CHAPTER ONE

I don't remember what happened. How I was suddenly ripped from everything I knew and thrust in an impossible reality. What I do remember is the keener sensation of being born for the second time. Truthfully, it is now but a blending of sensations and feelings, like the cold, cold air hitting my skin and the, by contrast, warm hands securing linen clothes around me, warming, but irritating all the same. I remember the moderate sound of Hahaue's voice, rising above all the controlled chaos around me to gently shush my whimpers.

In the subsequent months, I was terrified. Time here blurs in a never-ending cycle of trying to understand what had happened and crying out for something familiar. There was nothing, and I couldn't begin to comprehend why I was with this woman and where I was being kept.

I had no control over my body. My motor skills were poor at best, and I was overwhelmed by everything around me. The simple act of breathing in the cold, with a soft undercurrent of paper and old wood, air of my new house was a novelty. Every texture was maximized against my skin, every noise stunning and confusing to my unaccustomed hearing. My sight, though, was rather abysmal when compared to my other senses, and I hardly could make sense of anything around me… Except, maybe, for the caring face of Hahaue, her beautiful visage filling my world from then onwards.

In those days, she slowly became the solid point in my changed existence. Her voice, her warmth, her eyes... That strange woman would give me everything in every touch and action. I couldn't stop the growing feeling of familiarity and dependence that sprout during the early weeks of my stay at that strange house and stranger situation.

I had two older siblings, which was an innovation all in its own. I didn't know their names, and they weren't exactly excited by the new addition to the family. I admit it would be months before I could differentiate between them; both had fair skin and black eyes and hair. Besides, they weren't interested in me, so they kept away. But after some time I could hear them playing through the open window, always talking loud and laughing with each other. They were close, apparently, and I was the intruder.

I was perhaps four months old when I finally met the man that I would later identify as my Chichiue. He wasn't a physically intimidating man, being lean and wiry instead of muscled and big, but there was something in his eyes… He is a cold person with dead eyes, it's what I thought that night, when that stranger entered my room. He walked in utilitarian steps and all his movements were precise and curt, somewhat jerky in their execution.

He didn't touch me, just… Looked. I observed him warily from my niche of silky fabric, not moving an inch while we were engaged in that staring contest. I would soon learn that it wasn't a wise decision to start any sort of contest with that man.

He turned just as abruptly to Hahaue and spoke in a loud, rough voice that startled me. It was a voice to bark orders in a battlefield, not to be contained inside four walls, and it filled my living quarters. He filled the whole room with his forceful presence. Hahaue was a soft contrast to him, all demure tones and delicate, well-rounded words. She spoke slowly, as if choosing with carefulness her words, and I realized she didn't care much for this man's temper, either. It made me more afraid of him than anything else he could have done at the time.

He frowned in response, turning his endless gaze to me once again, making me hold my breath. At least, he made a dismissive sound and, with a careless gesture of a scarred hand, he left. I think both Hahaue and I gave a sigh of relief when he stormed out. Strangely enough, he, contrary to all his other attitudes, didn't make a sound even when stepping on the old tatami floor.

I avidly watched Hahaue move to close the door. She was his complete opposite. She was calm and collected, and she glided through the floor, her whole bearing a composition of dance movements, every gesture that ended sliding smoothly into the next. Hahaue didn't make a sound when walking, either, something that I only noticed at the time. The only sound was of her colorful clothes rustling against each other, her tightly bound hair in an elaborate hairstyle that didn't allow even the long tresses that much liberty.

I watched her dance to the door and close it with graceful, liquid gestures, the wood making a sibilant sound that appeared louder than it was in reality. That exact moment, more than every other, would mark me for a long time. I wanted to move that way. I wanted to be as elegant as Hahaue. I wanted to have beautiful adornments weaved through my hair, tinkling softly with every nod. I wanted to be as lovely as her, with her slanted, deep eyes, and her tranquil expression, like nothing could ever make her loose her patience.

She was my role model, and would stay as such for many years to come.


By around my sixth month I discovered Hahaue was pregnant again. That was… Unexpected. There were three kids running around already, even if my older brothers were more of toddlers and required considerable less attention than me. But apparently, they had their own caretaker, a woman older than Hahaue that helped with them, leaving her to take care of myself and, it now appeared, my soon to be younger sibling.

I also could already sit without help and look around more. I didn't have many toys to play with, but they were strange when compared to my old life's memories. They were wooden toys, rustic and obviously hand-made, and the majority of them were made for development of motor skill and hand-eye coordination. They didn't impress me much, and to my old brain they were easy and senseless. I lost interest one or two weeks later.

I preferred to spend time with Hahaue, even if through the months she couldn't take me in her arms anymore, with her growing belly getting in the way. It didn't matter. I would sit against her warm body, half-hidden by her silken dresses, and watch the world from our porch, her limb hand carding through my rather messy and unruly hair, undoing the many knots that appeared with frequency.

I wasn't having much luck in truly getting the new language spoken around me, even if now I recognized many of the words and could even connect them to objects. Nevertheless, my primary means of understanding was still the interpretation of the speaker's tone of voice and expression. I learned my name at that time, which was interesting. I think Hahaue was worried about my lack of experimentation with my underdeveloped vocal cords, so one afternoon she just sat with me and went through a lot of easy words, including my name. I discovered my name was Uchiha Kazumi.

Obviously, I was horrified by it. I knew the name Uchiha. When in my other life, one of my few hobbies had been read this manga, where everyone had the chance to be strong and make the difference. To discover I was in it was something distressing, indeed. And what is more, I didn't know at what point in the timeline I was, except that in a near future my new family was going to be killed by Uchiha Itachi.

I guess I should have been more worried about the fact that I was in a world with ninjas, but my priorities had changed the moment I realized this was my reality now, and that living, breathing people – people that now were part of my life – were going to die. I won't lie, I never thought about how horrible Naruto's world was, or how sick the shinobi system could be. I not even thought about the old dilemma: to be a ninja or not. It just seemed distant somehow, so far away from Hahaue's protective arms. I resolved to wait and see, to assess the situation. I didn't have all the necessary information to be making life-changing decisions. I was a baby, and I was going to stay that way for some months still.

But from that day on I started to notice things. Like the games my older brothers would play, all of them involving some kind of hide and seek with pointy objects or stage fights with lots of sound effects. They loved it, but once in a while, when Chichiue was home and watching over us all like a sinister shadow guardian, he would correct the way they moved with some pointed words. It was with a shiver of unease that I deduced he was preparing them for their training, when it was time.

We lived in a closed off house, with a wall encircling the property, but some people would always come to talk to Chichiue, or even Hahaue, though it was rare. I began to pay attention to the way they moved and their garments. The majority of them were male, all with dark eyes and hair, and a certain dangerous, silent way to move that sent alarm bells through my head. It was in their eyes, in the tensing of their shoulders when a louder sound would surge, in the way they always ran their hands through their waists, searching for their weapons. They were shinobi, and these weren't times of peace.

Now that I was allowed more time outside, I tried to discern landmarks of the Village, but, to my shock, there wasn't any. There were mountain ranges, for sure, in the distance, but the buildings weren't tall and I never saw the Hokage Mountain, even when I fussed to be taken in a tour around our courtyard of beaten earth. Didn't matter the direction I turned my head, I still couldn't see it. It sent a jolt of cold fear through my stomach, and made me restless and nauseated. Where was I? When was I?

After observing the structures of the houses and the way my family and our visitors were dressed, I reached the unpleasant conclusion that I was, in fact, born before the creation of Konohagakure no Sato. This meant we were in war with… Everyone. Now the tense atmosphere and the agitated shinobi made sense. It was the Warring States period, and every stranger was a potential threat.

The only lingering doubt in my mind was how much time it would be before Madara was made Clan Head and united the Senju and Uchiha Clans to form the first Hidden Village. I hoped it was soon, because despite all my comforting thoughts – the most common of them involving my cold-blooded father and his careless display of skill and killing intent –, I didn't have any kind of reassurance about what could happen to Hahaue, and even my distant brothers.


When I was eleven months old, my younger brother was born. That day, Hahaue didn't come to pick me up in the morning. Instead, Chinatsu-san, my brothers' caretaker, was the one that roused me and took me to the bathroom for a clean change of clothes and some warm water.

I immediately began to worry about Hahaue, fussing and whimpering and just making the caretaker's job more complicated. When I refused my breakfast and just made more of a ruckus, Chinatsu-san made an exasperated sound before lifting me to eye level and stating in a slow and put-upon voice:

"Hush, child. Your mother is fine." At this point she sat me down and just put some more mashed, soft food in my mouth. My vocabulary had improved greatly since my sudden arrival, but I was from mastering my new language. Though I was grateful when she kept talking, I couldn't understand her mumblings.

I thought about possible reasons for Hahaue's absence. She was rather big now, but I didn't have a firm enough grasp on the passage of time to determine how many months she still had until the birth of the baby. It was possible she was giving birth that day, though. More possible than her being sequestrated… It was just as likely, though, that she had had complications and was indisposed, which made me distressed all over again, because medicine at that time was something nearly inexistent, especially in a Clan specialized in combat, like us.

The only thing that made me stop from worrying myself out of my mind was the surprise of being led outside by my new caretaker. It was beginning to get colder and colder with each passing day, and I knew winter was coming, just like when I was born.

Chinatsu-san took me to the porch's edge and helped me sit before doing the same. She swept the courtyard with narrow eyes and I thought for a moment that she was looking for some suspicious movement or object, but her piercing eyes paused when they reached a point near the wall, half-hidden by a large pile of grain sacks.

"Masaru, Ayumu!" she barked, making all of us jump. My brothers turned with slow motions from their work, and took an anxious look at the old lady. When they approached us with wariness she continued with an intimidating expression, her scow marking her large forehead: "What are you doing?"

"Ano… Nothing," gulped the one on the right. That was Ayumu, I was happy to know for sure, now. He was like Chichiue, tall and with a somewhat straight hair, even if his short cut made it stand a little on end.

"Nothing?" repeated Chinatsu-san, her eyes narrowing even more. She turned like a hawk to Masaru, her expression pinching some more. "Obocchama, you are the older brother and you are Clan Heir. I would've thought you would by now understand what it entails. You are a role model to the other children of the compound and must demonstrate good and respectful behavior; besides, you must show the Elders that you are fit to, one day, rule this Clan. I assure you, Obocchama, that you will not achieve either by acting childishly and letting yourself be led by your own brother to play pranks on the hardworking people. Or must I remember you the consequences of the last one?"

It was an impressive piece of scolding, but it held my attention more by the information contained in it. She had called Masaru, Clan Heir. How was it possible? I thought Madara was the child of Clan Head Tajima, and his rightful heir. Why was Masaru the Clan Heir? Unless… Well, there could be two explanations. One, I was part of the current leading branch, and Madara or even his father – if he was still alive – would take the power. Or two: I was the third daughter of Uchiha Tajima and therefore sister of Uchiha Madara.

The problem with that was that I didn't have a way to make sure of any of my theories. I hadn't discovered my father's name, and I didn't know the name of Madara's three older brothers. What also intrigued me about it was the fact that I was a girl. I might have been wrong, but I was almost sure that Madara had three other brothers, besides Izuna. That made things even more complicated, because it meant that I couldn't have much faith in my recollections of canon material. Also, if I was part of Uchiha Madara's family… Where was him?

"You…" Ayumu's growl interrupted my line of thought, startling me with his raging young face. He was very expressive, and his eyes burned with his emotions. Masaru shot his arm in front of Ayumu's chest, barring his advance before it even started.

"No, Chinatsu-san. I don't think it will be necessary. I understand your preoccupations and will strive to reach my Clan's expectations," Masaru said, surprising me. He had a soft voice, still high due to his young age, but his eloquence was astounding. He was small with Ayumu at his side, lean, with long bangs framing his round face. While Ayumu had some kind of boyish charm to him, Masaru was just plain adorable. But he had a seriousness in his expression that unnerved me; I could imagine him with ease growing up to have Chichiue's void black eyes.

It made me mourn his loss, because I knew it would be the kind of thing expected and required by our father. I knew he was older than me by at least five solid years, if not more. Soon, Chichiue would start training him to lead our Clan in battle and in all other instances.

Chinatsu-san snorted and kept her hawk-eyes on Ayumu, but nodded her head in a grave way, like what Masaru said was of some great importance. I failed to see it as such, worried by the pressure being put in my still very young older brother, but refrained from any kind of comment. Not that at eleven months I had such astounding control of my facial and tongue muscles. I gurgled and spewed nonsense at best, but I did like to try it from time to time, just to watch Hahaue's delighted expression.

Quite suddenly she raised and sternly talked to my brothers, in a way to fast and brusque for my burgeoning skills at the language to follow, so I just listened attentively for a word I may have recognized and watched Ayumu's expression for some kind of cue. I didn't try to do the same with Masaru – he would require more detailed observation to decipher his apparent peculiar minimalist way of expressing his emotions.

Ayumu had a petulant sneer on his face when she turned to go inside, briefly checking to see if I was sitting securely atop the wooden steps, resting against one of the thick pillars maintaining the tilting roof. I was, and with a last warning of "behave!" to my older brothers, she was gone.

I turned to Masaru and Ayumu and we stared at each other, unsure of what exactly do with our unexpected bonding time.

"Maybe we could let her there?" suggested Ayumu, crossing his arms and glaring at me like I was the reason for all his poor luck. Masaru's answer was to hit him in the head, making he lost his balance. "Hey, what was that for?"

"Don't be stupid, we can't let a baby alone on the porch," he said in a fairly reasonable voice, even if his advance towards me was stilted and he clearly had no idea of what to do with me. Ayumu grumbled but followed his lead, warily stepping closer, like I was some kind of wild animal. It made me laugh a little, startling both of them.

"Is she making fun of us? Because she sounds like she's making fun of us," Ayumu frowned, looking down at me. Masaru regarded me in silent contemplation, turning his head to the right, his long hair obscuring one disturbingly perceiving eye.

"I think she understands what we're saying."

"Che, I think she's probably retarded. See the way she doesn't even look around? Hey! What was that for?"

I laughed again at their antics, bringing attention once again to me and breaking their staring contest. Masaru sat in front of me in a proper seiza position with a natural grace that made me associate him with Hahaue.

"Kazumi-chan," he called, effectively making me pay attention to his next words. He smiled when he noticed it, but instead of continuing he turned to Ayumu. "See? She understands."

"Huh, big deal. So we have another genius in the family. I don't care, you're better," my second brother replied, making a point of turning his nose up and crossing his arms once again. His face was arrogant and disdaining, and not as innocent or as childish as I thought it would be. His words were callous and make me wonder if he felt envious of Masaru's obvious intelligence and my apparent intellect.

But Masaru only laughed quietly and moved to sit by my side, encircling me with one protective arm.

"I don't think so. Hahaue said that Kazumi-chan should start to understand a few words from now on. It's just her name," he reassured, but it contradicted his earlier words, and it gave me the impression that it was just for Ayumu's benefit. It was nice and comforting to know that Masaru looked out so much for Ayumu, because it could mean that one day he would do the same for me.

"What are we going to do now?" Ayumu asked, trying to disguise his somewhat satisfied face. Masaru hummed in doubt before smiling slightly and reaching inside his yukata for something. He held it up for our inspection and Ayumu groaned and sat heavily, pouting and pointedly looking away. I examined the simple piece of dirty white paper in Masaru's hands with a frown, trying to decipher what about it could be so offensive to Ayumu.

"I don't want to practice. Shishou isn't here, anyway," he grumbled.

I kept looking at it, trying to understand how a piece of paper could help a shinobi in training, until Masaru perceived my stare and, ignoring the degrading snort coming from Ayumu, explained it to me.

"This is for training your chakra. You use it this way," he said, sticking the piece of paper to his forehead with his index finger, making me laugh at his crossed eyes following his own movements. I didn't laugh when he let go and the paper was kept in place by some invisible force. He made a concentrated frown for a moment longer before turning his eyes to me and opening a wide, proud smile. "See? It's harder than it looks."

"Yeah, she understands everything," interrupted Ayumu, rolling his eyes.

"Don't be like this. She's smart," replied Masaru with an arrogant tilt of his chin. It made me feel good, to know he was proud of me. No one had ever been proud of me, except for Hahaue. And most of the time she was worried about my lack of progress toward normal baby milestones.

"Whatever. Give me that," Ayumu extended his hand with impatience, demanding the scrap.

"You can't do it, baka," laughed Masaru, quickly taking the paper off his head and leaning back, away from our brother's reaching hand. Ayumu blushed in response, two red splotches in his cheeks against the paleness of his skin.

"Can do!" he cried out, in such an immature manner that it made me laugh again, making me start to guess at his age. Maybe he had appeared so much older than me because of my lack of familiarity with children. I never could guess their age, I was horrible at it. He turned to me with a brewing storm in his eyes.

"Here, take it. It's not like it will hurt you to try, anyway," intervened Masaru, sensing that it wasn't fair to let his baby younger sister suffer the wrath of one Uchiha Ayumu, vengeful little brat. I hope, at least.

Still grumbling, Ayumu took the paper and copied Masaru's earlier actions, but kept his finger for a longer time and his frown didn't waver. His face was all scrunched up in childish concentration and beads of sweat began to roll down his forehead. But after maybe some minutes, when he let it go, the paper fluttered to the floor, swaying with the gentle morning breeze.

"Damn it!" he snarled, but before he could sweep the scrap aside with an angry move of his hand, Masaru collected it in an incredible demonstration of speed, smirking when our brother shot him a dark glare.

"You lack patience, otouto," he drawled, turning his palm to the floor and showing his proficiency when the paper didn't move from his stretched fingers. I giggled, delighted by the easy way they were interacting in front of me. Never before had they made an effort to include me in their brotherhood. I knew it came from their young age and the fact that, as a girl, I was considered alien to them; besides, I could understand their resentment of me, for stealing Hahaue's attention. I confess I felt the same, when I thought about the newborn that would surely take her from me for many months.

Masaru turned to me with the same wide, disarming grin of before, extending the paper in my direction, "Want to try?"

I tried to reach for it with all the possible grace allowed by my more and more coordinated motions, but the paper still wrinkled between my too thick fingers. I was familiarized with long, lean pianist fingers, made even more elegant by constant practice, not baby chubby hands.

"Now, you have to feel the chakra inside your body. You have to feel it moving around, beating with your heart, expanding with your breaths. And then…" Masaru stopped in what felt an imitative speaking pattern, the suspense of the pause unlike his normal style. I deduced he was probably quoting his Shishou, probably in the middle of a practical demonstration. "You have to gather it and stick it to the paper, so that it stays in place. But not with too much force, or it will rip! Nor with too little chakra, or it won't stay. Got it?"

I gave it a thought, trying to determine the probabilities of developing chakra manipulation at such a young age. I nodded with jerky movements of my head at him and copied their earlier actions, sticking the piece of paper to my forehead with clumsy movements and closing my eyes. The silence was total, and I realized even Ayumu was looking at me with expectant eyes.

The quiet stretched for long minutes, but I perceived two problems right away. The first, the paper covered the majority of my face, not only a specific point in my forehead, and it wasn't just annoying, but it increased the difficulty of the exercise as well; this alone made me doubt I would be successful, but the second reason – the fact that I couldn't even imagine how to begin my search for my chakra – was more than enough to convince me. Masaru's explanation wasn't helpful in that sense, but I tried to understand that he was just a child. He probably didn't know how hard it was for me.

"Hey, think she slept?" Ayumu's sudden comment broke the stillness, making me open my eyes startled when he yelped. Masaru was frowning at him, his hand still poised in case Ayumu's stupidity got out of hand once more. He turned to me again when he noticed my open eyes.

"No luck?" he asked with a sympathetic smile.

"Nah…" I tried to convey my utter disappointment, shaking my head. I stopped, tilting my head to one side in a blatant imitation of Masaru's adorable habit, when I noticed Ayumu was staring at me with an absorbed expression, not even blinking. It made me worry about his reaction to my clearly complete understanding of the situation, but he just closed his eyes for a moment before giving me a resigned look.

"It's okay, Kazumi. We'll get it for sure," he said, thumping his small fist on his thigh. "And then we will show aniki we're the best, eh?" he ended with a smirk in Masaru's direction.

"Um!" I made, nodding my head with enthusiasm, making Masaru laugh and thump the top of my head softly, with affection.

"I'll be waiting for you, but don't expect me to slow down," announced him with a haughty turn of his head, looking down on us behind thick dark lashes and a thin smile.

It just made us laugh harder, Masaru's soft chuckles mingling with Ayumu's raucous barks and my overjoyed, high laughter.


Much later, Chinatsu-san came back to take us to the room currently being used by Hahaue. The room was dark, all the shoji windows and doors were closed and the air was stale and smelling strongly of incense. But our curiosity was greater then the discomfort, so we entered the room.

Hahaue was in a futon with thick covers covering her exhausted frame, the crisp air of the approaching winter making the days colder. Her unbound hair was like a living being, coiled around her and hallowing her head in an unruly dark mess, her many tresses spreading in many different direction, creating a black mass that moved with a dry sound when she turned her head. I looked at it in wonder, thinking about my own crown of unmanageable mane and that in her it didn't make a difference, she was still beautiful.

I ran with unstable steps to her side, throwing myself above the comforter, next to her spent body, and looked anxiously at her face, searching for some kind of sign that there had been complications.

She raised her trembling hand, giving me a ghost of her usual smile, not being any less gentle and tender, and passed it through my tousled hair, her fingers catching in the knots formed by the outside wind.

"Hahaue!" exclaimed Ayumu, appearing at my side with a big, goofy grin, and huge dark eyes. Hahaue laughed at his excited way and, as if to calm him down, cradled his face, looking adoringly at him. Of course he wouldn't stay still enough for the moment to continue, so he weaved his little fingers around her hand and asked animatedly, "Where's it? Where's the baby? Is it a boy? A girl? It isn't a girl, is it? 'Cause Kazumi is fine!"

"Quiet, boy!" Chinatsu-san's growl and looming shadow seated behind Hahaue made me shiver, but Ayumu just shot her an annoyed glare. "Don't you see Kotone-sama is tired?"

I perked up at the name, rapidly looking at Hahaue's face. Her name was Kotone, then. I tried to remember if I had seen any mention of the name from before, but I couldn't be sure. I found that I was forgetting the trivial parts of the plot, and began to maintain my concentration on the essential points, or I risked loosing all my information.

"It's alright, Chinatsu-san. It's invigorating to have my children with me. It's a boy, Ayumu-kun," she said with tired eyes, her delicate voice carrying with some mysterious ease through the room, immediately silencing Chinatsu-san with a subtle hint of authority.

She turned to Masaru, next, and for the first time I understood Ayumu's reticence and vague envy toward him. That smile was everything – it was warmth, and safety, and tenderness, and care. He was the firstborn and the family pride, and in that moment it showed. Her eyes shone with how much she expected of him and what she was determined to pay to see him reach his full potential.

Maybe she never looked that way at me or Ayumu because we were too young. We had many possibilities and our potential was currently limitless, but we hadn't proved ourselves yet. And in a shinobi family and Clan, what you had to offer to add to its strength defined you and in many ways would appoint your status. Masaru was our better only because he already had training and because he was Clan Heir, but it didn't detract from the truth.

"Masaru…" she called softly, and he went to her side at once, sitting beside Ayumu but keeping his distance.

"Hahaue," Masaru greeted her with a polite nod. His eyes, though, were as adoring as I thought mine and Ayumu's were.

"Do you want to see the baby?" she asked, succeeding in including all of us in her peaceful expression. I nodded, smiling back at her.

"Sure!" exclaimed Ayumu.

"If you or the baby aren't too tired…" intervened Masaru, tugging at Ayumu's yukata in what he probably thought was a subtle gesture. But Hahaue just denied with her head, making the abundance of hair resting around her move.

"Chinatsu-san, bring him, please," she called, extending her hands to receive the grudgingly offered bundle of embroidered navy blue fabric. We leaned forward, curious. She turned the bundle, cradling it in such a way we could see the tiny, sleeping face inside.

"It's so small!" Ayumu yelled in a whisper, afraid to awake the baby.

The baby was small, yes, but also just… Perfect. The miniature noise fit perfectly with the soft pouting mouth and the barely there, but already dark, eyebrows. His round face was full of tranquility, and he slept on – safe, unaware of the attention he receive. Ignorant of his fate. I couldn't see much else, but I wanted to see all his fingers and toes, to see if this body was really as faultless as it looked.

Even Masaru came closer, looking at our younger sibling with interest. It must have been frightening to him to think that one day he would be responsible for all of us, but I had faith in him. And remembering the way Hahaue looked at him, she thought the same.

"Children, meet your younger brother. Uchiha Madara," she whispered, softly kissing his forehead.

To look at his face and think that that was the one that would be consumed by hatred and darkness in the future and as a result would attempt to destroy this world, was the first instance when this new reality resonated as if it was an illusion. It was a baby. It was my brother, Madara. The reason for Hahaue's joy and the rare sense of cohesiveness permeating that moment. We were family, and we were Clan, and it was apparent. But it seemed utterly ludicrous to think about that child as an evil being. He was just… Madara, our baby brother.

That instant, I resolved that I would protect him. Because, like Hahaue and Masaru, I knew his potential, I knew what he was capable of and how much more he could be. He had proved himself already, but he had lost so much, too. I felt a leaden kind of sadness grow inside me thinking about his bleak future, and I promised myself that I would see him reach his own true potential.

I looked at my older siblings and at Hahaue, all of them increasingly important to me, and I resolved to protect them too, as much as I could, to guard that feeling of belonging and true happiness.

Thus, I began my journey in this new, wonderful, terrible world.


A/N: Hello, and welcome! Thank you for giving this story a chance! I would like to ask something (well, two somethings actually) : first, English isn't my mother language, so any atrocious kind of butchering is there to be PICKED ON. Please, if you see some idiocy or even a minor error, I kindly ask that you point it out for correction. I don't have the necessary patience to properly proofread the chapters, so any help is welcome.

Ah! And second: I would like your opinion in the story's rhythm. You know, is it too fast, or too slow? I'm not saying the whole fanfic will have the same pace as the first chapter, but I'm kind of especially insecure about this.

R&R!