Thank you guys, for the overwhelming response to my prologue! It got me all fired up and here I am, presenting you the first chapter. Enjoy the read and tell me what you think. I love to hear from you!

Chapter 1: A Kick in the Ass Sure Gets you Moving

I have always been proud to be able to say that I'm pretty quick on the uptake. And by no means do I intend to sound pretentious with that. It's just that I realized early on that it doesn't take much explaining for me to grasp the essentials of most things.

I did well in academics, had a really good record in both high school and university, was a trained classical violinist and a passionate hobby singer, wrote little stories in my off time and was generally interested in a broad range of topics.

I am by no means a genius, mind you. Most of it was thanks to my awesome mom who taught me that no matter how sharp the mind, nobody amounts to anything without hard work. Which in reverse meant that I was encouraged to make use of every bit of my time, resulting in my many fields of interest.

But unfortunately, this time I think that my ability to grasp things quite quickly was what ultimately broke me. Because I understood the implications of my predicament far too well.

For six months, I'm hardly any more sentient than a zombie.

Everything comes to a standstill.

I don't make any sounds. I stare off into the distance. I don't react to whatever giantess and giant say or do to me.

I don't sleep although I'm not exactly conscious either, drifting in a haze that blurs everything together, down to the most basic of thoughts. Hunger, thirst, the passing of time – everything is inconsequential.

I don't remember much of this time and thinking back, giantess and giant – I know, they're my parents here, but I can't seem to bring myself to think of them as such because I have awesome parents back in my world – must have been worried sick.

I guess naming me joyous child might have been a bit premature on their part. Just saying.

)()()(

At some point, from within the midst of the fog my mind is clouded over with, divine intervention finally manages to steer me to some course of action.

And when I say 'divine intervention' I mean that quite literally.

I'm in my crib, busy being my catatonic self when a horrible screeching sound goes off and my vision turns white.

The whiteness is so bright, it stings my eyes terribly and my tear ducts immediately start working. I clamp my lids shut with a miserable whimper. It doesn't help. At all.

The whiteness creeps through my eyelids and intensifies until I feel physically bleached out from the inside.

In addition to that, my bones are rattling and every cell in my squishy baby body is vibrating with the loud screeching that sears into my ears like the heated blade of a knife. Even with my chubby fists shoved into my ears there's no alleviating the pain.

That's it. I died a pitiful death, lived a pitiful second life and died again. Lovely.

I get the feeling that somebody is trying to prove a point. Or pulling a really tasteless prank. Whatever it is, I'm distinctly not amused.

Suddenly, the earsplitting noise stops.

I lay still for a few heartbeats – scratch it, for a hell of a lot heartbeats actually. But the screeching doesn't come back so I remove my hands from my ears.

The white has stopped trying to burn my eyeballs out as well. The intensity is manageable now and I decide to cautiously open my eyes.

Only, it doesn't make any difference.

Everything is white. There're no walls, no banners, no cribs. No above or below, no left or right, either. I could be blind for all I know.

I'm starting to panic.

It's more action than my body has seen for a long time as I work my breathing up to a harsh hyperventilating pace, my heart racing and sweat moistening my skin.

I haven't seen anything of this world, yet. I know I haven't really been trying, but I'm not ready to give it up anyway. I don't want to go blind.

"Ah, I finally found you" a light voice says.

I whip my head around, in a frantic search for the source of it. Anything to give me orientation in this situation is fine and I don't care that I have never heard this voice before. Nor that I can't make out if it belongs to a male or a female.

"I'm right in front of you."

I blink when I finally spot the owner of the voice. I swear, whoever that is wasn't here just half a second before.

The person has long, straight black hair and wears a simple yukata in a slightly iridescent purple. The face is androgynous and I still can't tell the gender. (It's quite attractive, though.)

He/she – they! – quirk a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"Finally found your bearings, I see. We can begin then."

"Who are you?" I blurt out before they can say anything else. With a start I realize that my voice sounds … normal. Not like a baby but like a grown person. Like Elizabeth Wang.

I let out a bewildered gasp and cover my mouth with my hands – only to realize that they're normal, too. I look down at the rest of my body.

A huge wave of relief floods through me.

This whole Uchiha baby business has been nothing but a nightmare. I'm back to normal again. My body, though short still fully grown, with my hands and my arms and legs. "I'm back" I whsper.

"I'm afraid not. This is only the manifestation your soul chose to confront me with in this plane. As soon as I let you go you'll revert back to your newborn body."

I manage a strangled groan at this piece of information. Of course, that would be too easy. We couldn't have that, could we?

"As to your question. I'm an official in the Bureau for soul transfer affairs and am very sorry to tell you that your predicament is due to an unexpected error on our side. We apologize deeply for that but wish you all the best with your new life all the same. If you have any questions please ask them now for this is your only chance. There won't be any further possibilities to talk to me or anyone else from the bureau after this."

I snort. Duh, which error is not unexpected?

Wait, what.

…

Bureau for soul transfer affairs? What the hell is that supposed to be? And why does that person sound like one of those voices that direct you to mailboxes?

"What … what does all this mean?" I croak out weakly.

"Please specify your question." They say really politely.

I stare dumbly while I try to sort out the mess in my mind and fish for the best question. In the end I come up with an eloquent "Bureau?"

Somehow, I don't feel that quick on the uptake anymore.

"Yes, the bureau for soul transfer affairs. Our field of responsibility is the safe guidance of souls to their destined destination across the wide range of dimensions, from creation to the stage that you call Nirvana in your world if I remember right."

I gulp audibly. If I understood this right … "That means … that means you're from heaven?!"

They smile pleasantly. "I guess you could say so."

"Then why am I here? I mean, this is the Narutoverse! It's not even supposed to be real!"

Uh oh. I can feel myself working up into a frenzy again. Deep breaths. Let that official or whatever explain.

"As I said before, this is due to a simple but unfortunate error on our side. You, Miss Wang, died in a car accident on Earth, following which your soul should have gone to Nirvana. However, a swap of your case files must have occurred somewhere along our inner workings which led to you being reborn into the world you currently find yourself in. As to the question if this world is real: it is. Otherwise your soul wouldn't have been able to get here."

Hearing my death spelt out so clearly – and in such a polite manner – feels like a blow into the stomach. If there's been any doubt about my former life and any possibility that I was still alive there and only in some kind of coma or whatever, well, there isn't anymore.

And if that wasn't enough there's still the point that my existence here is nothing but a mistake.

I wrap my arms around my torso because suddenly, I'm cold.

"Can't I go back?" I ask with a very small voice.

"I'm afraid not. You truly died there which is final."

There's a short pause in which I try to get myself together. Questions. I have to ask questions because this is my only chance to get them answered.

"Can I leave this world then? I mean, I'm nothing more than a mistake anyway, so …"

"I'm afraid not."

Haven't I heard that before.

Their face takes on an apologetic expression. "Your soul is bound to your body so you cannot freely leave. However, it's entirely your choice if you want to cease the existence of your body. If that is done, your soul will go into Nirvana just like any other soul."

"Cease the existence of my body?" I frown. "You mean, if I kill myself?"

The answer is ever so pleasant. "Or get yourself killed, yes."

Oh, this is just great. Look, I have a choice: Suicide or victim of an accident? Or even murder? The possibilities are eeeeendlesssssssss!

"However, if I may express a personal opinion: I wouldn't advise you to do that. In the whole of my existence, which is to say from the beginnings of mankind, there have only been a handful of humans who have been granted the chance for a second life. It's a gift usually only given under exceptional circumstances."

(There goes my theory for reincarnation as a regular thing.)

I am silent as I mull over the information.

So my existence here is a mistake in the first place. But, as my business professor in university used to say, no situation, no problem, no matter how bad, ever only has the risks and bad things. More often, new opportunities would arise with every challenge, new chances to grow and learn and to make things better.

The question is: do I want to take this chance, no matter how it was given to me? The chance to grow, learn and make things better in the Narutoverse?

…

Why the hell not?

…

Determination surges through me and I look up into the face of the person who can give me the answers to all my questions and see them waiting patiently. Huh, got a saint here.

"Okay. What are the rules?"

)()()(

As it happens, the rules are rather simple.

1. Do with your life what you want.

2. Nothing.

There. That's it.

It's a whole new life, they reassure me, just like the one I lived before. My choices are my own, as well as the consequences and everything in between.

"Even if I mess up the whole time line?" I ask.

"Your choices are your own" they repeat.

Hell, yeah.

For the first time in forever – and I can actually hear the princess of Arendelle singing this line – I feel excitement and the knowledge that I can do something flowing through my veins. I'm so hyped by the time my conversational partner talks again that I almost miss him.

"However, there is one thing that you should know about."

I go still with that announcement. The air has become thick all of a sudden and I wonder if they can sense this, too. Scratch that, they might actually be responsible for that, seeing that they are definitely more in control of things than I am.

"As your soul is not a fresh one, you do not start with the life force you would usually have, had you been born into this world in the first place. 22 years of your life have already passed in your time on Earth. These will be missing now."

I blink.

I don't think I understood that.

They seem to catch on to my bewilderment.

"Every soul has an individual amount of life force at the beginning. When the soul is bound and born into a world, it is usually assumed that under undisturbed circumstances the respective person lives as long as the life force holds out. When there is a disturbance, though, that means something that cuts the life short before the life force runs out, the soul goes to Nirvana with the remaining life force untouched and is dissolved regularly."

"Which means that it's basically wasted then." I mumble, dumbfounded.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"So, I was one of those whose life was cut short before my life force ran out?"

"Yes."

"And no two souls have the same amount of life force?"

"Yes."

Oh. Well. Good thing my folks on Earth don't know about this concept. Imagine the hysteria.

All men are created equal.

Not so much, apparently. But it's just one more thing to add to the list of what's not equal between humans, I reckon.

An idea pops into my head and festers before I can throw it out of the metaphorical window again. I turn it over and over until I decide that I want to ask.

I make many decisions today.

"Can you tell me how much of my life force is left?"

My counterpart is surprised.

"You want to know?" they ask with eyebrows almost disappearing into their hairline.

I draw a deep breath. "If it's possible, yes please."

They look hard at me for a while. I get the feeling that they're searching for something in my face and apparently they find it because they answer.

"You have 32 years left."

Well … that's not too bad, I guess. Considering that shinobi tend to die early anyway I can probably achieve quite a bit before I have to go. Provided I manage to stay alive until then.

I nod sagely to myself until another realization hits me.

I have never been supposed to live beyond 54 years of age.

Bummer.

That sucks. Majorly.

Arrrgh, is my soul that much of a weakling?!

"If you don't have any more questions, I will take my leave now. I wish you all the best for your new life. From now om, there won't be any interference from our side any more. Live how you think is best. We will probably see each other again when you're ready to depart for Nirvana."

Wait! I still have so many questions left!

I open my mouth and want to prevent them from leaving but it's already too late.

The screeching noise appears again, along with the stabbing intensity of the bright whiteness and I have to shut my eyes and stuff my ears until it's over. It's faster than the first time.

When I open my eyes, I'm back again.

Laying in the crib as a baby and staring at the banner on the wall across from me.

But this time, I don't fall back into that near coma. This time I've got a purpose. And my first step towards it is to make sure that everybody knows that I'm here. That I exist.

As I inhale deeply to let out the loudest scream ever I think to myself:

I'm gonna be the best goddamn baby this village has ever seen.

Review?