Top of the Tree

IV

There was a knock on the door—not that people knocking on our house's door was unusual, if anything it was more usual than not. No, the only thing that stood out to me, that caught my attention, was the chakra behind said door—there were three sources, and all of them were hefty but jaded—experienced.

People started paying attention to me, especially the ninja. Several months went by and I tried to be inconspicuous as possible with everything I did, but the pebble was thrown into the pond, leaving the ripples to bite me in the ass. It was a mistake on my part to not have considered the people's reaction to my actions initially; it was a mistake on my part to believe that no one would think too hard of a one year old. A mistake.

Being that I'd never been the sharpest crayon in the box might add in to the entire situation. I'd always been quite average in just about everything, so being in the situation I was in—'ya know, the whole "a woman's mind stuck in a baby's body" deal—did give me the little extra something that could make me shine a little brighter instead of blending into the background. But since my intelligence is so very ordinary, I tended to let my emotions do a little bit of controlling. Thus I talked without thinking, and I acted without reason, hence the unfortunate position I was currently in.

Should've thought it all out better. Should've been more discrete and less impulsive—reckless.

Stupid. Imbecile. Fool. Idiot.

Not to mention my patience was laughable; if in a year in this world already had me spilling secrets, I didn't want to know what almost two decades would do—maybe I'd tell the world of where I truly come from, and that worried me to the point in which I would lie awake in bed with the thoughts of people trying to burn me on the stake like the witch trials in Salem.

But the whole concept of being reborn is scary—especially when I had my past memories to muddle up my reasoning. It didn't matter if I'd been reincarnated for a year, or if I'd have many years to get used to the idea, it'll always be in the back of my mind, it will always be something that I find simply bizarre—for crying out loud, I had to go through puberty again! God only knows that the first time was hard enough. So I think my slip up was justifiable—but it didn't erase me from everyone else's radar.

They knocked on the door on a pretty normal day.

It was the first time I realized people had noticed me, and that I was no longer a mere baby.

It was early spring, mid-morning. Dad hadn't gone to work, having overslept for the first time in months, Mom had a night shift at the hospital the previous night so she was in the kitchen drinking coffee with my Dad and I surrounding her, and Hiro was at the academy. They knocked on the door of our house, and all movement stopped, as if time itself had stopped. Our breaths hitched—because the last time someone knocked on our door had been months before my little stunt. We just didn't know what to expect.

My parents shared glances, and finally my Dad decided to answer the door—Mom and I followed. I kept biting my bottom lip in order to find some kind of calmness.

The door revealed the faces of two men and a woman who looked the same age of my parents. They weren't really that old, probably in their late thirties or early forties. They had stern smacked across their faces almost as if the scowl was permanently imbedded onto their skin. Their hair still had color, but seemed dulled from time, and their skin was imprinted with wrinkles, making them look older than they really were. I suppose they'd been through a lot in their youth. Their clothes were perfectly clean, as was the rest of their look. Hair was in tip-top shape, not one strand going astray. They were impeccable.

They introduced themselves as Utatane Koharu, Mitokado Homura, and Shimura Danzo.

I knew who they were—I knew quite well. Granted, it had been the first time that I'd actually met them, and they did look a bit different from the characters from the manga (for one they were all so much younger and seemed less grouchy, and Danzo wasn't wrapped up from head to toe with bandages like a mummy), but I knew. And I also knew that they didn't simply show up on our doorstep to sip on tea, eat biscuits, and talk about the weather. I had a feeling that I would be pulled into the middle of the circle, and that shit would hit the fan.

And obviously with my luck, it would surely happen.

They sat down on the living room's couch, surrounding themselves with an air of aristocracy and superiority. I sat on my Dad's lap and my Mom remained in the kitchen next door just in case things didn't work out she'd be able to jump into the fray and save me (so to speak). There was a long pause of silence that would have made the fall of a needle to the ground sound as if it were an earthquake. I didn't know what to expect, but the tension in the air was obvious, as was the reason why the two advisers and the head of the underground branch, Root, were there: me.

Getting right to the point, Homura cleared his throat, "We want the child to begin training immediately".

From the corner of my eye I saw Koharu nod and heard Danzo grunt in agreement.

Immediately after the words left the foul man's mouth, my Dad was already saying no. He didn't hesitate, he didn't have to—he wasn't one to simply ship off his only daughter (who, may I remind you, was a year old) for training to fight in a war, and possibly die by the time she reached three. I wasn't concerned about that— I knew what kind of man my Dad was, and he wasn't heartless or desperate.

I was scared that being under these people's watchful gazes that I'd somehow slip up and act like the adult I'd grown to be, or that they'd treat me like just another disposable tool and place me on the front line where people could then resume to use me as a shield to protect themselves from flying knives.

"You turn up at my home to tell me that you want to take my daughter from me? You actually thought you'd accomplish something by coming here today?" Hiruzen's anger was simply radiating off of his skin. Had it been directed at me, I wouldn't have felt so safe in his arms.

"It's for the good of the village," said Danzo trying to reason with Hiruzen, except he didn't know that saying such would only anger him more.

"The good of the—how dare you even say that!" his face was red as I was sure was his vision, and I half expected him to start shooting jutsu at the man, "you think that putting a one-year-old on the frontline will be for the good of the village? We're not monsters!"

"No, we're shinobi, and that's close enough," argued Danzo, "We're in need of all the help we can get, even if it means sacrificing this child".

I was so terrified of dying.

The fear of my Dad giving in was so overwhelming to the point in which I burst into tears and started bawling. Mom came running into the room and snatched me from my Dad's hold, she later went on to scolding the three guests that they had no right to come walking into our house and laying claim on their baby girl as if she were a piece of raw meat. She kicked them out of the house maybe almost as forcefully as she had taken me from Dad's grip. She locked the door shut after muttering "good riddance".

But that was hardly the end of matters—A little bit of tears would hardly make them give up.

There was a prickling sensation at the nape of my neck.

Someone was watching me.

It happened a lot, the stalking, so to speak, in the last couple of months. Whenever I was alone in the garden, in my room, in the kitchen—anywhere—there was someone watching me. It's not that I could see them; they hid themselves skillfully amongst the shadows, no, it's that I could feel them there—looming over my little body as a lion would its prey.

I had a hunch as to why it happened, but that's all it was: a hunch.

I had managed to gain the attention, if not anger, three incredibly powerful and, might I add, strong people. I made it to their black list, and I wasn't even two yet. So they were watching me (not personally, they couldn't be bothered by that).

Because of the watching, I had to keep to myself at all times. I fell silent. I couldn't show off, as I loved to do, I had to act like the baby I looked like. My parents thought my behavior was odd, going so far as sitting me down to ask me what was bothering me, because, apparently, being my parents gave them some sort of freaky observation skills that someone non-related to me wouldn't normally have.

Paranoia became a constant in my life. I would continuously check over my shoulder to see if there was anyone there, because there always was someone there, but I couldn't see them, but they were there. I was scared of an enemy I couldn't see. And such mindset would embed itself into my very being, and become a part of me, just like any other limb. It would follow me to my grave.

Hiro remained oblivious through the entire ordeal.

I couldn't help but envy him. And maybe feel like punching him.

November came along, and I celebrated my second birthday with my immediate family and close friends. Shizune was there, and she could hardly talk, slurped on her food, and drooled liters, but from all of the other kids, she was definitely my favorite.

I had learned how to talk and walk; I was potty trained, and eating real food again. I'd begun to learn how to read, and I knew that as soon as I could do so, I would learn how to write. My babysitters were either chunin or fellow clan members (which surprisingly were many). Things were finally taking shape.

And then April came rolling in, and I noticed that Mom had put on some weight. One night during dinner, she kept shooting glanced at Dad who in turn nodded. Their faces became blank and I glanced at Hiro, wondering if he'd understood what was going on. He just shot me a confused look and returned his gaze towards our parents.

Dad cleared his throat regaining my attention, "Kozue, would you like to be a big sister?"

I stared at him blankly wondering where exactly this conversation was going.

"I guess?"

"And you, Hiro-kun, what do you think of having another little brother or sister?" asked Mom this time.

Hiro, being the seven year old he was had a more violent reaction, "What, you don't think Kozue-chan is good enough?"

What he said surprised me, because next thing I knew he was latched onto me tightly, and my jaw had dropped open. My parents seemed to have had the same reaction, seeing that their eyes were probably just as wide as my own.

He continued, "Kozue-chan is special, and I like Kozue-chan just the way Kozue-chan is. I won't let you replace Kozue-chan!"

I felt tears gather in the corners of my eyes.

"We're not going to replace anyone, sweetie," exclaimed Mom after recovering from the shock.

Dad started chuckling, "No, we're just going to add another one of you into the game". There was an unfamiliar calculating glint in his eyes.

I shivered.

The way Dad—no Hiruzen—put it was unsettling. The game? So life was but a game? Was that all we were, little pawns added into the board to aid the player? He was acting just like those three so called comrades of his. Or at least that's what it sounded like to me. Maybe he would crack under the pressure of those three assholes were putting onto him and turn me into some sort of baby soldier. I suddenly remembered that he wasn't just my father, he was the ruler of my village, and he could be just as manipulative and despicable as any other bad character. But I wasn't going to be used, or added, or be a part of the game at all, I decided. I was going to play my own game, and see how everyone would react.

Hiro seemed to accept the explanation, but I stayed silent. My parents didn't comment on the sudden mood change, but no doubt they noticed. They always noticed, even the littlest things.

"What do you say, Kozue? Another brother or sister?" asked Hiruzen.

"Brother" I muttered, "I'll have a little brother".

"You don't know that, baby," said Mom softly, amused, even.

"Yes I do".

Hiruzen smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

I felt my heart drop.

He wasn't Dad anymore.

You guys have no idea how happy you guys made me with all your reviews and follows and favorites! I swear, every time, without exception, I always feel warm and fuzzy when I see that you guys are enjoying my story.

Kozue is seeing a new side of her dad, so let's see what happens with their rocky relationship (there will certainly be a bit or bad blood between them in the near future).

I've been trying to update this chapter for over a month now (it's been ready since before the Christmas holidays, and it was my plan to upload it then as a gift from me to you guys, since you've all given me so much!) but the internet connection was just crap. So I haven't been able to update this chapter (believe me, I felt your pain), but here it is, and I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Also, a note to you all, I'm moving to a different country, so I don't know when I'll be able to update the next chapter, which I admit, have yet to start writing.

And as always, please review, fave, and follow, none of these go unnoticed, and as I hope you lot have seen, it does help with motivation and faster updates.

Next chapter we meet Asuma!

Cheers,

CupcakeLooney