DISCLAIMER- I own nothing!

…..

I threw the notebook across the room.

"Argh!"

The pencil quickly followed and I launched myself off the sofa. The temper tantrum wasn't my first and I doubted it would be my last.

Naturally, they had all been over Japanese.

I hate, hate, hated the language! Why was is soooooo fucking hard?

How difficult could it be to translate some Tangled? Let me tell you: very!

I just...the words just wouldn't fit right! How frickin' dare they. They just didn't sound as good as the English and it was pissing me off.

I missed the sound of actual music, not my own reedy voice. I wanted orchestral 'How to Train Your Dragon' and Spotify and club music and, and….!

I hadn't been dancing since a week before the car-thing.

I wanted shitty beats that got me obsessed and the most basic lyrics sung by millionaires just wanting to get richer.

I couldn't even play an instrument here. There wasn't any electric guitar or grand piano or DJs. I couldn't play a note regardless (aside from a very shaky two-finger rendition of the opening theme to 'Howl's Moving Castle) but now there wasn't really much to learn. Or, at least, the ones best suited to recreating those songs.

Sometimes, it was just so hard, you know.

It wasn't truly homesickness. I'd kinda gone through the most of it in the womb. Although the occasional strike of melancholy did occasionally hit me.

This was just...frustration.

There wasn't TV like I'd known and there wasn't any internet or anything! I'd been spoiled with technology back then. Here, even though there was 'romaji', there wasn't really any European influence. Which meant no industrial Rev and no European music or food or anything. Not to say that Japanese culture was inferior without it but, just as the rest of the world would be different without Japanese influence, this world had developed differently because of it.

I wasn't sure if the lack of 'Despacito' was a perk or a loss.

Fuck it, even that over-played tune would be incredibly welcome at this point.

Hitoshi was out hunting (that cat was too expensive and pampered for us to pay for everything) and dad was doing a shift at the missions desk again.

I need to fucking make something. Something I was good at, just to convince myself that my past life wasn't completely incompatible with this one.

I eventually relaxed over key lime pie. Of course, this was after beating limes into a pulp (which wasn't even necessary). And pushing the crust into the tart tin was actually really therapeutic. When I started in on the filling, I was humming.

By the time I was doing the dishes, I was belting out "Riverbend" and feeling much, much better. The window was open (I didn't think of the repercussions of this) and the breeze had my hair flowing like Pocahontas' herself (it wasn't).

When Genma coughed, from where he was slumped casually against the island, I threw the plate at him. Naturally, the dick caught it but the suds still hit his face.

"Gah-k!" I clutched one hand to my racing heart and told myself the kitchen was just really hot.

I wasn't humiliated beyond belief that I'd been caught dancing around the kitchen and singing off key.

Pffft.

My face was steaming.

I stubbornly turned away from my intruder as he smiled knowingly around a senbon. I wondered if I could make him swallow it. With my foot.

"Sooooo…" he smirked and I glared down at the spotless bowl I was scrubbing viciously. By hand. And it was squeaking. I had a lot of frustration, okay. "I didn't know you sang."

"..."

"Badly too," he mused. Oh, that-

I whirled around hotly, one fist already raised to smack him (and ta dah! Bad mood returns!) before he started laughing, propping his stupid face up on one hand.

"Ha! I knew that would get ya' going, brat. I was only kidding," he reassured me. Unsurprisingly, I didn't feel any better. "You weren't half bad- actually pretty good."

Wow, nee-chan. Way to make a girl feel good about herself.

"Well, thanks," I grouched "but why are you here?" I moved on quickly, hoping to preserve the scraps of my dignity.

"Are you alright?"

The words, said firmly and with no humour anywhere on his face, hung in the air for a long moment.

"...Fine." my reply was just a tad too late. Well, so much for leaving me alone. Genma could be incredibly persistent and I knew if he had even an inkling of a problem, that damned ninja paranoia wouldn't let him rest until he was satisfied.

I knew why he was here; It was always either to pick my thoughts or my cake tin.

Knowing Genma, it wasn't to ask me if my face hurt or if I'd made up with the boys.

He knew all that stuff already. It had been almost three weeks since we'd made up, after all.

He wanted to know how it affected me, instead.

I was, in my own opinion, incredibly tolerant. Especially considering the ideals I carried. More so than most people around here, ninja and civilian alike. I also knew kids. The boys may have technically busted my face but they were children as well as soldiers. They had little concept of what 'play' actually meant.

Ninja children didn't play the normal games. Or with civilians.

All their games were carefully concealed training activities; 'ninja tag', 'hide and seek' and finger games for dexterity. Not to forget that they had been taught how to kill from the age of seven. And they fought each other in 'play spars'. Violence was not discouraged, even bullying. So long as every soldier could fall in line when the time came and fight well, the teachers didn't particularly care how they got there. So, technically, the boys really didn't know any better.

But that didn't mean I wasn't furious.

I had brought Yondaime's around to Genma's just as promised, of course. I liked to keep my word, I made a point of it, but that didn't mean I didn't exploit loopholes; Genma and I had smugly eaten ourselves sick without letting them have a scrap. Genma had grounded them (for ninja's, restrictions on routine were almost unbearable) and we'd done that for almost three weeks (at least once a week). I was pretty sure I gave myself a mouth ulcer from the sugar and I felt sick just thinking about it…but we'd been maliciously satisfied.

Poisoning them wouldn't have been worth the hassle for the attempted murder of genin. Or the taint on my rep.

However, I couldn't really stay angry at them. They were victims, in a sense, to their own system. The propaganda was extreme around here and the indoctrination started essentially from birth.

I was fully aware that if I didn't have the memories of a political history student sat in my head, I would be just as absorbed as the other kids.

Jonin, and a few chuunin, were all aware of their own involvement. Being a ninja, a figure of total suspicion and paranoia, made one alarmingly self-aware. They treated the system as a necessity. Even if some, like my dad in particular, hated it.

They'd never known any different, though.

They didn't know about the French Revolution or democracy or communism etc. They hadn't had any of that stuff happen. Even the Warring States period was just used as an example of how 'good' the current system was and why the village was so precious, yada yada. I had about 600 years of world history stuffed into my head.

It sickened me to just sit here.

Well, I knew I'd never be able to translate 'Les Mis' which sucked balls. I adored that musical. Being charged with treasonous behaviour for singing "Do You Hear the People Sing?" would be really fucking stupid.

Now, I knew that I wasn't going to, I don't know? instigate a political uprising. It sounded cowardly, to refuse to fix something so broken, but...look at Kiri. Civil war destroyed their society. What a terrible place it was now. Actually, it had always been that shit, in all honesty.

Danzo and the Sandaime would cheerfully slit my throat before I could so much as grab a stool to preach on.

I could start screaming out feminism in the market place too (it really pissed me off when most women were told to stop working once married. That's why Mikoto wasn't a kunoichi anymore. And why Yoshino and everyone's mothers tended to be housewives. Tsume was the rare exception, being the Head of a Clan that decided it's leader through the pack-mentality of 'Top Dog'). Kunoichi were taught different things to boys at the academy and either shuffled off into infiltration or the medic corps. So, seductresses or nurses, huh?

I wanted to go all suffragette and bomb the council member's houses and chain myself to railings (maybe the Hokage monument?) but I knew I'd be jailed before I could so much as unravel the cuffs. I was exempt from too much stigma as, not only was I just a child, but I was cooking, an 'acceptable female occupation'. I'd already been asked by some of the grocers in the market when I was going to join a restaurant.

Err, excuse you!

I was gonna open up my own fucking place and then they could all go screw themselves whilst I ran a Dessert Empire.

I was gonna kick this society in its stupid, patriarchal balls!

"Kiharu. You look like you're going to stab me with that knife…" a warm hand wrapped around mine and lowered said blade back into the soapy tub. Shit, Genma had asked me something, hadn't he?

"Well, that answers that question, I guess." he sighed and I felt the warm air hit my scalp from where he stood behind me. Two hot bands, his long arms, wrapped around my shoulders (I guess I really was growing, almost reaching Genma's shoulders) and pulled me back into a half-hug. A scruffy chin rested on my head.

"I won't ask. You know as well as I how dangerous thoughts like that can be. But you know you can always come to me, depend on me, kid."

I wanted to say something sassy about chickens and broodiness but I couldn't bring myself to. This fear and vulnerability...it was real and I needed it. Fuck it, Genma- he always cut me straight through.

Leaning back into the dependable warmth behind me, I understood.

The boys might have scared me with their childish fickleness and strong views but...Genma was very intelligent and much older.

I could trust him, like neko-tou. I had to. If I couldn't trust anyone...that was no way to live.

"Thanks nee-chan."

A chuffed breath and a rough (but still considerate, never too harsh) squeeze.

"Brat...and to think I almost called you 'imouto'!"

"...You know, that still counts, right?"

…..

My eighth birthday was like any other I'd had.

At first.

Even the presence of newly minted genin Izumo and Kotetsu and Chuunin Shisui (who ignored each other admirably) didn't make much impact.

Well, by 'admirably ignored' I meant that Kotetsu, and – to a subtler degree – Izumo, glared daggers into the back of the smug Uchiha's head.

Maybe it was because he was their military superior and yet three years their junior. Maybe it was because he managed to stuff more cake in his mouth. Maybe it was because, Oooh I don't know, Shisui's gift wasn't a new pack of cards (I would use them later to thoroughly thrash those two and scam all their genin earnings) that they had obviously opened for a game or two beforehand, to 'test' them out.

For the record, Shisui's leaf-charm anklet was beautiful and I sensed the hand of Mikoto involved. Honestly, who could blame her? I'd fully expected Shisui to casually hand me a massive coupon for a year's supply of dango out of pure unholy glee.

I tried extra hard not to think of how Natsuko-oba and Inokumo-oji hadn't come. Or how Noko wasn't here to give me a new hair-clip. How I'd had to get ready by myself without mum to brush my hair or squeal over my dress.

But anyway, the boys were pretending they weren't idiots (an impossible task, really) but they were on their best behaviour. I mean, there was only them, Genma, Hana (and triplets, of course) and my family (including Sora and Inoichi and Ino) at the house.

Hana had been a bit miserable lately as her mum and dad's fights (something to do with dominance in dog packs having to be proven through prowess – Hana's dad had insinuated one-too-many times that Tsume was better off succeeding to him after two kids) had come to that infamous conclusion.

Hana's dad had his ass handed to him so thoroughly he'd had to flee.

It had surprised me as much as it…didn't. The guy had been pretty cool, like Kiba had been (wild and reckless but ultimately a cool guy), but he'd also been arrogant and I'd always wondered how he and Tsume had co-existed for so long.

Hana had been sad for a while before her mum had taken her aside as clan Heiress. (Since then she'd taken to eying the boys up like particular pieces of meat hung over a butcher's counter. Not in a fangirl way either; more like she was wondering how best to fillet them. It was a hilarious expression in her cute lil face)

So, anyway. The party was going as smoothly as it could. The cake was a two-tiered vanilla and caramel creation (it was my birthday, I could do as I pleased). Shisui hadn't moved two feet from the cake or me since he'd clapped eyes on how I protectively shielded it from everyone.

I was pretty sure having that boy as part of the unofficial and unspoken protection squad was a new level of counter-productive, but it was sweet nonetheless.

I tried extra hard not to think of how I'd made the cake by myself, without mum there to bop icing on my nose. Thankfully, Shisui was suitably distracting, especially when he all but slapped Genma-nee's hand away from a tempting drip of caramel.

It was Hitoshi who made things really interesting.

And it came in the shape of a scroll. Why, that stupid cat-

"'Toshi? I can't use chakra like that, you know?" was my super polite way to tell him I wasn't going to be a ninja and he could fuck off if, after all this time, he thought he could make a bid for it.

My dad was gaping (actually everyone was) and Hitoshi simply gave me his patented 'you'll thank me for this later, you ungrateful twat' look.

"It will be much easier because, unlike other contracts, you won't be signing for a group or a Boss...if you manage this, I will be with you always, except when Seiichi-sama needs me." He growled, surprisingly polite for once. It was amazing how things could change at a party.

My eyes blew wide at the gesture.

For someone as tenacious (or, as I called it, 'stick-up-their-ass-y') as the panther, that was practically a declaration of love and dedication.

I'd have been less surprised if he'd named me his new religion.

"Hitoshi...summons are considered ninja business. It wouldn't be...proper, if Kiharu-chan had a contract and didn't use it for the betterment of our village through service."

My eyes almost popped out of my head and I whipped around to stare at Inoichi-oji.

"It's illegal? I'll be arrested?!" my voice cracked as I panicked and the other children looked just as dismayed. Shisui looked half a moment from Shunshining me out of there and the triplets had circled me at a gesture from Hana. The boys were still gaping at the scroll- honestly.

I briefly wondered if I was too young to make a will. Stupid cat, thinking that the world would bend just because he wanted it to!

The Yamanaka Clan Head frantically waved his hands around at the sight of distressed children. He was almost sweating at the scene of the chaotic confusion (dad was now holding my body) and I absently wondered how he'd survive a pre-teen Ino.

"No! No! It's not illegal- but, the council won't be – err – happy and some ninja might contest the decision...a civilian, seen to be meddling in places they don't belong, might get...messy."

I turned to look at the massive black feline, who's smug expression hadn't shifted (He really was 'the cat that got the cream'-or rather, the summoner...dick), and his poisonously green eyes looked at me knowingly.

The bastard knew how I felt about fucking with people. Half the time he was my silent partner and he always seemed to be around anytime I decided to act out.

What a gift, eh?

His eyes gleamed again and the growing grin on my face was immediately extinguished. He was still an asshole.

I hoped I wouldn't get killed for that smug kitty.

….

By June, things had shifted again.

After Akane-sama (a lovely woman in her mid-fifties who'd retired as a medic-nin when she lost her left arm in the Third War) had healed my eyes, solemnly supervised by Shisui, I had made a point to deliver her red velvet and cream cheese cupcakes every week or so.

Just as thanks, of course.

This had nothing to do with the merchant who, two weeks before my birthday, had told me to run home to my mother like a good little girl.

(I had slipped two mice Hitoshi had graciously provided me with into his money pouch)

(I hoped they were rapid)

It also had nothing to do with the three more enquires for my baked goods (in return for some produce or favours) by an Uchiha gate-guard, an Uchiha police officer and one of the female masseuse from the Onsen.

On a completely unrelated note, Yuri-oba from the dress-shop had recently heard all about my business with the raven-haired dojutsu-users. I had completely forgotten that Yuri-oba was a civilian woman in retail and ergo a gossip turbine. Tut tut.

In other news, I'd also been 'called in' to watch Ino and Shika 'round twice a week. Mainly when Yoshino-san or Sora-oba wanted extra sleep. I'd met Chouji briefly when he was being watched one time by Yoshino and, let me tell you, that was a cute baby. He was like a little dumpling with a tuft of ginger hair on top of his head. All he wanted was a bottle, though, which was hilarious but such a pain. So, whilst he was being fed, Ino would tug on a silently suffering Hitoshi whilst I snuggled Shika.

That was the best bit.

Shika loved me. I was this miracle that (his baby genius mind understood) was able to shut Ino up, get Chouji to stop fussing and I was happy to hold him whilst he slept. I was warm and I purred. I mean, sure I was a glorified pillow, his favourite place to nap, but I'd fucking take what I could get!

I relished in the love when Shika would spot me immediately and insistently reach his arms up for me, face grumpy. Then his head would tuck under my chin, one arm slumped over my shoulder and then his little hand would pat my neck until I started purring.

From an objective point of view, I was being treated like an instrument but…well, babies were super susceptible at this age. I was kinda on-purpose-but not-really hoping that Shika would be so attached to me for a long time.

The rest of his life would be great, thanks.

I wasn't anywhere near as close to the Nara as I was to Sora-oba and Inoichi-oji. I had to take what I could get at this point. Like, emotional dependency from the Clan Heir.

Hitoshi in particular had spent most of my life purring at me. Even if I frequently wanted to skin him, I was incredibly attached to him. We could direct each other without words and, when he was gone, it felt like I was missing a limb.

I wondered if the feeling was mutual and that was the real reason the massive cat had insisted I inherit the summoning scroll.

Pat, pat, pat.

A tiny hand patted my cheek and I turned my head to meet the grumpy gaze of Shikamaru.

His dark hazel eyes stared at me impatiently for another moment before it came again.

Pat, pat.

A thick, rolling purr vibrated my ribcage, which the young Nara boy was nestled against. The purr was long and drawn out and I could see Shika almost going cross-eyed towards the end. With a hum of satisfaction, the baby tucked his head under my chin again and almost immediately fell back asleep.

For a while, I just held him, until my civilian arms started to ache and I had to shift him to the other hip. Kneading and whipping ingredients only strengthened your arms so much, after all. He was so soft and warm, smelling of skin and blankets and baby powder. It was comforting, reminding me strongly if my own childhood. My adult mind fully remembered this life as much as my last, nothing faded as it would with normal babies. I remembered kaa-san singing softly in my ear as the nursery slowly lightened at dawn. Even back then, she smelt of honey and jasmine. My throat felt tight and I had to swallow hard, holding Shika just that little bit closer.

Missing my mother…was like a homesickness that never disappeared. Sometimes, the thought of her made me laugh, all the silly things she would do. How her face would look when dad was particularly embarrassing.

Other times it was like wanting to run. Like I wanted to go home but didn't know where it was.

And she was always there. Or rather, not there. So, so conspicuous in her absence.

She was in the purple flowers in the window-box and the silk kimono's in shop-fronts. She was cold jasmine tea left too long and funny doodles drawn on the steamy bathroom mirror. She wasn't there when I woke up at dawn and wanted a hug.

I brushed my own hair now and picked my own dresses. I practiced my own letters and did all the shopping. I was the one who sewed the rips in dad's flack jacket or insisted on washing Hitoshi's bandanas.

I couldn't remember if Shika's mother had survived the series. All I knew was his devastation at the deaths of Asuma and Shikaku. I clutched him a little tighter.

Yoshino came around the corner from the kitchen and sighed in relief when she saw all the babies were relatively settled.

"Ah, thank goodness we have you, Kiharu-chan." She smiled warmly and I was once more reminded how lovely she could be when she liked you. If she didn't…I'd recommend emigrating.

"Of course, Yoshino-san! No need to pay grumpy genin!" I eye-smiled at her and she snorted at the idea.

"Definitely not." She agreed, moving over to take Shika before my arms fell off. "As if I'd pay for brats to drop my baby…" a grin broke over my face as I reached down for Ino.

"Isn't Shika's cousin Ensui a genin?" I settled the blond into the crook of my neck and she sleepily grasped my hair. Great, sticky fingers. "You could go all scary Matriarch and make him too scared to mess up?" I cackled cheerfully and she grinned back. With a frickin' lot of teeth.

"Ensui?" she cocked a brow and- damn, she's so badass. "That dunce would fall asleep 10 minutes in. He wouldn't even wake up if I set his mattress on fire…" I wondered if she'd tried-

Turning away and rocking my imouto gently, I desperately bit my lip so I wouldn't wake the babies. Poor, poor Ensui. He was around 16 and would be attempting the chuunin exams at the end of the year. That was still a while for Yoshino to force D-ranks on him, though. Whether on or off duty.

I'll say it again; poor, poor boy.

Speak of the devil and he shalt appear.

The slide of the door 10 minutes later reveals a bedraggled teenager, who looked like he'd rather be at the bottom of the Naka than reporting to Yoshino.

Some days, I could completely relate.

Ensui was dressed in the standard uniform (booooring!) except for the most perfect green cat eyeliner.

"Your eyes are incredible" was out of my mouth before I could think. I stood for a moment and contemplated throwing myself out of the window.

Both Nara turned to me in surprise and I wondered if Yoshino thought I had some kind of thing for Nara men. In all honestly, she wouldn't be wrong.

"Thanks." The teenager looked uncertain and I smiled as reassuringly as I could up at him. "You…don't think it's weird?"

Huh?

"Err, no? I mean, you've done it really well? It's even and everything…" I gestured to the smoothly curving line with one finger. Apparently, I was speaking gibberish as Ensui frowned in consternation and stepped closer to me. Genius Nara probably struggled with the little things.

"I mean, I'm a guy wearing makeup." He squinted and I wondered if ninja also struggled with self-expression on top of all the other shit they couldn't figure.

It was like Inoichi all over again. So, obviously, I told him as much.

"Urgh, you're just like Inoichi-oji!" I placed Ino into her bassinette before whirling back around to the teenager and cocking my hip. "'I'm a boy, I can't be pretty!' he says. Well, I'll say it again! Nothing is just for boys and nothing is just for girls.

"You can wear eyeliner because you want to and it makes your eyes look amazing and Inoichi-oji can have beautiful hair and Hana can roll in the mud with her dogs! It doesn't matter. You could wear heels and a dress and I could wear boxers and have short hair! We'd wear what we want and look good regardless." Yoshino looked disturbed and I remembered that she herself wasn't without prejudice, no matter how awesomely fearsome I thought she could be.

Ensui looked like I'd just told him up was down and the Hokage was a professional ballerina.

Not that they had those here.

"Now…" I continued on severely, moving forwards to hook arms with my new compatriot, who was still standing there gaping like a fish. I led him over to where his aunt had just set down a newly-fed Chouji and shoved the empty dishes into his arms. Hitoshi, who lay stretched in front of the steps to prevent any accidents because he was lazy and boring and responsible, chuffed at my unending ability to pick up strays. It was kind of pissing me off at this point. Even if I did only have five human friends.

"…where do you get your makeup from?"

….

A/N- ahh! I'm so happy! All I can say is thank you for the response to this fic and please continue to comment etc! A couple of people (on here and AO3) have asked me about pairings/mentioned them and, when Kiharu's 13, I'll give you guys a list for you to vote for! It will last for a while as I don't ever plan on writing children in love like some fics. Also, I'm not going to force Kiharu with someone who I don't feel would work well with her. That being said, I don't agree when fics show people ending up with their first partner as that never happens in real life. Kiharu will have multiple boyfs and then eventually find the right person; Like everyone else! So, pretty soon (chapter 12, maybe?) I'll ask you all for suggestions you'd like included in the poll, ok? Now, I felt the last few chapters had been appropriately light-hearted so it was time again for some serious issues...Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! xxx