Disclaimer: I own nothing but the general plot and OCs

*apologies I don't know how or when I accidentally replaced this with chapter 17. Thank you for letting me know

I've not read this one all the way through from start to finish, and I know there a few reasonably drastic changes in the tone throughout. I don't know if I got the shift between them right, or if it's jerky and awkward. Sorry, if that's the case.

Next chap is probably Kakashis pov.

Zero editing done again, so beware.

English spoken words are underlined as always and Japanese spoken words are normal.

Thank you so much for your reviews, as well as favs and follows! Let me know what works for you, what doesn't work so well, and any prompts for scenes you wanna see going forward.

Chapter 16 - Did I Take More Than I Gave?

Innocuously enough, it was the toes that got me at first, and things just snowballed from there. It was polite to wear clean socks most of the time, so that when the non shinobi entered many of the buildings and took their shoes off, their feet weren't dirty and looking poorly cared for. As such, the only time the titchy feet weren't wearing socks was first thing in the morning, last thing at night and in the bath.

It was decidedly odd, considering I hadn't owned a single pair of socks suitable for every day shoes in my old world- they were all thick winter boot socks, or slipper socks. I also used to have a habit of taking my shoes off and padding around in slipper socks wherever I could even vaguely get away with it; school, college, home, on the bus, on the train, any time I got to sit down for more than five minutes in public.

And when I could get away with it even further, I would go about with bare feet. As a result, I spent a significantly larger portion of my time with my feet bare than with shoes on, and sometimes more than slipper socks. So one afternoon, shortly after DFB had taken me on a climb to have a picnic where there was a greater breeze, I spotted a hole in one of them, near the toe, and knew that they would go straight in the bin as soon as DFB saw.

Not wasting any time, I sat up from where I was lounging on the sofa next to DFB, and pulled them off. It was with shock that I realised this was the first time I had taken a good look at the toes of this body. They were undeniably cute- I thankfully did not have ugly feet- but goddam were they long. Seriously, I'd had long prehensile toes in my last life, but these were even longer.

Unable to stop staring at them, I gave the toes a good wiggle, and jolted when I saw them move in ways I didn't even know toes could. Was the big toe supposed to be able to flex and bend quite that much?

"Su-chan? What are doing?" Came DFB's bemused voice. I turned to see him peeking his eye just barely over the edge of his Icha Icha book.

"Have you seen these toes?" I demanded. He raised an eyebrow.

"Strangely enough yes, I have."

"Why didn't you tell me! I basically have four hands, these could have been so useful!"

"For what?" I cast my gaze out, lost for words for a moment that he could be so blind to the possibilities.

"Like scratching itches on my head, when my hands are full. Like picking things up from the floor when I've dropped them. Like surprise slapping people from the side when they're busy watching my actual hands!"

"I'm fairly certain you've never been in a situation that requires surprise slapping, Su-chan. Also, your feet are dirty."

"Don't push your weird dirty feet hang ups onto me, tou-san."

"They're not my weird dirty feet hang ups. Society says feet are dirty- everyone knows it."

"Well you and society have weird dirty feet hang ups then. Besides everyone doesn't know these feet, which I can assure you, are perfectly clean. Anyway, it doesn't even matter because I've already established that I don't have feet; I have four hands."

"Is that so," DFB hummed, turning back to his book. I let him, and went back to staring at the feet, wiggling and twisting the toes to see what kind of range I could get from them. I couldn't believe I had had these things for over 18 months and I'd never taken a good look at them. What else had I missed about this body because I wasn't paying any attention?

Taking more care than I ever done in this life, I held the hands up, and eyed them intently. They were dainty, sweet little things, with fairly long fingers and still a good bit of chub to them. The wrists were skinny, and the arms, whilst still chubby, held a surprising amount of muscle in them. Everything had a soft, roundness to it thanks to the baby fat, and the skin had barely a mar. There was a very light dusting of freckles on the shoulders, and the skin was the just a shade darker and pinker than DFBs.

I paused, and crafted a mental image in my mind of the body I wore. I swallowed at the realisation that the face was missing. I... didn't know what face everyone else saw with me in mind.

"Tou-san?" There was an unusual timidity in my tone that caught his attention.

"Aa? What is it?" I bit the inside of my lip uncertainly. There was a strong part of me that really didn't want to know. I was already struggling with the complete change in skin colour, and size. Could I handle an entirely alien face that I would have to claim as my own in front of every one else? I worried that when I saw the differences, I'd be able to feel the differences too, and I would forever walk around with a face that didn't fit.

"Can I... see myself in a mirror?" As soon as the words came out of my mouth I wanted to take them back. I really didn't feel ready for this. But then, on the other hand I didn't think I ever would. I might as well get this out of the way.

Besides, I needed to see what sort of face I was working with, so that I knew what sort of expressions I should pull in different circumstances.

DFB assessed me, mild confusion wrinkling his brow, before suspicion and realisation had him frowning disbelievingly at me.

"Su-chan, do you not know what you look like? Have you never looked at yourself in a mirror, or in a glass reflection?"

I shook my head, unwilling to explain that it was mostly intentional- I couldn't stand the thought of looking out of eyes I felt were my own, only to see a stranger staring back. It had taken me so many years to come to accept the flaws of my old face, and see the good parts, it had felt like a mental stretch for me to come to terms with the fact that although I didn't see it a lot of other people thought I was attractive. It had been a struggle to learn to like it, but I had won that struggle, and with some time and care I figured out how to take care of my skin and which expressions looked best when, and how to arrange my features with different products to make myself feminine, or androgynous, or masculine.

I had come to fully appreciate the extent that my face allowed to me to don different looks on different days to escape labels, and expectations. My face allowed me to become something of a chameleon, and I liked that a lot, but it had been a tough journey. Now I was stuck with something I had zero emotional attachment to, and I wasn't sure I wanted to have a solid image of it in my mind, rather than the nebulous blur I had now.

But like with most things, the moment I committed, I figured I might as well do it in a way that was the most healthy and least drama filled for me. If I was going to see this face, I was going to learn to wield it with just as much efficiency as my old one.

"Can you take me to the bathroom mirror, tou-san?" I asked. Without comment, DFB picked me up and carried me to the bathroom, where he turned me around so that I was sat on one of his arms (I was mildly impressed by the effortlessness with which he held me up on one horizontal forearm) and gave me a completely false but appreciated semblance of privacy, by sticking his nose back in his book.

I stared at the bottom of the mirror, took a deep breath to calm my pounding heart, and then looked up. I almost jumped at the alien face staring back at me. It was one thing to understand it in theory and another entirely to see a face I didn't recognise and know I was behind it. Perhaps this was what it was like for people after having a lot of plastic surgery, or seriously injuring their face.

I scrutinised the girl in the mirror and was mildly disturbed to see her scrutinise me in return. A part of me just wasn't registering that I was in that body, and behind those eyes. A part of me felt like that was someone else entirely, and I half expected her to move independently in the mirror like in a horror film.

I breathed in and out and then in again, before I forcefully divorced myself from my emotions in order to see things objectively. The eyes were the first thing I noticed - they were a dark colour that couldn't seem to settle on purple or red; closer to red nearer to the centre and fading into purple around the edge, but with mottled speckles of both all over.

They were weird, and if the pigmented mesh of stroma weren't so clear and detailed, I would think I was looking at a pair of contacts, or something computer generated. They probably weren't odd in this world, but I had never seen eyes that colour before, and for a long moment I couldn't look away. I wondered, idly, what colour they would go when the light hit them right, and imagined it would probably be either supernatural looking, or stunning.

They were set in a wide shape, with a slight downturn, and topped with a thick sweep of grey blonde lashes, which I knew could be killers with an application of mascara when I was older. The face shape, underneath the baby fat, was remarkably similar to DFBs, with a less pointy chin and softer, more feminine curve in the jaw line and cheek bones. I had DFB's lips, scaled down onto a smaller face, his thin eyebrows with just the slightest more arch to them. I had his nose, scaled down, and even something resembling his fluffy mess of hair. The colour was a very light blonde close to white, with silver hints, which I predicted would darken overtime, but was almost translucent for now. It wasn't quite as ridiculous in it's determination to win against gravity, and the ends succumbed to the laws of physics and curled back toward the face, with a few of the longer strands reaching the forehead.

Apart from the eyes, I looked remarkably similar to him, and understood that if he didn't go around covering 90% of his face all the time, my identity as his relative could never have been kept secret. As it was, DFBs eye and hair was pretty much all anyone got to see of him, and happened to be the two things which were the most different in this body.

All in all, the only word that could be used to describe this new face, was sweet. It was so fucking cute, with the wide doe eyes that screamed of innocence and vulnerability, and it was like everything on DFBs face had been taken and softened on mine. I watched the lips pucker up in an adorable scowl, and the little wrinkle of the nose look like a disgruntled kitten.

"No one is ever going to take me seriously," I deadpanned. DFB gave a soft snort behind his book and said nothing to refute it.

"You're supposed to reassure me that it's not as bad as it seems, and people will respect me regardless, seeing me for the intelligent cunning female I am, rather than the surface cuteness of my looks."

"Maa maa, I try not to make a habit of lying to you, Su-chan," came DFBs nonchalant reply, which I knew hid his amusement.

"Just last week you said there was chocolate goodness waiting for me for pudding, and then ate it all before dinner, pretending it was still there in the hopes I'd fall asleep before you were found out," I accused.

"Aa, and you looked like you couldn't decide between trying to stab me with your chopsticks, or bursting into tears. I can still hear the murder in your voice when you talk about it. I thought I'd stick to the truth after that."

I grunted at him, not willing to admit that I was petty enough to still be bitter over that evening of missed chocolate. But I really was. It would probably niggle at me for the next month. To distract myself, I went back to analysing the features I had been landed with.

At least DFBs nose on my face leant it an edge of elegance, alongside the cheekbones, rather than just straight up cuteness. It wasn't really noticeable yet, and probably wouldn't be until all the baby fat was gone, but with touch of shading using make up here and there, and an application of mascara, I could probably do sweet, innocent but sensual. With my well practiced, polite version of 'fuck off' that I had perfected in my last life for in public, I could be eye catching and I would soften people, but be largely unapproachable for anything physically or emotionally intimate.

This face also went perfectly with the polite, quiet and demure persona I already had, which would probably have people guessing my age from anywhere between thirteen and twenty as an adult, depending on how the body physically matured with time.

If I wanted to be taken seriously, though, I'd have to think of something else. This face was one to coo at, not listen to. It did explain why women in the street did so, though, considering the culture of Konoha was generally inclined toward non involvement with other people's kids.

It was a shock to go from my old home, which was all about the right thing being the adoration and cherishing of innocent children, protecting them, and sheltering them- to the hands off attitude here. It was shameful back home if a small child was caught wandering alone in public and no one stopped to help. It was the norm here. I wasn't sure if I agreed with it, but I also understood that Konoha was a shinobi village that encouraged independence and a lack of reliance on others in their children from a young age, which shifted into the collective group holding greater importance once they got a career and became 'real people'.

Additionally, with the exception of pieces of shit like Danzo, Konoha was quite safe for children below a certain age. Yes, they were generally ignored by people other than family, but they also weren't hassled, and if someone tried there was usually a shinobi nearby to step in.

It did explain to me, the question that I had always wondered, about why Kakashi had not taken in Naruto once he was old enough, or even another of his parents' friends. It probably simply didn't really occur to them on any serious level. It wasn't a part of this culture to look out for someone else's children, unless you were related or being paid. Family stuck with family, and unless someone's parents specifically asked you to go out of your way, and you agreed- as in the case of godparents- it wasn't really done.

Orphans went to the orphanage most of the time, and found parenting figures in mentors, or Jonin-sensei, or any other adult who took them under their wing in order to train them for something they showed dedication or talent in.

This all reinforced the intrinsic mentality which most citizens of Konoha had; that your job was your identity. People who didn't work, didn't deserve to eat. And so everyone worked. With the propaganda spoon fed to the citizens from birth, that becoming a shinobi was a mysterious but epic job filled with quests and glamour and adventure, becoming a shinobi became not a dream job for most children- but a dream identity.

It also gave an explanation as to how the heck work hours were sorted for such an unstructured job. I had wondered why more shinobi didn't take big chunks of time off, since the higher ranking missions were so well paying- and there were bounties on top of that. Once a shinobi had reached chūnin, beyond being chosen personally for missions by the hokage, the Jōnin commander, and a small other selection, missions were not mandatory. Work was not technically mandatory. Now if that was me, I'd be all for keeping my skills sharp with training and going bum fuck no where, as long as I had the cash for it.

But if your work was your identity, and had been since childhood... well that suddenly became a whole different ballgame- facing internal pressure, family pressure and societal pressure. It was smart, and unquestioned, and conditioned into everyone. Except me. I had already been conditioned to the culture of my old home, and I wondered how my ingrained individualism was going to face up against Konoha's collectivism ideals.

Regardless, my personas were going to need to be on point to provide me with everything I needed from them.

I finally looked away from the mirror, and tilted my head in DFBs direction. Shit, no wonder his dad killed himself. Everything that he had related to as his identity was slated as a failure by everyone, spat on and stripped from him. It wasn't just about blame, negativity, a botched mission, or a clash of shinobi ideals. He had his very sense of self taken, and was told he didn't deserve to have it, with no indication of ever getting it back. Poor fucker. Both of them.

I looked at DFB, and my heart hurt for him. The back of my eyes stung, as I thought of how shitty it was that DFB had been so emotionally wounded by the structure and values of this society, in the way he had, and he probably didn't even see it like I did, because this was all he knew.

"I want a bath." My voice wobbled slightly, I tilted my head down to hide my expression. I had been feeling a bit more emotional in the last week or two, and I knew that if I wasn't careful, I would be set off. Being more in touch with my emotions again after so long, meant that I was unaccustomed to them, and they affected me strongly.

I peered through my lashes, and saw DFB peer at me with soft concern. I gave a small smile to reassure him, and he responded with a single nod. I was quiet and lost in my thoughts as DFB ran a bath. I wanted to be held by him, and hear his heart beat, and imagine that when I rested against his skin my need for him to be okay, happy and loved would sink into him, as I was reassured by him in turn.

He showered, and washed me, and then stepped into the hot tub-bath, sliding us down into the water which was the perfect temperature for me. He didn't ask any questions, sensing my need to think, but held me and gently poured water into my hair.

To the calm rhythm of DFBs heartbeat, I thought on my appearance and considered all of the pros and cons of it that came to me. I accepted it's massive usefulness as a tool of manipulation, to make people underestimate my intelligence, and capability of ruthlessness. People were more likely to say things to me or around me that they wouldn't otherwise, if they didn't consider me a physical or mental threat. I didn't want to be treated like an idiot though, so book smarts would be once again useful to me. Book smarts was something the teacher patted me on the head for and few others held as any value in the real world in my in old life, and I imagined it was even more so the case here, where school education stopped at twelve or thirteen, and battle prowess was the desired trait. It was something that could explain away a lot of knowledge I might accidentally let slip. A cute and innocent face should do the rest.

As for cons; as I had stated to DFB, people were unlikely to take me seriously when I wanted them to. I didn't have a stern face that intimidated others into listening to me, and so I was going to have to figure out a way to be respected for more than just looks, otherwise I faced the risk of being mentally pigeon holed by everyone around me. Women and girls especially were likely to judge me and react based upon just my face and clothes. I was not putting up with other females treating me like the way I looked or acted had anything to do with them.

Most importantly... well I had to be straight with myself, that if I had a small stature alongside vulnerable doe eyed looks, surrounded by men and women who's moral compass was likely shot to hell from being forced to dehumanise other people in order to not go insane on the job, there was a chance I could be a target for rape. I saw the way women were treated here, and although the kunoichi had it far better than the civilians, men and women were not equal. Particularly in relation to family vs career priorities, and the way women's sex lives were regarded.

Rape was a weapon of war. I knew that. This was a world that was basically run off of conflict. The original Naruto story never made a mention of this that I could remember, but there was no way I was going to believe a manga/anime over what common sense told me. This world wasn't exactly zen sexual enlightenment central, and I could almost guarantee that if discrimination toward female shinobi existed, as well as rape victims, then these women were not going to be given the help, support, acceptance and empowerment that they needed after such an experience.

That wasn't even approaching the men who went through the same, as I knew occurred during war in my old world. If with all the advancements in society there, where women could admit to getting raped and not always have to feel ashamed of it, but men worldwide still felt they had to pretend it had never happened to them, I dreaded to think of the attitudes here.

I carefully inhaled slowly, buried my face against DFB, and exhaled. There was a good chance, whether I was a civilian or shinobi, that at some point I would be sexually assaulted and/or raped. There was also a good chance I would not be supported mentally by Konoha afterward. I was prone to depression and anxiety and that was probably never going to change. If something like that happened to me, it could destroy me mentally, and lead to another suicide attempt.

My reason for living, beyond myself, was almost entirely my relationship with DFB. I didn't want to hurt him with my suicide. It would definitely hurt him to know that sexual assault happened to me, but at least good times would come around again together. He had shown such staunch loyalty to me before we even got to know each other properly, and he had had no surety of my improvement. I had to have faith that he would show that same support if I was raped or assaulted.

I wanted to be there for him too, if he ever had to experience that. For him to know this was a conversation I was more than willing to have with him if he was assaulted, and asked for the same from him in return, I'd need to approach the topic far beforehand, to let the idea sink in properly, and normalise it somewhat. I was going to choose to trust him in this. But first, I wanted to leave the entire idea alone for a little bit to register fully with me.

God this was so fucked up. I grimaced to myself, and thought about how messed up it was that at the physical age of just over nineteen months, I was being forced to contemplate and put plans in place for my future possible rape. Despite my real age, I still felt far too young to be in this situation. Most days before I had died, I still didn't consider myself an adult. I wasn't a child...but sometimes it felt like I was. It was crazy to consider that my dad had been a year away from holding my eldest sister in his arms at my current age. I couldn't believe he'd chosen to step up unthinkingly, to take responsibility, after he got my mother pregnant.

He had been so young, and was so immature, but had already done so much. I couldn't imagine being in that position at my age. A parent almost at the age I was now, when in my old life, right up to the last year, I still expected to be told to go sit down with some juice and watch Disney by other adults around me. I shook my head in wonder, and looked up into DFBs face.

He tilted his head down at me and smiled a slanted smile. It was only then, having catalogued all the similarities between our faces not long ago, that I realised how young he looked, too.

With a tight feeling in my chest, I asked, "tou-san, how old are you?"

He eye smiled, and his lip quirked, "I'm twenty three years old."

My brain froze for a second, and as this computed, I swallowed heavily, "When was your birthday?"

DFB laughed, with a sheepish tone creeping in, "a few weeks ago."

I didn't make any mention of the fact that he hadn't told me. I was too stuck on the fact that DFB was less than two years older than me mentally. He was younger than my middle sister. DFB was young enough to be my brother. I'd... never thought of it like that.

He'd always been this adult figure in my mind, who had experienced so much more than I had, and was just so much more grown up than I was. In my head he was someone steadfast and reliable and a lot older than me. He was someone I could lean on, who could take the weight of my suffering.

God, he was so young. He'd been, what, twenty one when I was reborn here? The same age as my dad with my eldest sister, younger even. And he had taken me on alone, with no real support. He had made the choice to be a single parent at twenty one.

I was mind blown. My entire perspective on our relationship was shifting, as I automatically tried to compare him to either of my elder siblings, and saw that he wasn't like either of them enough for it to fit. Out of the three of us, the person he was most like was me. He was so fucking young, and if he'd been part of my original world he might have been amongst my group of friends. He was like me. I was like a civilian, female version of him in so many ways- even more so with his influence on my behaviour.

It hit me all over again, just how much he'd done for me. He was a twenty one year old single parent, and he had done so well. I knew single parenthood was fucking difficult, no matter how well behaved your kid was, and I- I hadn't been well behaved. I'd been depressed and suicidal, and I didn't understand how he'd done so well in the face of that.

Guilt and regret rapidly began to build in my stomach, as I realised how much responsibility I had put on his shoulders without ever considering that I was just as capable of sharing that responsibility. I had spent so much energy and attention trying to escape from my physical reliance, that the emotional aspect all fell to him. I had told myself over and over again that I wasn't really a baby, I was still fully grown in my mind, and yet I handed over all emotional responsibility to DFB without considering that I could help.

I had always waited for him to reach out to me, to tell me what to do, to prompt my next stage of recovery, to be the one when I was in day care to make that first connection. To prove he cared if I lived or died. It hadn't even occurred to me to do the same.

I had immediately cast him as the older one native to this world, who had a duty to be in charge. I called him tou-san, but I had never thought of him as my father. I was too old, and he was too young. He was more like a Dad/Friend/Brother. In the same way Gai was like an Uncle/Friend/Brother. There was no reason why I couldn't be their equal. And as their equal, it wasn't fair of me to make them shoulder the burden of looking after me, without giving the same back.

I hadn't been looking after them. Not really. I'd been being a child, protected from the rest of the world through their efforts as they acted like shields for me, the same as parents did for their children. If I really wanted to be there for DFB, I was going to have to show him that I was an adult capable of supporting him. I knew I couldn't continue the thin ruse of childhood anymore, without being inundated with guilt.

I had to tell him the truth. Even if it alienated him completely, I had to give my ridiculous truth. He deserved my honesty after everything he had done. And so I waited for him to take me from the bath and drain the water, with a sinking dread in the pit of my stomach.

I was so scared of his reaction, of losing him, of him hating me. I felt like I was going to throw up, and burst into tears. My breath shortened, and my heart rate picked up.

I was well on my way to a panic attack, and trying to hide it, before I managed to take some deep breaths to lower my heart rate. I had to accept that he might despise me for the lies, and everything I had knowingly put him through. Things could work out fine, but they could also end with him handing me over to go to Yamanaka, or Danzo. If I allowed my fear to overtake me, I would never tell him, let alone convince him if he didn't believe me straight away.

I loved him too much to continue lying to him, or hiding. I clung to that thought. I clung to that feeling. I hardened myself to the worst case scenario that I could think of.

When DFB had finished dressing, and had me back in clothes, I turned to him, without making eye contact. I was shaking very lightly, and trying to hide it.

"Tou-san? Can I talk to you? In the living room."

DFB scanned me, picking up on all of the clues my body gave away despite my efforts to hide them. I knew he had guessed what I wanted to talk to him about, as he quietly replied to me, comfort radiating from him while carrying me.

"Of course, Su-chan...You know, no matter what you say to me, I'll... still love you."

Emotion welled in my throat and I almost burst into tears. I buried my head in his chest, and nodded my head.

"I believe you," I whispered to minimise the thickness of my voice, "I just don't think you'll like me very much after this."

He sat down on the sofa, and rubbed his hand up and down my back a few times, before allowing me to climb off, and sit next to him. I didn't want to restrict his movements if he suddenly felt inclined to stand up, pace, or leave.

I stared down at my lap for a long moment, realising I didn't know where to start. I opened my mouth a few times, suppressing the frightened tears that wanted to escape, before I shakily started, gaining strength as I spoke, and distancing myself from my emotions with my words.

"You know I have 'my words' which I just... know. I've always seemed to just know them. And you've probably noticed that I'm not-I'm not like other children."

"Yes," he responded with slow neutrality. I didn't know how to soften this, so I just ripped the plaster off.

"I'm not the same age in my head, as this body. I'm older. With memories of a life before I died."

There was a long pause, "I'm not sure I understand, Subaru. Could you say that in 'my words'.

My breath shook as I inhaled, but I didn't waver, "I died as an adult. And then I awoke as a child."

"Do you have any proof? Beyond 'your words'," DFB's voice was completely emotionless at this point, but I didn't dare turn to see what expression he wore.

"English. The language we spoke back in my old life, was called English. And it has a written form. I'm not intelligent enough to make up a written language on the spot, tou-san."

I peeked at DFB from the corner of my eye, but I could make out anything beyond his rigid posture, as he went to a drawer, pulled out some paper and a book, and handed them to me with a pencil, silently.

"Write."

I stared blankly at the paper, supported by the book, and couldn't think of a single word. I desperately cast my mind about to find something. Anything. Until suddenly, for some reason, the tenet I had been taught to follow as a child flashed through my head. I numbly wrote it down, and handed the paper to DFB. He took it and analysed it carefully.

"What does it mean?" He eventually asked, quietly.

"It was something my dad would say to my siblings and I as kids, whenever he dropped us off anywhere. He would say 'be good- and if you can't be good, don't get caught.'"

I saw something painful contort DFBs face during my explanation, and then it was expressionless once more.

"You had a dad?" He seemed to regret the words the moment the exited his mouth, but I still responded.

"Yes. I had a dad. I also had a mother, and two older sisters, and a stepmother, and three older stepbrothers, and a cat called Burdock, and a stepfather at one point too. But I died, then I woke up with nothing and no one. Except you."

DFB looked down at the floor, his fists clenched. I felt sorrow for the pain I was causing him well up, and tears sting my eyes again, but pushed them back. I didn't want to cry to evoke sympathy in DFB, this wasn't about my struggle.

"Do you believe me?" my voice was a timid wet sounding thing. DFB frowned, a stoic look that badly hid his emotional turmoil.

"I shouldn't, based on nothing more than foreign spoken words, and a single written sentence. I'm not under genjutsu, and nor are you. You are the Subaru I know, and you show no signs of lying. I find myself believing you."

I hadn't even noticed him checking for illusions. Although, I wouldn't know what to look for to spot that if I had known what he was doing.

Shock ran through me that it was that easy. I didn't know what I had expected, but I had thought it would be more difficult than that.

"Oh," I weakly stated, unsure what to say next. I wanted an indication of how DFB was going to act on this sensitive information, but he simply stood there, frowning at the floor. Minutes stretched onward agonisingly, and I sat frozen, tense, barely breathing.

"How long have you known?" I flinched in surprise at the break in the previously thick silence.

"Huh?"

"How long after you opened your eyes as a baby did you remember your last life? That you had died and been... reborn."

My heart pinched, but I didn't pause, "the moment I woke up in the hospital bed in Konoha. The first day we met."

DFB's face tightened with something I couldn't decipher, and he managed to still even further.

"I see," he sounded robotic, "If you'll excuse me. I need... I need to leave."

Without looking at me, DFB pulled his mask up, turned on his heel, and I helplessly watched him swiftly escape through the balcony, grief trapping any words I might have said in my throat.

I stared after him dry eyed, feeling cold, unable to move or think. I didn't know how long it was after he left, that I noticed; for the first time since that time, DFB had left a gap open in the balcony doors.

For some reason that hurt ripped through me so much worse than anything else.

So a fair bit happened in this chap. It's a bit longer than I intended but both myself and Subaru are inclined toward in depth thinking about situations in order to emotionally prepare ourselves for all sorts of possibilities and constant risk management for ourselves.

What did you think about Subaru's observations about Konoha? What about her appearance? How did you find her epiphany surrounding Kakashi's age and her relationship with him (That was one of the most difficult bits to translate from my head onto page accurately.)? How did you find the emotions in the reveal of her secret (another difficult bit to write. I wanted it to feel like a tense scene that feels far longer than it is, but the words just wouldn't behave.)?

What do you think they'll both do next?