The actual reality of my situation took mere moments to hit me. Though at first, I was only mildly surprised at waking up in a room that I didn't recognize as my own.

'Must have gotten lucky.'

And though it might seem shallow, the first thing I noticed was the length of my hair and my pale skin tone. Confusion overtook me; I flexed my fingers in front of my face. Then crushing despair. "I'm not... Who... am I?"

Eventually, I was able to piece together some rather disorienting ideas and memories and found that not all of them were my own. I rise with a start, backing into a wall. It seems my disembodied spirit has gone and hijacked some poor random girl's body. "How did this happen? Why am I a girl!?" I pound my fist into the wall next to my window. "No. I am a man." I am a man.

I stare at the faint cracks in the wall. "This is the weirdest fucking dream." I glance at my bloodied fist. The faint sting of a full force punch almost immediately puts down the theory of "weirdest dream ever"; it places it solidly into the camp of "random and vivid hallucinations."

Existential crises aside, my body felt strong, like, super strong. Dare I say, I am now stronger as a little girl. I had a lithe form that didn't skimp on flexibility. I found myself giggling while showing off my new physical prowess to myself. God, my voice was high. My voice didn't sound necessarily ear splitting nor shrill but it wasn't the low timbre of a bass that I was accustomed.

I sought out a mirror in my small apartment, of which only the very necessities were strewn about in organized piles. I found clothes, a brush, papers, some oddly shaped knives, needles that were longer and thicker than feasible for sewing... Ah, there it is.

I pulled the mirror out of the box set aside to the corner of the room, off to the side of the bed underneath the window. I braced myself. From what I learned, people who are transgender have a tendency to dissociate. I had to remember however I looked, however, I sounded: I am a man. Nothing essential changes except for a complete second chromosome. When I look at my face I balk.

A not... unpretty... face stares back at me. My coal eyes have a severe look to them. Ultra long calf-length stalk straight hair, dark and rough. My face is rounded to a slight point in my chin. I look to be pubescent. I feel my, er, chest area and give it a slight squeeze and want to vomit almost immediately. I know for a fact that many guys would kill to be in a girls body for a day but I was never interested in women. The fact that I am currently possessing the body of a young girl drives me to the bathroom. I swiftly empty my stomach of bile.

-xxx-

It's around four hours before I have the mental bearings to even consider leaving my apartment to gather information about where and who I am. This girl doesn't even have a school ID so fishing for information would have to be the only way to go. I dress myself into what seems to be slated as her everyday outfit, as it is the most numerous of her clothes. The outfit consists of an olive green vest that seems to double as a sort of sports bra, a grey camo skirt over grey camo pants, some weird toeless shoes, a camo print scarf that I decide would look best draped across my waist, and a weird cloth belt thing with an eighth-note on it that I just decide to tie around my neck as it wouldn't fit around my waist even without the scarf.

Ready to face a new life, I pray for something that I see or someone that I meet will jog the memories of Mystery Girl so that I can put on a convincing act. It seems to be that I don't have any family around, judging by the lack of pictures... or any other personal effects to speak of. So at least I can draw solace from the fact that I won't have to convince myself to love some strangers. As soon as I walk out the door I am assaulted by a weird mummy kid that holds my arms behind me in a sort of pin. Another boy with crazy hair ambles up and it takes a couple of repeating questions that I realize I understand the foreign language he is speaking... something Asian... Korean? Japanese?

"Where the fuck were you? Sensei was so pissed that you never showed up for our team meeting that he promised that we are going to get triple the amount of conditioning training tomorrow. What's your deal, hm?" He has a sneer on his face and it annoys me for some reason.

Despite my adult reasoning and emotional control I can't quash the irritation this stupid kid is beginning to infect me with. I spit right at his face. "Whatever, I threw up all this morning so it's not like I could have done a whole lot about it."

"Ah, now Kin we told you to always take a morning-after pill. Now you have to deal with an unwelcome guest." Mummy boy gets off me and snickers at me. I shoot him a glare, which makes him snicker more.

"Ugh, you guys are the worst. I feel better now, so what's going on?" My attempt at fishing feels flaccid and out of character but I need information.

First things first, I am apparently named Kin. Unknown age, unknown personality, unknown nationality... what do they mean by 'team meeting' or 'Sensei'? Normally kids this age would be in high school, right? Probably a sports team...

But there is something about these two that niggles the back of my mind, which is strange. Perhaps the latent and scattered memories of this 'Kin' girl are jumbling my thoughts more than I think. But something feels off about this whole situation. Well, besides possessing the body of a teenage girl.

Crazy hair is waving his hand in front of my face. "-eeeyy? Earth to Kin? Dosu, do you think you gave her a concussion or something? You didn't use your Melody Arm on her right? That'd be so fucked up."

He shrugs at Zaku's statement. "I don't know Zaku, she seems fine to me. Empty headed as usu-."

I can't hold back bristling at that. Apparently, this girl is impulsive with her words because I am finding tremendous difficulty from shooting back a response. "Yeah, whatever, you walking social disaster. At least I don't have the personality of a forgotten corpse." I flip around and cover my face with my hands. 'What the hell Kin. Who talks to their friends like this?'

Dosu snorts. "Not your best comeback. Next time don't blush like an academy student and I might actually be offended. Now come on, we have a mission to take care of."

"Uh. Sure. Lead the way." I stare at the ground as I follow them down the almost deserted street. I can see Zaku, I think, giving me strange looks as we continue on but he doesn't say anything. Thank the Lord.

-xxx-

"You know Kin. There are certain expectations for a Genin, even when you're unwell. Next time let your teammates know that you aren't even showing up to train." A man, who I guess is our 'Sensei', taps his foot in a gesture that conveys his displeasure. He snaps out "Got it?" at me after a few moments of silence.

"Yes, Sensei. Of course, Sensei, it won't happen again." Involuntarily I bow to him at a ninety-degree angle, which feels both off and correct to me. The feeling of being someone completely different disorients me. Though... I can barely keep my own name straight. I guess it's a good thing that these responses are so well drilled into this body.

He manages a sigh. "Well, it can't be helped. Anyway, you all have a D-rank mission today. You're to clean up lab 25 in sector 9. Remember to be careful with the equipment everyone." He tosses a scroll to mummy boy. Dosu.

Dosu slides open the scroll and gives a small hum of understanding. Zaku looks painfully bored. The feeling of being out of place overtakes me again. So I can't help myself from rubbing my right arm with my left hand. 'Just have to get through the day' I remind myself. 'Then I can spend all the time I need figuring out these weird feelings and memories.'

"Zaku, Kin. Let's go. We wasted enough of Sensei's time today." Dosu rolls the scroll up in a single impressive motion and stalks off. 'He looks a bit like a hunchback...'

-xxx-

"What the hell." I reflexively cover my mouth and nose from the scent, taste, of death, blood, feces, and bile. "This is disgusting."

Zaku gives me an amused look, as though this is an everyday occurrence. How fucked up. "Come on Kin, I know your feminine sensibilities are strong but this isn't any worse than the last few times. You're acting like this is our first D-rank again."

Dosu sighs a long suffering sigh. "Lay off of her, Zaku. Kin, start by scrubbing the operating tables. Zaku, you get the floors. I'll do the glassware. Kami-sama knows neither of you are careful enough to work with glass."

"Ugh, fine. You're a real sick fuck you know that?" I can't help but agree since there are rather large messes all over the place. He grabs a mop and bucket and wets his mop. He's diligent in starting his work.

I scan the room. 'Keep breathing through your mouth.' I spy a few rags and buckets in one corner and avoid the nastiest of the piles of (hopefully not human) biohazard. 'I ought to invest in a gas mask if she does this regularly.' I begin wetting the first of the tables with one of the rags, pushing the thick slimes into a corner of the table.

"How many more D-ranks do you think we gotta do Kin?" Zaku eyes me sidelong, his face pretty much blank.

"How would I know?" It's not like I'm working off much information here.

"Were you not the one who stayed behind the other day requesting a higher ranked mission?" Dosu is very relaxed while wiping down the glass in spite of the horrible, horrible little things in those tubes.

"Ah, I guess I did. Must have slipped my mind. Sorry." I turn back to my table and empty the slimy substance into an empty bucket. I begin to disinfect with bleach. "Going to need something stronger than bleach if we care about infection."

Dosu chortles at that comment. "Well, it is a good thing we don't care, right?"

"Hm." I'm non-committal in my answer. It's not really wise to put myself into strong opinions right away. I bend down to place the heavy bucket stuffed with "medical" waste on the floor; I see a hand sticking out underneath the table I'm cleaning. I instantly still. 'That seriously isn't a dead body, right?'

Morbid fascination wins out over confused fear. I lean over to touch the wrist of the arm. The arm shoots out and grabs my arm, wrenching it down roughly to the floor. I lose my balance and topple over to see a horrific sight.

The body is mangled and bleeding purple sludge from every orifice. The spine of the creature that was once human is arched so far out of place that it gives the appearance of a compound fracture. The other arm shoots out at an entirely unexpected angle and grabs my neck.

'This can't be right. I've only been here for a few hours. No. No!'

"Stop!! Get away! Die!" It shoves its foot into my mouth. On autopilot, I grab one of those knives that Kin seems to have far too many from my pocket bag. I drive it into the beast's face, stabbing over and over again. All the while I can't help from screaming, the stabbing isn't doing anything! If anything it seems to make the creature gleeful.

Something inside me breaks.

I give out a primal scream at the surety of death. I continue stabbing, ever more frantic. The monster starts to bulge out and purple oozes in greater and greater quantity. The beast gurgles and sputters unintelligible noises but I don't stop shrieking and stabbing. For a few more seconds, which felt like hours to my adrenaline addled brain, I stab relentlessly until the thing bulges to the point that it explodes. Guts shower the floor in a pattern like modern art. I curl into a ball and sob into myself.

"Kin! Kin!" Zaku apparently abandoned his work to hold me. I'm past the point of decorum at this point. I want to feel safe. I need to be safe.

"What was that?" Dosu appeared in near the same time that Zaku did and inspected the place of my battle. "What did you do to it?" His owlish look gives the impression of fright.

"I- I- I- screamed." At this point, I'm glad I'm alive. What is wrong with this place!?

Zaku looks to Dosu. Both were clearly at a loss of how to handle this situation. Kids shouldn't have to deal with this stuff. No one should have to witness these things. I start to rock myself.

"... Zaku, take Kin outside. Give her some fresh air. I'm sure we can finish this up in time."

Zaku nods minutely and places his arm under my shoulder, he was hefting me up. I can't help but follow along. I need more than fresh air, I need a Valium or something.

Outside the lab, Zaku helps me onto a bench. For a few moments, I stare at him while he stares back. He turns to go but I panic.

"Wait!" I catch his hand. "Please, just. For a minute or two. I don't want to be alone yet. Please." By the end of my pleadings, I'm whining. I don't care at this point. He turns his head around to look at me with pity in his eyes. He sits next to me far too casually.

"So what was that back there?" He thankfully isn't looking at me, instead staring straight up into the sky.

'The sky is the same shade of blue...'

"I don't know. I was scared, I tried to stab it to death. That didn't work so I was even more terrified. I screamed. I stabbed harder." I look down at myself for the first time. I grimace at being covered in that slimy purple mucus.

For around a minute we sit there. My heart rate still races faster than normal but it isn't at the level of "oh God I'm about to die" adrenaline.

"It was probably just a fluke anyway." I cast my glance towards the door of the lab. What goes on in there?

Zaku gets up and walks to the door. "Yeah, you're probably right." He disappears into the depths of fear without another word.

-xxx-

After completing the disgusting (terrifying) task we walk down the eerily familiar streets. Eventually, I spy my apartment block. "Well, thanks for having fun with me guys but I'm going to go take a shower. See you tomorrow Dosu, Zaku." I bow at a slight angle politely and turn on my heel. I can sense Dosu and Zaku exchange a look behind me.

"We'll pick you up tomorrow morning. We don't want you to flake out again." Zaku supplies. I don't bother with a response and wave back at them while I disappear out of their view up my apartment's stairs.

I open up my door and close it in almost the same motion. I crumple to the ground and pull up my knees to my chest. 'Why is this place so horrible?'

Obviously, I am in some nightmarish Nazi alternate universe where children are raised to clean up after mad scientists. But that doesn't explain much at all, really. I pick at my makeshift necklace-belt thing. They have the same symbol as well, Zaku and Dosu and Sensei. Some kind of uniform, perhaps? But there isn't really a dress code besides the similar colors our outfits consist of. Grey on grey and tan on grey aren't particularly fashionable.

"I need to write down my thoughts." It's a habit of mine, though a proven psychological method of organizing thoughts. I get up and begin my search for the desperately necessary paper and pen. I find some blank scrolls, a few brushes, and three inkwells so I huff. 'I can't use these to paint, let alone write.' Resigned, 'well perhaps I'll just use them to jot down the bullet points. I'll find something more suited to my tastes tomorrow or something.'

Firstly, what do I know about myself? I still.

"I'm dead aren't I?" In abject horror, I recall the most recent memories of my previous life.

Nothing out of the ordinary. I was fixing a toaster...

Electrocution. Damn it. Why did I have to have that stupid 'handyman' persona that I would flaunt to my friends and on a few dates (to varying degrees of success...). To be honest I was skilled at repairing the basic plumbing and cabinetry of my clueless compatriots. I thought that all I would need is an internet guide to toaster repair but of course, I obviously skipped the Most. Important. Step.

I grumble to myself. I jot down a single word, death. It's too painful to consider the circumstances of my previous existence. If this is Hell then I consider this punishment a mere slap on the wrist.

Secondly, what do I know about who I am now?

Female. Kin, surname unknown. The brush is awkward to maneuver and it splotches in random dribbles around the words, which ticks me off. Whatever. She seems to have a sort of janitorial job with three other teenagers, with a supervisor that goes by "Sensei". Janitor school? not that being a janitor is a bad job, but isn't it kind of a train for a day or two and then left to your own devices sort of deal? The other two seemed to imply daily meetings, what further training would a custodian need than "use this mop and this soap for this"?

I pause for a few moments. Considering what other concrete information about Janitor Girl I know. Needles and knives? Other than knowing I have them, nothing seems to spring to mind about them.

Dosu, surname unknown. I bullet a point below that name. Male, leadership role. I pause. Weird fashion taste. I fail to grasp the exact term I'd use to describe the distant respect and friendliness he showed me today, mixed with barbs. Close acquaintance, coworker I decide to box him into that role for now. I can always reevaluate later.

Zaku, surname unknown. I tap the end of the brush against my cheek. Male, prickly. As I look back to our interactions and his responses to me I decide to add suspicious. He clearly was wary of Kin's, er... my, sudden change in demeanor. Hopefully either I figure out how she acts quickly or I'll have to pin it on the nebulous excuse of "puberty" or "hormonal mood swings". That thought causes my lip to furrow into disgust. 'She's a person and I'm already thinking of how to steal her life away from her like I'm some alien.'

"But I am..." I drop the brush from my hand and it splotches oh so tastefully on the paper like a mini Rorschach. What was my near immediate reaction to stealing a girl's body from her? I did some gymnastics then vomited because I wasn't in a body I was comfortable in. Not really still comfortable in; but the existential crisis of being a body snatcher takes precedent here.

"Are you still alive in there, Kin?"

Nothingness greets my question.

"Mnph." I intelligently answer my own question. "I have to keep writing, I'm Kin for now. Maybe I'll be exorcised later, or maybe this is what Hell is supposed to be like."

I pick up my ink drooling brush.

Thirdly. With what I know, what do I want and how can I get there with what I have?

Gasmask. The brush almost writes of its own accord but I chuckle to myself. If I am expected to step into own of those rooms again, and judging by the reactions of everyone as though cleaning feces, blood, and bile as though it were mundane as doing the laundry; I probably would have to.

Find out everything.

That's a bit on the vague side. Bullet one, where am I? What country on Earth has this happening, and if not on 'Earth' per se, what is the sociopolitical situation. Who runs this place? The kind of person that rules over labs out of literal horror movies is not the kind of person I'd cross. Knowing who to please would be of paramount importance in keeping me alive, for the second time at least. Then a distant tingling hope blooms within my heart, though the words used to describe such a hope is tragic. How do I escape?

'Maybe I can jump reality and go back.'

Go all the way back; to before those fateful moments of blissful stupidity. Chalk it up to a particularly vivid and uncomfortable hallucination.

I stare at the messily filled page. I sigh. I put the brush back into its case and cap the bottle of ink. 'I don't think writing about it told me all that much. At least my thoughts are more ordered now.' I spy the sun outside my window. 'It should be around 8 o'clock.' I rise to my feet and consider my options, 'if I take a shower I'll just be confronted with what I am.'

Though I haven't eaten much more than rice today, I don't particularly feel like throwing up for hours again. I glance at the mirror discarded in the corner of the room near the chest.

'Let's not think about it for now.'

Instead, I opt to wash off the gunk in my hair in my kitchen sink. I scrub my thin arms and soft face until my skin feels raw. 'It'll be better than nothing.' Finally, I begin a ritual rote in both memory and body. I peel off my clothes and put on the beige sleeping shirt and loose black pants I "awoke" in. Settling in for sleep in the cot set up under the window; I drift soundlessly and thoughtlessly into sleep.

-xxx-

A/N: Don't expect this OC to actually know of Naruto. Hopefully this fanfic turns out well, it's my first one. Give me constructive feedback please... though just reading up to this point me makes happy, so thanks!