A/N: My second Naruto fanfic but first oneshot. Please R&R! I wanna know if my Naruto fanfics are any good or if I should just give it up.
A baby cried in the other room. Her mother struggled to get up from the sofa she had been sitting on. Her silver hair danced around as she made her way to the crib. She was pregnant with another baby, her firstborn a year old. The baby stopped crying as her mother picked her up, cuddling her and singing the song her father used to sing. She and her baby had the same piercing green eyes, although her baby showed signs of pink hair. Her baby fell back asleep and she was set back into her crib, her blanket pulled to her chin. Her mother kissed her forehead and returned to the sofa.

She sighed, picking up a photo of her mother and father on their wedding day. They had looked so happy together. They had been happy together, up until she was five. Her family experienced difficult times. War spread throughout the lands and Konoha was caught in it. Her mother was an experienced medic-nin and her father a brave Jounin. They took turns watching their family as the other helped in the war. But when the war worsened, both had to full time, leaving as early as 4 AM and returning as late as midnight. During that time, Aunt Hinata, although not related to her at all, had taken care of her and her brother while Uncle Naruto was also out at war. A great deal of times occurred where Aunt Hinata had had to spend the night in her house because her parents were out so late. Later, Aunt Hinata brought her own daughter and son over and started "living" in the house full time, picking up her mother's work. She cooked, cleaned, watched over the four children and still found time for herself. Uncle Naruto was rarely at home anymore, the war being so tough.

The mother sighed, putting down the photo. Things had changed so much. She had been born into a time of chaos and suffering. Her baby, on the other hand, and her next baby would be born into a time of peace. She was glad; she wouldn't have chosen any other time. Her children's happiness came before hers. She stared at the ceiling, reminiscing again.

Seeing Aunt Hinata instead of her mother became natural to her as the war progressed. She became happy playing with Shiru, Aunt Hinata's daughter, and her brother became happy playing with Bakiru, Aunt Hinata's son. Time passed and the four children grew older. When she was nine, there was a guest at her house. It was a messenger from the war. She had been old enough to decipher the messenger's grim face. Something bad was going to happen. Aunt Hinata ushered the children into the living room before talking to the messenger in the kitchen. Five minutes later, the messenger and Aunt Hinata came out of the kitchen and the messenger left. Aunt Hinata sat her and her brother down. She explained that their father had been sent out on a mission a few days ago and he had been reported dead just today. Tears welled up in her brother's eyes as he heard this. She was stunned. Was her father not the great Jounin her mother had so often talked about? The tears stung her eyes as they fell. Aunt Hinata hugged them both and gave them sympathy, tears streaming down her cheeks as well. Nothing was alright anymore. It had never been alright.

Her mother returned a few days later, exhausted and in bad condition. Mud and blood covered her medic-nin uniform as she stumbled through the door. Aunt Hinata received her and laid her on the couch. She and her brother each gave her a hug, smelling the strong, bitter aroma of various medicines. Their mother gave them each a hug, smiled and fell asleep. She slept for several days, waking up every so often to drink a cup of warm tea before falling back to sleep. Aunt Hinata stayed with them a while longer.

She wasn't sure what happened next, but she remembered being in the living room with her brother, Shiru, Bakiru and Aunt Hinata. They were gathered around the couch where her mother lay, gasping heavily and sweating. Her cheeks were a bright red. Aunt Hinata explained that their mother was very ill. She and her brother, not wanting to lose their mother as well, took turns taking of her. Nothing seemed to work. Their mother got worse everyday. Aunt Hinata finally called a doctor one day. He said it was working too hard and a disease she had probably caught from one of the soldiers. Scared, she and her brother made sure she was as comfortable as they could make her.

The funeral was at 10 AM. Their mother's fellow nurses as well as family friends stood around as the Hokage preached. Her mother and her father, whose body was preserved and brought back, were buried right next to each other. As the two coffins were lowered into the ground, two white roses were thrown into each grave. She and her brother, after the funeral, went into their rooms and cried. Aunt Hinata took them in when they would've been thrown onto the streets.

The war finally ended. She was 16. Uncle Naruto returned home, mourning over the loss of his companions and their father and mother, who were also very close to him. He helped Aunt Hinata take care of the two orphans. Life returned to normal, or as normal as it could get. Then, her brother came down with an illness. It was the same as her mother had had. She was helpless. She watched the last of her family was buried next to her mother and father. She felt out of place inside the Uzamaki family. They spent most of their time at their house now, constantly inviting her over. But she usually stayed inside the house she had grown up in. It was hers now. Everything that belonged to her family was hers now. She took up two jobs as a part-time waitress and a part-time maid in a hotel. They both paid fairly well and she got by. Shiru and Bakiru had gone off to and graduated ninja by this time. Now they were constantly out on missions, being Chuunins. They were lucky enough to end up on the same team together. She was all alone. All on her own in this cruel world.

At the age of 18, she had quit her two jobs and pursued a career as a craftswoman. She was handy with her ands and quite creative. Basket weaving, weaving, sewing, crocheting, she could do it all. She pulled in a steady stream of money, more than the two jobs combined. Then, she met him. She was selling her wares in the market when he passed by. He glanced at her and walked over, a smile on his face. They started a steady conversation over her products, eventually learning each other's names and more. He asked her out and she accepted, sure that this would work out. It did.

She smiled at this next part of memories. It was probably the only part that she was truly happy.

He proposed at dinner, on Valentine's Day, one year after they started dating. By 20, she had a lot of money, her own house and her own permanent stall in the market. Everything had been going good ever since he came around. She blushed fiercely and stammered a yes. Two months went by.

Her marriage. Her happiest moment perhaps. She remembered it all. She felt flying, flying away from her several years of loneliness. Finally, after all these years, she had someone by her side.

Her second happiest moment. The birth of her baby girl. Her firstborn had her and her mother's eyes. Later, she showed signs of having her grandfather's hair. Strangely, she showed no sign of traits from her father's side. Having a family again, she lived a happy life. Then, it happened.

Her happiness only lasted a two months after she became pregnant with a, hopefully, a boy, her firstborn a year old now. Her husband was killed in a hit-and-run accident. Again, she was faced with having to live alone again. Her money dropped slightly, but she was able to bring up more. She was determined to let her kids live the life she never had.

Her memories ended here. It had only been a month since her husband died. She sighed. Where did her life go wrong? It started with the war, she was sure. She should've been proud of the courageous ninjas that were her parents. She realized that now. And she was proud of them. Proud of the heroic blood that ran in her veins. Proud of the blood that ran in her children's veins. Proud of the successful life she now led. She might've not been proud of her parents before, but now she was. She was proud to be their daughter.

She was Shyiara, daughter of Sakura Haruno, a famous medic-nin, and Hatake Kakashi, a heroic Jounin.