust and the heat out. Now and then, I'd pass a place that seemed more like the places I found in my original world, but they were few and far in between. It was expensive to maintain them, and the only people who invested their money in such things were those rich enough to afford it, or those stupid enough to try their luck at braving Suna's sandstorms. Probably both.
One such place was a small and rather squat white building that consisted of mostly glass and metal. I recalled the name of a certain clan in Sunagakure – Kimura, I think – that was renowned for sporadically producing individuals with a kekkei genkai that allowed them to imbue the sand with their chakra, allowing plants to actually thrive in certain places. They had greenhouses all around the village, housing vegetables and fruits that would not have grown in the desert in the first place. They were Sunagakure's richest clan, and would be even richer if all their offspring had the Kimura kekkei genkai. Unfortunately, only two or three in a generation had the talent, and they also famously had small chakra reserves. Still, this meant that, if the worst came to pass and trade was no longer an option, Suna could somewhat produce its own food.
I thought about this as I bought a cup of lemonade from a stand near the glass building, looking at the famous sand dumplings that they sold askance before moving on. After passing by some stalls that had pre-made puppets and silk by the bundle, I spied a guarded building that had always held Kiyoko's interest in the past. It was a very small building, which looked more like an enlarged portalet than anything else. But, in truth, it was something much more special than that.
Lemonade flowed down my throat, sweet and sour and cold, like a gift from the gods, revitalizing me as I continued studying the place. Rumor had it that the small building housed a staircase heading deep underground, and there were a number of training grounds reserved there for chūnin and jōnin. One such training ground was a recreation of the forests of Konoha, donated most graciously by one of their previous Hokages. Another was said to house a large body of water that was kept from evaporating by the immense amount of chakra that one talented shinobi saturated it with. The most interesting one to me, though, was the training ground that mimicked an arctic wasteland, given by a clan whose kekkei genkai involved ice and snow. Maybe that Wave Arc Haku guy descended from them?
The sun was at its peak right then, and sneaking inside the grounds to roll around ice sounded so good at the moment, but I had to become a chūnin (or a criminal) to see if the rumors had merit. With the luck that I had been having so far, I wouldn't be surprised if the structure was just an oversized special portalet.
Bored with staring at one place for so long, I slowly shuffled along the roads, walking towards the orphanage that I dreaded seeing and hoping not to encounter more stimulants for the flashbacks of Kiyoko's memories that had been happening to me since I left the hospital. These flashbacks were unwanted and made me less than ready to interact with my surroundings and more likely to just stare and think – something that I didn't do much of before. Did this mean that more of Kiyoko's personality was manifesting itself in my actions? Just the thought itself made me shudder.
Dusk had settled by the time the orphanage came within my line of sight. Dark purple blanketed the sky and there was a cooler edge to the breeze that stirred my hair as I stopped walking some distance away. Seeing the orphanage brought home some realizations that I had struggled to keep away, and I had to blink a few traitorous tears away.
Coming home to a place that didn't have my family felt different. Foreign. Wrong. There was no one to get mad at me for staying out too late, or to bother me about school work. There would be no bowl of microwavable mac 'n cheese for me to eat while watching TV with my parents. There would be no fights with my siblings about the remote control and the internet connection. There would be…none of the things I had grown up with and did not appreciate at all until it was completely gone.
And what did I exchange it for? A lonely solo room that contained a serviceable bed, a closet, and Kiyoko's personal belongings. An orphanage full of acquaintances and superiors. A future that might result in a messy and very painful death for me. Was it all worth it? Does exchanging my past for this present offset the pain I saved my precious people from experiencing? In a way, I took the pain of seeing my old body dead from them, and hurt myself. Logically speaking, they were all dead to me. They did not exist in this world, and all it took for me to remember that was a glimpse of this godforsaken orphanage.
I hadn't even been able to say goodbye.
I was only eight years old. I had no idea if saying goodbye would've made everything better, but it sure would have helped a child like me to find some form of closure. Everything was silent as I stepped inside, and no one, not even Mayumi was there to greet me. Even as I walked past some people in the corridors, the most I received was a glance and a nod. For a moment, I wish that I had truly died. I walked with leaden feet, my steps echoing dejectedly in the dim passageway, until I reached my intended destination. Upon entering Kiyoko's empty and impersonal room, I threw myself onto the bed and cried for the first time since I woke up in Sunagakure.
A/N: Another chapter down! Sorry for the wait. Finals kept me busy and sapped all my inspiration, but I have a couple of ideas about what to write about next. Suggestions, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcome! I wouldn't want to disappoint anyone.
A couple of people brought up Kiyoko and Maza's age. They are eight years old in this fanfic, which might seem pretty young to be in the Academy, but imho Konoha's ninja kids seem to be pretty pampered compared to their counterparts in other countries. Suna doesn't seem like the kind of village to care about what age they teach their kids how to kill people. Also, to those who had asked, this takes place after Gaara was born.
Since writing this fanfic, I've found myself curious about and grateful to the reviewers who had taken time to write something for me to read and come back to every time I go online. I keep thinking, what are you guys like, even if I've looked thoroughly at all your profiles. *grins* So, I thought I'd start a dialogue and ask you random things. For example, do you guys write too? I'm not talking about just fanfics, which I probably would've noticed in your profile. I mean, poems or blogging or whatever? :3
Thanks to my awesome reviewers: Ka, Felix Collins, Giraffadon, Hubris Plus, Silver Queen, Chrizzy-chan, Lynn-o-chan, Colors of Iris, Ressan, AnotherProfessionalTragedist, RandomCitizen, vantweet, FattySkeleton, chaosrin, Nomurai, Morpheme, and Insanity-Red!
