Moon Born #1

Rebirth is strange, or so Sakura finds out upon her deathbed.

Snatched out of Death's grasp by a figure so similar to Ootsutsuki Kaguya, she finds herself reborn in a world of immortal mages and gods – some of whom bear alarming resemblance to those of her last life. Still, not everything is as peaceful as it seems.

There's a plot in the works, and this time it's no Moon Eye Plan. Chosen by the last god she would have ever wanted, named her champion, Sakura fights – because destruction is coming to that world, and she'll be damned if she dies again.

This story is a slow build and slow burn, as well as having an age gap between the main pairing intended. This is planed to be a somewhat epic story, leading from Sakura in childhood to when she's an adult (meaning the romance will not be touched upon for a long while yet. If you're not OK with reading a work like this, I suggest you remove yourself from the metaphorical premises.

Good day, and happy reading,

thatdamnuchiha

There were five of them there in that place.

Four against one, and the four were losing. It was a slow, but sure sight, and Death could tell that much. There had once been six of them, but that sixth had long since been turned to dust and ash where he had stood. Death had claimed that very soul by themself. Now they were down to four, and no matter how hard they all tried, they could not scratch the immovable force they were up against – Ootsutsuki Kaguya.

The black-haired male had been the first to fall prey to the so-called goddess, and soon it became apparent who would be the next to go.

Green eyes widened, short pink hair fluttering in front of her face as her fist slammed into empty air. Death could see the comprehension which flashed across her face as she realised exactly what her failed attack meant for her. Her heartbeat thudded in Death's ears – a prelude to its final fate – the hairs across her body pricking as she found herself the sole focus of that pearly-eyed gaze. It promised nothing but death, and it was that which one Haruno Sakura greeted as a pale white hand speared through her chest.

Screams met her ears and she stared blankly on, oblivious to the cries of her teammates as the seal on her forehead finally gave way. Blood gushed from her chest at an alarming speed even as she fell back towards the ground, body pirouetting through the air like a ghastly dance. One which only had a single ending. Death surged forwards, intent on claiming the soul – of sending it onto the Pure World just as they had done with one Uchiha Obito. Just as they reached the cooling body though, something unexpected happened.

They saw her first, a phantasmal copy of Kaguya lingering in the corner of their gaze, and they heard the words next, "Not this one."

Death tilted their head, staring at the one stark difference between the spectre and the living goddess intent on giving him more souls to send on their way.

Rabbit ears, white and long, extended up and out of the spirit's hair in place of horns, and those pale pink lips moved again. "She is mine."

Death looked at the sleeping soul of one Haruno Sakura, blinking placidly as they acknowledged the claim. For there was something of that rabbit goddess buried inside the soul before them. There was a claim, and so they abided by the rules set before them.

Smiling, the rabbit goddess moved forwards, gathering her claimed soul into her arms. She vanished just as quickly as she had appeared, leaving Death behind to claim the three souls which would never be able to follow one Haruno Sakura's.

In another world, far, far away from the place destroyed by Ootsutsuki Kaguya, in a small town on the Westernmost Coast, a baby's wails pierced the cold night air. The house the sounds came from was a small one, and yet it radiated such warmth even on a winter's eve. Inside the main bedroom of that home, a man rejoiced as he became a father, and a woman cried in exhausted happiness as she became a mother.

The babe, a small pink-haired thing with jade green eyes, peered around the room, crying loudly as they did.

"A baby girl," Haruno Kizashi breathed, cradling his new-born daughter, blissfully oblivious to the spectral form of the rabbit goddess hovering in the corner. "She has your eyes…"

Haruno Mebuki propped herself up on her elbows. "Let… Let me see her," she panted, collapsing back against the sheets moments later, bringing her arms up to cradle her daughter as Kizashi placed her down atop her chest. "She's beautiful," she whispered, even amidst the loud wails. "Though she certainly has your lungs… shh, my dear… you're home now…" She ran a finger against the ruddy cheek, smiling as her husband laughed heartily.

"I can't deny that," Kizashi said with a smile. "So, what will we call her? Kagami? After your grandmother?"

Mebuki shook her head. "I don't think this one is a Kagami," she said, grinning as the cries died away, and those big green eyes locked on her matching ones with a gleam Mebuki couldn't quite place as she spoke. "Sakura," she decided. "Her name will be Sakura."

Kizashi lifted his daughter up, cradling her to his chest even as the midwife helped clean his wife up. "Welcome to the family, Haruno Sakura," he whispered, blissfully ignorant of his daughter's true nature…

Of that which she would grow up to be.

But even if neither of her parents were aware – there was one who understood her origins and that which she would become in good time. The rabbit goddess smiled in the dimness of the shadows, milky white hair shifting in the ethereal breeze as she moved ever closer to the joyful father. Kaguya's smile only grew, ignoring the way the child's bright green eyes widened at the sight of her standing there. For the young could sometimes see that which the old could not. She reached out, finger brushing her cheek in a mirror of the motherly affection Mebuki had displayed only moments before, smiling even as the girl's face wrinkled and her cries reached fever pitch. She had been through an ordeal, Kaguya knew, but there was worse in store for her yet.

Sighing quietly, Kaguya stepped backwards, closing her eyes as those familiar black tendrils wove their way over her skin like cracks, pulling her spirit back toward where it was meant to be. Where it was forced to be.

"Do not let me down, my champion."