My next coherent thought was not until several weeks later. Up until then everything felt strange, like an out of body experience, or that I was sleeping in a car that was speeding down a motorway. It was extremely frustrating. I slept most of the time, I didn't dream, the time when I was awake it felt like a dream. Everything was very blurry, I was not able to make out the simplest things, which was irritating, my hearing was fuzzy, and no sounds were coherent enough for me to make anything out of them, which was an annoyance.

My euphoria came to me around the seventh week (I'm guessing it was seven), my vision became clear enough to not give me a headache straining my eyes, and my ears sharpened enough so that everything was not a constant buzzing sound, both of which I was extremely thankful for. Though I did not cry often- I'm guessing- the urge to release a loud wail of frustration was nearly overwhelming.

I could see that I was in a cot. The rising bars looked like a warped wooden version of a jail cell window that had been barred up. I also noticed I was alone. Though I had guessed this initially, I assumed right off the bat, that they would have put me with my twin.

Realisation.

Ah, that was an interesting time. My epiphany that I was a baby was some very logical, yet unbelievable, thinking on my part. I was lightly ashamed to say that it took me this long to figure out. To my credit, I was asleep half the time and in shock the rest, so it wasn't a massive blow to my pride that my deduction skills took this long to come into use. It didn't stop the ego bruising, though. Oh well, at least there was no one around to see it.

It was a shock to me that they did not put me with my twin, I couldn't assume why. Didn't people normally put twins (or cell mates?) together in the same cot? Or at the very least, the same room?

I wasn't always alone. However, they were not very desirable company to keep. I soon learned that lesson.

My care giver was old, fat and fried. I could tell she was not my mother. I had guessed by then that my mother had died, or had shipped me off somewhere. And that maybe my father just didn't give a toss about me, so never showed up if the social workers called him, I assume. The woman was in her late fifties with round glass marbles for eyes, they were nearly overlapped by the wrinkled nude flesh surrounding them like a bed sheet. Her round face was punctuated by thin, dragging lips and a long pointed nose. She had enough wrinkles to fit a deck of cards in her face, I'm sure. Maybe I should try it, when I'm older. It would be hilarious. Her face was also in a constant frown, turned into a scowl when she looked at me, though I am not sure why. To her knowledge, as far as I am aware, I am an innocent baby.

It was cold where I lived, as well, I can't be sure why, did they forget to pay the heating bill? But I knew that wasn't true. When the woman came to feed me (she did nothing else, apart from change me at the same time as feeding- and I fully resent her for it), I listened and heard the over accented footsteps of the vile woman, as she made her way towards, what I had dubbed as 'My Cell'. I recognised the sound of a person going down stairs, and I realised that I am either in the basement or the attic. The attic is unlikely, given that it is often too cold, not too warm, since hot air rises it was safe to say that I was in the basement.

And I did not like it.

From what I had guessed, judging by the amount of footsteps it takes the hag to reach me, I'm assuming that the room is only a metre or two long, and with an even shorter width. My cot had been placed, with it lining the back wall, I could tell because even though I cannot sit up on my own, I can shift my eyes around, and can see the scarcely decorated musty coloured wall, right next to me. It was slightly mouldy half way up, I don't know why, weren't there health checks on things like these?

If not, the plain idea is preposterous. Maybe not for a fully grown adult to live in, but a baby can get ill easy, it's immune system not yet strong enough to fight illness. Were they trying to kill me?

Other than the hag, I had not had any communication to the outside world, and if things carry on like this, I'm guessing I won't have for a very long time.

Another thing I had noticed, that The Hag's language was not English. Back at the rebellion, we had to learn a second language, we didn't get to choose which language, but we had to become fluent, or else there would be trouble. The language they had given me was Russian.

Russian.

It was a beautiful language, at least I thought so. Many wouldn't agree, thinking it was too rustic and rough. I found it endearing. My fascination not only stopped with the language, but I became absorbed in the culture, architecture and recent news. Anything.

We had to keep up with recent news, it was a necessity, we were not always told what advancement the rebels would take, so we found it important to find out ourselves. Occasionally someone would find a picture of one of the death machines we had sired together as a unit (with my blueprints, though we liked to think there was equal effort). So, everyone person in the unit was mailed a newspaper from the country which language they learnt. And I loved it. Though you could hardly call it being mailed, it was a helicopter dropping a wooden crate outside the base, whilst still in the air. Usually everything survived. You received no sympathy if it got broken, ripped or shredded.

I recognised the language she was speaking, it was Japanese. Number 019, was given Japanese to learn, I pitied him. He constantly sounded like he was an auctioneer with how fast he had to speak. They guy himself was nice, he had a standard appearance nothing special, blonde hair, brown eyes, black clothing. Like the rest of us, mostly. I was the opposite of him, appearance wise. I won't bother to picture how I looked then since I know I don't look the same now.

She didn't talk much so it took me awhile to figure out the language, and I doubt I would have recognised the foreign tongue if I didn't spend so much time with Number 019. Both Number 019 and I had taken to the Japanese way for entertainment. Manga ad Anime. We spent most of our time reading and watching the stuff, and any other time we would play Duel Monsters [1] with the cards we spent our allowance on.

I'm getting off topic.

The only time she talked was when it was angry mutterings, and I could tell that they were usually about me, that or she was bitching about her life. I didn't appreciate listening to either.

I had never been very active, in my past life. I needed to get the hang of calling it my past life. Anyway, I always preferred to be watching TV, reading Manga, playing games or learning. I was never against exercise, it just didn't appeal to me. Despite this, I kept myself fit, you had to, as you never could know when the unexpected could happen. With one mistake you could lose your life, and although we don't have the best lives, no one wanted to do that. I think they feared death, who wouldn't?

I went to the gym once a week, I wasn't like the some of the other women here, as they spent most of their free time in the gym and became had more muscle than most of the men. Though I didn't really care about looks, why would I? There was no one to impress. And even less who I wanted to impress. However, I definitely not like a specific three women who only cared about their looks, they didn't go to the gym, we shared it with the men, that was my theory why they didn't go, or they just didn't want to sweat. And they frequently only ate half of the rations they were given, I knew this as I stole their leftovers daily. I felt no remorse. Why would I? Number 026, Number 027 and Number 028 that was their code names. They were some of the lucky ones, they had friends before the rebels took them and they all managed to get in the same unit. Lucky bastards.

Despite not being as active a physically possible, I didn't detest exercise, like some people.

But this, this was too much. It was a lazy man's dream, their safe haven, their cloud nine, it was definitely not mine. Eighteen hours a day of sleeping, it wasn't bad, but it got boring and being tired all they time quickly lost its appeal. The lack of mobility nearly brought me to tearing my hair out (if I had any hair, I couldn't see any, but I'm sure it was there), if I could get my arms to move. I couldn't, but it was a nice thought.

What I used to take advantage of is now the bane of my existence. My arms refused to obey my minds commands and usually lay limp at my sides, the same with my legs, although I had found that when they did move, they were extremely flexible. This was something I hadn't known. Though that wasn't something to be ashamed of, I had never heard the word baby for all of my adult life, let alone seen a real one. I never found the topic interesting, to be honest. I couldn't fathom why someone would want a child, it would be loud, annoying, crying, stressful, unbearable, and let's not forget it would cry. I would also had to go through child birth, and that would not be pretty, I could just tell. Why would someone want to be a mother? It was food for thought, though I doubt I would dwell on the topic long.

Being a baby had its advantages, it gave me time to think, and with no one around to talk to me so they couldn't distract me. I had never been a talkative person in the first place. It got me thinking, where am I? It is obvious I am in Japan, I doubt there is another country that speaks Japanese other than Japan itself. But when am I? That was the real question, could I be after the war where the rebels had either been victorious, resulting in a monarch free world, or had they been dwindled down into the last few, leaving the world to pick up the pieces from their rage. I hadn't heard any building shaking bombs going off, so I don't think I was in a time during the war. However, it could be possible that I am in a rural area that was not so threatened by the rebels and their opposing forces.

I was not counting my first night of being alive because I have not a clue in hell what that was. It was best to erase it from my mind. In fact, I am not overly positive that it was not a dream. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't, and I could never be sure.

There was something strange in the air. And I don't mean a freaky feeling, I mean that there is physically something staining the air. Though I could never see it, I knew it was there, it was like a tingling at the back of my mind and a tickle on my skin. Radiation, maybe? Doubtful. The amounts of it varied, sometimes there was a flash of it, stronger than normal, though it was completely harmless, it still felt strange. Occasionally, there was unusual flares of this energy. It felt dark, dangerous and downright nasty. I don't know how it could feel like that, I did not want to know.

Other than the holy-fuck-what-is-that essence in the air, I had what I thought to be a normal first six months of my life. I observed my patron, I learnt some of the language, I knew they basics already-thank you Number 019- however, my vocabulary was still severely lacking, I could only form a few sentences, and that was in my mind, my body, namely my tongue, still refused to comply with my demands.

I was in the process of teaching myself to crawl at the seventh month mark. I am not sure if it is too early for a baby to be crawling, I had nothing to compare it too. Though my muscles are still not improving fast enough for my liking, they were still too weak and flimsy; I didn't need that, they were certainly a vexation. It was more frustrating than I would like to admit, and was partly ashamed to say that I had suffered from numerous temper tantrums because I was not able to complete it. It was not like I disturbed anyone, my cries were not that loud, I would like to think, no one came to check on me if I cried so I assumed that they merely couldn't hear me. I would not forgive them for their ignorance.

I had still not found my cell mate, but I was not disappointed, merely curious of who they were. I didn't know them long enough to be disappointed.

Then, at seven months old, I did not know that I would soon have a visitor that would shake the very foundation of my beliefs. I was only an innocent child, I wanted it to stay that way.

Why couldn't I be normal?

Number 008

Word count- 2399

Warning- Mild swearing.

Disclaimer- I do not own Naruto.

[1]- 'Duel Monsters' is the card game from the anime and manga Yu-Gi-Oh.

Answer- in Shippuden I believe that Sakura would win, this is purely because while she had a Sannin as a teacher and mentor, Temari didn't have that. Though pre- shippuden, Temari could easily win, I believe that is towards her both not taking being a ninja seriously and the incompetence of Kakashi as her teacher.

Question- What song would you play at your funeral?

(I know mine, find out next chapter)

Please review, it makes me feel special.