If there's anything I've learned these past three years, it's that this world is brutal. I knew that Naruto wasn't some fairy tale, but good lord… kami, whatever. The point is that no one seems to care that a toddler is being worked to the bone. It isn't 24/7, but it is more than a full-time job with plenty of overtime. The other changes I've dealt with haven't exactly made the adjustment easier.
My body doesn't make any sense. I'm stronger and more durable than any child this young should be. And the level of resistance I've been able to develop is insane. The obvious answer is chakra. Though I suspect it runs deeper than that. I don't think people in this world are strictly human in the way I remember. Even when I don't actively use chakra, my strength and endurance exceed what 12 year olds in my past life could do. I can spend all day training and using my body without long-term adverse effects. A full-grown adult could handle the pace we've set. It wouldn't be good for them, mind you. But a typical four year old should have died from exhaustion by now. My growth hasn't been at a rapid pace by any means. I doubt the village is about to crown me Hokage. But I've improved at a steady and noticeable pace.
Even during routine stretches, I can feel a difference between this body and my last. When I was a cheerleader I was pretty damn good at doing the splits. Well… I was close to being alright at them. People always called me a tight-ass back then. It just happened to apply to my muscles as well. These days I put Cirque du Soleil to shame. And that's just what an overtrained child can do. My dear mother seems to be a total nobody Chunin, and she scares me whenever she decides to move fast. The worst part is how dead quiet it is. Not every ninja has learned how to walk quietly. Akiime can sprint silently. "Come my flower. It's time for throwing practice." Speak of the devil, and she'll sneak up on you.
I don't mind the training. At times like this it becomes a mindless exercise. Throw the kunai, hit the target, throw the shuriken, hit the target. Though I must admit, there's a low kind of satisfaction that comes with building strength. Is that why men would strut around the gym like peacocks? Is that what I've become? Memories of me cooing at myself as I stretched in front of the mirror started pouring in. The twitch my mind gives causes me to completely miss what I was aiming at. I'm so distraught by my descent into darkness that I almost don't see my mother's raised eyebrow. "We can just start working on stamina if you're going to be sloppy." Shit.
Poison resistance is a welcome reprieve from training with mother. In the same way that the seventh circle of hell is a nice change of scenery from the sixth. Progression with poison is a lesson in misery. Once you can handle one, something worse takes its place. This hasn't been some slow descent into madness either. The pace we've been setting is even more brutal than the usual work. I guess Hin has finally been seduced to the dark side by my mother. Before, she was my strongest ally. Always trying to get me out of training and pestering my mother to leave me behind. Now she doesn't even try to get me some alone time! She just pops in for a lesson twice a week, watches me drink poison, and leaves as quickly as she came in. Abandoning a poor sickly girl to the tender mercy of the drill sergeant.
Hin catches me looking at her while I wait for the lesson to continue. It wasn't a glare or anything. My thoughts just have me observing her… aggressively. She breaks the silence by asking, "Why do you think we're building your resistance before learning anything else?" There's a level of tension in Hin's words that I can't place the source of. It's been there for weeks, bubbling up in these little moments. However, I can't remember a time that she expressed it so readily. I can feel it sticking to me like the sweat dripping down my face.
"For safety and knowledge," comes my curt reply. Hin enjoys asking me questions after injecting me with that day's poison. The questions were usually related to my symptoms, what kind of poison was used, and what the antidote was. I like to think it's a lesson in pushing through adversity and hiding weakness from the enemy. However, I'm starting to believe that Hin has been a closeted sadist this whole time.
My trial today is a new one. Sweat and nausea are old friends at this point. The room swimming around me is a very unwelcome plus one. My bed sheets are shimmering like a mirage at the bottom of the ocean. It's oddly beautiful in an, oh my god I want to die kind of way. Its motion so entrances me that I almost miss Hin's narrowed eyes and quick command. "Elaborate."
I find it hard to answer at first. Probably due to my deep intellect forming the perfect response. Possibly because her face has begun to swirl in a way that reminds me of cotton candy. "Safety is obvious. I could nick myself, release gas in the area I'm in, or I might have to poison myself to get the target." Hin's blank face prompts me to continue. "Then knowledge. How can I expect to know what poison to use if I don't know how it feels? It is one thing to be told what it does to someone. It's another to know."
I take the grunt she gives as glowing praise of my intellect it was intended to be. Lesson seemingly over, Hin rises quickly and makes for the door like usual. Though the package she drops on my table is new. "Practice with these before I return. Next lesson, we'll start working on poisoning someone else." I hope the shaky thumbs up sends my message across. I can't feel my face enough to give the grin I'm feeling.
The start of my poison lessons signaled the beginning of many changes in my little bubble. Mother and I rarely went out before. Now, if it isn't essential it doesn't happen. Skipping some of the mother-daughter bonding activities isn't a problem for me. But it has solidified some of the things I've thought about her. I've been ambivalent at best towards her since my rebirth. I don't resent her for not being my real mother or anything. I just can't find it in me to feel much towards her. Though I admit, it is pretty hypocritical.
I want to be trained, she wants to train me. I want to learn how to be a shinobi, she wants me to learn to be a shinobi. I want to be a damn good one, she definitely wants me to be a damn good one. I just find the way she goes about it to be so distasteful. A good mother, hell a good person doesn't start training a six month old the moment they display abnormal intelligence. A reasonable person wouldn't try to indoctrinate a toddler into becoming a killer for hire. And they don't take so much pleasure in seeing that toddler get better at it every day.
I'm not an unwilling participant by any means. And aside from the training, she treats me better than most mothers would with a kid like me. I get everything I ask for, she's never hurt me outside of training, and she seems to enjoy my company. In a lot of ways, Ikeda Akiime is a wonderfully loving mother. It's just twisted in a way I doubt I could fully comprehend. To Akiime I'm more than a tool, less than a person, but still her daughter. She talks about me being the family's salvation more than she talks to me. I find myself feeling sad for her more than anything else. Though I doubt she feels the same way towards me with how rough she gets.
I had asked to start sparring with her after I had turned four. It surprised me when she refused to even think about it. She wanted me to grow stronger before putting me up against anyone, even herself. She wanted my first sparring partner to be a classmate in the academy.
Her opinion shifted without warning or reason. Our first spar took place after one of my first poison lessons. It was more brutal than I thought Akiime could manage. She was dispassionate in how she attacked me and my flaws—knocking me down into the dirt time and time again. What I would want in a teacher perhaps, but I prefer my mother to be less clinical when tossing her child around. We had to get doctor oldy to fix up all the bruises I was dealing with so that I could walk straight. I couldn't tell if the goal was to scare me or show me how far I needed to go. All I knew was that it excited me like I couldn't believe.
I wanted it. The strength she had and the ability to be so destructive. It was intoxicating. I needed more than just to see it at a distance. I knew I wanted to be strong, but it was an abstract feeling at best. Something I put together once I gained consciousness as a six month old baby. But feeling the bruises on my skin and blood in my mouth made it real. I hope my red smile didn't scare the doc too much while he fixed me up. I couldn't help it. How was I supposed to hide my joy when I could see a future where I'd have all that power and more.
The only thing that gave me pause was how much of a buzzkill Akiime had become. During training she acts similar to before, if more severe. The professionalism she always had gained an edge I didn't realize it was missing. That I could deal with. What was bad were the times when we weren't training. Rest days might as well be a funeral for how dour she gets. She just looks at me and constantly sighs. It's enough to make a girl feel self-conscious. I tried counting how many she could do in an hour, but my still budding vocabulary couldn't keep up. It worsens when she talks about the family or looks at old photos. Mother gets this kicked puppy look that could drive tears from stone. Then she turns those sad eyes on me, and I'm forced to sit in her lap at emotional gunpoint.
None of that would be a real problem for me, except for how clingy she has become. I don't have a moment of peace in this house anymore. The family home is massive. It has plenty of room for ten people and their dogs to live comfortably. Yet the only time I don't see her is in the bathroom or when I close my eyes. We don't even sleep separately anymore. I am constantly inundated with 'I love you' and affirmations. I gave up before long on finding out what caused this. Knowing ninja, it's probably for the best I don't find out. Mental trauma this young can't be good for you.
It's a perfect day for ass-kicking I think. There was a faint breeze in the training grounds, enough to keep you cool but not enough to throw off your aim. The sun's rays were just that ideal temperature for a spar. Not that I had much time to appreciate nature.
I spin out of the way of a kick and divert the fist that comes right behind it. Mother doesn't believe in giving breathing room on a good day. Any opportunities I find are ones she leaves intentionally, either for a trap or a test. The air sings a sharp whistle as a limb invades the space my head once occupied. The spar's rhythm starts to bleed into me. Years' worth of effort encased in a beautiful dance. Dodge, block, and remember your footwork to negate that leg sweep. Constant movement is critical when fighting in close combat. Ninja tend to maintain a quick pace in a spar or actual combat. Part of making it out alive is learning to accelerate your thinking to keep up with it. Whether it be with chakra or by building up the battle instincts needed. Even in the few months we've been sparring, I can't help but notice how better I've gotten at reading and reacting to combat.
She still stays a step ahead of me every spar. Exerting a little more force or speed than I can match physically. The frustration and pain it causes have been an excellent teacher in efficiency. My movements must be sharp to keep from being overwhelmed. The only way I can win is through planning and careful maneuvering. If I come up with something good or use my tools creatively, mother allows me to lead her where I want her. But she smacks it and me down ruthlessly if it's a poor plan or something that wouldn't fly in the field.
Today's gambit was riskier than I liked. She'd been staying close more than usual today. I hadn't been given a chance to create distance and start turning the tides, so I'd have to make my own opening. All I had to work with were a couple of kunai, some shuriken, and a senbon covered in "poison". My ninjutsu consisted of jack with my genjutsu equaling shit. Mother was stronger and faster than me, with a longer reach even if I was tall for my age. I was capable of laying a couple of wire traps at this point, but so far only one of us had ever been allowed to booby trap the field. I'll let you guess which one that was.
The main advantages I could see were the terrain and a half-baked plan to use it. Through the use of cunning, quick thinking, and occasionally getting my ass tossed in the right direction, I led us to the only hill in the field. Admittedly, hill was a strong word. It resembled a speedbump that the earth thought should be about 4 feet high. Just enough to have something resembling a slope. It didn't do much besides making it slightly harder to get hit and give me a higher place to fall from. Perfect, I only had to hope the grin didn't give my scheme away.
It only took a few more steps for me to mount the summit. Mother wasted no time in pushing to take away the slight advantage I'd gained. And like a dutiful daughter, I yielded it to her. One step back to let a right hook slide by my nose, close enough to allow the accompanying foot to connect where I wanted it to. I jumped backward as it struck, turning her attack into the momentum I needed. Three shuriken were in my hand before my feet had touched the ground again. I launched them as quickly as I could. It didn't matter if they got close, only the response.
There's a particular art in knowing when to throw deadly objects at other people. It takes time to grab them, time to aim, time to throw, and often the movement of launching them can make it awkward to attack or defend in close quarters. Yet the threat of them can easily shape the flow of a fight. A genin can kill a kage if they don't dodge a well-aimed kunai. But it doesn't take a kage to punish an ill-advised throw.
My mother smelled blood in the water and responded perfectly to the perceived mistake. Three shuriken were avoided with nary a thought, and two strides brought her bearing down on me just as my feet touched the earth. My smile distorted enough for me to launch the senbon under my tongue right before her fist made contact. Victory is pain or however the saying goes.
"What did you do wrong there?" I wish Akiime would let me get the dirt out of my mouth before grilling me. Those blows hurt more than you'd think. She was more skinny than lean, but chakra was the great equalizer for delivering pain.
"I waited too long to use the senbon. You committed after I threw the shuriken, but I didn't commit until you were right on top of me." I wasn't confident in my accuracy or power with using senbon yet. Hin had only just introduced the technique and it still felt awkward to use. I couldn't recall seeing someone else use them that way. It was why it was such a devastating tool. Few people were ready for a shift in the fight like that. Even less could deal with it. Or at least that's the thought for whenever I get good enough.
It's hard to flow different spheres of fighting together. Ninjutsu, genjutsu, taijutsu, and bukijutsu are very different arts from one another. Anyone who made it to genin that wasn't a waste of air could switch from one to another to create an advantage. Good shinobi could do the switch fast enough to chain them together consistently. Only the most elite could change it from a switch into a seamless flow. Bleeding one skill into one another until it became a singular dance of death.
Akiime flopped down next to me in defiance of how elegantly she had fought. It riled me up even more to see how well exertion fit her. My mother isn't a gorgeous woman, closer to the girl next door than prom queen. But moments like this make her shine. A mane of dark hair once tightly bound spreads out around her. The strands that don't flow around her are held down by sweat, perfectly framing a stern face into something beautiful. Akiime looks like a warrior princess, and it makes me feel like nothing but a little girl playing games.
She takes her time responding to my answer. Cradling me with soft hands that defy the callouses they should carry. One runs through my mop of hair and the other traces over bruises they had just created. "You were wrong because you'd be dead. Killing just to be killed doesn't matter. Death is the only true defeat, life the only meaningful victory." She's quiet then. And the silence stretches comfortably on as I watch birds make slow circles above. I've always felt envious of them. Whether it be this life or the last. They seem to always make it back on course no matter how far away the wind blows them.
The moment is nice. The silence, her fingers in my hair, and her presence were more welcome than I'd expected. "I need you to live… All our family has done is die for Konoha." The words are quiet, even for my mother's soft voice. She seemed far away then as if she was speaking to someone else, "No matter what you must do. Promise me that you'll live." She didn't seem to notice my agreement. All the little droplets that landed on my face felt distant, like the woman who shed them.
I'm not going to say that our talk was life-changing or anything. But I felt I understood something about my mother that she'd kept hidden from me. Not much was different about the time before I went to the academy. But it was the most pleasant year we shared since I had woken up here.
Sometimes we would sit together after training. Letting the wind fill in for our words. It surprised me how much I enjoyed those moments together. I don't love her any more than I did before. But if I have to live in this situation, I'm glad it was someone like her. Things were going so well that I was in danger of getting bored. Or even worse, content.
Fortunately for me, life hadn't turned entirely joyful and carefree. I was having a hard time figuring out how to get stronger in the future. My mother refused even to try teaching me ninjutsu or genjutsu. Her chakra didn't work the same way mine did. To her teaching me how to use it would be like teaching chess with a monopoly board. Instead, she focused on building a solid base and letting my jonin sensei build me up from there. I'm not Naruto or an Uchiha. There isn't some hidden bullshit talent waiting to be released.
But that means I'll have to find something that puts me above the rank and file. S-rank nin are rare, no matter how many popped up towards the end. Lasting that long would be a struggle in itself. I don't have any plot armor keeping me afloat. There are thousands of shinobi in Konoha alone. Any of them could kill me. Most of them wouldn't break a sweat doing it. That's just the genin and chunin too! Jonin might not even notice the Rinko shaped fly they stepped on.
I've been working on a list of S-ranks that I could conceivably emulate. Konan and Orochimaru are out. I have no idea how they do half the shit they do and I don't care to find out. Fanfiction lied to me about how easy it would be to get into fuinjutsu. I brought up checking some out at the library once. Mom laughed so hard that I didn't have it in me to say I was serious, which knocked out Minato. Learning Sage mode is an option. I can't lie to myself and put it at the top of the list. I don't want to roll the dice on being summoned to animals that think human meat is the perfect midnight snack. That and inner peace and I don't mix well. Turning into a cute statue is the most likely outcome of gathering natural energy for me.
I was settled on Tsunade and the Third Hokage. Tsunade because of how easy chakra control comes to me. Chakra is like a second skin to me. It almost feels like it wants me to mold it. But it is such a stark contrast from my last that I can easily feel it inside of me. Tsunade is still just the backup option though. I could get close enough to super-strength on my own. Not to mention I'd need her help to create the Strength of a Hundred Seal. With it I can compete with the other S-ranks. Without I might not make it to the 4th shinobi war. Annoyingly enough, I think that Hiruzen would be the easiest one for me to emulate.
He had become one of the strongest shinobi in history by following my mother's outline to the T. Build an absurdly good base and expand from there. He had the basics down to a science and could use them like a scalpel or a hammer. Intelligence, talent, efficiency, and technique were taken to their extremes. It had made him one of the deadliest shinobi in history. Good on him for breaking the mold like that. The thing is, I don't have the second fucking Hokage here to teach me and mold me into the next God of Shinobi. Still, there wasn't anything there that I couldn't emulate one day. Just keep working my little tail until I could curb-stomp people.
Although there was always the option of pulling a more… proactive Kakashi. Uchiha aren't exactly rare at the moment. I'd have to learn medical ninjutsu to make it work, but I was a pharmacist and a biology major once upon a time. It'll have to give me some advantage over your normal wannabe med-nin. Something to keep in mind for the future. But I'd rather go after one of the other weirdo eyeballs. Like the iron dragon eye thingy? I think the clan might still be kicking in the Valley of Hell. I know at least two of them will survive even if I'm too late to the party. It might be something worth looking at later.
Looking too far ahead wouldn't help me now. Today was the day I was officially going to be an academy student. To my surprise, Akiime had slowed down on the training rather than pushing it to the limit before I started going to school. We didn't completely stop working. We just dedicated more time to rest and theoretical lessons rather than practical ones. We even started going out into the village. Like for fun and stuff! I fulfilled a childhood dream and got to try dango for the first time last week. Please don't make my mistake and follow your dreams kids. Dango is nothing but a nasty old dessert. There are a few poisons that I'd rather eat than try it again.
The best part of going out again was getting to see more of the village. Konoha is massive in a way that the anime could never do justice. I'd guess there are close to 200,000 people living in it, maybe more if you count the tiny settlements surrounding it. Not massive for a city in my old world. But much larger than I'd expect for a "hidden" village.
The gossip was nice and juicy too. Some people thought the war was about to end. Others believed Kiri would join in and drag things out. I even heard that Kakashi had graduated at five years old. If only I'd been born a few months earlier! I might have gotten to take a look at canon and test myself on it. It was disappointing because I wasn't sure about the timeline or where things were at this point. I had a general idea of the events leading up to the start of Naruto. But specifics about this time period were few and far between. Worse was the chance that this world was different from the one I remembered or that I'd somehow caused changes already.
I had a list of things I wanted to do. Keeping things precisely the way I remembered wasn't for the best. But I had to get stronger, and I needed more information before I could start making waves.
I stopped pacing with a sigh. I'd been making groves walking back and forth in my room all morning. I was nervous about my first day at the academy. When I get nervous I start thinking. When I start thinking I start pacing. I didn't know what to expect and it bothered me. It felt like the five years I've been here had been building toward this moment. I knew it would be fine no matter what happened today. If it turned out I was weak or just not ready, my mother would always be home ready to help me reach the next level.
Looking in the mirror didn't help any. I saw a little girl dressed like she was pretending to be a ninja. I was taller than you would expect and maybe a bit more muscular. The eternal baby face that seemed content to stay until puberty stopped any chance of intimidation. I didn't see much else worth remembering. My hair was the prettiest thing about me, pitch black and wavy. It had finally grown long enough for me to do something with it. Not that I actually worked with it. I liked to keep it down at home and tuck it into a tight bun while out and about. My eyes were the only indication that I wasn't an inferior clone of my mother. They were that pretty almond shape I could never get my old ones to look like. The color was a pretty enough lightish brown. It reminded me of Haku funnily enough.
I liked the clothes at least. My wardrobe consisted of outfits that looked like Hinata's in the last movie. Just darker colors and with poofy sleeves that could hide senbon holsters. The fashion here was as eclectic as it seemed in the show. The streets were filled with a mishmash of colors and styles. With a bend towards practicality and greens. It wasn't entirely off the rails. But on a busy day you would see plenty of modern art exhibits. Apparently, designers grow to be as unhinged as their customer base.
The light streaming through the window told me I had stalled long enough. It was time to pay the piper.
The house was dark aside from the soft candlelight that lit my way. We kept the house dark as a leftover from Mother's edgy phase. She had taken residence at the dining room table, restless as I was this morning. She was tapping her fingers on the table in a show of nervousness I'd never seen from the woman. Thanks for the encouragement mother. I'm definitely feeling confident enough for this not to bother me.
Her eyes signaled me to sit down, so sit I did. The shadows from the candlelight slowly danced around her face. I wanted to give her a 10/10 for how ominous she was making my first day seem. I was nervous yeah, but I was a little girl going to school for the first time. She was a grown woman acting like it was my funeral. It wasn't like I was leaving home to go off and die.
Once I sat still, mother stopped tapping away and said, "You have a gift that needs to be nurtured. Teaching you is easy. I've never had to worry about you not picking something up. What matters most though, is you don't rely on instinct in a fight. You can think, plan, and act on it." She moved to my side as she spoke, "I can't help you grow into what you can be. Ninjutsu, genjutsu, or anything else you must learn from someone else. All my talents are worthless for what you'll become my flower." She was holding me now as she spoke, pressing kisses into my hair between words, "Promise me you'll do whatever it takes my love. To grow strong and to survive." I nodded once, and she said no more.
"Carry me," I asked for the first time in this life. She lifted me without effort and away towards the academy we went.
The academy was crowded. It was the most amount of people in one place that I had seen in Konoha. My mother marched through them without a word. I only caught a glance at the mishmash outside. A couple of Uchiha and Hyuga on opposite ends, many different ages, hair and clothes swirling about in a hundred different ways. Most kids were by their parents, though some played together or alone. I didn't get the chance to see anyone I'd recognize from the anime before we ducked inside the door.
The academy was bigger than I expected. Five or so stories tall, it stretched longer than any school I had been to. It wasn't exactly a maze, but I doubt I would find my way back out easily if I didn't pay attention. Akiime confidently walked around hallways and passages that seemed to circle in and around one another. We stopped in front of a classroom door on the fourth floor that looked like any other. Mother told me to sit there and wait while she was gone.
Not two minutes had passed before the door opened, revealing my mother and an older man. He was stocky and on the shorter side, barely reaching over my mother. Grizzled was the first word that came to mind, ugly the second. Life had done him few favors before the scarring took whatever good looks he might've had. His expression was like cracked granite, a permanent scowl that fit him far better than the unassuming outfit he wore.
His voice didn't suit the man, rich and warm like a hot mug in winter, "So this is the Rinko-chan I hear so much about. Tall enough I suppose." I kept from frowning at the way he spit out my name. Mother wasn't phased so neither was I. He just watched me for a moment, looking up and down, chewing on something the whole time. I didn't know what he was looking for, but he seemed to find it before long. He began speaking like he was reading from a textbook, "New students are assigned teachers randomly, and each group stays together until graduation. Special cases happen where students get shuffled around if they're talented." His eyes glance towards my mother. "Or enough strings get pulled."
They stared at each other for a moment until the older man looked back at me with a tsk. "Shigaki Raro, call me sensei or Shigaki-sensei. Keep up with the class or get knocked back down. Now get in and wait on the rest." Mother's nod was the only prompting I needed to go along with it.
Looking around the classroom was a big mistake. All it did was make me even more jittery. It was a large room divided into two sections. A small classroom with enough seats for 30 students at most. The rest was dominated by what could only be a sparing ring. It looked well used. I could spot scorch marks and scratches on the wall from the other side of the room.
I'm so nervous to start. But it was the good kind of nerves. The kind that got your adrenaline pumping and ready to go. The butterflies in my stomach were rolling around. They wanted me to get out into that ring and punch somebody. It was all I could do to keep a smile from forming and my hands from shaking when he looked at me.
I hop over to a desk on the front row before I can slink towards the arena to figure out what techniques were used. Thankfully Akiime is out there distracting him. I wouldn't want someone to walk in on my evil grin. I couldn't handle explaining that at the moment. As it is, I've barely pulled myself together before Shigaki-sensei opens the door and my future classmates start streaming in behind him.
AN: I liked writing out a bigger chapter this time. Let me know if you guys prefer it or not.
This chapter bounces around a little out of order timewise. I couldn't get it to flow in the way that I wanted. I think it should be alright to figure out if you get confused, it just might take another reading or two. Sorry about that, I'll do my best to keep things more clear next time.
Speaking of unclear. The Naruto timeline is awful to work with. Anything you find inconsistent with canon was either done on purpose for my own sanity or a mistake I made trying to interpret it.
Let me know how you feel about the fight scene. When possible I'd like my fights to have some sort of tactics to them, even if some will be hit man harder =win. I found it was challenging to write and I expect they might be a weakness for me.
I don't think I want the academy arc to be too long, but I need to set up some characterization, some plot threads, and introduce a few more OCs.
The tone will get darker at points, but this isn't going to be an edgelord story. (hopefully)
As always, please leave a review for anything you liked or anything I could improve.