Honestly, I don't know why rebirth never occurred to me. Probably because I figured you lost your memories of your previous life when you were reborn. I retained everything. Floating in darkness, while warm and comfortable, even more so compared to the way I had died (a car crash in winter at night is not something I recommend), it was incredibly boring. I could only pass time with my mind by reviewing fact and things I knew. Not horribly exciting when most of it was now useless. Dead people don't need fashion and pretty makeup designs.

But at some point, things began to change.

Things began to get a little tighter. Not enough to be uncomfortable yet, but enough to be noticeable. Then my body began to feel weird. See, when I had died, I could no longer move my body. But now it felt like your limbs do when they fall asleep and then you move them. It was highly annoying, even more so when I was unable to rub them to make them feel better. Then I began to hear muffled noises. Sounds I could not identify. All the while, my space was slowly but surely getting smaller. Then I moved.

It was nothing major, but it was more than I had been able to do in a very long time. Hands began to clench and unclench. I could start to move my arms and legs out a little. But none of it was substantial, until at one point something pressed on my surroundings from the other side. It startled me enough that I kicked out, harder than I had before. The muffled sounds I had been hearing before suddenly became louder, but it was never enough for me to make out what the noises were. I thought they were voices.

There was more pressing from the other side, and I knew there were others. I knew I was not alone here and I had to get out. I pushed back with all my might. But I was weak and could make no noise. Gradually the noises from the other side faded and they stopped pressing back. I was alone again. The loneliness bore down on me.

As time went on, I began to notice more and more things. The thing I was in carried the same type of feeling as the one I felt running through me, only as I got used to it, it was less and less uncomfortable and more and more soothing. Off and on, the others on the other side would press against my confinement I could hear more muffled sounds. I began to pick out their presence. There were three or four of them that came back time after time. It gave me hope. Someone out there had not given up on me.

Maybe as I got stronger, I would be able to push my way out with their help.

It was during one of the lonelier moments when something happened. There was a much stronger push from the other side. Far stronger than what I had ever felt before. And I hurt. Like I had been crushed. It was then that everything began to change.

There was a constrictive feeling. The walls around me were closing in on me, tighter and tighter. The muffled sounds around me grew to an all-time high. Not enough to make out words, but enough that I knew they were voices. I was being pushed through something and it hurt. Suddenly I knew that this should not be happening. I fought to stay in my safe spot.

I don't know how long it went on but it hurt so much, getting worse and worse each time.

Then suddenly the pushing stopped and I was free. It was cold and bright and loud. I still hurt and I was screaming. In the background I could hear a baby crying.

I felt something large pick me up and it was then I finally opened my eyes. There was a huge person holding me. I screamed. Only it was a baby who screamed. That baby I hear in the background had been me.

When the doctors finally cleaned me up and returned me to the woman I guessed was my mother, I was beyond worn out. I could make out a few words like premature and lucky. That hard shove had been someone running into mother, causing her to go into early labor. I guessed that it could not have been too early, considering I was not in an incubator. But it had been early enough to make them worry.

Mother cooed tiredly at me and nearby I felt the presence of the ones who had always been nearby. There was another woman who looked vaguely familiar and two young boys. I could hardly make out any details. I baby's eyes are not the most developed ones.

Beside my mother was a man I guessed to be my father. As mother began to fall asleep he picked me up from her arms. It was then that I decided I liked him. His eyes were tired looking but looked happy and proud all at once. I knew he loved mother and me. I had been born into a good family at least.

Mother had long black hair and dark colored eyes. She fair skinned and beautiful, even after giving birth. Father had shorter, almost wild, black hair and onyx eyes. He was a little darker than mother but still pale, making the creases under his eyes more noticeable. His arms were warm too. Warm and safe, until he spoke.

"Hitomi. My little Uchiha Hitomi."

What?

I stared at the man who held me until it sunk in. Then the waterworks started once more. Later I would feel bad about the lost look the man had on his face, but right now I had bigger problems.

Uchiha. Mother fucking Uchiha. I was going to die. I knew where I was now. I knew what was going to happen. I was born just to die again.

My wails could be heard all the way down the hall.