「システムが目覚める... ようこそ、ユーザー002!」
A large, semi-transparent blue screen was superimposed over her vision; just barely, she could see the ceiling tiles behind it. For some reason, she was laying on her back in an uncomfortable bed. Was she in a hospital?
The inside of her mouth tasted sour, and her eyes stung in the cold, dry air—but hallucinating a computer popup window had to take priority over a drink of water.
She waited for her head to stop feeling fuzzy before asking, dumbly, "… Huh?"
「 英語は検出された!」
「言語設定を 「 英語 」 に更新しますか?Y/N ? 」
"I can't read Japanese, sorry..."
Who even cared about that right now? Focus, idiot.
"How am I alive though?"
「 Language preferences saved. 」
「 Welcome, User 002! System is currently operating under the guidelines of Protocol: How Many Lives Does Truck-kun Have To Claim Before These Characters Get Depth?! Be aware that this system is in the Beta testing phase and is constantly updating and developing to satisfy the needs of the consumer. Host, your feedback would be greatly appreciated! 」
"Oh… Okay."
She tried to process that information. Failed. Picked something manageable to address.
"Wait, truck-kun?"
「 Explaining: Truck-kun is a parody term popularised online that refers to a common trope used in the isekai genre of anime, manga, and light novels, in which characters (usually upon dying) are transported to other worlds. 」
Some clarity dawned upon her, although, honestly, not a lot of it. "I'm not really into anime that much," She explained to the computerised voice in her head. "I watched, uh, Sailor Moon and Vampire Knight growing up (because it would play on TV, not because I put it on) and the only manga I've ever read is Fruits Basket. I didn't finish it. It's not that it wasn't interesting, it just wasn't my thing, you know?"
「 Understood! Then, would Host like to activate: Tutorial mode? 」
"Yeah, sure, go ahead," She wasn't completely ignorant as to not know what a tutorial mode was, or understand that it would be extremely helpful to her right now. Assuming that this whole thing wasn't an elaborate psychotic break, that was. "So. I'm not dead?"
「 As Host presently exists in an isekai story, your status is currently: Confused, But Alive. 」
"But I did die, right?"
「 Checking Host memories… 」
「 This system can confirm that Host died prior to her reincarnation into this world. Would you like to watch exclusive, uncut footage of your demise in your original world? 」
… No way.
"Don't worry about it." She remembered more than enough. "So, I guess I'm alive now. And you say this is an isekai genre? What does that mean?"
「 Explaining: isekai, also known as transmigration, is a genre that revolves around the story of a displaced person (or people) who are transported to and have to survive in another world, such as a fantasy world, game world, or parallel universe. Recently popularised in fanfiction, the genre has evolved with expectations for the displaced person or people to change the original plot to the fantasy story they have been transported into. 」
"No, yeah, I got that part when you explained it earlier, along with the truck thing. I meant more along the lines of like, what do I have to do? I don't even know what fantasy world this is supposed to be. I told you, I'm not really interested in anime."
「 This is the world of Naruto! Set in the fantasy lands of the Elemental Nations, humans (and some select animals) are able to access their lifeforce, known as 'chakra', and channel it in ways that grant them superhuman abilities. The story follows the life of Uzumaki Naruto, a young shinobi that seeks recognition from his peers and dreams of becoming Hokage of the Konohagakure. 」
So many questions, so little time…
「 Host is currently in the role of: Uchiha Mikoto. Would Host like to see an info data sheet on her role? 」
"Yes, please."
「 Coming right up! 」
「 Name: Uchiha Mikoto
Age: 18
Rank: Jonin (under evaluation)
Status: Alive
Physical: 3/6 Stars
Mental: 2/6 Stars
Spiritual: 3/6 Stars
Plot relevance: 2/6 Stars
Skills: Sharingan, Shuriken Jutsu, Fire Release, Lightning Release.
Uchiha Mikoto is a jonin from the Konohagakure's noble Uchiha Clan. 」
To have a section to measure plot relevance… "Is that really necessary?"
「 As Host has never watched or read Naruto! This system thought it would assist Host's efforts moving forward. 」
Yeah, alright. She had to concede there.
Two stars out of six. That had to mean she was a named character, right? Though that must have been all it entailed. Whatever the original goods had gotten up to in the story obviously didn't matter much in the larger scheme of things. Knowing that took the pressure off, but she still couldn't quite relax.
Didn't the system say the point of this genre was for the isekai'd person to influence the plot? How was she—Mikoto, now, maybe she should get used to it—supposed to manage that with a presence that was barely more influential than a NPC bookseller?
What the hell was the plot to this story? Naruto becoming Hokage? What was a Hokage?
「 Host can now access: Glossary! 」
Oh, nice.
So it was the ninja president. Didn't that mean all she had to do was help this Naruto person with his election campaign? How did these ninja elect a president anyway?
Well, that would be the first step she would need to figure out. Unless "changing the plot" meant she was supposed to stop him from becoming president.
「 … 」
「 Would Host like a hint? 」
Host would really like a hint, yeah.
「 Currently, Role: Uchiha Mikoto's objectives are as below:
- Stay alive until Uzumaki Naruto is born.
- Save the Uchiha Clan.
Failure is not an option! Is this helpful? 」
He wasn't even born? How long was that going to take? System, was there a function that let Mikoto know what part of the timeline she was in?
「 No! 」
Shouldn't tutorial mode have something like that then?
「 Your feedback has been submitted. 」
Okay, sure—and that second objective is far too scary, what the hell? Save the Uchiha Clan? She was going to pass out.
Was she really not allowed to pop into another fantasy world, like Vampire Knight? It'd suck to repeat high school, sure, but considering everything else going on, maybe it wouldn't be as bad as last time… System?
Hello?
Ugh. Thanks for nothing.
「 If this humble system could offer some advice? 」
YES.
「 Role: Uchiha Mikoto should do her best to create a happy home where family and friends alike can come together to relax. 」
… Did she just get housewifed by the system?
"But I—"
「 Tutorial mode is about to expire! In consideration to Host's inexperience, this setting will automatically set the difficulty to: Easy. In Easy Mode, the Host will be able to access functions for: character sheets, glossary, inventory, objective tracker. Of course, this system will remain available 24/7 for all your customer service needs! Happy character building, Host! 」
Oh dear god.
「 Unpausing in 3… 2… 」
She was doomed.
「 1… 」
The transparent blue screen flickered into nothing. All at once, sound—which Mikoto had not noticed was absent—filtered back into her reality. The quiet hum of lights, the beeping of a heart monitor, footsteps going up and down the halls, even the muffled far-away conversations spilling in from her open window.
And right next to her bedside, the sound of someone shushing a fussy baby.
Mikoto clenched her eyes shut. What had the system said about a happy home for her family…? It couldn't mean what she was beginning to suspect, surely?
Someone gasped. It seemed her return to the waking world had not gone unnoticed. "Mikoto," A man said, in a pretty composed tone considering what she suspected about her current state. "Mikoto? Can you hear me?"
What else was there to do? Mikoto hummed, the sound patchy and rough coming from her parched throat. She couldn't even open her mouth to speak.
Movement. Mikoto's bed was mechanically raised using a remote. She hesitated in opening her eyes out of fear that it would make her migraine worse, and sat like a statue while the man at her bedside shifted the pillows to support her back. He moved away briefly, then returned to press the lip of a hard plastic cup to her mouth. "Drink," He urged her.
His coaching tone didn't leave much room for protest. Mikoto wet her mouth with small sips of the lukewarm water. As she drank, some of the pain in her skull lessened. With his assistance Mikoto finished two tiny cups of water.
As soon as the throbbing behind her eyes subsisted, she knew there was nothing left she could do to procrastinate what was ahead of her.
Mikoto blinked her eyes open. She was in a standard hospital room. It must have been around lunch time, because the sun was beaming in through the windows and reflecting irritatingly off the white surfaces. She flinched and ducked her head, staring at the less offensively bright blue sheets on her lap until she'd adjusted better.
"I can't believe you're awake."
Mikoto finally faced him.
He was tall, dark and square, sitting rigidly straight in his chair with a baby sitting on his knee. He was not smiling or tearing up, but Mikoto thought she caught a deep exhale, as if in relief, when she managed to make eye contact with him. "It was a close call," The man rumbled. The baby in his lap flung their arms forward. He looked down at the top of its dark head and huffed. "Alright, I get it. Just a little longer."
System?
「 Yes, Host? 」
Is this what I think it is?
「 Reminding Host that she can access character sheets to discover more about the world around her! 」
Nausea swirled in her gut. But she had to know for sure.
Show me.
「 Name: Uchiha Fugaku
Age: 21
Rank: Leader of the Konoha Military Police Force
Status: Alive
Physical: 3/6 Stars
Mental: 4/6 Stars
Spiritual: 2/6 Stars
Plot relevance: 3/6 Stars
Mikoto's husband. Secret kuudere. He is the leader of the village's military police force, as well as the Uchiha Clan Head. 」
Head of the clan? So Mikoto wasn't just a random housewife—she was a housewife to the leader of the Uchiha Clan? Didn't that make her semi-important, if not to plot, then at least politically? She knew nothing about etiquette. How was she supposed to play that off in fancy settings?
She couldn't really process the 'husband' tag right now.
In her original world, she died single. She'd dated before, but never anything serious enough to compare to a marriage. It hadn't crossed her mind once. And now she woke up in a fantasy world already in possession of a husband? With all that came with that relationship?
No. Nope.
What about the kid?
「 Name: Uchiha Itachi
Age: Newborn
Rank: N/A
Status: Alive
Physical: 1/6 Stars
Mental: 1/6 Stars
Spiritual: 2/6 Stars
Plot relevance: 6/6 Stars
Mikoto's first son. He has recently learned how to sit up, although he still requires support. 」
Her eyes nearly rolled back. Six stars?! This baby had a six star relevancy to the plot?! Was he supposed to be Naruto's rival for the ninja presidency or something? What if Mikoto had to sabotage his chances to ensure Naruto won? No, no, she was putting the cart ahead of the horse. He didn't even know how to sit up by himself, he wasn't a threat to anyone's campaign. Ahhh, focus, focus!
Fugaku bounced his leg to briefly entertain the baby. He tilted his head at Mikoto. "I know you just woke up, but he missed you. Are you strong enough to hold him? I'll be here just in case."
He made it a question, but his son was getting restless to the point where it looked like he was going to throw himself onto the floor. Mikoto freed her arms from the tightly tucked-in sheets and laid them limply in her lap. Assuming she was just tired and not completely ignorant as to how to position her arms, Fugaku wordlessly adjusted her until she was ready to accept the baby-package.
Itachi made happy noises as he was plopped into her lap. She held him by his pudgy waist as he snatched at her hair and her hospital gown, staring at his round face quietly. Beautiful, feathery eyelashes, dark brown eyes, a bit of an inkling of what would one day be frightful poker face. He looked a lot like his father. Until he started smiling; his wide, gummy mouth, dribbling spit over his own clothes, transformed his features into a uniquely individual face.
"Hi," Mikoto said. Itachi's answering wail nearly sounded distressed, but he was still smiling, so it must have been a happy noise.
"Mikoto…" Fugaku started, "What happened?"
She didn't reply. She had no idea herself.
"You promised that you would be careful."
More silence.
Ah, system, I don't suppose you have dialogue options in Easy Mode?
「 This system believes in the beauty of an organic conversation! So, no! 」
She was too unlucky.
"I know it isn't fair to bring this up as soon as you've woken up. But you have no idea how hard these past few days have been, thinking you might be dead, that… after our conversation… you might have decided to…"
"Decided to?" Mikoto repeated, her interest piqued. Did this husband and wife duo get into an argument before she departed somewhere? Were they on the outs? That would be helpful. If their normal dynamic was unsettled, then perhaps Mikoto stood a chance after all.
Fugaku's face gained pronounced scowl lines. "It was a breach of our betrothal contract for you to resume work in the first place. I know we discussed that it might help your mental state if you had something to do outside the house, but this—this isn't a risk you can take. Not anymore."
Did he say betrothal contract?
"Itachi needs you," Fugaku continued. "I think you, of all people, understand that a child needs their mother. You're being suspended."
"You're suspending me?"
He could do that?! Massive red flag!
"The Hokage is suspending you," He corrected. "He decided that your injury was a result of negligence on your part. That you were distracted by wanting to go home. You can be reinstated after an evaluation, but the Hokage won't see you until Itachi is at least two years old."
Wasn't that… incredibly sexist?
Not that this didn't suit Mikoto just fine. She checked the glossary for shinobi already, as far as she could tell they were just glorified mercenaries, the military arm controlled by their ninja president. She wasn't ready to kill on command and didn't have the first idea how to manipulate this chakra stuff of hers. Getting some time to come to terms with both of those things was nothing more than an advantage.
But still— We've determined that you nearly died because you missed your baby too much, so no more working for you, mom!
Kind of a large assumption, no? Unless everyone was right, and Mikoto was getting defensive for no reason. But Fugaku mentioned that working was against Mikoto's contract. There was no way to misread that as anything other than 'messed up'. Was she in the wrong here?
She was missing too much context. And it went against her desires to protest, so there was no point being contentious anyway…
"Okay," She said, in such a calm tone that Fugaku eyeballed her in blatant suspicion.
"Okay?"
"Um, yeah. Okay."
Fugaku narrowed his eyes. "You're not going to argue?"
"...No."
Should she have, after all?
"Itachi, be gentle," Fugaku suddenly reached out for the baby in her lap. He had a good handful of her loose hair and was yanking at it. It hurt, but her whole head hurt. And he was a baby. She had been quietly tolerating it the whole time.
Fugaku untangled her hair from Itachi's pudgy fist with an increasingly perplexed frown. Mikoto had a bad feeling.
"It wasn't bothering you?" He asked.
"It wasn't that uncomfortable."
"You always find it uncomfortable when he does that."
"Every inch of my skull is in pain right now," She tried to defend, but Fugaku shut down that avenue swiftly.
"That's even more reason not to tolerate it," He said directly. He fished around in his pocket and took out a small wooden toy, which was given to Itachi to distract him. For Mikoto, there was no escape. "You…" Fugaku stared at her quizzically. "I'm going to get a doctor. Can you watch him while I'm gone?"
"Of course."
That gung-ho response made Fugaku frown even more. He left the room with some urgency to his movements. In bed, Mikoto was beginning to formulate some strange little suspicions of her own, but they were formless, nameless things. What she could identify with confidence was that Fugaku and Mikoto were definitely not a love-match, and in fact, might not be friendly at all, judging by the lecture she received upon waking up.
Itachi gurgled. Mikoto looked at him. He stared balefully up at her, his toy—and indeed, his entire fist—shoved into his mouth. He was cute. Had a slightly puggish nose, but he would probably grow out of that. Unless he'd gotten it from Mikoto. She should find a mirror to check that out soon.
Another glob of spit ran down his arm and dripped onto her bedsheets. "Gross," Mikoto told him, as if he could care. He was just a baby.
Her baby.
No. It wasn't fair to claim him. She wasn't his mother.
"Your mom is dead," Mikoto said. Itachi blinked his big doe eyes at her. "It's just me now."
Itachi's cheeks scrunched up with a smile.
"Trust me, it's nothing to be pleased about."
But he couldn't know any better. He just knew that his mother's face was in front of him after a mysterious period of time of it not being around, and he was happy to see that familiar shape again, be comforted by that one-of-a-kind scent.
Fugaku returned with a tall, handsome person of indeterminate gender. They had long, silky black hair tied into a high ponytail, and sharp phoenix eyes adorned with a bold purple eyeliner. "I brought sensei," Fugaku explained, gesturing to the doctor at his side. "He's been sticking around waiting for you to wake up, it turns out."
"How could I let anyone else examine our dear Mikoto-chan," Sensei's voice, too, was quite pleasing to the ear. He claimed the seat Fugaku had previously set up camp in. "Especially after all the effort I went through to patch you up. On that note, have you had the chance to look at yourself?"
"Not yet."
"I'll warn you, bringing you back from the dead was not pretty. The incident certainly left its mark." Sensei said, before doing some fast, strange signs with his fingers. There was a ripple in the air, like condensation gathering. Mikoto watched in awe as the moisture in the atmosphere independently shaped itself into a thin sheet before solidifying into ice. Just like that, he'd created a mirror out of literal thin air. It hovered in front of Mikoto's face, allowing her the chance to see her appearance for the first time.
'Not pretty' turned out to be an insulting understatement. There was a large, red-raw injury on Mikoto's face that went from the left side of her forehead and finished at the right side of her chin, cutting a sharp path through eyebrow and nose, only narrowly missing the eye. Half of her hair had been shaved, and her scalp was patched over with numerous, clean stitches.
Underneath the wound was a face that would have been considered beautiful once upon a time, but it was a thought beyond current reckoning. The hair that remained was long, midnight black, and crunchy with neglect. Her eyes were flat, lifeless voids. Against all odds, her nose retained much of its original regal shape—in fact, her facial structure had been repaired surprisingly well, considering that it looked like it was split in half. Still, there was only one conclusion that anyone with sense could come to.
"...I'm ugly," The words came out of her mouth without permission.
"You're alive," Sensei said, dispersing the mirror with a wave of his hands. "Try not to bowl me over with the depths of your gratitude, Mikoto-chan. It tooks ten hours of surgery to glue back together your skull. I must have regrown half of your brain from scratch. Quite risky work, you know. I've never done it before."
"An experimental technique?" Fugaku's eyes widened. "Sensei, was that necessary?"
"I could have done nothing, and left you a widow to raise your son alone," Sensei's tone was dry.
Fugaku hurriedly dipped his head into a bow. "I'm grateful for your efforts, sensei. Thank you."
Sensei tossed his ponytail over his shoulder. "Yes, well, maybe we shouldn't count our chickens before they've hatched. Mikoto-chan, you are being uncharacteristically quiet over there. Usually you've made at least one disparaging comment by now. Are you in that much pain?"
Mikoto shook her head. "It's surprisingly manageable."
"Is it your new formula?" Fugaku asked the doctor.
Sensei nodded. "It's still quite addictive, however, so I'll be lowering the dosage soon. Let's do a cognitive test. I don't much like the way you're staring at me, Mikoto-chan."
"How am I staring at you?"
Sensei tilted his head. "Like I'm a fascinating creature you've never met before."
Mikoto did not reply.
Sensei leaned forward to tickle Itachi's belly. "So," He said, with an absent-minded kind of amusement, "I have a feeling I've jinxed something. Fugaku-kun. Have you noticed anything amiss with your wife since she woke up?" Fugaku glanced at her. Sensei hummed encouragingly. "Well? How is her personality? I notice she is holding Itachi like he's a sack of potatoes."
"That isn't… unusual," Fugaku defended quietly, with another wary glance at Mikoto, as if waiting for her to take offence. Really, she was embarrassed to be called out in such a manner—a sack of potatoes, seriously—and nearly missed the implications of what he'd admitted. Okay. So Mikoto was not a natural nurturer, then? In her previous life, her sister had suffered badly from postnatal depression. Could Mikoto have been going through something similar?
"But she… She is acting strange."
"Undoubtedly, as she is letting us talk about her as if she isn't in the room without protest," Sensei agreed. He leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. "I'll make it quick. If we rule out this condition, then I'll move onto the proper neurological tests to determine what's going on. As I said, I regrew your brain, Mikoto-chan, so it's possible I put a piece back in the wrong way, or snipped a lobe in my hurry to revolutionise brain surgery."
"Sure."
"Do you know who we are?"
Oh, damn. She was definitely caught. But was that a bad thing? It would be easier to live her life if she didn't have to pretend to be someone else. This body was a mother and a wife; they wouldn't kick her to the curb for posing as an amnesiac, right?
"I have some ideas."
Fugaku inhaled sharply. Sensei took the news on the chin like a champ. "Like?" He prompted her calmly.
How awkward.
"I know my name. I know that he"—she looked at Fugaku—"is my husband. And that Itachi is our son."
"And me?"
"The doctor who saved my life."
"That I am, among many other things, a few of which would typically come to mind before 'surgeon'," Sensei nodded thoughtfully. "At least you can still communicate clearly. Retrograde amnesia, huh? I guess I still have a long way to go on that technique. Alright. I'm going to ask you a few questions, give you a few words to memorise, test whether the other functions in your brain are up to scratch. Fugaku-kun—"
Fugaku spoke up, in a wooden tone, "It's true? You don't remember us?"
Mikoto could not lie to spare his feelings even if she wanted to. "It's true," She confirmed.
He stared unblinkingly for a couple of seconds. Then he came over to her bed and plucked his son from her lap. Itachi settled naturally on his hip, and trustingly laid his head on his father's broad chest. With one fist in his mouth, he flapped his other one in Mikoto's direction. It was his uncoordinated version of a wave.
Sensei's face went a little gooey at the sight of Cute Baby, and stayed quite soft when he regarded the young man standing, lost, in the middle of her hospital room. "Fugaku-kun, get something to eat from the cafeteria while I get this part of the process sorted. I'll send an intern for you when we're done here. There is no need for your presence."
"If you're sure—"
"Quite sure," Sensei flicked his fingers at Fugaku to hurry him along. "Go on, get some fresh air."
Although reluctant, Fugaku followed his directive obediently. He didn't look back as he exited the room. Sensei hardly waited for the door to close behind him to start the interrogation. "So, Mikoto-chan. Let's figure out what you know!"
Sensei proved to be relentless.
He started the conversation with some random words for her to remember, grilled her for her life story, then asked her about twenty minutes later to repeat the words she was supposed to memorise. Mikoto answered whatever she could, maintained stony silence for anything she did know but shouldn't have, but mostly didn't have to act dumb because in reality, she really was that stupid and seriously didn't know what was going on.
Sensei never lost his composure. Despite the overly personal way he referred to her, which led Mikoto to believe she definitely knew this specific doctor outside the context of a hospital, the case of her amnesia didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Even as his questions ruthlessly peeled back the truth of the matter—that whatever remained of her life was a barren picture indeed—he was calm and utterly unperturbed at the situation.
Mikoto wondered if his bedside manner would unsettle anyone else in her position. As it was, she found it quite relaxing. It distracted her from the aftermath that she dreaded to deal with.
"Since Fugaku is your husband," Sensei reminded her at some point, "you'll have to live with him once you're discharged."
Mikoto pressed her lips together. She owed it to herself to ask. "There are no other options?"
"I seem to recall that you have a living grandmother, however, she's feeling rather poor herself. The hospital couldn't release you to her in good conscience."
"I see."
"Fugaku is a good man, he'll provide you with an adequate amount of care. And I doubt he'll impose on you to perform any marital duties in your condition." Mikoto's face felt like it was set on fire. Sensei chuckled and said, "What? Is that not what you were worried about?"
"Not just that!" She protested. "There's also—"
"Also what?"
How about the goddamn baby?
"... Nothing. Don't worry about it."
Sensei let her save some face and moved onto the next part of his tests. It took about an hour and a half of diagnostics before he deemed his curiosity sated, and even then Mikoto suspected he only took his fangs out of her because she physically couldn't continue. This body was recovering from very intensive brain surgery, so too much thinking was literally bad for her.
Regardless, he dragged it out as much as he could, finally calling it after her fourth yawn in as many minutes.
"You should get some sleep," He said it in such a way as to imply that he had nothing to do with why she was still awake. "I suspect that I've learned everything useful from that holey brain of yours, so you might not see me again unless something interesting happens. Not to worry, I have quite a few interns and apprentices running about who are competently trained; you'll be in good hands. Before I go, do you have any questions?"
Mikoto had many, but one was more pressing than the others. "You never told me how I got injured in the first place, sensei."
He blinked. "Didn't I? Oh dear. Well, you should have some idea already. But as the report goes, you were on a retrieval mission when a group of enemy shinobi ambushed your camp in the night. I believe it was your turn on watch. You took a war axe right here," He pointed to the side of her head that was shaved, and gestured diagonally across, tracing the path the weapon took when it cleaved through her face. "Any further and it would have bisected your skull; there is no miracles in the world could have saved you after that."
"Thank you, then, for giving me that miracle."
"Yes, well, as it is I can only take credit for one of them."
Mikoto frowned. "One of them? Do you mean to say I received two?"
"At least I don't need to test your counting skills," Sensei huffed, but his irritation seemed to be nothing more than an act. "The ambush happened outside of the village. You had to be carried back with half of your brain pulverised. One of your teammates kept you alive nearly singlehandedly until you could be seen by a medical professional. In fact, maybe you should count it as three miracles."
"Why do you say that?"
"The two of us went to such extraordinary measures to save your life; and I think I can safely say that neither of us would have tried so hard if not for your connection to Fugaku. You should be grateful to that husband of yours. He contributed just as much as I did."
"I see," Mikoto said. "I will make sure he knows."
"No, no, don't embarrass him," Sensei chuckled. "I just wanted you to keep it in mind, that's all."
Mikoto bowed her head respectfully. Internally, she was sweating buckets. Did she just get shovel-talked?
System, who is this guy?!
「 Loading character sheet… 」
「 Name: Orochimaru
Age: 31
Rank: Sage
Status: Alive
Physical: 6/6 Stars
Mental: 6/6 Stars
Spiritual: 6/6 Stars
Plot relevance: 6/6 Stars
One of the legendary Sannin of the Hidden Leaf Village. Also known widely for his ambition to discover all the secrets of chakra, Orochimaru is a respected inventor, scientist, and doctor. He is the personal teacher to Senju Nawaki, and jonin sensei to Team 4, which consisted of Uchiha Fugaku, Uzumaki Kushina and Sarutobi Riku before its disbandment. 」
?!
Huh!
Ridiculous! Completely ridiculous stats!
In the rules of this world, wasn't this guy basically the mother-in-law protecting the fragile pride of her favourite son? This was the person who was watching Mikoto to make sure she treated the precious son and grandchild well? Holy shit. Mikoto had married out of her league, and Orochimama-sensei was taking the opportunity to remind her of precisely that!
"I… will definitely keep it in mind…"
How did she even encounter someone so freakishly powerful within her first twenty-four hours here?
「 Umm… Host? 」
Oh god.
「 Friendly reminder that the purpose of this Beta system is to trial a new method of creating a more fulfilling, dynamic story within the Naruto! isekai fanfiction genre. Some aspects of the original plot have been amended within the guidelines of Protocol: Small World! Way Too Small! with special efforts to reduce the amount of OCs in the main plot without diverging too far from canon. 」
What the hell did that mean?
「 Orochimaru-sensei is a unique modifier to canon, specific to the Host's session! 」
So the only reason such a character existed was because Mikoto was here?
「 Not quite… What it means is that, if Host had reincarnated into a different session, she would never have encountered Orochimaru-sensei. 」
Ah.
Apparently this so-called system was a real shoddy piece of work.
「 … Your feedback has been submitted. 」
"I don't want to keep you for too long," said Orochimaru-sensei, a sentence he was definitely using because it was polite and not because he meant it. "Sleep. A nurse will be by after I leave with your lunch, and dinner is delivered around five-thirty. They'll wake you up and make sure you aren't braindead. As I said: good hands."
"Thank you for everything, sensei…"
He waved away her thanks—she was running out of things to say, honestly—and finally took his leave.
Once he was out of the room, Mikoto heaved a great big sigh and attempted to bury herself in her pillows. Could people isekai into stories that weren't anime shows? Couldn't she have been the new girl in Glee instead? So unfair, so unfair.
What was she going to do?
The husband… Okay, maybe the husband wouldn't be too hard to handle. He was a grown man that could theoretically be reasoned with and naturally had the intellect to understand that Mikoto post-amnesia was going to be different from Mikoto pre-amnesia. However, the presence of a betrothal contract muddied things up; she would need to discover the terms they'd agreed on, maybe find a loophole, wriggle out of it?
But would that be the best idea?
The system rated a character's plot relevance for a reason, and Mikoto's entire job as a displaced person was to change the plot (whatever that meant). Fugaku didn't have the impressive resume of his son or sensei, but he was still more important to the story than Mikoto. By sticking close to him as his wife, she had a chance to whisper in his ear, perhaps nudge things along when and where she found it necessary… Being wife to a clan head could give her some weapons as well.
As awkward as it would be, she should seriously consider trying to maintain a friendly relationship with her husband, rather than finding ways to divorce him ASAP.
As for Itachi—well, that was just hopeless, front to back.
She couldn't tell how old he was, but despite the system identifying him as a newborn, Itachi was definitely too big for that; he had to be a couple months old. Too young to be without his parents either way. Even in a situation where she decided to divorce Fugaku and make her own way, she'd still have to check in on her 'son', no? Being the deadbeat mom character was never a smart idea; karma was real, and Itachi was very important to the story, so the narrative might well take its revenge on anyone who wronged someone like him.
But while she could intellectually come to terms with being a wife and a mother, the reality wouldn't be so simple to cope with.
And she knew it, she just knew…
Man, she was going to hate this.
A set of nurses arrived with lunch, then fiddled with the numerous tubes sticking out of Mikoto's body while she ate. One went to stand off to the side to check the cleanliness of her head stitches.
The remaining nurse took the opportunity to say, "Now that you're back with us, we'll be able to remove your breastfeeding seal!"
Mikoto nearly choked on her mouthful of jello. "My what?"
The nurse had a persistent customer service smile. She raised her hand near Mikoto's chest. "Do you mind if I undo this?"
"Uh, sure, go ahead?"
The gown had buttons down the front, which the nurse undid enough to allow Mikoto to see her chest and a bit of her stomach. She tipped her head down to gawk. Right in the middle of her breasts was a large print of black ink, the kanji character in immaculate condition.
The nurse hummed encouragingly. "You see? You had one put on when you first left on your mission, but that would have worn off by now. The doctors redid it while you were in surgery, but since there's no need for it anymore, we'll remove it for you."
"What does it do?" Mikoto spluttered.
The nurse pursed her lips, perplexed, peeked at the chart in front of Mikoto's bed, then didn't seem as weirded out by the question. "The seal provides a steady rate of hormones that tell your body to stop producing milk. The longer you wear it, the weaker it gets. Once it comes off completely, your body needs a day or two to reset, in some cases it takes over a week, but most mothers are able to resume their normal feeding schedule within a fortnight."
"...That's good."
"You might also find that your milk supply is dryer than usual—it's normal, don't worry. Your mammary ducts just need time to open up again."
Mikoto was speechless. The nurse behind her declared her stitches to be in good condition. "I'll start a round of Mystical Palm now, let me know if you feel any dizziness or nausea. We can always take a break." Whatever she did with her hands caused Mikoto's scalp to tingle like it was a hot summer day.
Goddamn it.
System, open up the glossary for terms 'sealing' and 'mystical palm'.
「 Loading… 」
After absorbing that information, Mikoto came to a conclusion. Healing was pretty nifty in this world. That other stuff? Way too complicated.
Her sealing master nurse had to leave to grab supplies, and returned with a little ceramic bowl of ink and a dramatic looking calligraphy brush. "What does that do?" Mikoto asked warily.
The nurse wet the brush and swirled it around in the ink with a concentrated frown. "I'm going to negate your seal before removing it," She said, "You won't feel a thing, don't worry."
With confident wrist movements, she placed five seemingly random strokes over the kanji. True to her words, Mikoto didn't notice any changes. "Just let it dry, then I can get it off you. Was that your husband waiting outside?"
"Huh?"
The nurses both giggled. "Tall, big shoulders, scary frown? He's handsome."
"And your son is beautiful," The other one said. "So cute! His eyelashes are longer than mine!"
"I'd consider myself quite fortunate to wake up to a family like that waiting for me."
Mikoto blew out a puff of air. "Yes, well… Yes."
The nurse healing her brain couldn't spare the hands, but her tone somehow communicated a consolatory pat on the back. "Don't fret too much about it, okay? Amnesia isn't the end of your life. It's more of a new beginning than anything. I'm sure your family will take care of you."
"That's why you have to vow 'in sickness and in health'!"
"Right? And there's every chance your memories could come back," The nurse reassured her. "Not—not that I'm qualified to tell you that! I just wouldn't want you to give up hope…"
Did she look so miserable that they both felt the need to pep her up, or were these nurses just nosy? It was hard to tell.
"Thank you," She settled on saying. "Um, I'm getting quite tired…"
"Of course you are, you've been awake for so long. Eat your fruit, it's good for you."
Mikoto obediently popped a cube of melon into her mouth.
"Just a few minutes and I'll be done up here," Said the Mystical Palm nurse. "Jun, how about you?"
Sealing Nurse touched the tip of her index finger to the ink. "It's dry. I'll take it off now," She reported, flashing a quick smile at Mikoto when she spotted her concerned expression. "You seriously won't feel a thing. Okay, here I go!"
She grabbed the topmost part of the kanji like it was three-dimensional, then ripped the seal from Mikoto's chest the same way you would tear a poster off of a wall. Mikoto expected it to feel like getting waxed or removing a particularly stubborn bandage, but it didn't at all. If she wasn't looking, she wouldn't have been able to tell anything had happened in the first place.
The nurse held the ink in her fingers like it was a sticker, brought it over to her small bowl of ink, and just dipped the old seal back into the bowl, where it dissolved and mixed back in with the fresh ink. Her hands were clean and unstained when she wiped them on her scrubs. "Yosh! Easy peasy!"
"Can everyone do that here?" Mikoto asked, very impressed.
"Not yet, but eventually, yes, we'll all know how to do simple seal work," said Sealing Nurse, coming over to button up Mikoto's gown. "Tsunade-hime and Orochimaru-sama are working tirelessly to train up all hospital personnel so that we have a base level of competency in sealing and medical ninjutsu."
"Thank the kami for our beloved Sannin," Healing Nurse said with the intonation of a prayer. "Once he hears the news, Jiraiya-sama will return shortly, I'm sure. Then we'll have a full house! I wonder if they'll pay a visit to the training grounds? I do love to watch them put on a show."
"We can only hope!"
Mikoto made a mental note: the Sannin are this world's One Direction.
The tingling in her scalp finally ceased. The nurse patted Mikoto's shoulders twice and said, "There we go, session complete. Jun, grab this please. I'll lower your bed back down so you can have a nap."
Sealing Nurse efficiently gathered the food tray. "I'll tell your hubby that you're all set for visitors. But don't talk to him for too long, you really need to rest." She left the room with the dirty dishes, the door rolling closed behind her.
The remaining nurse took quite a bit of time ensuring Mikoto was comfortable on her back, fluffing up her pillows and resetting her blankets and sheets so that they weren't bunched up. Mikoto, flustered, could only thank her on repeat; she kept laughing it off and saying, "Well, this is my job!"
She was very good at her job.
Finally, the nurse had set the room back to rights and was wrapping up. She gestured at the windows and asked, "Want me to close the curtains for you?"
"Yes please."
"Okay, no problem~"
Mikoto closed her eyes. Her headache was back. "Thank you again, Mai-san."
She shuffled out with an enthusiastic wave. "You sleep well, Uchiha-san!"
Then, it was quiet.
And quiet it stayed, right up until Mikoto fell asleep not twenty minutes after her lovely helpers left.
And when she was woken up for dinner and tended to by a new shift of nurses, she was terribly grateful to find her visitor chairs remained empty in the dark corner of her room.
Fugaku and Itachi didn't return at all that night.
