A/N: I actually have a very...delicate opinion on Sasuke and the increasingly bad and twisted decisions he's made throughout the manga. Also I refuse to even acknowledge the last volume of Naruto. Chouji's kid was the only good to come from the ending.

Chapter2: The one with the calendar

Holy shit it's Sasuke!

I glared at the (my?) reflection, hands slowly moving up to poke at my cheek. The skin felt real. It even looked real. It was also, I grimaced slightly, completely blemishless.

I can't believe he has better skin than me.

I sighed as I made my way out of the bathroom and onto the bed, the sight outside showed a twinkling night sky and I could now clearly see a few houses that definetely did not look like they belonged in my neigbourhood. Taking a seat on the bed when a wave of dizziness hit me -I tried to ignore my extra appendage- I looked at my hands, poking and prodding at the skin for a little while longer. I could feel my heart beating rapidly and my hands were slick with sweat. I felt nauseated and the added confusion of apparently being Sasuke wasn't really helping at all.

And then startlingly, I realised I was in shock.

Breathing accelerating as my panic began to manifest into confused mumblings, I tried to remember what the first aid lady at our school had mentioned on the topic.

Uh, keep calm?

Fat load of help that was. I tried to lay down on my bed, noticing the fact that I was wearing the pajamas I had on when I was me and that they were a few sizes to big, and warm up. Parents being doctors meant that even if the school had given us shit first aid advice, I still knew a bit about how to treat a person that was in shock.

Even if that person was me.

I reached behind me for the pillows under my head and moved them to the lower part of my body, trying to keep my legs elevated and head low so that the blood flow to my head would increase. I didn't need to try very hard at keeping myself warm because for some reason Sasuke's body was already quite high temperatured. The keeping calm, however, I was having more problems with.

I thought about kittens in tea cups and clouds as I breathed in through my mouth and out through my nose-

or was it in through the nose and out through the mouth?

-and continued to do so until I felt my heart rate slow down. I lay there for what felt like hours in the bed that wasn't mine, in the body that wasn't mine, until the fatigue became too much and sleep took me.

The sunlight wafting in through the glass door woke me up.

(Seriously though, who the hell would invest in a glass door and place a bed in front of it

well, except the Uchiha's apparently.)

I didn't exactly feel tired. But the night's revelation had me sporting a headache nontheless as I lay in my own sweat.

Ewww.

I'd need to take a shower today, it was inevitable, and I also needed to pee. Badly.

Sitting up on the bed, the covers had been thrown off sometime during the night, I glanced at my hands again. This time noticing how small they were. I knew I was small for my age but this was tiny. I stood up and jogged towards the bathroom, I needed to see what age Sasuke was and I didn't think asking anyone would help. Especially since his mental state would be questioned after that stupid massacre.

Fuck. The Uchiha Massacre!

I'd completely forgotten about that in my shock and panic. Did this mean I'd have to deal with a criminal brother that actually loved me but I had to hate?

I grabbed my head, leaning against the bathroom walls, as another wave of dizziness hit me. Too much thinking, too early in the morning.

Shaking my head mentally, I moved to stand infront of the small rounded mirror that was plaed on the wall next to the sink. A sink that was taller than it should be for an eleven year old. I squinted at my reflection (was it even me anymore?), trying to figure out what age this body was at.

I look like a baby.

And I did. There was no exaggertaion in my statement. The face staring back at me was not yet devoid of baby fat, and had it not been for the signature hairstyle I would not have recognised the face as Sasuke's, especially without the scowl I'd seen him with regularly in the manga.

He's cute. Little Sasuke was probably the cutest thing I'd ever seen to be honest. And now I was him.

I wonder if I can get people to not use a suffix with me or if I can get them to use -chan.

Although 'sama' would probably be more in line with his personality.

I couldn't exactly figure out what age he was at (6-8 by the height if I had to guess), so I searched his room for a calendar or anything that would give me an inkling to what date it was exactly. Not like it would be of much help since I couldn't remember when Sasuke was born anyway. Dates weren't my strong point, even if it was a piece of Naruto trivia.

But, I realised giddily, my search turning frantic as I looked through the last drawer, I do remember Sakura's birth date!

As I looked through the other desk and under the bed, I wondered if Konoha even had calendars like they did in the UK. Did ninjas need them? I'd never seen any being used in the manga, not like I could remember much of the finer details either way. My memory wasn't the best, despite the fact that I prided myself on my fandom trivia.

Next time someone makes fun of me for my fandom knowledge I'll punch them.

The search itself was starting to look fruitless. All I'd managed to find were some kunais, shurikens, tags-

(which looked suspiciously like exploding tags,

I grinned at the possibilities of being able to use them.)

-and scrolls.

Wait. Scrolls.

Eyes widening, I turned around and filtered Sasuke's stuff into three piles: Weapons, Scrolls and Other Junk.

The biggest pile was definetely the weapons pile, which was no surprise considering the boy was living in a ninja village and was part of a ninja clan, what was surprising though, was the little trinkets in the 'Other Junk' pile.

I picked up the small cloth that had a monogram embroided on one corner.

M.U.

The 'U' definitely stood for 'Uchiha', and I had read enough about each character to know the 'M' most likely stood for 'Mikoto'. Sasuke's mother.

I surveyed the hankerchief once more, marvelling at the soft texture of the fabric before I folded it and placed it on the desk behind me. It would be a shame if the cloth got dirtied, I wasn't confident at all in my knowledge of cloths to try and clean the hankerchief if it did end up getting stained.

The morbid thought that maybe Sasuke had plucked the cloth from the dead body of his mother was enough to have me shuddering and pushing the 'Scroll' pile closer to me. I didn't need to invest in the inner workings of a traumatised child any longer.

Itachi must really have done a number on the poor kid, I thought as I opened the first scroll labelled with a 'Happy 5th Birthday brother'. The scroll itself was well taken care of, not even a stain in sight. It made me swell with an emotion I didn't dwell on for too long, instead I chose to open the scroll with a blue ribbon attached to it.

I blinked. Twice.

This looks like a normal calendar.

The scroll opened up and looked eactly like a normal calendar would, except all the months and their days were fitted onto one scroll. It wasn't a very big scroll either.

Huh, I scanned the scroll's content, eyes taking in every number, especially the bolded 2003 on the right hand corner. What the hell.

I rubbed my fingers over the date but it stayed the same. I rubbed my eyes, it stayed the same. I rolled the scroll, lay on my bed for a few minutes, got back up and re-opened the scroll and the date still said 2003.

This was turning out to be more and more confusing and I was glad (the thought also made me feel guilty) that at least I wouldn't have to deal with the kid's family. That quietness of the house, and the fact that no one had actually burst through the door with the racket I was making, indicated to me that the massacre had most likely already taken place.

So this body's about what, 7? 8?

I racked my brain for what age Sasuke had been when the massacre had taken place as I looked the scroll-calendar-over. There were a few words written across the side and even some dates that were circled.

July 23, birthday...June 9...Aha! September 11, academy second year.

I looked over the scroll one last time before picking it up. I walked over to the side desk where the scroll I'd noticed previously was hung and replaced it with the one in my hands. Afterwards I sat next to the stuff I'd scavenged from Sasuke's room and began thinking.

From the dates on the calendar this body was most likely 8, and starting the second year of academy training. Which meant that Sasuke had probably been talked to by a psychiatrist (a ninja psychiatrist?) and would have been showing signs of how Itachi's action had affected him.

"Damn." I muttered under my breath, staring at the scenery outside. I still didn't know exactly what day it was today, or why the scroll had said the year was 2003, or even how the hell I'd gotten into this bloody position, but I knew just thinking and freting about my situation wouldn't exactly help me.

Especially since I still really had to use the toilet.

A/N: Reviews make authors happy. So, uh, review I guess?