Hello once again. Sorry for a rather late chapter; it came out later than I had expected. My muse was not generous for the past few weeks, and reality wasn't very kind to me as well.

Anyway, thank you very much to all those who have read this story, especially to those of you who reviewed/favorite/followed. It's a wonderful feeling to see people who still have interest in reading this story.

Note: Minor edits added to earlier chapters.

To be honest, I actually struggled with writing this chapter, and I'm not very satisfied with the outcome. So if it seems choppy or slow - much apologies. Hopefully as time passes on, I'll be able to smooth it out even more.

Disclaimer: No.

Chapter IV: A Boring Day Indeed

So, apparently, there are a lot of Deaths - one for each world.

Let us take a moment in silence for the single horrific thought of the possibility that there were hundreds of Deaths.

…

Hundreds?

Please, I could barely handle one.

~o~o~o~

"Rule fifty-six."

"A Death's main purpose is to collect souls and put them back in their proper places. In essence, we're like secretaries."

Death gave me a frosty glare for the last sentence. But he let it bypass in favor of reviewing rules one to one-hundred with me. For now.

"Rule number twenty-three."

"All Deaths are to report to our one and only leader, the Death God."

"Rule number four. "

"All Deaths have ranks; higher ranked Deaths have better privileges than lesser ranked ones, but in the end, we are all the same."

"Rule number-"

"Death?" He glared at me again for interrupting, but said nothing in return. I took it as a sign to go on and speak. "What rank are you at right now?"

Death waved his hand lazily to push away my question.

"That isn't important," I sighed.

"Whatever you say, Master." Though it's a low blow coming from me, I still got a small sense of satisfaction to see Death twitch at the title. The Guidebook to all Deaths stated that all apprentices were to refer to their mentors as "Master," but the first (and the last) time I tried calling Death that seriously ended up with a lesson of dodging spiritual knives.

And let's just say that there is absolutely no difference between spiritual and physical knives. When those things get thrown at you, you dodge like hell because really, even though the wounds don't show, you still get the aching pain that stays in your body for days on end – just like real knives.

When a few seconds passed, the small satisfaction I'd received was quickly switched with growing terror: because in place of Death's dull, brown eyes were bleeding red ones.

(And after only six lessons with Death, I've learned that his eyes only change color when he's feeling extreme – extreme anger, or extreme happiness, or extremely sadistic – and when that happens, life isn't good).

"My dear Apprentice," Death said in a bland way, all with a blank face, but I shivered nevertheless – I could see his hand reaching for the daggers hidden beneath his cloak. Although how he always kept a limitless amount in there was beyond my comprehension. "It appears that your reflexes have gotten a bit shabby; let your amazing Master help you."

(I admit it, embarrassing as it was - I squeaked).

Good gods, why hadn't I figured out a way to leave this place yet?

~o~o~o~

For the first month or so, only my Father and Aunt Yuka gave me lessons. They taught me simple things; on Father's part, he taught me the Clan's history, the dozens of trade routes we used, who was important (and who wasn't), and then we dabbled a bit on politics.

It was boring, but simple, so I could easily grasp what he was saying.

(Part of me later realized that had I been a normal four-year old, it would have probably taken me a lot longer to understand what Father was saying).

Aunt Yuka however, taught me medicine and herbal treatments. Plants, I found, took a huge part in medicine for doctors who couldn't (or didn't know how to) use chakra for healing. Those doctors certainly weren't as effective as medical ninja and the like, but for a master like Aunt Yuka, plants were extremely useful and could hold as much of a cure as chakra could.

So it was into the world of plants for me.

"You won't learn everything," Aunt Yuka told me on the first day of lessons with her, in her calm, hard tone. She was always the type to take everything seriously. "You can't, actually, being Shou's daughter. But when you're under my tutelage for the next few years, you better work you ass off for it, because I'm making sure you learn as much as you can, understand?!" She barked out the last part, and, fearing for my poor life, I nodded.

With Death's apprenticing rules, Aunt Yuka's herbal leaves, and Father's trade routes and history to memorize, it was all studying and studying for me.

But surprisingly enough, I didn't mind. I wasn't a terrible student in my past, but I didn't excel academically either. But here, in this life, I soaked everything up like a sponge. Maybe it was because I knew that everything I would learn was important for my future, or maybe my younger brain was able to process more information and absorb all the facts that came my way.

Regardless of the reasons, I was learning. And it was like opening my eyes to a new world.

~o~o~o~

Lessons with Mother didn't start till the third month of my training. By then I had moved on from memorizing plant names to learning how to apply them to injuries, from trade routes to what exactly went traded, and from rules up to number one-hundred to rules up to number two-hundred.

It was fun. Yeah.

But moving on, lessons with Mother were split into two sections. The first day was the most confusing one for me, because I had no idea what she was planning on doing. I had walked into her room, ready to face any sadistic teachings that all my mentors seemed to have, but before I could sit down, Mother raised a hand and handed a slip of paper to me. When I peeked inside, all she had written on it was an address.

"Why don't you be a dear and go help them out?"

And what could I say? 'No thanks mom, I've got better things to do?'

Uh, yeah – no, no thanks.

So I headed off to the place that held the address, and to my surprise, it was a grocery market owned by an elderly couple. And for the rest of the afternoon I helped them out – I learned that their names were Irie Usui and Kasumi – with moving boxes and groceries, and staying at the counter.

(Apparently, in this world, children could have jobs even at four if they did it well enough. In fact, nobody batted an eyelash at a four-year old working at the counter; they were more delighted to see their Clan's heiress instead).

So the morning and most of the afternoon passed with boring purchases and sweaty heat conditions. But surprisingly enough, I enjoyed it a lot. Spending time with the elderly couple let me get to know them more and see them for who they were – not as the old folks who owned a grocery, but as elderly figures whose names were Usui and Kasumi. That afternoon, I returned to the compound tired and hungry, but strangely feeling very pleased with myself when my departure from the couple brought along a bundle of warm, fond smiles and enthusiastic 'come back soon's'.

Mother had only given a mysterious smile when I came back with a wide grin on my face.

And then, for the next four hours, Mother taught me calligraphy. It was terribly complex for me (what with the three different forms of writing) and my letters looked like blocks instead of beautiful kanji, but in the end, I found it ridiculously fun.

(Calligraphy, I realized, was like painting; it was like creating a beautiful piece of art that held meaning behind every symbol that I wrote. I fell in love with it the moment I started).

Strangely enough, Mother had only given that same mysterious smile when she saw me exhausted with blotches of ink splattered all over my hands and face (but proudly beaming at my attempts) and then sent me along my way to clean up.

Huh.

And for the next few weeks, between Father's lectures and Aunt Yuka's barks and Death's lazy rules – I puzzled over the reason behind that smile.

~o~o~o~

The answer came a month later, four months into my training, in the form of Uzumaki Kushina.

It was a bright Saturday afternoon; I had just returned from helping a family of four who were moving to another section in the town (their names were Ieyesu, Tanaka, Tsumi, and Shirou) and was now focusing on writing the basic forms of kanji.

It went horribly at first – my strokes were always straying from its mark, my hand always shook and I always dropped the brush after a few painful tries. Always. But within the four weeks under Mother's tutelage (and hours of practicing on my own at night with the calligraphy set Kushina gave me), I began to improve at a steady pace.

So of course, it was on that fateful Saturday afternoon, where birds were chirping and the sky was blue, that I had my next meeting with my wonderful aunt.

And it was an amazing encounter filled with bunnies and rainbows and then we had ice cream together at a nearby pond.

Not.

Well, except for the last part.

~o~o~o~

"Hey, kid, how you doing?" My arm twitched in surprise, causing the brush I was holding to jerk right instead of its down stroke. Crushing down the irritation and overwhelming surprise at seeing my Aunt again (who popped out from literally nowhere), I looked up from my seated position and stared blankly at her grinning face. After staring and blinking rapidly for a minute, I quickly got up to my feet and bowed formally. This bow was the proper form for relatives who you've only been recently acquainted to, as my father would say. Apparently it was part of a leader's job to know which bow to use when facing a variety of people.

(Tilt your head forwards for servants; ninety-five degrees angle for elders and high-positioned adults; a slight bow for people your own age and younger; an eighty-five point two degrees angle for the royal family's monkey (if said family had one).

…

Thank whoever-lived-up-there that the daimyo's wife decided to get a feline pet. There were no bows for that one).

But I digress.

"Hello, Kushina-nee-chan," I wisely stopped the natural want to say 'oba-san' and gave a small smile. "It has been a while; what brings you here to the compound?"

Kushina waved her hand in a lazy way that felt rather familiar and gently reached over to pick me up. I stiffened at the contact, but relaxed when she only gave me a hug.

"Oh, there's no need for formality; aren't we family?" She replied as I hesitantly returned the hug. Kushina-nee-chan was very warm. "I'm just returning from an easy B-rank mission when Hitomi sent me a message asking for a favor." She placed me down and already my usual blank face had slipped on. I blinked in surprise.

"Mother did?" And to keep up the hey-I-don't-know-you-or-your-life-story-at-all façade, I asked, "B-rank? Mission?"

Kushina seemingly ignored my questions and peered over my head to look at the kanji I had practicing on.

"Hm?" She gave a wide grin. "Pretty good, for a kid who has just started." She commented as she stared at my slightly messy but clean writing. I felt my face turn a bit red, but ignored in favor of listening to Kushina – who was still talking.

"- but your 'se' kanji is off. You wrote a different symbol – one with a different meaning, but the same pronunciation." I knelt in front of my work to look closely at my mistake, and gave a long sigh.

I had written the kanji for 'death' instead of 'four' in my distraction.

But Kushina didn't dwell too long on my mistakes, because after a minute or so she whipped out a blank sheet of paper from some otherworldly place and slammed it down in front of me. Jumping slightly at her sudden action, I stared with a blank face and wide eyes as she pushed a brush into my hands and ordered me to begin my sets of kanji again. I obeyed, of course, though a bit nervously - because although Kushina's eyes held no malicious intent, there was something sharp in there than had me wary.

Taking a few deep breaths, I took the brush into my left hand, steadied it with my right, and dipped the brush into the inkpot. I wiped the excess ink of the pot's edge, took one more calming breath and cleared my mind.

And then I began to paint.

I wrote slowly, but steadily enough that my letters came out clean and closely neat. It was nowhere near the level of my mother's writing (who took calligraphy to an art and made everything look beautiful and right), but for someone in a four-year olds' body, it was good enough, and I was proud.

Fourteen minutes later found me with a completely filled sheet; only to have Kushina then swipe the paper the moment my brush left it and replace it with a new one. We went on like this for another forty minutes, with me filling out paper after paper with kanji and Kushina swiping and inspecting each after completion.

At the end of the torture (because what else could it be?) Kushina gathered all the black splotched papers into a pile and left with a pat on my head to go meet my mother.

…

Blinking, I stretched lazily and yawned.

Strange. Why did I feel like I had just taken a test?

~o~o~o~

That night, Mother summoned me to her room after dinner for a meeting with Kushina on an important matter. Confused but apprehensive, I gave a quick but formal bow to the both of them before kneeling down to the two adults.

"Have you called, Mother?" My eye twitched slightly in annoyance as I bowed my head. While I understood how important formality could be, and the politics that came with being the heiress, it felt ridiculous being so stiff and formal to my own mother.

"I have, Miu," Mother responded in a calm voice, breaking my thoughts of irritation. "Just a few hours ago, Kushina showed me what you have worked on, and I must say – I am very impressed. Few at your age are able to meet the level of strokes that you are capable of."

Words could not describe the shade of red my face was as I stammered out that I was only able to meet this much with her help.

"Along with your diligence at practicing every night," Mother responded to remind me, and I could only nod my head in agreement. "Therefore, after speaking about it with Kushina, she and I have decided that your lessons on calligraphy shall transfer under her tutelage; from next Saturday on, she will be the one to teach you."

For a moment, I could only sit still, shocked at Mother's words that seemed to slowly sink into my head.

"But – but, um, why?" Ignoring the small flush that came from the slight fumble, I nevertheless went on. "Did I do something wrong? Am I not working hard enough or is there something that I –"

"Kid, do you have a problem with learning from me?" Kushina interrupted in slight annoyance, raising her eyebrows in question.

Wordlessly I shook my head.

"Then you should know that your mom can't teach shit -" Gaping at the blunt way Kushina insulted Mother, I turned only to see that Mother didn't seem at all that perturbed. Blinking slowly, I faced Kushina once more to listen to her words. "- and she's more of a painter than a seals master."

I tilted my head. Seals master? Why did that sound so familiar?

"Then, are you a seals master, Kushina-ne-chan?" Kushina puffed slightly in pride and answered with a grin.

"I am. Your mother is one, too, but – " I stared silently as Kushina gave a brief cursory glance to Mother.

"- but, like Kushina said, I am more of a painter," Mother finished firmly, not once returning the look. "And with all of our family members scattered throughout the world, there is no one else to pass on the Uzumaki Clan's tradition. We can only hope that you are willing to take this place as our only blood member, Miu."

The air tensed slightly as both women watched me carefully. But unfortunately for them, I wasn't really thinking about how important being the sole heiress to the Uzumaki Clan would be (because really, I already was an heiress; what was the point of minding the place as another?). Instead, my mind was blissfully blank as I briefly thought about the prospects of being taught by Uzumaki Kushina. And while I was beginning to care about her as my aunt, the only information I could really remember on the woman was that she was the mother of the main character, the wife of the fourth Hokage, and that she died before she had hit thirty.

Could I really be able to see her, every week, and not say a single word?

The consequences of knowing the future was a heavy burden.

But before I could really think about the consequences of seeing a person I knew would die in less than a decade, my mouth had opened and the first thing that came out was,

"Will I be able master calligraphy if you teach me, Kushina-nee-chan?"

…

Because there really was only so much wondering and fretting about the future that I could do before it was too much for me to handle. I wasn't God; I wasn't all-mighty or all-powerful. Heck, I wasn't even qualified as a Death yet. But the future wasn't set in stone, and what help could I be, miles away from Konoha and in the form of a little girl?

I didn't want to rely on some pieces of vague information to plague my life; when it was Kushina's time to go, what could I do to prevent it?

Absolutely nothing, I thought, as I watched the amused faces of my relatives with a blank face, except enjoy my time with her till the end.

So it was with a firm mindset that I faced the glowing face of Kushina, who had no idea of her untimely death.

"Of course, you will be, kid! That's the basic skill you need first before starting seals. Don't worry – with your talent, you'll be mastering seals before you reach ten!" And before I could say something serious, or wonderful, or hell, even a simple thank you, Kushina leapt from the floor and began to drag me out of the room. "Now, let's get started!"

With those words, Kushina broke the solemn mood I was in.

"Wait – what? You mean now?"

"Of course!" I glanced at the clock that was hanging on the wall.

"But it's almost midnight!"

"So? You're a big girl now; you can handle a later bed time."

"I'm only four!"

"That's a fine age to start!"

"But – but –"

"Oh, don't be such a baby. Hey, how about this kid – I'll get some ice cream for you if you do well."

"There aren't any stores open at this time!" Kushina-nee-chan raised an eyebrow.

"Kid, who said I was going to buy the ice cream?" I looked frantically at Mother, who didn't even bat an eyelash at Kushina's blatant confirmation of thievery.

"Mother - !" I reached desperately for her, but, like any other apparently insane Uzumaki member, she simply waved a good bye and calmly sipped at her cup of tea that I hadn't even noticed she had. After a few minutes of helpless and ineffective struggling, I finally gave up and let my body hang limply from Kushina's hand, which hadn't once faltered at dragging my body outside.

Sobbing silently in my head, I gazed up at the night sky from the floor and wondered: will I survive till the next day?

The stars only twinkled brightly in response; who knows, Miu, who knows…

~o~o~o~

"You're late." I gave a muffled sigh from the black floor I lay on, in Death's all-encompassing world. It was strangely very slippery and smooth and always really cold.

"Sorry, my aunt was very … enthusiastic about teaching me." I could practically see Death's uninterested face raising a single eyebrow. Lazy bastard…

"Oh, is that so? Well then, I guess I'll just have to send you back to your sleep," He gave a long-suffering sigh and I listened quietly as he lifted himself up from his fluffy chair. "And I was so excited to move on from memorizing rules to something else … "

Of course, he said this all in a rather bored way, but out of all the things I've learned about Death, I knew that he was anything but a liar.

Quickly jumping from the floor to my feet, I ran in four gigantic big steps to reach him.

"Really? Are you serious?" Death only gave a blank stare at my rather stupid question; of course he was serious, when has he ever been not?

I beamed at Death's blank countenance and then sighed in relief.

"I'm so glad I'll never have to read that book again."

…

"… That doesn't mean we'll completely stop reviewing, you'll have to check at least a hundred rules every day."

I scowled slightly at that. Apparently, Death held a rather soft spot for the Guidebook for all Deaths, and this wasn't the first time he'd punished me for insulting the book.

"You're just doing this to spite me, aren't you?"

"Yes," - Came his immediate reply. Well, at least he was honest. "Now, let's start from rule number one."

I gave a long-suffering sigh and sat down on a nearby fluffy chair. Damn.

"Rule number one," I stated with a blank face and a monotonous voice. "No mortal can ever come back to life, unless under specific circumstances verified by the Death God himself. But what are we going to do after this?"

Death shrugged carelessly, but I knew him long enough to see that he was still sullen at the comment I had made against the book.

"We'll probably start next week," Before I could make a protest, he raised a hand to stop me. "I'll be busy for the next few days; there's been issues going on with a war that's going to start in a while, so I have to prepare for a massive work overload."

I blinked slowly and nodded. Slightly disappointed at the prospect of having to wait another week, I continued on to list the next rule.

"Rule number two: Deaths have control over a certain amount of followers …"

Briefly I wondered. How would Kushina be able to teach me if she was a soldier for her own village? Could she spare the time to teach me?

…

I had completely forgotten about the Third Shinobi War; it would be starting soon, wouldn't it?

~o~o~o~

So another four months came and went by with absolutely no word about an on-coming war.

(Of course, there were rumors of border clashes along the east, but really, rumors were just rumors, right?).

So I relaxed and focused on my studies, which had increased to an enormous amount.

Politics and Clan work with Father;

("We are a large Clan, so it is up to you to remember each one of us,"

"Yes, Father.").

Medicine and poisons with Aunt Yuka;

("Faster, brat. While you're here wasting time and looking cute, there are patients out there that could be dying at this moment! Do you understand?!").

Rules and meditation with Death;

("Meditation? I waited a whole week so that we could start meditating?"

"Yes."

"… I think I liked it better when we were going over the book.").

And then calligraphy with Kushina-ne-chan.

"Kid, there are only two rules of pranking that you have to follow: one, don't ever leave evidence behind saying that it was you; two, pranks are for amusement and creativity - not to harm others."

"Um, Kushina-nee-chan? I thought you were going to teach me calligraphy?"

"What are you saying, kid? I'm teaching you the Uzumaki tradition – which means teaching you how to prank."

"I though you said that the Uzumaki tradition revolved around seals and-"

"- And pranking, kid. What, did you think your mom wasn't a prankster when we were younger? Oh, don't give me that look; we were the best pranksters in the Clan."

"Mother was?" My face went blank as I tried to wrap around the image of my beautiful, calm, mother as a prankster.

"Yeah, people never thought it was her because she was always so quiet. Say, how 'bout we have your first prank be on your old man?"

"F-Father? No - !"

"I think he deserves it; he's always acting like he has a big stick up his ass – "

"Nee-chan..."

Nevertheless, that fateful day ended with a hysterically laughing Kushina, a not-so-amused green-haired father, and a cowering child hidden behind the robes of her proud mother.

(Though, in the end, Father forbade Kushina from entering the compound for a whole month before she could even think about returning).

~o~o~o~

"Again." I snapped back from my straying thoughts and struggled to lift the wooden sword that hung limply in my hand. Taking in a deep breath, I swung the sword down and then shifted to the left – a basic kata. But whatever I was doing was not right, because my teacher only shook his head and motioned for me to redo the kata.

Lessons with Uncle Masaru started about a month ago; back when Kushina was still banned from the compound. All Suzuki children living in Shikimura town (especially the heirs) had requirements to know how to fight, or at least, know how to defend themselves in an ambush.

(As traders and mercenaries, bandits were always a common nuisance that we had to deal with).

But training usually started when the child turned eight, when he or she had a good idea at what they were going to do with their life. So then why was I here, at age four, swinging around a wooden sword?

As if he had just heard my thoughts, Uncle called for a stop and walked over to the training ground I was in.

"Miu," I stared blankly at Uncle's exasperated face and resisted the urge to shiver; December in Shikimura was cold. "I know that it may not seem necessary to you now, but I need you to focus on completing these katas; they'll help you a great deal in the future."

I tilted my head, face still blank, in confusion. Luckily, Uncle had lived his whole life with Father, who was probably the master at poker faces, and could easily see the question in my eyes.

"You are the Suzuki Clan's heiress, Mi-chan," He reminded me, as if I had totally forgotten the reason to why I was taking these lessons in the first place. "When we celebrated your birthday, your existence became known to the world. And there are enough people out there who are low enough to try to take you away – just to get to our Clan."

Ah, kidnapping. I nodded slowly in understanding, but it was difficult to wrap my mind around Uncle's words. Nevertheless, I continued to listen to him carefully.

"Your form is not so bad, Mi-chan, but unless you try to put some effort into training, there isn't much I can teach you. You are lacking in intent." I winced at the honesty laced with Uncle's voice, and flushed slightly. I was never one to enjoy physical activity; it seemed a bit pointless to me in my earlier life.

But I nodded my head again anyway, and lifted the sword in my hand to a beginner's stance.

Kidnapping was dangerous, I knew that. But it felt so unrealistic; memories of stories that filled my other world with dangerous men and terrified hostages was so far away that it seemed like a never-lifting haze that I didn't really feel like swimming through.

Really, I thought and stupidly assumed, could such a thing really happen to me?

~o~o~o~

Four days before Kushina-nee-chan's return answered that for me.

"What are you looking at, brat?" I flinched away from the guard that was standing a few feet away as he spat in my direction.

Blinking slowly, I thought about how I had ended up here in the first place.

There was a blur of movement, it was dark and I couldn't sleep and then I couldn't breathe because arms had wrapped themselves around me and then -

I woke up here.

Quietly looking up at the damp rotting ceiling, I wondered if I would ever see the sky again and cursed myself for not taking Uncle's words seriously. Silently, as I sat in a cold dark warehouse with only a few rats for company, I realized with dread that assumptions were dangerous.

In this world, anything was possible.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Once again, apologies for a choppy chapter - and the insanity that is Kushina as well.

There will probably two to four more chapters on Miu's childhood, and then we'll pick up the pace and move on to her arrival to Konoha.

Grammar mistakes are probably abundant in this chapter, so anything that seems glaring to you, I'd be much appreciated if you told me.

So, thoughts?

Regards,

Searching. For. Enadi.