As a certain cliché says: death is a part of life; and no matter how well-worn it is, that does not make it any less true. You never know how it feels, or what happens or where you go after you die. Most of the time you are too busy to think about it. The rest - you are either too scared to think or you believe that you still have a lot of time to think about that. The majority of the elder people goes to some kind of worship place and prays in hopes of good afterlife, but they also do not want to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet, death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it even if they tried – she knew, because she also died and failed in this regard (unfortunately quite literally).
Death came to her like a shot from behind. One moment she was writing her reports for CERN and IAEA, drinking her fifth coffee that day and listening to the new Tony Bennett album, the next she was gone. The stroke gave her perhaps a half second of confusion and then it was "lights out". Given that we all have to die somehow; it was a surprisingly polite end for a rather impolite woman.
To tell the truth, all this time she had not known whether she died or was still lying in coma in some pitiful, grayish hospital room, while her brain once again proved that it was far from normal.
She had never before thought much about death because she was a rather ambitious however lazy overachiever, when suddenly she just stopped to be; only to open her eyes to overwhelming light and enormous hands gripping her poor bum. She would say this to whoever wanted to listen: thank goodness that people don't remember their birth and early childhood, it would scar them for life. There are some offenses that are unpardonable. Can you have any idea what it was like? Confined in a non-cooperating body, treated like a mindless puppy? Right now, her memories were a selective thing but then time wasn't moving any faster than normally. It was worse; in that hell it crawled at a snail pace. She got more bitter and angry with every passing day, to the one when her supposedly new, six-year-old sister had a splendid idea and took her for a walk. Just imagine the level of crushing her idiocy when the older girl started to walk up on the wall with the woman's new toddler form in her arms. Naturally she started to shriek like a skinned baboon. Her wannabe sister tried to calm down the infant, bribing her with sweets and explaining the mechanism of chakra – she had a faint grasp of the new language but hearing the magic word, she began to scream like a whole herd.
So here she was in the world of some stupid manga she read one night when she was looking after her nephew and had nothing else to do. The little monster was sucked to her like a leech and fell asleep when within the woman's easy reach was only a collection of "Naruto" volumes. But back to the topic… she made a plan, a really good one. She was going to become a seal-master, abandon Uzu and the Land of Fire, then offer her services for the Hidden Cloud. From what she remembered it was one of the most powerful Hidden Villages, with no records of any invasions or other disasters. It would be a good, luxury and boring life, away from the main plot and its tragedies.
And then was the day when fate, gods or her brain (however she was no longer inclined to the last option, because her mind had never before showed masochistic tendencies; sociopathic – yes, even very often, but never masochistic) told her to officially screw up – the day of the attack.
The woman in a baby body didn't let herself to care about her new family or anyone else for the matter. Truth be told the only Uzumaki she was able to remotely tolerate was her cranky grandmother, but caring for someone? It was ridiculous. There was simply no point in it. For her it would be like caring about chickens bred for slaughter. She knew it sounded terrible, but it was true and denying it would be pure hypocrisy. People died all the time, in this world and all the others. In Africa thousands of kids were recruited to terrorist armies and no one waiting for a green light on way to work, eating French fries in a McDonalds or doing shopping tried to prevent it, so why should she do it here? Dying people weren't the issue. The only problem for her was the timing. It was way too soon! She wasn't able to run away before shinobi hit the Village. There was no house they wouldn't enter, no shop or alley. She stood there as the life was choked out of almost every man, woman and child, but she felt no sadness or emotion of any kind; there were no rushed heartbeats or tears to dwell in her resigned apathetic eyes. There was only the girl she refused to call sister.
The reborn woman was still breathing only thanks to Suzu's one tracked mind and its inability to admit a failure. Her… their grandmother left Shiori in her older sister's care as her main responsibility. You can believe it or not but honor, duty and all the rest of this shit were taken here very seriously. Uzumaki Suzu was a loud and irritating person, but one of the best the reborn woman had ever met, counting both worlds.
Unfortunately, the lone memento that was left after the older Uzumaki sister was a smell of burned flesh none of them would be able to forget to the end of their lives.
The funeral pyre wasn't big. Minato wrapped the corpse in his spare shirt and put it on the wood gathered by team seven. Kushina set the pyre on fire and then they all watched the deep flames of the enraged element through blurry eyes. The blurriness wasn't caused by sadness or any other emotion. It was because of the stench.
Some people thought that the smell of burning human flesh resembles the one of a burning sausage or other meat, unfortunately they couldn't be further from truth. It's an awful, acrid odor; nauseating and sweet, putrid and heavy, something like leather being tanned over a flame. The smell was so thick and rich that Shiori could almost taste it. She didn't know what it was about the smell of the smoke, but it filled every little thing, like it was terrified to be blown away in the wind. Every hair, every cotton fiber, even their skin, carried its stench long after the flames were extinguished. Why couldn't it smell like a steak? Especially medium, or even rare; with a barbecue sauce and coleslaw?
The little redhead really shouldn't think about food right then, because her stomach felt like the bag in a set of bag-pipes that was vigorously squeezed. With a heaving lurch of her guts another small mouthful of bile jumped into her mouth and hairs tickling her nose weren't helping.
"Are we there yet?" She mumbled trying to stop the rising wave of vomit. No matter what world she was in, motion sickness was the bane of her existence.
Minato turned his head putting even more of his sunny locks in his passenger face but it wasn't his voice that answered her. The tone of the response carried in itself the distinct impression of a reinforced concrete rod lodged in its owner's ass.
"We are not. Just like three and five minutes ago." It was enough to say that Kakashi was not very impressed with her and her constant whining.
"You don't need to be rude" her muttering and sense of smell was drowned out by Minato's jonin vest. The blond-haired man was sweating like an Eskimo in the desert. He needed a bath even more than she did!
With a next rather jerky jump her stomach started lurching so much she felt bruised inside.
"Mini-nii, you better put me down, now!"
There was no need to repeat it when the stomach-acid stench of vomit filled jonin's nostrils. Minato barely had time to remove the girl from his back and put her as far away as the length of his arm allowed. Shiori was held like some radioactive material but while the congealed contents of her stomach emerged into sunlight she just couldn't care less.
After a little fusing over her by everyone expect of the Hatake boy and hours of hellish tree bouncing they arrived to Kakogawa village, one of the main producers of flour in the region. To the locals charging, the village mill broke down and to produce a regular amount of flour they needed extra hands to work. Kakogawa's elder looked at the kids doubtfully, but hearing two jonins assurance, against his better judgment he left them alone.
Blue eyes sparkled seeing team seven eager to work, no matter how different their reasons were, Namikaze was proud of them (even if Kakashi just wanted to run from other teenagers and their stupidity, Obito waited for a right moment to bit Kakashi into a pulp, and Rin just needed to get back to Konoha and check upon strawberries growing in her garden).
"Ok, now…" it was not given for Minato to split their tasks, because something began to pull at his pants, demanding his undivided attention. "Yes?"
"I need new shoes" claimed the little Uzumaki squeezing his leg like a vise.
"New shoes?" In the first moment the man thought it was some sort of shinobi code but the child tugged once more and showed him her bare left foot.
"I lost my sandal when Uzu was under attack."
"Your shoes aren't our priority, the mission is." Kakashi really wanted to be as far away from this lack of professionalism as possible. Shinobi missions weren't a place for little children, especially the spoiled, whining ones.
"I would like to see you going around without a shoe" bullying him was one thing, but Obito couldn't allow the bastard to mistreat children, even the odd ones.
"If I had your attention span, I would long ago have lost not only boots but also my feet."
"Aha, so you would be worse me than I am!"
Kushina barely stopped a snort, hearing Uchiha's comeback while Minato openly face-palmed. The only person not giving into the boy's drama was a five-year old with her own problems.
"Over the last few years, I was exposed to drafts between my toes. I can catch a cold, let alone have corns. I already have one blain, see?" Minato indeed saw. "Without new shoes I'll be standing on one foot. I'm warning you, Mini-nii, Kushina-san, you're looking at future, very desperate flamingo."
If cuteness was a weapon Shiori would be its champion. No one could resist her big eyes of molten gold, quivering lip and reddened cheeks.
"Sensei, looking for her new shoes is a waste of time." Nevertheless, Kakashi's jackass-ness was a rather efficient counter weapon which, however, often brought with itself certain consequences in person of angry Uchiha.
"Shut up, bastard, no one asked you!"
And so in the atmosphere of quarrels, rolling eyes and growing headaches was decided that Kushina would go with her small ward for shopping, her fiancé would take care of collecting crops, while the rest of team seven would handle minor tasks.
After supplying in new sandals, the older Uzumaki left the child under care of teenagers, harnessing Shiori to help them. For some odd reasons Kushina wholeheartedly opposed the presence of the girl close to the harvest.
Highly unsatisfied with the turn of events, the tiny redhead was faced against few horrendous tasks like cutting small pieces of wood (the ax was taken from her after forty seconds when she toppled backward due to its weight), carrying firewood (splinter in a finger and a cascade of tears after a minute), carrying buckets of water (wet clothes, hers and Kakashi's, after whole six minutes). At the end, the young Uzumaki, officially called now walking disaster, was left with Obito in the broken water mill.
"These are quern-stones, Shiori-chan. You are spinning this lever and its grinding cereals into flour."
The brunet demonstrated earning a flattened look.
"This stones are big, Obi-nii. They're bigger than me. How can I move them?"
"Come on, Shiori-chan, you're smart, tiny kunoichi. Just a little chakra in your hands and you'll be as strong as your nii-chan." Obito proudly puffed out his chest and adjusted goggles.
"Maybe I'm brainy but in no way I'm brawny. Besides I don't want to be a ninja. It's far too exhausting and I can easily get dirty. Nevertheless, even if I wanted, don't forget I'm five. Could you mold chakra when you were my age?"
Obito's chest deflated. At her age he still was stuttering, not talking about chakra manipulation, nevertheless he couldn't admit to it, not looking pathetic.
"Could you try, for me?"
"Nope," the girl was unrelenting in her indolence.
"But why?"
"Because I'm lazy." Unfortunately, Shiori was also a woman, and no representative of the fair sex could resist puppy eyes performed by Uchiha male specimen. "Ugh… you are pure evil you know that?"
Evil or not, the reborn female spent the next ten minutes puffing and wheezing, trying to grind cereals. She was a stubborn creature, but she wasn't suicidal even for two black, breathtaking diamonds.
"Enough or I'll die." the child whined and slumped on her ass with a loud plop.
Obito stopped rotating his stones and looked at their piles of flour. Shiori's was nonexistent. He could tell she wasn't trying too much but her constant complaining also wasn't very helpful. It would be easier if she was occupied with something else.
"Ok, you can stop and do whatever but be careful. Kushina will kill me if you get hurt."
"Come on, Kushina-san isn't so scary."
"Yeah, right." Obito trembled remembering several times when he had the opportunity to watch the wrath of Red Hot-Blooded Habanero. "Just wait, then you'll see."
Shiori sighed, further debating with the young Uchiha made no sense. While he saw Kushina as a one-woman army with a pintsize temper, for her she was only an imbecilic troublemaker with severe case of ADHD. Well, thinking about it, now she was an imbecilic troublemaker with severe case of ADHD and furry, over four hundred feet tall monster, spitting atomic bombs. Ok, maybe she was scary, contrary to the Uchiha in front of her.
She truly couldn't understand how this pathetic boy became the Darth Vader of Naruto universe. Obito was like her neighbor's dog. Not only was the mutt stupid and hellishly friendly - from joy always pissing on visitors' shoes - but what was the worst it was impossible to dislike him.
When she first saw team seven leaning over her, resembling some damn gorgons, something like fucktarded cocksuckers could slip from her mouth. Of course, she just had to bite her teeth into the ass of plot and now mentioned plot was plotting against her! Obito was a sweetheart, Kakashi - a bastard, Rin was dull and Minato, well… she could do extramarital calisthenics with him anytime. Ok, she had to stop this train of thoughts. She was five here so no funny business, especially with future the father of the chosen one.
Shiori was in need of something to busy her brain and the only thing in the mill was a broken machinery.
"It's stupid to do it by hand, anyhow," she mumbled and with reluctance looked at the seditious device. "If something's broken they should fix it. It can't be that complicated. Ok, that thing delivers the force and this goes there…"
Ω
Obito wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, proudly looking at the created flour. The work was incredibly boring, especially after more than an hour of constant spinning, but imagining that instead of cereals he milled whole flocks of small Kakashis was a great help. Only three more sacks and…
Something dropped, jerked and crashed as if the roof was going to collapse on his head. Chunin looked in panic for the owner of eyes of molten gold, who was currently trying to clumsily clamber out from under the big gear wheel that was slowly but surely spinning.
"See, all done. No need to sweat anymore" the girl smiled and tried to brush dirt and flour from her hair and clothes.
"You fixed it." Unbelieving Obito poked the falling piston.
"I'm five, how could I fix it? You did it." She smiled with feigned innocence.
The Uchiha blinked, he saw that wicked grin before on Kushina. It didn't bode well for anybody.
"You don't want me to tell you did it? Why?"
"If they know I repaired it, they'll make me do something else. Why would I want to do more work?" she deadpanned. "Chill out, Obi-nii. Now, we can relax. Besides, Kakashi-san will be really pissed that you fixed it."
Slowly, the corners of his mouth rose up, giving birth to a beaming smile going straight to the girl's heart and wrenching it.
Ω
She was pissed. No one asked too much about the fixed mill. Kushina drilled her with a suspicious glare, then just shrugged, called her creepy and choked her in a bone-crushed hug; but violation of her personal space was not the cause of her tantrum.
First one was the freaking tub. It was a big, old barrel with cold water. There was no plumbing in this shithole! In Uzu she was mentally ready for the lack of internet and very limited electricity but at least they had a functioning water system. Here she was freezing her butt off, trying to scrub off layers of dirt with an old rag and a grey soap bar when once she indulged herself in sandalwood, cinnamon, musk, Arabian fragrances, pastel and lavish at the same time.
Nevertheless, it wasn't the worst thing.
The cherry on the cake of her frustration was Nohara Rin. The girl helping her bath hadn't done a thing and that was the problem. She was an indulgent, affectionate, semi intelligent person that wasn't at all special. Yet, her kindness was the source of future tragedies.
"You have beautiful hair, Shiori-chan. Its hue is a bit warmer than Kushina-san's, like rose petals. You should grow them."
All day of smiling and Shiori wanted to kill something cute.
"Could you shut up at least for a moment?"
The silence that fell was overwhelming.
"Excuse me?" Rin stammered nearly choking up - contrary to torrents of words flying out from Shiori's mouth.
"I don't know if you're so cruel or simply stupid. You're openly ogling Kakashi at the same time leading Obito by the nose. He has a crush on you and you don't even deign to think about his feelings. You'll destroy him, hell, you'll destroy both of them."
The crimson haired child nearly tore off skin from her arm brushing them during her tirade. She stopped only when the banging of closing doors rang through the room. The girl slid down into the water, letting it block out the sounds around her. The sensation of the water calmed her; it took her mind off things. All the things she didn't care about. The life she left behind. All the faceless people in Uzu that died and were forgotten. Plot that couldn't be built out of jokes because it needed tragedies, broken souls that could rise again, hero that save all; and of course a villain. Every good story needed a villain, thus it thoroughly fucked life of some poor wretch, breaking him so he could go bad and fuck even more lives! But she didn't care, she didn't care at all!
The air plunge into her lungs when a pair of arms pulled her from under the water.
"What you said to Rin-chan?" Kushina's angry gaze sliced her, demanding answers. She wanted them? Good, she would get them.
That was the breaking point of Shiori's patience. At that moment, she was blinded by a serving of rage that tasted bitter, yet surprisingly satisfying.
"The truth. That trying to protect Obito, she is hurting him and I don't know like you, but I don't think that fucking with feelings of Uchiha is the best idea. All this horseshit about love transforming into hate and red eyes of doom and mass destruction is slightly disturbing."
The unexpected hug was a simple enough gesture - affection, little love, perhaps the fragile beginnings of healing a chronic trauma. The arms that held Shiori were soft, yet strong. The feel of the other so close to her soothed the reborn woman more than she had expected. Pure. Unselfish. Undemanding. Free. She felt her body press in, soft and warm.
"You were always messed up." Kushina mumbled, stroking her wet, red hair. "Even in Uzu on a daily basis you were gloomy. When you were really miserable you exploded with anger. It's ok to be sad. You can cry. You know that, right?"
Shiori nodded, burying her head into the neck veiled by enflamed hair but she didn't cry. She couldn't because she didn't care. Maybe it was nothing more than a childish lie, but she had to believe that lie repeated often enough became the truth. She didn't care. Otherwise she would crumble.
As always thanks to everyone, especially my beta - mrsmiawallace88, you are the best.