Yes, initially, I was not happy at finding myself reborn. There was the whole realization that I had lost my previous life, the disbelief at what had happened, and the anger with how it had happened all clinging to me. Fortunately, as a newborn, no one questioned any crying and fussing so I was free to express my bitter disappointment loudly and as often as needed for my mental health. Even so, I really missed being able to complain using words. The other baby I was sharing space with wasn't exactly someone I could talk to about my problems since we both weren't actually capable of speech.
Still, I acclimated and eventually began to come to terms with things. I was generally a positive person, so I tried to look at the good things about my new situation. I had a second chance at life here. I had wished a few time in my last life for the ability to go back and change various decisions while knowing what I knew as an adult. Well, this wasn't quite what I had in mind, but I concluded that this was almost like having that wish granted. I didn't get to go back in time, but I did get to try again with all my adult knowledge. It was a weird but not unwelcome opportunity. The one gray cloud in my positive spin was that I had a strong feeling that 'bad things' were coming to this world, but I was a bit confused on the details. It had been years since I'd watched that anime, but I did recall lots of fighting and various characters dying. Just considering it was not a comfortable thought.
The other infant I was sharing space with was a slightly cranky, little brown haired cutie named Kiba. His mother Tsume was the wild looking woman who had scooped me out of the woods that night. I was a little confused on the details as to how I ended up in her care, but, on some level, it simply didn't matter.
Tsume was out of the house a lot. At a year old, I still wasn't entirely clear on the reasons why though I guessed it was likely due to her work as a ninja. It wasn't much of a problem though because there was also an older sister named Hana who watched over us. She couldn't have been more than six or seven, but I approved of her babysitting skills. When Hana was away at school, someone else in the clan would take care of us, or we'd be left with canine babysitters. It sometimes amused me to think that I was being raised by a pack of wild dogs.
As far as I could tell, there was no father around the house, and I was too young to ask why. There was one man who seemed like maybe he was supposed to be Dad, but he was more than a little scared of Tsume. I honestly couldn't blame him.
As a matter of course, Kiba and I spent a lot of our time together. Neither of us had quite figured out the talking thing yet. We both understood a lot of simple words now, but using our baby mouths to make the right sounds was horribly difficult. I might have learned a bit faster if I was just relearning English, but this was definitely Japanese.
The two of us had developed our own language of a sort. It was a combination of pointing, nodding, baby gurgling, laughter, and arm waving that helped us play well together. We were both attempting to walk these days, but Kiba was better at that than me. Partially because he was a couple months older than me and partially because the kid really wanted to walk everywhere. He would find his footing and zoom off a few feet before falling backward or forward. If he fell very hard the eruption of tears and shrieks was ear shattering. I, on the other hand, was content to hold onto a hand or a ledge or any other surface, take a few steps, and call it quits. Crawling was still more efficient and less likely to cause pain.
After one of his falls, Kiba would calm if I gave him a hug or sat with him for a little while. It was the same old trick I had used when I had worked with young kids while teaching in my last life. As long as they felt safe, noticed, and cared for, even the wildest ones would grow calmer and gentler. Besides, this kind of premeditated intervention kept me from getting bored playing with baby toys. It gave me purpose and a goal. Some days, when all I could think about were the negatives of this second chance, a purpose kept me from losing my mind.
Another year passed, and we were both walking and talking. I could ask questions of those around me, get dressed mostly on my own, and even run and play. I was a little clumsy at the running and playing, so sometimes I had a hard time keeping pace with Kiba. I'd also made a point of trying to get myself potty trained as soon as possible. Maybe I wasn't as coordinated or as fast as Kiba, but I was on the cusp of being able to go without diapers. I was looking forward to this milestone. The one kink was waking up to use the bathroom at night. I guessed my tiny body just wasn't sending the wake-up signal to my brain quite yet.
Kiba was a good older brother. I'd always wanted an older brother in my last life, and though he was only a couple months older than me he took the job very seriously. Tsume helped with this. Whenever she would leave the house for one of her extended missions for the village, she would charge Kiba with looking out for me, and he would seriously swear the toddler equivalent of a blood oath in reply.
As for the language, well, I was catching on perhaps a little faster than was normal for my age, but it was nothing unusual. Sure, my thought processes were more adult, but there were real physical limitations. For example, I knew in theory how to use chopsticks, but that didn't mean I could actually pull off the physical motion again without practicing. When it came to language, I was certainly capable of more complex thoughts, but I didn't have the vocabulary to express these thoughts yet. Maybe that would have been different if I was born into an English speaking second life, but it was what it was.
The one real gift the rebirth gave me was the advantage of greatly advanced abilities in logic and thought. When the adults were talking around us, I not only understood, but I could often piece together the bits of things that were left unsaid. If you've ever been around kids, you'll have heard parents do that thing where they don't finish a sentence but just give the other adults a look and a cryptic few words. Of course, all the adults know what it means, but the kids are usually blissfully ignorant. In my case, I almost always understood.
As a result, I knew that there was something weird about my origins, the exact details of which were still obscured from me. Of course, I wasn't supposed to know or understand this. I certainly wasn't supposed to be capable of remembering being dumped in the woods as an infant either. I still didn't know why Orochimaru of all people had left me there before running, and I wasn't really fully aware of how I ended up staying with Tsume after she found me. Even so, I was grateful that I hadn't been left helpless and alone as an infant or dumped at the village orphanage. The Inuzuka's were my family - even if it wasn't by blood. After all, they had named me and were raising me. I might not be one of them, but, at this point, that was just a technicality.
Besides, I wasn't going to cross Tsume. Once, when we were at the park, I overheard another mother mention something to Tsume about how I really wasn't her child. For a few moments, I honestly thought she was going to beat the offending woman right into the ground. Like one of the many Inuzuka dog's, she bared her teeth, snarled a line about how I was part of her pack, and pretty much dared the woman to fight her if she disagreed. Nope, I wasn't going to even suggest to Tsume any negative feelings or misgivings I had about being one of the family. Clearly, she had decided I was. It was good enough for her, and if it was good enough for her it had better damn well be good enough for everyone else. So, yes, I guess I was an abandoned child with a sketchy past, but I didn't feel that way because I was loved and accepted by this strange family.
The Inuzuka's had named me Nora. I eventually figured out that it basically meant 'stray' - as in a stray dog. Considering more than one family member had loosely dog-themed names, I thought it was strangely fitting, and I rather liked it. I mean, honestly, it could be way worse. They could have named me paw or snout.
"Nora, Nora! Nora play now!" Kiba tugged on Hana's pant leg. I was up on Hana's lap as she braided my wispy baby hair back to keep it out of my face. It was a lighter color than the dark brown common in the clan, but it was darkening as I grew older. Tsume had begun to remark recently to Hana about how I was starting to look like an Inuzuka. My eyes had always been a dark brown, and with my hair following suit I might one day fit in almost seamlessly. I doubted I would ever be quite as rough and tumble as my adoptive family.
"Just a moment, Kiba-tan," Hana replied with a hint of laughter in her voice as she tied off my braid and gave it a final light tug. "There. Now you two can go play." She sat me down on my feet next to Kiba, just as the front door careened open on its hinges and hit the opposite wall. Kiba and I both jumped.
"Yo, brats, I'm home!" Tsume grinned widely as she announced her arrival like she was some kind of rock star. Behind me, I could hear Hana laughing sardonically, as our wild mother shrugged off her flak jacket.
"Mommy!" Kiba yelled, and, grabbing my hand in his, we exchanged grins between the two of us before charging around the couch to hug Tsume around the knees.
"Whoah. Attack of the minis. You two chibis miss me?" Tsume squatted as we released our grip on her lower half, patting our heads as she flashed a wide grin.
I nodded my head up and down rapidly as I replied, "Yes! And Kuromaru, too!"
"Ack!" Hana suddenly exclaimed as she hopped over the couch and grabbed her bag, "I forgot the time. I'm going to be late for the academy. Mom, can you…"
"Yeah. Go ahead. I'll get the pups where they need to be before I drag my tired arse up to the Hokage tower." Tsume groaned and rolled her eyes while tilting her chin towards the door to encourage Hana off to school. "We'll talk about the idiot when I get back."
'The idiot' was family slang for Hana and Kiba's distinctly absent father. I'd met the man a couple times now, but he always left in a hurry while doing the human equivalent of tucking his tail between his legs. His visits were becoming fewer and further between these days. I figured eventually he would stop showing up altogether.
With a nod, Hana was out the door at a jog, and Tsume was scooping the two of us up. Kiba ended up on her shoulders while I was settled into the crook of her arm, snuggled against Tsume's side. These were our usual spots. Kiba liked the high vantage point, and I liked to cuddle. Our personalities really weren't anything alike.
"Park, mommy, go park!" Kiba exclaimed, holding his hands up with his fingers spread and a huge grin on his face.
"Ahh, I see. You two were going to go play today. Was Hana going to send one of the Haimaru's with you?"
"Yup yup." I chimed in even while Kiba utterly ignored his mother's question.
The woman smirked down at me and sighed, "Well, at least you listen, Nora- chan. Guess I'll get you pups to one of the brothers then." Striding out into the bright daylight she added, "Kiba, you take good care of your little sister today. Promise."
"Promise!" Kiba cried out as he wiggled atop Tsume's shoulders.
