Here is chapter 1!

There are some curses in there.

Have fun!


Edit: betaread by M1LTK3A


Chapter 1: To be born anew


She was floating in darkness like a cork in a pond. She laid there as if her only purpose was to stare into nothing until she became nothing. Some parts of her mind realized what had happened and what it meant for her, she was dead -deadeadnotalivenotbreathingnotliving- but ultimately, she wasn't bothered by it. It required too much energy.

No, she was actually... content.

Everything that should matter didn't and-

It was freeing. It was calm. It was peaceful and she, who used to be so tired, wasn't feeling anything. She wasn't burdened by ethics or fear anymore, shackled to a world she never asked to be born in by some meat prison. A blessing in her life.

She could breathe again. Except, as she gasped a breath, nothing came and she choked on her own tongue. What? What?

There was no air, nothing her lungs could contain, and for a maddening second, lack of oxygen descended on her mind like a bulldozer, wreaking off the strange lethargy she was feeling in favor of panic. In her desperation, she sucked in another breath. Nothing.

She went for her neck, trying to claw oxygen in but it took too much energy. Her somersault of energy left as fast as it came and the numbness was back.

It didn't matter. She closed her eyes.


How long has she been staring at nothing? A second, a few minutes, an hour, an eternity?

Time has no meaning here, why bother?

...

Weird.

Is it really?

Maria blinked at the hand in front of her.

Did that thought belong to her? It felt like an echo, reverberating everywhere and nowhere. But it's nothingness, how is it possible?

Weird.

Does it really matter? Probably not. It's not like it would impact her much any-

Her hand blurred. Maria laughed, shaking it. It was like her hand became mist, the more she shook it, the clearer it became. How funny.

Why would it impact me?

The sudden thought froze her. What? Who? How? Maria blinked. Her limbs weighed so much. Her hand fell on her face, slapping her in the process. She could probably calculate it.

Yes, of course with the Pythagoras theorem.

That made so much sense. Weight was linked to gravity and gravity was a vector directed toward the ground while the ground made the perfect horizontal for her right angle. Now, she needed to measure the hypotenuse. And- Oh! She was a genius. With an angle and the distance between her and the ground, she could calculate it after all and-

She...? She, who...?

What was she anyway?

A human? A being? A living corpse? Multiple molecules? One molecule? An atom? A dump of chakra? The light? The sound? Stardust?

Maria frowned.

Maria...? What was a Maria?

Nothing? The void? An old planet?

She felt young and old at the same time. Everything and nothing.

What was she?

She couldn't remember, her brain was mush, and she didn't try to, either. All that mattered was-

Darkness.

She was floating harmlessly in darkness, drifting away, alone with her thoughts. She didn't have the strength to move; it felt all too much effort. Just let her lay here.

She wasn't doing any wrong.

It was so comforting and warm and knowing she didn't need to hide anymore was so freeing.

Wait-

Why was she hiding in the first place? And why was she here, anyway?

Whatever...

She was content, being cocooned like a child in the embrace of his loving mother. It was calm, soundless, and timeless.

And then, the darkness rippled.

Slightly at first, becoming far more pronounced as time passed before being torn apart. And a hand, a horrifyingly familiar purple hand with long black nails tore through darkness and – oh, god no -, she remembered.

She was human, alive dead, and that long, bony hand-

She knew who it belongs to.

It wasn't that hard because it was the last thing she saw, piercing her stomach and–

What is it doing here? She thought a little hysterically and a lot terrified. She tried to move back, to run away but, but-

She couldn't.

And then, the whole arm appeared, extending itself and crawling toward her, and the noiseless, tasteless, soundless void she was in was filled with grunts and growls and she wasn't making these noises. And the arm kept coming closer, and closer, searching for something - for her, she realized as tears brimmed her eyes. She tried to move, uselessly kicking around and she asked and prayed and begged for the darkness to take her somewhere safe.

And it did.

Or it tried to do as small tendrils of black curled around her limbs like tiny octopus tentacles, pushing back and away from the horrible, nightmare-inducing hand. And for one second, she thought she would escape. But it wasn't enough, especially not when the whole freaking Soul Reaper crawled in until the waist, a snarl showing pointy teeth plastered on his face.

Shit was all she could think before it – he? - snatched her and it felt like she exploded, her atoms were all but pulling her in different directions.

She was on fire.

And then, a bright light burned her eyes and she couldn't open them anymore. Sounds fell in deafened ears like she was underwater. Her body felt weak and constricting and terrified. What's happening?

WhAT's hApPenINg?

The first thing she registered was the pain, a peddle sunk into her foot. And in the next instance, there was almost too much to comprehend. Sounds, smells, feels, sight. They all just reported everything back to her at the same time.

Her lungs filled themselves harshly with air and- oh god, she was breathing.

She felt absolutely, completely alive.

What? WHaT?

Heart stomping against her chest, head pounding, she felt herself being moved, shifted, and held before being put down against something warm and less clammy. Clammy?

She felt gross and terrified and fragile and wronged. Something wasn't right. Nothing was right but she couldn't understand what was and what wasn't. She couldn't understand anything.

What is happening?! WHAT'S HAPPENING!?

Back to being held and moved and finally, FINALLY, her ears cleared with a pop. There were cries somewhere and- Wait.

She was crying.

Oh, God.

And-

"A girl?" A voice asked hoarsely over her. It burst into breathless laughter, "It's a girl."

Her lungs, powerful and burning fiercely, came to a stuttering halt. Her cries died out as she listened to the voices.

"A girl..." An undoubtedly male voice answered. Fingers were probing her cheeks and turning her head and it annoyed her. "She is so tiny- Ouch!"

She heard a slap and the fingers left her cheeks. She sank a bit more into the warmth against her.

"Careful, she is fragile." The first voice growled and she felt a warm wind fanning over her face. Her heart did a weird jump. Blurry eyes prying themselves open as her lips parted in a soundless gasp.

She couldn't see anything.

Her parted lips took in a long breath as panic overloaded her brain and she cried.

"Ahaha. Can you hear that roar, Daichi? That's powerful lungs, a perfect fit for her lineage. Excellent work, Kazashi-san." A deep voice rumbled near her. "She'll make the clan proud. I know it."

The breathless feminine voice answered. "Thank you, Ashina-sama."

"Welcome home, Nagisa Uzumaki."

She screamed.


The feeling of wrongness didn't disappear, if nothing else, it increased as time passed.

Something was off and it unsettled her. And so, like any baby, she cried and screamed.

During days and nights, she cried, worrying the woman that was her new mother. She screamed her anger, wailed her pain, sobbed her confusion, and slept her longing away. She brooded and cried and wrecked her brain to understand what could have possibly happened to her.

It wasn't right. Nothing was right. She knew she shouldn't be an infant and yet, she couldn't grasp the reason why.

Why? WHat?


Something startled her out of her nap. The blanket. The blanket was weird. It's... very warm and itchy.

It shouldn't be. Why it shouldn't be?

The blanket couldn't be that warm because there was no source of heat near her and she couldn't produce that much heat. But it was very... comforting.

Her heavy eyelids grew heavier. She fell asleep.


"Kazashi," a deep voice rumbled from somewhere, "did you recharge her seal?"

It startled her. Not so much the voice but the words.

'Seal'. A seal.

The word was familiar and the meaning wasn't lost to her. A seal was the direct application of the saying 'words have power', a piece of art that was as dangerous as it was dangerous. And then, it hit her.

A faulty seal. That was all it took to kill her.

Kill. Death. She died as an adult. She was an infant.

She died. And then, she was alive again. As an in-fant.

HoW? WHy?

How the hell did she manage to summon the Soul Reaper, a being that lived inside the thin veil separating the living from the dead? How was she an infant? What happened to her seal? Did it explode? Did it erase itself after killing her? Where was she? Why was she named Nagisa? How was she still alive?

How? How?Howhowhowhwowwowowhowhowhow-

Her brain throbbed under the assault of memories, the pain growing hotter with each image until it felt like someone was twisting a burning knife inside her brain and-

She felt pressure on her body and then, she was out.


The next time she woke up, she was back in her bed.


The Uzumaki.

A strong clan of shinobi whose sealing jutsu abilities was greatly feared among their peers. A clan that believed itself to be on top of the world, only they received a harsh wake-up call and ended up eaten by those they deemed below.

They disappeared right before the Third Shinobi War struck.

The remaining Uzumaki all went into hiding, living in fear of being discovered. She knew that; the cold, jittering terrors, the prickling sensation of being watched, the paranoia, the lies, and deception, she lived through that.

As they became an uncommon sight, a rarity, the twisted minds of the traffickers reeled. A rarity with uncommon abilities? A whisper here, a smile there and every wealthy wanted one. Their prices skyrocketed and the hunt began.

It was common knowledge.

So why the hell had she been proudly proclaimed an Uzumaki again?

Being branded an Uzumaki was dangerous, akin to a curse, one that would follow you all your life. Safety was a long-forgotten word for the Uzumaki, just survival.

Her mind reeled when it happened to her, for the second time.

She didn't understand. Why would you do that to your child, your flesh and blood?

And with her being a baby – a baby! -, she couldn't do much except sleeping, grumbling, and seeing blobs of colors.

Red was the most common. It was on the crib, on the ground, and in the woman's hair.

What the heck is happening?

To survive as a baby with an adult soul, one has to forget about pride: you're dependent on someone, like a real living, screaming log.

Humiliating.

And let's not talk about the betrayal of her body or else she might throw a hissy fit. Bowel control? In your dream. Breastfeeding? You got it. Also-

She screamed.


Her vision started to clear somewhere during the third month of her new life. Or what she assumed was the third month. Time was a strange concept for a baby, slippery as fuck, so she tried to keep track of the day with the cold chakra.

It was strange, Maria has never been a sensor and yet, she could feel chakra now. It was new. She had a new sense that added a new dimension, a new meaning to the world. All of her senses were thrown off.

There were two chakras inside the house: a warm and airily one and a cold and smooth one. The warm one belonged to the woman, her mother. She was always at her side, answering to her every whim, showing her the house with a low, melodious voice –but woman, she couldn't see. What's the point?- and singing. There was a lot of singing involved and every time it put her to sleep.

Like really, every time. A song. Maria is out.

The cold chakra that must belong to her father was rarely in the house. It had happened once that she woke up to the feeling of cold chakra in her room and something warm pressed on her cheek but it was leaving the moment she was fully awake.

It was morning; she was four-month-old and the room she was in was made of stones. Not of wood, like everywhere in the Fire country, of stones.

She frowned, puzzled.

Where was she?

Her mother's chakra stirred in response to her own waking up. She heard a groan then the slow clap of feet against stones before she appeared in her vision. Startled at first at finding her in her crib not fussing but focusing, a slow and tired smile graced her lips, lighting her face up.

"Good morning, Nagisa-chan. Slept well?"

Feed me, woman.

Talking while being a baby was the biggest tongue twister in the world. She knew the words; She knew how to pronounce them and yet, she could not say them. So she just babbled in answer.

"You're talkative this morning." She said before humming a song. "It's nice now that you started doing your nights. Much more peaceful."

Maria, or the newly dubbed Nagisa, was too busy staring at the woman to take offense. Resting in her arms like she was, Nagisa could distinguish smaller details, like the freckles on her mother's cheeks or the golden specks in her dark blue eyes.

She smiled when she noticed her daughter staring. It was a nice smile, warm and full of love. Nagisa liked it on her face.

They moved together and then she put her down on a baby blue blanket.

Nagisa wouldn't have it. I'm tired to look at the ceiling for fuck's sake.

So she wiggled out of the burrito blanket she was cocooned in and turned her ridiculously heavy head. So tiring.

What appeared to be a living room was merely decorated. There was blue and there was red, there were painting and sea-shells, stones and glasses –colored glasses-; there was a table, a sofa, and a kitchen. And there was the thrumming of chakra everywhere. It was faint, but the woman –her mother's chakra was saturating the air.

Seals, she thought. Her seals, everywhere.

But there was no trace of cold chakra. Like he didn't live here. How strange-

The woman was back hardly two minutes later, a fond exasperated expression on her face, eyes twinkling with love and a tinged of anxiousness and her baby bottle in hand.


It wasn't hard to call her Kaa-san.

She never had one in her past life. Her parents died protecting Uzushio and winning time for baby her and her grandmother to leave the island.

And Maria quite liked the woman anyway.

She was gentleness and warmth, had a really lovely voice and she would always do the silly voices when she read to her.


Some weeks later, she rolled on her own and the quest to crawl began.


She woke up in tears, the nightmare of a clan massacre, a boy with curly hair and a sunny smile and a purple hand still lingering in her memories.

The hands that slipped under her body and lifted her out of the crib startled her so much she squeaked. Heart beating furiously, she let out an almost-sob-but-not-yet and prepared to scream but the feeling of cold chakra against her back dissuaded her.

Still, she cried a bit in the man's chest, a deep rumbling trying to soothe her.

Nagisa blinked. Once, twice before her face settled in a puzzled expression.

It was the first time she saw more than a glimpse of his face. He had dark circles under his eyes, seafoam eyes, a young face -perhaps a bit older than Kaa-san- but the most striking was his deep crimson hair.

He had red hair, just like her mom. He was an Uzumaki too?

Two Uzumaki parents...?

She was deeply fucked if words got out. A pureblood Uzumaki. Great.

Faced with her startled face, and perhaps mistaking it for something else, he said. "Nagisa-chan, I'm your Tou-san, Daichi Uzumaki. Please take care of me."

She blinked, inwardly cringing. His voice was on the monotonous side and his words were awkward. As if he didn't know how to talk to her.

Still...

Daichi.

Then who the hell is Ashina?


A week after, she told her first word, 'Kwaa-sah' as she offered a mostly toothless smile and her mother shed a tear, beaming with joy and warmth. Her smile was the prettiest.

Less than a month later, she took her first step before promptly eating the ground.


Her father missed all of her firsts.


It was around that time that Nagisa finally took her first stroll out.

She whined and fussed as her mother tried to put a second coat on her. She was so excited to go outside and her mother kept retarding them. Hurry up!

Frustration built inside her. She wanted to shout and shake her little fists, have a tantrum, and let it all out. The bubbling feeling was uncomfortable, too cumbersome for her nerves. She couldn't resist her urge to snap.

"No!" She blurted in anger, wailing her arms. She could barely move her arms. It's too warm already, enough!

Her mother, still young and unexperimented, kept trying.

"It's freezing outside my little angelfish, you need to put on your coat." She pleaded, seizing one arm to push it through a sleeve. Nagisa wasn't having any of it. The Uzumaki were known for their vitality and health, dammit. She had played in the snow when she had been only six years old with merely a coat and she hadn't caught a cold!

"No!"

Kazashi's mouth fell open as her own hair raised in anger before doubling over. "And Daichi was afraid you grew too meek... You've inherited the Uzumaki temper just fine." She wiped some tears, her smile turning sharp, hair filled with chakra curling around her. "However, I'm your mother and this isn't how you talk to me, young one."

A shiver ran up and down her body as sweat dribbled down her face. She quickly nodded and took her second layer, tiny arms shaking as she put on her coat mostly by herself.

Mothers are scary...

Her mother smiled, satisfied as she took her in her arms. Nagisa, always the petty, drooled in her hair in revenge and chewed on a few strands.

The door of their house opened and Nagisa stopped breathing. The outside was entirely different from her expectations: stony, colorful, and flowery.

The paths were paved, the houses, in stones, and timber with colored woods. There were arches made of copper stone and heavily decorated pillars that held flower trays high in the sky. Gates of red littered the main road, pillars of wood carved and etched with black and gold inks. Swirls, curls, and straight lines. Red, black, and gold, the colors of the Uzumaki, were the dominant colors. Vibrant green and blue, here and there, like specks of dust, added life. Salt, faint flowers, and that stench that characterized the streets no matter where you live all but mixed in her nose, the bitter smell of cold burning her nostrils.

Some windows were partially covered in frost; the stones were shiny, like billions of tiny diamonds spilled on the ground. Yet vegetation still strived.

"Kaa-san." She pointed at a small square with big interrogating eyes.

She could still not articulate well and it was so frustrating. Speaking was one of the most basic needs of humans. Hell, the very first reflex of babies was to cry, to make a sound, to communicate their distress. The only thing that a baby could do was communicate one simple but incredibly fundamental message: help. Communicating was, if not the most, an important skill. And she couldn't do that. The muscles in her face, her tongue, and the lack of most of her teeth forbad her from doing so.

She inched their way toward a small garden square before stopping right at the entrance. It was mesmerizing in a colorful way. It wasn't pretty, just colorful and it was enough to captivate her.

Kazashi hummed in her ear, before shifting her hold.

"Do you see the small scribble on the fence? It's our most prized tool, a seal, and once we step inside the garden-" She walked inside and bent down, carefully selecting a small, white flower and presenting it to her. All the while, heat washed over them. "-It's warm. That way we can keep the flower pretty."

Nagisa ooohed, clumsily stroking the petals.

Their house was on the side of a mountain with no neighbor in front, high enough she could see the shore and the copper rocks below and near the biggest building she has ever seen –bigger than Konoha Hokage's tower.

And what a building. As large as three whales and whiter than the snow, it was painful looking at it.

Two perfectly symmetrical squared buildings were stuck together, and acting as the glue, a big tower looking like a lighthouse with its bubble-shaped roof and a huge bell. Right at the entrance, two small colorful gardens were neatly arranged.

But the most important remained what she could feel. It was vibrating with chakra, wild and untamed, familiar, and radiating in such a big amount that Nagisa could choke on it.

She squirmed in discomfort.

"Are you okay, angelfish?" Voice soft and worried, her mother gave her a concerned look.

Nagisa nodded firmly.

No way she would give her mother a reason to bring her back inside.

"All right." Kazashi took them near the side of the mountain.

A little below was the roof of a house. And even below was another. And again and again, until the houses reached the side of a river. From what she could gather, the village, town, island? had been constructed following an idea of encased rings: at the base of the mountain, the largest ring of houses then the higher you reached, the smaller the ring became.

So if I'm near the top, does that mean I'm a part of the important people? A noble? Or is there no such thing here?

Nagisa frowned, finally focusing on the people below. There were a lot of colors, with red the most present. How-

It didn't look like Kaze no Kuni, where she knew most of the red hair comes from, as it has no border with the sea.

Someone jumped on a roof before sprinting - shinobi? - and leaping away on the houses below. Somewhere, a loud 'bang' detonated.

Wha-

Nagisa flailed startled tears in her eyes. An explosion? Where they at war? Why no one was running? What is happening? Wha-

Her mother was the picture of ease. Why wasn't she reacting? Did she not hear the sound? Was her mother deaf?

She yanked the red strands, capturing her attention.

"What is it, Nagisa-chan?"

Because she couldn't quite explain what was happening without using complex words that she most definitely should not know. She went for the easy course: "Boom!"

Kazashi stared before it finally dawned on her.

"Oh! That..." She chuckled, "I don't even hear them anymore. It's just someone playing, angelfish, no need to worry."

Someone playing with an explosive? What the hell was wrong with these people? Where was she anyway?

"Nagisa-chan, look." She said, pointing at the sea. "Do you see the ripples on the surface?"

She squinted, finding difficulty swallowing, heart beating uncomfortably in her chest. The wind suddenly picked, sending strands of red hair flying in front of them. The sun was casting a warm golden glow on the blue-green sea, making it shines like jewelry. She saw it. Them. As in the multiple, enormous things that were definitely not just ripples and promised death and a huge headache to come. Swirling continuously, clashing against each other in a deadly dance that vowed salt and drowning, the whirlpools were giant, as big as the size of the building behind her.

Dread pooled in her guts, alarm bells ringing in her head.

"It's our most famous protection: the whirlpools." She explained, kind eyes boring into hers.

Oh my god- Don't tell me.

"It's also from them we got our name, the Uzumaki." She continued, a wild smile slowly making its way on her lips. Uzumaki, the whirlpools ...

YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING M-

"They have been protecting our land, Uzushio, for centuries."

Nagisa felt like throwing up. She was in Uzushio.

And because her emotions were hard-wired to her tear ducts, she burst into tears.


Hiccupping with bleary eyes, Nagisa snuggled deeper in her mother's chest, half hoping she would not have to affront reality and half wanting to die, while Kazashi hurried somewhere.

Her seal worked.

Kinda.

It did its primary job, which was, sending her in the past but the details were mixed and she had been sent in Uzushio while the Uzumaki were still thriving and-

Oh god, her seal worked.

But because she did not give a time limit, the seal took all her chakra and converted it in the number of years to send her back. This was her fault, she had been forgetful.

And because she had probably neglected the interaction between the Sheltered Crane seal - to protect her soul - and the Growing Seaweed - for her body -, her soul was somehow reaped from her body –which explained the apparition of the Soul Reaper- before being slammed down into a new body. She may have neglected so many other interactions that might have resulted in her being here.

Her head was spinning.

Her anxiety thoughts were akin to running around a house over and over, faster and faster. It was pointless. She wanted it to stop, to let her thoughts be stilled and leave her in peace. But it was hard and she never learned how to overcome her fears, just to act on them. So, instead of fighting against the current, she let the waves of her fear drown her as she buried herself more and more against her mother's chest, sobbing harder.


She opened her eyes on an unfamiliar brown ceiling, chakra searching her mother's. Weird. She didn't remember falling asleep. Seems like her earlier outburst tired her far more than she thought.

Earlier... Just thinking about it brought back her anxiety. She clenched her fists, willing them to stop shaking. Every muscle felt tight, sprung for action and she couldn't even walk. Her body screamed at her to sprint down the street, to spend the energy that kept piling in regardless of her inability to use it. Even her face felt tight, like smiling just wasn't an option today. Her usual calm had been replaced by a carousel of ideas, each one more worrying than the last.

Her being here, wouldn't that affect this timeline? She knew nothing about this Nagisa Uzumaki. Well, she knew about one Nagisa Uzumaki, her grandmother's older sister who fought alongside the Senju, but Nagisa was a fairly popular name, it could be anyone.

What if this Nagisa had saved someone important, like… The Yondaime's parents or whatever? No Yondaime meant the Kyubi attack would be successful, which meant that Shisui might die regardless. But living as Nagisa will automatically change the future, right? Because with her knowledge, she's bound to not take the same course of action.

She took the place of someone else's soul and her actions would impact the future. And by fooling around with seals beyond her understanding, she created a new past. Wonderful. She really fucked up.

Stupid, idiotic moron-

She could feel the tears coming back and her breath hitched into hiccups that would slowly become into full sobs. And yet, as she was slowly losing grasp with reality, something stirred near her, and almost mindlessly, her mother's chakra washed over her. It filled her with warmth, hot enough to melt the threads of icy fear constricting her chest. She gasped in a breath, wrapping herself in her mother's love to ground her again.

Inevitably, the tears were running down her cheeks but she wasn't having a full breakdown. Just a few sobs here and there.

Rubbing her eyes, she stirred, eyeing the room she was in. The room, like any room, was made of stones with some woods woven in it, a weirdly nice aesthetic Nagisa could get behind, and shining like a diamond as jewels littered everywhere around her. On a shelf, on a wooden sculpture, stuck on the ceiling and even on the ground.

Her head was spinning. So pretty. So much money.

Upon nearing the pretty things, what appeared to be chips of gems ended up being seashells and sea glass. Beautiful, colorful seashells all carefully crafted together on bone combs. It was shining, it was colorful. She just had to touch it.

Carefully exploring it with her hand, she gingerly examined a particularly pretty pink and white shell with tiny black spirals inked on it. Moving the comb this way and that, Nagisa marveled at the craftmanship until her nail caught the underside of said shell and it fell off.

Oh no.

And like a domino effect, all the other ornaments followed suit until she was only holding a simple bone comb.

Oh no.

Eyes the double of their size, starting to sweat bullets, Nagisa flailed.

Oh no, no, no.

Trying to put everything back was useless: it wouldn't stick and her chubby hands were clumsy, she just couldn't do it.

What do I do? I just ruined someone's work and-

The door in her back opened. Nagisa stiffened. Oh no-

"Little angelfish? What's happening? Are you alright, feeling any pain?"

Trying to not look too sheepish, Nagisa slowly turned toward her mother, - she was the adult, she could repair it - showing her the comb.

Except, there was not just her mother at the doorstep. She was far thicker, older, and smaller than her mother with a kind, amused smile, and wrinkles that showed that life had treated her right.

Nagisa froze, face whitening.

The woman laughed, bright eyes shining mischievously. "She may have her father look but this side, she got it from you, Kaza-chan."

Kazashi rolled her eyes in the back of the woman who kneeled in front of her.

"Hello little Nagisa, I'm Kasa-chan, your Obasan." She whispered before taking the comb from her chubby fingers. "And don't worry about that."

She took the two prettiest seashells –the pink one and a blue one- and put them on the two ends side of the comb and just like magnets all the other ornaments just flew to the comb.

Holy sh- That's fantastic!

Kasa laughed at her bewildered face. "It was a courting gift from your grandfather and as you can see, he didn't have much taste."

Nagisa didn't answer, actually finding the comb to be quite beautiful.

Kasa put the comb on a desk, eyeing the room with a small humming noise. "Maybe we shouldn't have put her here, she could have choked on my jewels..."

Her mother's eyes grew twice their size, surprise and fear overtaking her beautiful face for a second. "Nagisa wouldn't. She rarely put things in her mouth."

Of course not, I know what tastes good and what doesn't. The little girl huffed and puffed at her grandmother. She wasn't a savage.

Kasa completely disregarded her reaction in favor of taking her in her arms. Being held by Kasa differed from being held by her mom, she just was far comfier. Where her mother was sharp, muscles, and bones, her grandmother was smooth, fat, and warm. And the red hair that she immediately took hold of was a really deep red that was nothing like her mother.

"How old is she again?" She asked, moving them into the room next door.

"Nine months." Her mother answered evenly.

Wait. Nine months? She thought she was only six. Woah, where did the three months I missed go?

"I see." They exchanged a look. "You were right. She is incredibly aware. Do you think-"

"She is." Her mother cut in abruptly. "But they won't, I'll make sure of that."

Her harsh tone left no room for protest, and despite looking unconvinced, Kasa relented. "If you say so."

Nagisa gritted her teeth. She didn't know what they were talking about and they kept referring to something that they both refused to state out loud, which was incredibly frustrating. Especially considering the fact they were talking about her.

By an unspoken agreement, both decided to talk about something else, the neighbor's marriage with an outsider and other things that Nagisa drown out, attention wandering on the room. It reminded her of the sea.

There were shells, sand, corals, and blue. A lot of blue.

They chatted for what seemed like days before her mother carried her home.

"Are you happy to have met your Obasan, little angelfish?"

"Yeah." She mumbled sleepily against her shoulder. "T'was nice."

A quiet rumble shook her mother's chest.

Nagisa fell asleep.


"Kaa-san, what are you doing?"

Kazashi – her mother, bronzed skin, muscly hourglass body, and blue eyes - stopped her humming and raised her head from the paper she was working on. Next to her, on the table made of stone, was a huge pile of paper that was higher than her.

Once her gaze was on her, she lifted her hands in the internationally known up sign.

"I'm sealing." She answered, a tired smile on her face but she still picked her up and sat her on her knees. Immediately, her eyes glued themselves on her work.

Explosive tag, uh?

Her old Obaa-sama always told her that a fuinjutsu work explained a lot about a person. It was all in the strokes. And her mother's strokes were… firm, assured, she knew what she was doing. The kanji were neatly separated and her calligraphy was beautiful. All screamed professionalism, confidence, and love.

She saw the last one in her eyes.

"It's part of a wider and far older art that is said to be created by the Uzumaki: the Fuinjutsu."

And like the dutiful clueless child, she was supposed to be, she asked back. "What is Fuinjutsu?"

"Fuinjutsu is a category of jutsus that gives power to words. It's divided into two main branches: the sealing, named Fuin, and the controlling, Juuin."

"Juuin?"

Kazashi nodded, a gentle smile gracing her lips. Her mother looked unabashedly proud of her interest, eyes twinkling. "See it as imposing your will. You write what happens to the target then it'll do whatever you want."

Her head was spinning. Imposing her will? She never knew she could do that.

"What can we do with Juuin?"

"The Juuin no Jutsu." She started, petting her hair. "Once your target is tagged, you can give or take chakra or immobilize them. Your grandfather, Ashina-sama, is adept at it. He is said to give death even from far away, all because of these seals." Her fingers reached down her jaw before cupping her cheeks. "But beware, these seals are very chakra expensive and far beyond everyone's reaches."

Nagisa nodded small tendrils of red moving in and out of her face.

"Fuin no Jutsu, on the other hand, is significantly less consuming and solely based on seals created by formulas, kanji, and hiragana." A pause. She then added, "Everyone on this island knows the art of Fuin no Jutsu."

"Everyone?" A bit of her bewilderment must have swept in her tone because her mother smirked.

"Everyone." She confirmed. "They just didn't deepen the knowledge enough."

The civilians…?

Kazashi turned her back, positioning her right in front of a clay tablet before giving her the stick. "Unwavering strokes are needed for Fuin no Jutsu. So you must start early if you want to become a sealing master."

And until Nagisa yawned, they together worked on her writing.


She knew how to write before she knew how to run.


Something like a routine settled between the two, she would wake up, her mother would feed her then she was left alone to play with toys and books on the ground while Kazashi made seals. Then they would work together on her writing, writing kanji and hiragana on the clay tablet. Then back to eating.

The afternoon began with her walking around, building some muscles – being a baby, while it was cool because everyone carried you everywhere, was unnerving if, just like Nagisa, you loved being independent -, they would then take a stroll outside.

She would always end up a bit freak out by the number of red hair she was seeing everywhere and the sheer amount of stairs. They were everywhere and so damn long. It was going to be a bitch and a half once she became older.

During the warmer day, they went to the beach and Nagisa could experience how little balance she had on the sand. She tripped and ate sand countless times under the laughing gazes of hundreds of citizens as, with the warmer days coming, the beach was crowded.

She learned so much about life in Uzushio.

Uzushio was not only composed of the Uzumaki clan.

There were civilians who sought shelter after their village had been destroyed and the smaller clans, like the Daiba clan, a clan of pearl divers who've perfected jutsus that allowed them to hold their breath longer, who thrived better on an island. Sometimes, merchants were allowed on Uzushio to trade but it usually was the other way around: their merchants went on land to sell their products.

Life in Uzushio, though, was mostly governed by the Uzumaki.

Not everyone lived on the island. Further away, halfway between the whirlpools and the shore, wooden platforms were carefully built all-around Uzushio and on each was a family protecting it. It was their second protective barrier, should the whirlpools fail to keep the danger away, it was up to those families to protect Uzushio. A sign of privilege, only families deemed trustworthy by the Uzu-leader were given this task.

The leader of the second protective unit was an Uzumaki, son of the clan leader.

A detonation. Nagisa turned her head, gazing at the trails of smoke and, in a sideways glance, caught sight of the city.

The city was crazier than she could ever imagine, more colorful and noisy than the capital of the Land of fire. Houses stacked on top of each other and connected with corridors and arches with no rhyme nor reason. Bridges and thin wooden walls carved with protecting seals and splashed with blotches of colors delimited each layer of the onion that was Uzushio. And with each layer peeled, the city would adopt a different style.

In the more modest layers, the outer ones, the houses were built of floating woods and a mix of sandstones and clays while the further inside you get, the less wood was used for housing and the sturdier the stones would get. Some layers would protect an important clan and so, the decorations would become the bastard children of the Uzumaki style and that clan style. The closer to the center you get, the more the Uzumaki's influence could be felt. The colors would never stray too far from their own and the seals would be plastered more evenly.

She heard through a discussion between her mother and her father that the best way to gauge Uzushio's financial condition, as well as the mental wellness of their citizens, was by observing the business ring. It was the only duty assigned to her Kazashi.

When children played in the fountain of white marbles, spraying cold water on passersby and laughing about it while adults gave chase to them, mothers trying to tame their brats or citizens peeved to be wet. When the clinking of glasses together meshed with the ambient noisiness of the island. It was then that one could see how truly prosperous Uzushio was. However, if the merchants' calls for attention were high pitched, their brows slightly furrowed, if the mothers lacked the usual springs in their steps when catching the kids, and if more people were sick. It was then her mother wrote a report for her grandfather.

Usually, the task of monitoring the population's wellness was left to the wives of the shinobi working inside the building above her house.

Another seemingly important fact was that everyone could use chakra in Uzushio, from children blasting bursts of colorful smokes as farts to farmers weaving simple earth or water jutsus for their crops. The distribution of simple knowledge was common enough to become a currency. When coins of copper or jade failed, people turned to acts of service and bartering seals as a way to pay.

All in all, Uzushio was very community-centered. Children were raised together. A few women were in charge of watching over the little ones while most women went washing clothes together, talking, laughing, and singing. Nagisa also learned of feasts and parties where everyone brought something, of the redistribution of used objects to the poor and sick, of the charity and bartering as another means of payment. But ultimately, she never witnessed them. Yet.

The island was always buzzing with activities; there were street vendors who screamed at top of their lungs and deeply tanned fishermen with gleaming eyes who sang with deep raucous voices like the roar of the sea. There were mischievous children who loved to dunk each other in the sea, dancers practicing their art everywhere, music, and laughter.

And the noise…If it wasn't music, street vendors, or children, it was the loud, bone-rattling explosions or some noisy jutsus. Uzushio was never quiet, so different from what she used to know and she loved it. It was strange, it felt so… Alive.

Nagisa watched from the beach the arrival of the ship of the fishermen with a smile. The dock was crowded to welcome the men and women home. Sometimes it felt like they were hailed as heroes.

During half a year, the fishermen of Uzushio indulged in whale-hunting and would be back for Benten-hime's day, where a huge feast would be thrown and most excess would be tolerated for the day.

Last year, Kazashi missed it because surprise, surprise, she was a summer baby –unlike the first time-, born on the 21st of June. And in less than a month, she would turn one.

Nagisa rushed back to her mother, ready to leave the beach.

Daichi met them on their way back, on the harbor. He was talking to a tanned man with hair as red as him, something akin to a smile on his lips. They separated with a loud tap on the shoulder.

It was that day she understood Daichi belonged to the important people. Everyone greeted him and called him 'Daichi-sama'. Some even called her 'Nagisa-hime'.

She had been so overwhelmed she cried. It may or may not have embarrassed her father, but at least they got home faster.

After the stroll, Nagisa would take a small nap. But she stopped falling asleep immediately, so she usually played with her chakra, trying to reach it and feeling it circulate inside of her until she fell asleep.

While it wasn't cold like her father, it wasn't warm either. There was a coolness in her hara, something intangible and moving, flowing. Something she just couldn't catch, seeping through her hands.

When nap time was over, Nagisa and Kazashi would cuddle against one another while she taught her the kanji and hiragana. Finally, she would be settled on the counter, watching her mother cook while she bugged her with questions.

...

What can she say, she has always been a curious child.

Her first birthday took her by surprise: she had received far more gifts than she expected.

Like tons.

This led to a question: had she other family members? Because that's far too much for only the three people she had met.

"Kaa-san, do you have siblings ?" She asked as she opened another pink baby blanket. Ugh, so much pink.

"No," her mother began, "I'm an only daughter."

Then who?

Her question must have been written on her face because Kazashi laughed. "It's from your father's side, it's quite a big family. Perhaps, if you ask nicely, your tou-san will bring you with him to meet them. You could thank them too."

Ask Daichi…?

That promised to be fun.


Her dad came home early today and he patted her head and kissed her forehead for her birthday, congratulating her for surviving this year. Though, he didn't doubt it because she was his daughter, whatever that meant. All in all, a very morbid and awkward thing to say to your daughter on her birthday.

Still, her stomach twisted while warmth invaded her cheeks. She cast her eyes down, overwhelmed by her own feelings.

Her heart was a fluttering mess as she was torn between two contrary feelings, both affection, and fear, and didn't quite know how to deal with it. Having parents was a first to her, to receive love and care without expectations. Old instincts screamed to not get attached, that she would get hurt, but her heart was weak to temptation and before she knew it, she had welcomed them in her heart.

Nagisa returned the gesture with her biggest smile and watched as his eyes softened.

Kazashi was leaning against the door, watching the father-daughter duo from the shadows, a soft smile grazing her lips.

The young girl took in a deep breath. Small hands on her hips, wobbly legs firmly planted on the ground, she adopted a business look: looking squared into his eyes, lips a thin line and squinting. She was sure it looked ridiculous on her baby face but he had to understand she meant business.

"Tou-san, tomorrow, I go with you." Not her most eloquent demand but it would have to work.

Daichi cocked a brow, unimpressed. "No."

"But!" She raised her arms before turning to her mom, pleading her case with her eyes. Help me, I don't know how to talk to him. "Please, tou-san, I'll be good."

Of course, Daichi was immunized to the puppy eyes; it wouldn't be challenging otherwise.

Her mother uncrossed her arms, collecting her in them before perching her up against her hips. "What she's trying to say is that she wants to meet your side of the family." Intervened her Kaa-san.

"Yes." She nodded sagely, fisting her mother's shirt.

He barely glanced her way, eyes boring into her mom's. "The lighthouse isn't a place for little kids-" Nagisa made an affronted noise, "-and I don't think she will meet many there."

Nagisa frowned.

Her mother simply smiled. "You can still present her to your father, I'm sure he will be delighted to see her."

His lips thinned as his eyes narrowed, clearly annoyed by the prospect, before he sighed. "Fine, but it's the last time I let you win that easily."

Kazashi giggled, high pitched and breathy, almost seductively, and casually took a few steps closer. "When have you ever win against me?"

In the background, Nagisa cringed.


Being awakened by Daichi was a strange change. He didn't hover above her with a sunny smile and sparkling eyes, he shook her awake and took her to the kitchen while she was still not awake. After waiting for a few seconds for Nagisa to fully emerge, her mother gave her food –some fried fish with rice - that she stubbornly ate alone.

Her mother, already used to her antics, simply put multiple towels around her and watched her destroyed her food with her chubby hands over the rim of her cup of tea. She snickered when her hand missed her mouth.

"My, my, our little angel isn't wide awake yet." Kazashi affectionately rubbed the food off her cheeks. "She does wake up an hour later." She added as an afterthought, confirming what she already knew: it was an ungodly hour to get up.

Daichi was eyeing her strangely, noting her every move before turning to her kaa-san with a strange glint in his eyes and a scoff on his lips. "She shouldn't have insisted to come if she couldn't make it."

Her mother sighed through her nose, rolling her eyes. "As father as daughter. It's not like you were much better the first few days after your promotion."

Daichi clicked his tongue, chewing his cheeks in but ultimately didn't refute. His face turned sourer when he spied the smirk on her mother's lips.

Nagisa watched the interaction with interest, her hand hovering over her mouth.

The relationship between her parents was weird; they didn't act like lovers. There was no soft glance, no sweet word, and no flamboyant declaration of love. The rare times her father was home with them, he would barely partake in any chore. Sometimes, she would witness a banter or two between them, something clearly indicating that they weren't strangers living together. But they were far and few.

The click of his cutlery shook her out of her thoughts and she watched as he rose and went back into his room, leaving her with her mom. Kazashi watched his back with a soft expression and a kind of longing that felt too intimate. Nagisa cast her eyes toward her food, embarrassed and awkward.

"So," her mother clapped her hands once, turning her attention back to her, "Have you finished eating? If we don't speed up, I'm afraid your father will leave you behind."

Yeah, Nagisa nodded to herself as she was whisked off the baby chair, the relationship between her parents was definitely weird.

After breakfast, it was just a matter of getting cleaned up and clothed –and she was happy to not wear the horrendous pink kimono she had been gifted the day before- before she waited for her father at the door.

"Enjoy your day, angelfish." Her mother smiled, reaching down to pinch her chubby cheek one last time, waving as both father and daughter left.

Outside, he presented her his hand, expecting her to grab it and walk alongside him. As if. She almost snorted.

Instead, she raised her arms. They stared at each other and probably stayed like that for a good minute, neither wanting to back down. Nagisa was even starting to scold, tears slowly brimming her eyes.

He relented first. "You're not as agreeable as I expected, Nagisa-chan."

Nagisa grinned. "I'm an Uzumaki."

Her father snorted. He. Snorted. She never thought she would see him do that. "That you are."

Nagisa was pleased with herself so far, despite having been woken up at the crack of dawn, her day looked to be promising.

They shared a comfortable silence for the rest of their way… up. She blinked at Daichi.

Up?

Up was where only the big building thrumming with chakra was, down was where everything was, the street vendors, the fishermen, the artists, the ropemakers, and so on.

Nagisa unconsciously tilted her head and squinted as if she was faced with the greatest mystery of this world before shrugging. Her father knew what he was doing.

Being in front of the big building was something else. It all but screamed fancy with its whiter than white stones and it's blacker than black tiles. Even the ground was not your average stone; it was marble.

To enter the fancy building, they had to cross a hedge of colored pillars and a garden of odorous flowers that should not have been blooming during this season if it wasn't for the thousands of seals scattered around.

She knew that when the Uzumaki did things; it wasn't half-assed. They had more of a 'go big or go home' kind of mentality.

And if she thought the chakra building was overwhelming from where they lived, up close, it was even worse. She squirmed in discomfort and tried to wrap her small chakra around her, hoping it would act as a barrier.

It didn't.

Her father jolted, attention zeroing on her.

"Nagisa, what did you just do?"

"It feels," she started, somewhat startled "weird."

It was like breathing water, hard and borderline painful.

Disbelief painted his face before he let out in a small breathy voice. "You're a sensor."

A strange flame ignited in his eyes. Nagisa did not like it.

"You won't be that overwhelmed inside," he added, the ghost of a smile on his face "The stones are a bit chakra absorbent."

Nagisa hummed.

Inside, it wasn't as bad, just like Daichi said, a bit cold, a bit dark, a bit too quiet. Nagisa watched with some interest. Unlike the rest of the island, the inside wasn't colorful or even decorated, just plain naked walls.

They walked for what seemed minutes before he stopped, hold tightening. While still being relaxed, her father felt stiffed, tensed.

Footsteps.

Nagisa perked up. People were coming their way.

"Oh, Dai-chan!" A woman with deep dark red hair tucked in a lovely kimono with turtles on it, raised her free arm, beaming. In the other, she held a small bundle. "It's been so long, 'ttebare."

At her side, the tall man – taller than her father - with a scar crossing his face – from his left temple to his right cheek - simply nodded. "Daichi. I see you brought your daughter."

"Namiyo." Her father answered back, his arm curling just a bit more around her, "You did just the same."

Namiyo crossed his arms, sighing, "Yes, I don't know how you handled father's nagging-"

Nagisa threw her head back as the woman suddenly appeared in her sight, innocently blinking at her startled face before a beautiful smile bloomed on her face.

"And look at you," the gorgeous woman pinched her cheek, "what a beautiful little girl you are. Small and healthy!"

Putting a hand on her cheek, trying to soothe the mild pain, she watched the woman with wide eyes.

What the hell...

"Kazashi did a good job, Dai-chan. But you didn't." The woman tutted with faux annoyance. Nagisa blinked, face whitening. Did she just insult them? "You should've presented her a long time ago."

Oh, that's what she meant. Inwardly, the child put a hand over her heart and sighed her relief. It was too early for her to throw a tantrum to defend their honors.

Her father sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Mizu, Namiyo, this is my daughter, Nagisa-chan. Nagisa-chan, this is my brother, Namiyo, and his wife Mizu." He shifted his hold on her, tucking her under his chin. "Happy?"

His tone was different, a bit deeper, a bit gentler than she was used to and he didn't use a suffix for either of them. You don't use one only if you know very well the other.

The excitable woman was far too happy to really care. She turned to her again, a big grin on her lips.

"Yes! Nagisa-chan, nice to meet you! You can call me Auntie Mizu if you want. Say, did you like the kimono? You know, the pink one." She didn't receive a ton of kimono so she immediately knew which kimono she was talking about. The horrendous one. "Oh, look! Nagisa-chan, Dai-chan, this is my bundle of joy, Mito-chan."

Mizu was firing questions and sentences one after the others without taking a breath, swaying from time to time. Nagisa was almost afraid she would collapse at some point.

Nagisa gasped, peering inside the burrito. "She's so little!"

The baby wasn't ugly, per se. It was just red and chubby, like really chubby.

Mizu nodded eagerly. "Isn't she? She's only a month old."

"We should go Mizu, you're still recovering after all." Namiyo interrupted.

Mizu frowned, "But…" She glanced at them.

"And Mito will need to eat soon." Namiyo added, "You'll talk another time, alright?"

"Okay," she relented, "Dai-chan, Nagisa-chan, see you soon!"

"It was nice meeting you, Nagisa-chan. Let's hope you and Mito will become good friends. Daichi, see you around."

Nagisa nodded dumbly, too dazzled to do much more.

And they were gone in a flurry of red hairs and gibberish squeals. The little girl watched their backs until they were out of earshot.

"Tou-san, how many siblings do you have?" She asked after assuring herself they would not turn around.

"Seven."

She spluttered, all but shoving her seven fingers in his face. "Seven?"

"Yes but that's eight." He answered evenly, pushing one finger down. Ah, she would've to work on her coordination.

But that explained things, mainly all the gifts.

"Are they all as happy as she is?"

"Thankfully, no."

Apparently, her father worked in the big building. He had an office in there with one really soft-looking couch that she immediately claimed as hers. She was right in that spot where the sun warmed her and if she closed her eyes like she just did, listening intently to Daichi going through scrolls, she will…


She woke up disoriented and a bit too warm.

Her father was gone, but she had gained a blanket in between.

And obviously, no one told Daichi how bad of an idea it was to leave your little girl who can more or less walk on her own, alone. It was asking for problems.

She could stay in the office, but… Boooriiing. Or she could explore on her own.

She was out before you could say 'cat'.

Exploring as a toddler meant that everything seemed bigger and scarier than it was. Being pint-sized and weak did that to you.

Her legs threatened to give out from underneath her after scouring the palace for hours –or what it felt like- and she still found nothing interesting, except for big stairs that she did not want to use.

But, as she turned an umpteen corner, she found a big garden with only white flowers and some kind of fountain where she could catch her breath.

The flowers were pretty, and she almost gave in to the urge of touching them if it wasn't for the voice that spoke in her back.

"And what a child like you is doing in my garden?"

Nagisa shrieked, startled tears forming in her eyes and flailing a bit. She turned so fast, she slipped and ended on her rear.

"And quite clumsy."

The old man staring at her over his white mustache was not amused. "So? Speak up." And his chakra… It was like being caught in a net, every movement you make would only entangle you more.

Was it legal to bully a toddler? Pretty sure it wasn't. Or it shouldn't. Did he even know she was only a year old?

With her emotions all over the place, she could only mutter "Tou-san."

Damn, was she regretting her decision right now? Yes, she was.

"And who is your Tou-san?"

Come on, give that child a break…

"Daichi."

His whole demeanor changed, he relaxed and his chakra came back to him.

"Oh? You're little Nagisa?"

How did he know her name in the first place? She nodded, wary.

"I'm Uzumaki Ashina, your grandfather." He kneeled in front of her. "But you have no reason to be here." And he took her in his arms.

She shouldn't let a stranger carry her in his arms like that. He may claim to be her grandfather but until her father confirmed it, she couldn't relax.

He stepped into an office across the garden. It was huge, just like his beard. And there was a mountain of scrolls waiting on the brown desk.

He smelled like paper and ink and he was warm. His hair was making some odd clicks that she just had to know why. So she petted it, but only for scientific purposes. Not because she had some strange urge to satisfy.

It was beads, she realized once she was sure he wouldn't scold her, it was the tiny white braids with beads at the end that clicked together. His whole hairstyle was thin braids with beads.

The beads fascinated her. Turning it this way and that, appreciating the cool feeling of the little drawing carved in it under her thumb.

The man chuckled, a hand-warming her back as he sat down. "You're just like your father. He, too, was fascinated by my beads when he was little."

"The little drawing feels funny." She explained.

He threw his head back, letting a loud laugh out. "Drawing… Those are seals, child."

Of fucking course. Carved seals beads. Why didn't she think about it?

"But do you know why I have so many?"

She shook her head, puzzled.

"They represent my shinobi age: a bead for every year I survived as a shinobi."

And with his hair full of beads- Holy shit. He's the real deal, a veteran. Her mouth fell open.

"Baah… It's an old tradition that only my eldest seemed to follow nowadays. Ichigo." Someone appeared in a burst of smoke in her back. She jumped. "Alert Daichi that his daughter is with me."

"By your command, Leader-sama."

She needed a moment to proceed with that. At some point, he shifted his hold to free both hands and so, she was draped across his chest, head pressed against his heartbeat, trying to really process everything.

Boum-boum.

Are you kiddin-

Boum-boum.

Why?

Boum-boum.

Why was I reborn as the granddaughter of Uzushio's leader?

It only occurred to her later, once her father brought her back after a good scolding, that she did not thank any of them.

But she learned quite a bit about her father.

He was the fourth child of Ashina Uzumaki and he had seven siblings. Two –the third and the seventh- died. The rest were still alive.

She only met two siblings that day: his older brother Namiyo – the second - and his younger sister Aki – the fifth.

The eldest, Kazuo was busy creating alliances for Uzushio on land in exchange for seals while the sixth – Kaï - was the leader of the platform barrier unit. Rina, the youngest, was the free spirit of the family, wild and untamable; she couldn't be tied anywhere. No one really knew where she was, just that she was roaming the land of Fire and was alive.


"Kaa-san, why Nagisa?"

She was almost two now and fully in control of her limbs. She didn't trip anymore!

Haha, she wished.

Her mother stopped humming and turned to catch her as she proceeded to trip over nothing, trying to approach her.

Her hairs were down today, dancing around her frame with each movement she made. Nagisa took a handful. Grabbing everything she could reach was a baby instinct she still couldn't get over.

But she liked her mother's hair. They felt soft between her chubby fingers and her red was far less bright than her own.

"You want to know why we named you Nagisa?" Bright blue eyes peering into hers, a gentle smile tugging on her lips, she tilted her head in wonder.

She nodded.

Kazashi brought her into the living room before sitting her down on her knees and giving her a stick. Then with a burst of warm chakra, she extracted the clay tablet from the storage seal.

With gentle movements, her mother guided her hand, Nagisa traced the kanji for her name. The stick, while smaller than a brush, felt clumsy and wobbly in her hand.

渚. Nagisa. Shore.

And next to her name, they wrote her mother's name and on the other side, her father's.

海良. Kazashi. Good Ocean.

大地. Daichi. Great Earth.

"It's because you're the link between your father and me, you are born from the meeting between the earth and the sea."

Oh.

It was only for poetic purposes? She was slightly disappointed. Everything here was meaningful and while hers was beautiful, she expected something… more.

"But let me tell you a secret." She continued, smile widening. "I had a feeling when you were here," She patted her stomach lovingly, "that just like the shore to the sea and land, you'll bridge two sides. Or at least, help to bridge them."

How strange. Nagisa felt something warming her guts, spreading into her chest. I never expected to love you that much.

"Kaa-san, what are those?" She asked, pointing to the fruit her mother was looking at.


Safely encased in Kazashi's arms, she leaned forward, trying to touch the strange fruit.

The vendor, an old woman –her hair was still vividly bright, she must not be that old yet but her face was full of wrinkles, so Nagisa was a bit confused here- smiled warmly and gave her a pat on the head, eyes laughing.

What can she say? She had always been curious.

"How old is she?"

"Nearing two," answered her mother before quietly admonishing her. Pointing was not polite.

"She talks so well! I remember when my boy was this old, such a mischievous little boy." She chuckled, showing her crooked teeth. "Yours seems calmer but more curious." She told her mother before showing her one fruit. "Those are called rambutan and we eat them like this." And she peeled one and gave her. "Chew it like there's no tomorrow."

Nagisa squinted - seems like a trap - before shrugging - but it's food - and doing it.

She scrunched her nose at the taste. It was sour. Chills ran down her body. She sent them a betrayed look.

Her mother barked a laugh, shoulders shaking and head thrown back. "She's too young to really appreciate it, Obaa-san."

"So it would seem, so it would." She said, laughing quietly.

Her first two years of her life as Nagisa Uzumaki were spent in wonder.

Living in Uzushio was like living on the sea: unpredictable and thrilling. Addictive. There was always a loud noise to quicken your heartbeat, a feast held in the honor of someone, someone singing, dancing, or laughing.

Uzushio was something she never knew she needed and now she couldn't live without it.

It felt like a family. Uzushio felt like home.

Her third year started differently.

...

To be continued?


And here we are.

Maria, now Nagisa, did, in fact, travel back in time but not like you might have expected it!

The man that Daichi talks with on the harbor is his brother, Kai.

"Time is a linear continuum of instants." is not from me but the philosopher Adolf Grünbaum.

Hope you like it!

(By the way, I'm not an English speaker native so if you found typos or grammar errors, you're welcome to correct me)

I'm out!