Warning! This story will include and may not be limited to: cursing, alcohol, sex, violence, blood, torture, rape, mental illnesses, self-harm, suicide, and character death.

I will not write these out before each chapter they apply to, so this is your only warning.

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During my life I watched countless anime, movies, and series, and read almost more books, novels, and fanfiction. Ever since I could hold a pen in my hands, I had written stories, letting my imagination take me to new worlds and new adventures. And while I wrote a lot of original fantasy, I also wrote my fair share of fanfiction. So, of course I had written about reincarnation – reincarnating in our world or anime, with or without my memories. But never did I believe in these things, no matter how much I hoped for them to be true.

Before I continue to the direction you're already probably guessing this will lead, I need to mention one more thing. I was also chronically depressed. When I was fifteen, I wrote my 25-year-old self a letter, telling me to kill myself if life turned out to be nothing good. Most would probably think it ridiculous.

I remember that particular midsummer well. I had turned twenty-five just a month ago. It was Saturday morning, and the sun was shining through the curtains, slowly creeping towards my eyes with its rays. I was sitting on my bed, the pillows and blankets in a pile in the corner of the bed. I had not slept at all, but I wasn't particularly tired. In front of me was a white sheet of paper.

I'm not too fond of that memory and nobody else would probably even be interested in it, so I won't go into details, and I'll just say it: I killed myself that morning.

My most prominent feeling was at first a wave of relief. Finally, it was all over. I could rest and I wouldn't have to feel anxious about anything anymore – not about the reactions of others or what they thought about me. No more anxiety over every little thing.

But damn it hurt to die. It hurt like hell. I tried to scream, but was unable. After all, I was already dead. For a moment I thought that it had been a stupid idea to kill myself. What would everyone think? What if it didn't work? They would kill me. Well, not really, but you probably get the idea. I was more scared of surviving than dying.

I think you can guess how scared I was when I actually opened my eyes after a time that felt like hours – those hours full of pain and the urge to scream and shout.

But then I realized that it wasn't a hospital. It wasn't even my own room. Someone was holding me. 'Fuck' was the only word I could think of, and it kept repeating like a mantra inside my head. Fear was crippling me, as I had a scary idea of what was going on. I had watched enough anime and other series.

Reincarnation? Seriously? I had thought that suicide would get you a one-way ticket to hell and zero changes at redemption. But it was starting to seem like that wasn't true.

My fears only grew stronger when my eyesight got a little better. I couldn't tell how much time had passed but now I understood that despite my earlier beliefs I was in a hospital after all. I just hadn't realized it since if I would've been in a normal hospital in my hometown I would've probably been chained to the bed and there would've been numerous beeping machines and tubes and other hospital stuff around me.

The next thing I realized was that I was tiny as hell. Miniature, like a baby. Even smaller. This is bullshit.

So, I was a baby. Human baby in a hospital. The next thing to do was to find out where on Earth I was. Was I even on Earth? Some other world? Some other time?

At this point I started thinking about how I could keep myself so…apart from my mind of a baby. I didn't feel like a baby at all – if one doesn't count the smallness of my body. This train of thought led me to think about whether I would remember or forget my previous life. Forgetting seemed more plausible. If someone like me got reincarnated, then surely others would've experienced it as well. And if they remembered a thing like this, surely they would've talked about it more openly, making it a widely known and taught thing. Which it wasn't. And that could only mean that I would forget everything.

Of course, I was somewhat disappointed at the fact that I would forget – but slowly I realized that I was mostly just happy, relieved. My previous life wasn't really worth remembering.

As days – or hours? Maybe they were only minutes – begun to pass by my eyesight got gradually better and I could make out the face of the one holding me. She was most likely my new mother. Her face was relatively round, and she seemed smaller than the average woman from my country. Her skin was pale and hair dark brown, eyes dark and narrow.

She had no blue, levitating hair, or horns, or tail, or anything other out of the ordinary. It seemed likely that I was still on the same planet I had previously lived on. That was both a relief and a letdown. It meant that my life would once again be boring and eventless, but relatively safe and similar to my old one.

It didn't take long for the next realization to hit me after I had reached this conclusion. I could see the room and realized it was not a normal hospital. There was no hospital machinery that I had expected. The walls were yellowish brown, windows small and round. All in all, it reminded me of Sunagakure from Naruto. I felt a small spark of excitement, but I quickly snuffed it. I knew it was too much for me. I could never have something like that.

But then came the doctor. He was dressed in a white…dress-like thing. Maybe it was just a big cloak. But when I saw what he was wearing around his head…I could've died from pure excitement. It was a hitai ate, just like the ones used in Naruto, and it bore the symbol of Sunagakure.

"Shh, it's alright." Someone suddenly petted my head. I had started kicking and crying without even realizing it. How pitiful.

Alright, calm down. Let's think rationally about this shit, I tried to calm myself. So. I was seriously in Naruto, and more precisely in Sunagakure. I was so dead. Both from excitement and from the fact that every other person here could kill me without another thought. But at least it would be exciting.

As soon as this became clear, I had a passing thought about changing the plot of Naruto, but it was quickly replaced by a bigger need inside me.

I almost hated to admit it to even myself, but I loved the feeling that filled me when someone was holding me. Soon I realized it was the feeling that had been missing from my previous life: the feeling of knowing someone cared about me. I had always wondered what it would be like to really be with someone, for someone to love and care about me. And then I understood I could have that all. To hell with changing the plot – thought it would of course be a bonus – I wanted to just experience love as cliché as it may have sounded.

I decided on one thing: I would get myself a damn boyfriend and live an amazing life and would raise kids and all that nice shit.

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I spent the first few years of my new life trying to understand the language. I understood some – I had studied Japanese – but this was a whole new thing. I learned quickly and spent my time like any other kid – eating and crying and whining and pretty much ruining my parents' life.

I had decided I would not just lie back with this new chance. As soon as I could I started training with my older sister – for some reason my mother avoided me, and my father was always on some mission. These practices mostly consisted of running around the house and playing hide and seek but maybe that was only for the better at my age of few years – even if my mind was one of a 25-year-old's, my body was not.

My name was Kuroyuri. I didn't understand the name – I had never heard of it – but apparently it was the name of a certain plant. Under our small apartment there was an underground greenhouse full of different kinds of plants and flowers. Kuroyuri might've been a nice-looking flower, but it smelled like crap. Slowly I started to wonder whether my mother hated me for some reason.

I had no surname, as was the case with most people in Suna. There were no clans in Suna, only families, so apparently surnames were not needed. My family was small – me, my sister who was six years older than me, and our parents. I saw my sister the most. Her name was Akari, and she had almond-colored skin and blazing red hair almost as thick as my own. My own skin was maybe honey-colored, but as for my hair… I couldn't really tell. Sometimes I would say it was orange, sometimes brown, and other times red. For some reason the color reminded me of squirrels.

I had decided that I would live a wonderful life. I wouldn't have to be a shinobi, though it would probably be interesting. I had also slowly understood that the memories of my previous life weren't disappearing anywhere, though they seemed to blur every time I let them be – making space for new memories and new me that seemed a lot more courageous than the previous one. But I was still as sadistic as before, I quickly realized.

My next goal was to find out where I had been dropped in the Naruto timeline.