A/N: Thank you thank you chello baby, calcu22, Moonacre BunBun, and Evanelle for the kind reviews, and thank you to everyone else who has followed and favorited! You have warmed my heart and I hope to continue producing content you will enjoy.

Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto, Johnny Nash, or Spiderman.

CW: panic-like symptoms

Sunari opened her eyes, and noticed cracks on the ceiling above her. That's not very safe, she grumbled silently.

She pulled herself up and rubbed her eyes, balling her hands into fists and pushing away the sleep of the night. The barely padded sheets below her didn't seem as comfortable as they usually did, and her stuffed bear, with its flattened belly and dulled button eyes, looked smushed as though someone had slept on it all night.

Sunari surveyed the room drowsily, and thought it was a little odd the door to her shared room was open. Usually, it was closed shut whenever she woke up. Had it always been so cracked and creaky?

She hummed, and caught sight of the beds in the large room she and some of the other orphans shared. Even more odd was that said orphans were not lying in them. In fact, if she squinted hard enough, she could discern piles of dirty clothes on each of the beds in place of the children who usually wore them.

Whatever.

Sunari closed her eyes and started singing softly. On most days, she started her mornings humming some songs of her past life until someone realized she was awake and got Michi to feed her. She wasn't about that whole "crying for mama" piece though. She knew that would fuck with Michi's sleep schedule, and she wasn't a little shit. She wasn't going to make Michi's job harder just for the sake of indulging in some impulsive baby nonsense.

"I can see clearly now the rain is gone..." she whispered faintly.

Maybe the kids just had to go to the bathroom, all at the same time, and were fighting for it.

She didn't spot any clamor by the hallway though, and the bathroom light didn't look like it was on or anything—

Wait.

Sunari's eyes burst open.

She could see. She could actually see! Fully, wholly, entirely.

Finally.

She'd be lying if she said vision wasn't the sense she relied on most in her past life. Even having her glasses off bugged her immensely; she needed 20/20 vision back then or else she just wouldn't leave the house. It nagged at her daily in this new place too, and she anxiously awaited the day she would finally get to see again.

It was worth it.

Sunari drank in the scene as the input from her final sensory function came flooding in. The room really was empty of little orphan twerps, but the details composing it were much clearer. The walls looked like they were built of clay and painted over with a mix of subdued pastels, which made her think that maybe there used to be images of springtime and sunshine surrounding the space. Judging by the food rations and the skeletal frames of the other orphans, though, she thought maybe those images were a bit older than she would have liked.

There were a total of fourteen bunk beds in this room, laid out in two rows that were mostly straightened out. But where were the kids sleeping in them?

She continued her visual observations of her surroundings and glanced around her own crib. It was...well to be honest, it was a glorified wood crate with bedding haphazardly shoved inside. Her snacks "gifted" by Michi crowded the back end of her crib, appearing to be hidden away by blankets and pillows. But with her new clarity, she could tell just how obvious they were, poking out of not-so-random spots on her crib.

She face-palmed herself mentally. Just when she thought she finally outsmarted everyone.

External to her direct living space, Sunari saw that her little abode was actually nestled at the center of an alcove crafted in the shape of a half circle above her. It was located directly opposite the door across the wide room, which led into the hallway with the bathrooms and the other rooms. Her crib sat in the middle of the nook built into the walls, and above her head was a ceiling with innumerable cracks that really just shouted safety hazard, if she ever saw one. She knew that there was a window there too that completed the closed end of the nook, because she felt sunlight warm her body during the daytime, and on clear days she could make out a faint glimpse of the moon.

But actually seeing it? She never felt happier to see sheer glass in her life.

The window was a little smaller than she would have liked though, and actually looked a little like one of those circular submarine windows. But she'd take what she could get.

Otherwise, wow, the day was off to such a great start. She finally had all five senses back to her, the kids didn't bug her to wake her up, and she wasn't hungry yet—

Speaking of, where are the little brats and why haven't they come back yet?

Luckily, Sunari once managed to sneak the brooding Takuma a gracious piece of melonpan while he did his routine check-in, and in exchange he showed her how to get out of her crib on her own. Well, as best as you could show a baby with underdeveloped vision.

She reached up one of the front corners of the crib and tugged at a screw to loosen it from its hold. She crawled to the other side and did the same, and suddenly the side of the crib facing the door fell forward.

She was free.

She crawled out onto the textured clay landing of the raised alcove that her crib sat on, and peered down to the ground below it. It was a pretty far drop...

Fuck it. She clambered to the edge, and turned around to place her hands as holds over the edge. She slowly lowered herself down to the floor, and released her grip when she couldn't go down any further. She didn't fall in a straight drop and definitely didn't let out a yelp of pain when ass met grass, nope. It didn't happen.

After having successfully escaped, Sunari padded on all fours toward the door. With that weird adrenaline sensation that she called her "Spidey senses," she could tell that everyone was downstairs. Michi's warmth, Takuma's steadfast footing. Her curiosity was getting the better of her, and she crawled out to the hallway toward the stairs as quickly as a five-month-old could to join everyone in the excitement.

She should have known better.

Michi ruffled her blonde locks as she waited in anticipation in the expanse of the living room that doubly served as a welcome area for her orphanage, her eyes glued to the door as though someone would burst in any moment. She had all the kids wake up early and get dressed in their best clothes in preparation, which weren't much by the way, because her orphanage was underfunded and she could hardly afford to feed them three meals a day as it was.

That's why it was tantamount that they impressed their expected visitor.

Michi hated catering to the rich of Suna. Like the Wind Country daimyo himself, they considered the shinobi population of Suna too weak to care for them. As a result, they hardly interacted with the ninja, even less frequently hiring them for missions. On top of the daimyo outsourcing missions to blasted Konoha of all places, the lack of finances entering Suna's economy took its hit. Severely.

They entered an economic depression not too long after the end of the Third Shinobi World War. That war was...

Michi wouldn't go there. No, not today. Today, she had a client to impress.

Ryutsu Hisato wasn't the most pleasant of men, nor was he the most kind. He had an obnoxious way of interacting with people, and a tone of voice that was even more disagreeable.

His finances, on the other hand, were something Michi would tolerate a daylong conversation for.

Hisato inherited quite a large sum of money from his parents, who had owned a company crucial to the village's survival, something like Suna's water filtration system or other. Michi wasn't 100% sure where his money came from, but she was certain that she needed some of it to keep her kids alive.

Fortunately for Michi, Hisato and his partner were having difficulties with...fertility. To put it plain and simple, he couldn't knock her up. And she wanted a kid, badly. Hisato gave in, and contacted Michi about possible adoptees.

She initially recognized his Ryutsu family name from the water distribution buildings scattered throughout the village, and knew instantly that this was a man who could save her orphanage. In their first conversation, she dropped a subtle hint that her kids, bright minds as they were, couldn't join the Ninja Academy or the civilian equivalent because they couldn't afford school materials.

Hisato hummed, and mentioned even more subtly that he might be able to help with that, if she could help him.

And that brought her to the present day, where she had all of her kids slap on their best smiles and act on their best behavior. She wouldn't pretend that they could hide the rowdy bunch of twerps that they were at heart, but for an hour of observation, she hoped they would do their best.

They probably would though, judging by their behavior from the night before. At dinner, when she informed them about a patron with money who could make life just a little bit easier, she saw the moment they realized exactly what that meant, as they smacked their mouths shut in unison and listened intently to her instruction for behavior and dress.

Today, as her gaze spanned the room, she saw nothing but the happiest children, ages ranged from 2-15, with smiles so wide they could reflect the hot Suna sun and split it in two.

She was a proud orphanage mother in that moment.

But she couldn't ignore how her heart was divided too. On one hand, she was desperately hoping her dearest Takuma would take Hisato's attention. The boy had so much potential as a ninja, skillfully wielding the fearsome Puppet Master Jutsu, and he deserved better chances than life raised at a small, underfunded orphanage. Even at age 4, his puppets looked like they were crafted at chunin level, and the kitchen blades he finagled into his favorite child-size puppet held a mild threat to those within its range.

And she knew he felt an undue obligation to take care of everyone in the orphanage. She felt the slightest bit of guilt about that. After all, she was the one who told him she wasn't always going to be able to watch over them, but she could train him to be a shinobi...

On the other hand, she needed protection. Being so close to the village entrance meant that her home would be one of the first casualties if an invasion ever fell upon Suna, and her kids needed more than just her chunin behind to keep them safe. Takuma could easily provide that, if she trained him the right way.

Of course, she also had a new backup candidate for "orphanage protector," the only child in her household who wasn't downstairs with the rest of them.

Sunari.

Sunari was the one she couldn't let go. Having found her essentially at birth, Michi imprinted on the child like she was the duckling following whatever being she saw first. She fell in love with the girl, even if she had been scared out of her mind by the wild Killing Intent and demonic energy reverberating from Sunari's body when she found her burrowed in the sand.

With even more confidence than she held for Takuma, Michi knew Sunari would be strong. Stronger than herself, even. There was something about her chakra that filled her with such terror, such foreboding, such fear that she knew Sunari would be an intimidating presence in the world.

That was why she kept Sunari upstairs, instead of waking her. She wanted no chance of Hisato claiming her for his own; Sunari was her ward, her daughter, her protector, and she would never let her go.

The bells to the front door clanged gently, stirring Michi from her thoughts. She stood a little straighter, and noticed the same action being paralleled by the children scattered across the room.

She took a deep breath in, closed her eyes, and swallowed her worry. She breathed out, and reopened her lavender eyes.

It was showtime.

Sunari landed not-so-gracefully on the 42nd step down the staircase when the complaint came to her mind, yet again, of why there wasn't a damn elevator in this building. Of course she knew she could have been in a medieval era or some time period before the invention of said elevators, but really, didn't it make more sense in reincarnation tales to start a new life immediately after the end of the previous?

Plus, what did they do here when there were people like Sunari who couldn't easily get up or down the stairs?

She shook her head disapprovingly at the situation, but continued making her way down the steps. She knew she was probably already missing part of whatever big thing was happening, since she could sense an unfamiliar presence enter their front door. It felt like a showy jingle of gold coins and an unreasonable amount of scorn.

Great, Sunari surmised, the local bourgeoisie has arrived.

Whatever, then it was even better that she was late to the party. Sunari never got along super well with the rich anyway. At least, she hadn't five months ago, before this whole reincarnation thing.

When she finally made it down the full staircase, she looked around for a mop of pale sandy blonde in the heights above her. The kids were all definitely down here, but what the hell were they doing in such nice clothes? Where did they even get those clothes? Sunari never saw them befor—

She made eye contact with Michi, whose eyes widened with surprise in response. Sunari smiled, and before Michi could say or do anything, she exclaimed, "Michi-sama! Michi-sama, look! I can see everything now!" Sunari gestured to her eyes, and then pointed to Michi, "your hair is so pretty, but I like your eyes even more!"

Michi, to Sunari's great disappointment, looked like she was crumpling in on herself.

Sunari felt her smile start to fall, in tandem with Michi's deepening frown.

It was then she realized that all eyes in the room were trained on her. Including the unfamiliar presence, which was making its way closer and closer to her.

Sunari felt Michi's warm light get agitated, and looked all around the room for any indication of what was going to happen. She tried seeking out Takuma, but all she could see and feel from him were waves of mixed envy and unease.

Wha?

The presence stood before her, peering down at her small ass self. It wasn't so much that he looked, but rather that he radiated wealth; with disgustingly slicked black hair and the cleanest clothes she'd ever seen in the past four months, the man was the epitome of "what money can really buy you."

He smiled disturbingly, and to her (and Michi's) dismay, picked her up.

She was really scared now. She couldn't hide that fact, not even for Michi's sake. A strange, threatening, gross man had his hands on her body and she didn't consent to any of this and oh god why was this happening—

All of her thoughts halted to a disturbing standstill when she saw a symbol embroidered on the man's sleeve.

One little symbol, which shouldn't have been more than a small indication of what he did or where he worked.

But it said everything to Sunari.

A simple black outline of a gourd, with a rectangle embroidered above it like a lid. A symbol.

The Sunagakure symbol. The ninja symbol for the Village Hidden in the Sand. In the Naruto universe, a place that existed in the pages of manga books and who knows how many anime episodes.

A place that she shouldn't have been living in for the past five months.

That existential crisis sounds really good right about now...

"Well little cutie, what's your name? You look like a pretty little darling my wife would love to take care of."

It blew in like a hurricane.

The full-body shaking came first. It always came first. Then the shudders from deep inside her core, which translated into tears trickling down her eyes. God, it was going to hurt in the morning. Her heart started palpitating, and her hands felt numb. Her breathing was hit next, and she couldn't stop the hyperventilating that came to compensate for the panic that was beginning to take her over.

Then, she wailed.

No, she screamed. She pushed, she kicked, she shoved. She didn't care who this man was, whether she hit him or not, or why she was specifically the only one not invited to this shindig. She had a feeling she knew the answer to all three anyway, but she still didn't care.

Fire burned in her veins, and for the second time ever she felt it leak from her body like some kind of porous gas.

But that didn't matter, not at all. Because somehow, she reincarnated into the Naruto world, and to make things worse, she fell into Suna, a merciless death trap in the middle of a lifeless desert.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck. fuck.

She sensed fear from that man, and god damn did feel bitterly satisfying. He was shocked, and let her go like she was on fire.

In that moment, she was fire.

She fully expected to die this time, because no way in hell would she survive a second fall, especially when the height differential between Takuma and the strange man had to be at least two or three feet.

Sunari started numbing herself to the blazing pain. If she was going to be completely honest, she had already been doing that for the past four months and called it "acclimation" to make herself feel better. No one was the wiser, because no one knew it hurt in the first place.

In a brief moment of lucidity during her free fall, she sensed the man back away slowly, turning his head toward Michi, mumbling some words out of fear, and stumbled out the front doors. A faint sense of gratifying vindication flowed through her body.

But that niggling apathy came back. And this time, she was prepared. She was ready for darkness, a fatal end, the eminent demise, whatever.

It never came.

She was vaguely aware that someone caught her just before her body collided on the cold earthen floor. She assumed it was Michi, and closed her eyes. She'd find out later that it was actually Takuma who managed to dash over and save her from what he himself had been perpetrator of just a few months before.

None of that mattered right now though. Now, she was fire, and hurricanes, and numb, and hurt, all at once. She stopped screaming out loud, but the voice inside her head kept howling on and on.

For the second time in this short life, her body felt emptied of something. But this time, an unbearable burden was left in its wake, filling her to the brim.

A/N: How do they say...ah yes. Cat's out of the bag.