(Edited: 07/19/2021)

(Edited: 08/21/2020)

(Edited: 8/18/2018) (Authors Note at the end)

"Every morning I jump out of bed and step on a landmine.

The landmine is me.

After the explosion, I spend the rest of the day putting the pieces together."

(~Ray Bradbury)

Chapter Four: Jumbled

I sat cross-legged on the perfectly waxed floor of the Uchiha's living room, stacking up blocks I'd packed for my stay. Higher and higher they went, leaning dangerously to one side.

The room was quiet save for the occasional sound of papers rustling from the scrolls Fugaku was going through as he sat relaxed on the couch.

Said man was reading some Important Looking stuff, light glinting off the red irises of his activated sharingan. They seemed to glow, even under the fluorescent glow of the lights.

Whether his bloodline was activated because it unveiled some hidden message in the parchment or allowed him to read faster, I didn't know.

Not many outside of the Clan knew much about the sharingan—or its abilities—as they held it close amongst themselves.

All I knew was what I had scrounged up from a show I had (long ago) watched. I could understand the general idea of the eyes. Like the fact the mangekeyou sharingan was so powerful, they could control a fucking tailed beast.

There was also the fact they could see through complex genjutsu, as well as cast them. They were all also activated by traumatic events.

Personally, I wished I was born with those damn eyes. Memorize something after one glance? Fuck yeah. Sign me up.

If there was anything I wished to preserve, it would be the knowledge I had of this world. Don't get me wrong—It wasn't that the memories were dissipating or some shit like that.

Waking up in the Naruto-verse had me repeating the story to myself every night before bed; clinging onto those memories until the most important parts were no less than branded into my mind.

That wasn't to say I wouldn't forget things. There was a lot of information to remember and I, sadly, lacked an identic memory as 'Jemma'. I had been a normal human with normal mental capabilities and recollection.

Moreover, the thing about recalling those memories was that real life was different from a concept.

For example, an astronaut could watch endless videos, read countless amounts of books on what space is like—but nothing could truly compare to sitting in a rocket ship and blasting off into nothingness.

My reality had shifted completely when I ended up in this body. Corny as it was, my experiences were nothing like the many fanfics I read in another world.

I was originally here as my old self. Unable to physically touch or communicate with the world around me. My only friend had been a toddler for fucks sake.

My experience in that state was one-dimensional. Most of my senses were gone. As an apparition, I didn't feel beyond what occurred whenever a living organism walked through me. I couldn't smell or taste or touch.

Living as a being that could only see and hear… It was maddening.

There were times I was positive I fell into a trench of lunacy I would never be able to crawl my way out of.

Maybe I was mad.

It would explain my willingness to accept any and all excuses my brain came up with on my situation.

'I was meant to be in this body?' Sure.

'Akira was mixed with Jemma to create an entirely new person?' Sounds great!

The truth was; I had an endless list of questions and not a single gods damned answer. I was coping the best I could after 5 years. So what if I shoved down the bad memories with other shit memories and moved on? I was allowed to be happy! I deserved this second chance.

I fucking bypassed death. I am on the same level as a God!

But I was losing track of my original thought. Back to the sharingan.

It wasn't my first time being witness to the spiraling black tumoe inside of luminous red irises during my time here. Don't misunderstand; it was only a few times in passing—and happened rarely.

And as a person who easily became… infatuated (obsessed) with new concepts, I couldn't help but become captivated by them when the opportunity popped up.

To a girl who grew up in a world with natural colorings and shitty eyesight, they just stood out. (don't even get me started on how much of a mind-fuck it was to know people with naturally growing pink hair was a thing in this world).

In a terribly tragic way, the sharingan were…beautiful.

During most of the anime, I only saw them in the use of people with evil intentions (Madara, Danzo, Tobi, ext.) or tragic consequences (Kakashi) and so on.

The villagers feared the Uchiha because of their 'evil eyes' and not-so-wonderful attitudes.

So, to see Fugaku, the fearsome Clan Head, use his overpowered blood limit to do something as rudimentary as reading… It painted a rather cute picture. A lighter picture.

To think many would associate something I viewed as magnificent, as something to fear? It made me want to hug every Uchiha I passed.

Except the D-Bag Squad leader. And the overly pompous Uchiha who thought themselves above everyone else.

Fuck them.

Fugaku himself was a generic example of his clan. His face was always stuck in an imitation of severity and void of emotion. No matter what I threw at him, he took it in stride, never showing much of an emotional response. Replying only with cold facts and narrowed, suspicious eyes.

The only time I had gotten a smidgen of a reaction from was when I began calling him 'Gaku.

Even then, it was only a minuscule raising of his eyebrows.

I wanted to prove to myself that this shell of a character had, I don't know, some sort of a redeeming quality. Something that would make him seem more like a human and not the evil leader of a coup that almost sent the village into chaos.

The very coup that pushed Itachi to do the unimaginable.

Trying to break past all of those carefully crafted walls the Uchiha kept up unfailingly was like running on a treadmill in a hallway and expecting to reach the other end.

My worst fear was that I would find nothing. Just a careless, evil, man driven by the need for power.

Sneering, I punched the tower I had carefully constructed. Itachi was busy helping his mother with cleaning up dinner (I tried but she shooed me away), so I had little else to do than to fuck with Fugaku.

"Gaku?"

Red eyes snapped to meet my own. There was a lengthy pause before… "Hn?"

I held back the urge to roll my eyes out of my sockets. Why are you so cliché?

Mentally swatting away my thoughts, I did my best to look like the curious little five-year-old cutie-pie I was. The fact he watched me carefully, as if waiting for me to attack him like a rabid gremlin, was hilarious.

I stood on wobbly legs and waddled my way to his place on the couch. I ignored the way he tensed when I stopped in front of his crossed legs, stubby arms reaching up to him.

Was I too old for this? Probably. Would it stop me from doing what I wanted? No.

We were motionless, like statues, for a long moment (minutes, really, but who is counting?). I was determined this time to get my way I narrowed my own eyes in challenge.

Fugaku let out a breath of annoyance and placed his documents on the cushion next to him. With annoyance seeping through his every pore, the Uchiha Clan Head effortlessly picked me up and sat me on his leg.

What an interesting development…

Pretending to be completely oblivious to the awkwardness radiating from the grown man, I leaned my head against his chest and ran my fingers through the tips of his silky hair.

It wasn't as soft as Itachi's, but it would do.

This need to be coddled was completely new for me. As 'Jemma' I had never enjoyed sitting close to others, let alone snuggle up to a person.

Tack that to when my contact with humans caused immense pain as a ghost and I should have associated touch with negative emotions.

So the first time Kushina forced me to cuddle with her during naptime was both shocking and completely terrifying. But I got over it quickly.

Since I was, by all means, a child again, the feeling of someone holding me—arms surrounding my smaller form like a protective barrier of warmth and love—was downright delightful.

It became addicting.

After that fateful day, I began craving physical closeness. Actively seeking it out in those around me (not Rin or Bakashi—the risk uselessness and depression rubbing off on me was too high) when I felt too many toddler emotions try to overwhelm my tiny body.

Or, like now, if I just felt like it.

Being held by an adult (or Itachi and Obito) was reassuring. Soothing in a way I had never found previously. It consoled me better than that shit of a therapist ever could.

What began as a balm to get through those especially rough days became habitual. I took advantage of my new age and smaller frame wholly. So what if this time it was to get reactions out of someone with a stick up their butt?

The reassuring, steady beat of Fugaku's heart was enough to slowly lull me to sleep. My eyes became heavy without my consent, breaths coming out more evenly.

My hand running through the older Uchiha's hair stopped and fell to the collar of his shirt, grasping the fabric between tiny fingers.

I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I would fuck with him later. Naptime was calling.

Weeks passed.

Mom and I walked back home from the Uchiha household after having a girl's day with Mikoto. It was a nice visit, as all were.

The nights were growing cold; winters clutch pulling us further from fall. Thus, the need to wear my jacket once again became necessary. Which sucked. It wasn't comfortable. Instead, the fabric felt stuffy and constricting.

Maybe it was just my recent thoughts as of late, but I was tired.

Coming into this world, I had never thought much on what I would actually do—in the village, that is. After all, when I had first come here, I was unable to affect anything.

Now that I had a physical body able to touch and interact with things and people around me, I was lost. And, against my better judgement, I had unwittingly grown achingly attached to those around me (sans Rin—I don't think I'd ever like her. That time with the D-Bag Squad was the last straw).

So, the tooting elephant in my mind was; what do I want to do?

Dabble in baking like in my old life? Not likely considering baking ingredients, as I had previously gone over, were rather expensive.

Enjoy the civilian life and allow things to just happen? That would be the easier route. The safest route. I could possibly grow old. Maybe even have family of my own to take care of and find love.

I had to admit, it was a nice thought.

A dangerous thought.

Had I been born in another family—not reborn—that could have actually been a possibility.

The thing about fate, though, was that it was fickle. You never got what you wanted. You scarcely even got what you needed.

Instead of comfort, you are thrown into a strange, unfamiliar terrain and pushed. Kicked. Throttled.

Happiness didn't just hand itself over on a silver platter. It was achieved through hard work and, most of all, pain.

I had had enough pain in life being shoved into my (now) small body to fuel the next few generations.

In this world, there were no shortcuts. Shit, even prodigies had to, at the bare minimum, put in some effort. Being around Itachi introduced me to that new thought.

Everyone, no matter what, had to work. My past experiences lead me to a rather easy decision.

I would fight. I would become strong, just like Akira had wanted to.

I would survive.

Already I had been learning how to fight with Itachi. Might as well see how I took to real training, to take it a bit more seriously. Therefore, I (literally) begged my parents to let me start training. Not to be a ninja, just enough to protect myself.

At one point, I had even gone to my knees.

They seemed happy and looked proud, but there was a glint of sadness residing in their eyes. It crossed their expressions only when they thought I wasn't looking.

Beginning with the smallest of frowns tugging at the corners of their mouths and ending with a long, empty stare into space. (thinking back they probably knew training was my gateway to ninja-hood.)

Generally, I felt as if reality was slowly pressing down on me. (Iamsufocating)

As I toed off my shoes at the entrance, I was excited to see Minato was home. Adorned in Kushina's pink frilly apron with a spatula in hand, he turned to us with a smile like sunshine.

The weight on my shoulders felt heavier.

"There are my two favorite girls! I wasn't sure if you would be eating at the Uchiha's, but I whipped something together anyway."

Mom smiled and leapt at him in a binding hug. "We ate there but I'm still starving. Thank you." She kissed his cheek and walked to the cupboard to begin the task of setting the table, leaving behind a blushing, hazy-eyed Minato.

Man, they were so perfectly in love it was almost sickening. Always sure to show affection in any way they could, be it cooking or joint hands.

I wondered minutely if I would ever find something like that here. And just like that, I opened up my own little mental can of worms.

Was I allowed to fall in love?

My existence alone was nothing short of an abomination. Just the extra amount of air I breathed could be setting some unknown factor into motion, and I would be blind to it up until the point it slit my throat at night.

So, who was to say the person I fell in love with was meant for someone else? If that happened, could I be selfless enough to let them go? To allow the universe to fix itself while I forced myself to stay away?

The answer came to my mind in an immediate, possessive growl:

No.

I had always been selfish. Ultimately, even if I was technically a new person, I didn't plan to try and change who I was. Why should I? Just because I found myself in an impossible situation didn't mean I had to completely alter myself.

If I tried changing to fit in around a bunch of Ninja, it would just come off as a bunch of lies. I couldn't, in good conscious, build a new life—one I had stolen—atop a throne of lies.

I didn't want that, when here, even my parents weren't my parents. They were my bodies parents. After many months of depression, I had long thrown out thoughts of pretending to strictly be Akira.

In a way, I was lucky. Akira, being a toddler, hadn't had the time needed to become her own person. Children were like sponges in their first years of life. It wasn't until later in their development that they created their own sense of 'self'.

Bits of her personality was already crafted after me. It made being her easier, but not perfectly so.

I wasn't really a child, after all.

Yet, for all I knew, I was meant to be here, and Akira was just getting my reincarnated body ready for a mind too overwhelming for a newborn. Who was to say that wasn't how reincarnation worked?

I shook my head. These thoughts really needed to stop. All of the stress couldn't be healthy for my developing body. At this rate, I would never be able to heal and move the fuck on as I so desperately desired.

I am Akira. I belong here.

It was about time I began believing those words instead of emptily saying them to myself.

I plopped down into my seat at the table, heavy in mind and body. Instead of allowing myself the time to get lost in itself AGAIN, I busied myself with watching as Kushina and Minato bantered back and forth.

Ignoring my inner saltiness, I took notice of how calm my parents were around each other. It was comforting. With the war going on, they cherished each and every moment they were able to spend together.

"Papa, mom." The two turned to me with grinning faces. "I… The academy starts soon and wanna join. I want to be a ninja." Their smiles dimmed. Yeah, same. It was the first time I had outright said those words since the accident.

"But Akira… After this war ends, you won't need to become a ninja." Minato stated slowly, eyes shifting to Kushina. I was briefly shocked at the openness of his proclamation. Not many would deter their child's decision to 'protect the village'.

Especially someone who was going to become Hokage. It was… fishy.

Was that what they honestly thought, though? That just because the current war would end, that others wouldn't happen in the future? That everything would be fine and peaceful for the rest of my life?

That as long as they taught me the bare bones of protecting myself, I would be fine? What a terribly naïve way to think.

It wasn't as if I really wanted to become a ninja. Sure, they were cool and could do incredible feats, but… they were nothing more than paid killers.

This world was bizarre with how desensitized its population was to hired murderers. To them, it was normal. But to me, a girl who grew up in a place where death only happened to the unfortunate and murderers were considered evil?

It clashed with my previously shaky belief system of good, evil and justice.

Here, there was no cookie-cutter definition of good or bad. Everyone was just trying to survive. And sometimes, in order to do that, you had to do very bad things. Like take someone's life.

In this world, I refused to be some sitting duck. If it came down to my life and someone else's… I can't believe I'm even thinking this but… I would rather kill than be plucked.

Whether or not I would actually be able to go through with that thought was another issue I would deal with much, much later. Maybe after they brainwashed me in the academy.

I shook my head, readying myself for my usual mixture of truth and lies. "That isn't the reason I want to become a ninja. I want to be strong enough to protect you or any other siblings I will have. What kind of big sister would I be if I couldn't shield him from hardships?"

Papa gave me a stern look, his blue eyes steely, which took me by surprise. I was a daddy's girl through-and-through. Anything I wanted, he made happen.

Guess even he has limits.

"You would be an alive sister." He grit out between clenched teeth, similarly tightened knuckles resting lightly on the table.

Trying my best to brush off the statement, I stood up on my seat and slammed my small hands on the table. Obnoxious as it was, it got their attention. "Is it because I'm a girl? You think I'm too weak to survive as a shinobi?"

"Where is all of this coming from?" Kushina questioned with hands on her hips. Her violet eyes narrowed at my feet on the chair. Her hair was in the beginnings of movement. "You sit in that chair correctly right now before I give you a reason to yell, 'ttebane!"

Where was it coming from? Self-preservation.

I wanted to make sure I was able to protect myself. Civilians in Naruto were considered no more than babies. They died like cattle and weren't able to put up any type of fight. Civ's died with their heads in the clouds and I refused to be one of them.

My mind shifted to the thought of how the two people before me, my parents in this world, and how they would die in a few short years. How I would be left behind.

Truly alone in a big, scary world that wanted nothing more than to chew me up and spit me out as a blind solider.

Hiding amongst sheep wouldn't keep me alive. It would do nothing more than draw the wolves closer.

No. I was willing to sacrifice whatever it took to make sure I was the wolf.

But could I tell them that? Hell no. I needed a different approach. I'd have to pull some heartstrings in order to get my way.

I sat down with slow, measured movements. "The only way I could ever be truly happy and feel safe is to become strong and brave. Like you guys. Being a civilian won't help me with that. I want—no, I need—to be able to protect my home." Settling more into my seat, I placed my chin on the table.

The silence was deafening, but I refused to look up. It would defeat the purpose. I needed to look serious. Be the mature daughter they thought I was becoming.

"…Is this really what you want?" the words were mumbled from Kushina.

Gottcha.

My eyes closed. I tried to keep the smirk from my lips but it was so hard that I instead made it seem more serene. To make it look as if there was no doubt in my mind that being a ninja was everything to me.

In a way, it was true.

"I want to protect the village and those I hold dear." I opened my eyes, meeting theirs with renewed determination, "I want to make you proud."

The rest of the night was spent in hugs and celebration. Turned out, Minato and Kushina just wanted to be positive I wasn't trying to become a ninja for the 'wrong reasons'.

Typical ninja shit, I thought. They wanted me to become a ninja with the Will of Fire already instilled in me.

Part of me was furious about being lead on. But who was I to judge?

Kushina was all smiles again, telling me how we would go look for proper equipment over the weekend. This included my own kunai, bandages and training clothes.

What I had left unsaid hung in my mind like spider-webs, allowing it to haunt my already terrible nightmares.

Not that you'll be alive to see it.

END

Holy shit this is a terribly written chapter. Just wasn't feeling it tbh.

I hate long author notes but... Meh. There are some things I need to clear up. And I love communicating with my readers (the whole, like, 4 of you).

Kira is NOT going to be a one-romantic-interest character. Those never seem to make sense to me. Normal people go through a ton of disappointments before they settle down with their boo. So, yes, I have her romantic partners chosen (only 2 [3?] are real characters) and the end pair is already decided.

Next thing I would like to make a statement about is that this story IS rated M for a reason. It's going to get dark pretty fast after the next maybe two chapters? There will be mentions of underage sex, (technically?) prostitution, old geezer taking advantage of a situation, gore, depression, mental instability and molestation. Death stuff will be descriptive. *shrug*

Follow to get notified when I update and PLEASE review. If you do, I'll add in my fav idea of yours into this story.

Next chapter will be soon.