"It's…nice to officially meet you," the youth in front of me said with extreme awkwardness. "I am Asano Kazuhiro. Your god-brother. And I'm going to be taking care of you from here on out."

I simply blinked at him. What, did he expect me to introduce myself? You were the one who named me, dude! Try as I might, I could only pick up bits of that conversation, but that piece didn't escape me.

He sighed, and placed me down in a carrier he had brought. I turned my head as much as I could manage to continue examining him.

I wasn't great at guessing ages, and as an infant everyone looked huge, but even I could tell that Kazuhiro was young. Way too young to trust with a child, especially an infant, for more than a couple hours. Apparently, nobody else shared that opinion. Old enough to kill, old enough to raise a child, I guess.

He had hair that someone from my original world would pay hundreds of dollars to emulate—dark blue like early dawn, though the effect was slightly ruined by the slight greasiness of late puberty. He also had freckles, grayish eyes and a gaunt looking face. Definitely needed a good night's sleep or twelve, but given the circumstances I could give him a pass.

All in all, certainly not out of the running for anime protagonist. Too bad we didn't share genetics. Hopefully, I would turn out even wackier (in a good way).

He sighed, slumping down into his seat. He was waiting for a nurse to return with documents and likely instructions.

"What am I doing?" he moaned, and I couldn't help but cringe at the despair in his voice. It's okay, little dude, I thought. I know you'll try your best.

What a shit situation he was forced into. At that moment, I internally vowed that I would make things as easy as I could for him. It was the least I could do. I died in my early thirties and never got around to having a kid, but I had friends who had, so I knew how much of a trial it was for two adults, never mind a single teen.

"Gah bahh. Ay!" I offered him, and his eyes widened at the noise. That's right, he's never heard me speak before.

He chuckled softly as the surprise wore out. "At least you're a cute kid. Hisashi…he would have loved you so much."

Well, fuck. That even made me sad, and I didn't know the dude. Time to make another vow; to uphold and honor my parents' legacies.

It wasn't the nurse who returned, but a doctor. A different one than the person who tended after me in the evenings.

"Bring her back for a cursory checkup every three days," he instructed Kazuhiro, giving him several sheets of paper. "And don't hesitate to bring her in early if you believe something to be amiss. Her health is fine, but any trauma at such a young age needs to be treated with the utmost urgency. Regularly monitor her chest region, and if you sense any," he lowered his voice a touch "chakra disturbances, bring her back immediately."

"Chakra?" Kazuhiro repeated in bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

The new doctor's gaze flitted over her new guardian's head, as if looking for eavesdroppers. "As you must have experienced, chakra is intrinsically tied to our emotions. I have learned of cases where an infant's chakra lashes out against its host's body, causing catastrophic internal damage. Incredibly rare, but something we must consider nonetheless. With both her parents being jonin, Kasaiki-chan might have naturally larger chakra reserves, meaning there's a greater risk."

The doctor was so good at lying—duh, medic or not, he was a ninja—that Kasaiki almost believed him at face value. But then I remembered the other doctor's words several nights prior.

He must want Kazuhiro to watch for signs of me messing with my chakra, I realized. I thought he said he wasn't going to tell anyone about that? Perhaps the case study he described was a real thing, and he instructed this new doctor to warn Kazuhiro about it.

Whatever the reason, her god-brother looked well and truly spooked by the warning. The doctor noticed as well and sighed.

"Just remain vigilant, and there won't be a problem," he said in an approximation of reassurance. "If she begins crying, investigate. It will usually mean she is hungry or needs to be changed, but if you prod around certain areas and the crying intensifies, it might indicate she is in physical pain. Take her to the hospital immediately if that is the case—our secretaries have been informed to fetch me or one of the other medic-nin at once."

Jesus. He was really worried about me exploding myself, wasn't he?

Kazuhiro nodded seriously. "She doesn't seem like much of a crier."

"You can thank Kami for that," the doctor said. "I've attended to her quite a bit, so I've noticed her cues. She doesn't seem to cry when babies typically do; when she's hungry, she'll make mouth sounds, when she needs to be changed she'll flail her arms. Other than that, she's silent. Perhaps it has something to do with the vocal scarring, and the associated difficulty of producing audible sounds. Maybe the act of crying is too difficult for her. Though she does possess an uncommon degree of intelligence besides. When I make my rounds at night, she always calls for food at nearly the exact same time. As if she can tell time, and regulate her own schedules accordingly, something that is notoriously rare before the twelve month mark."

Kasaiki frowned at the doctor. He had attended to her quite a bit? What a strange thing to say, because she was sure she had never seen the man before today. The same doctor checked up on her each night, and he looked nothing like the man before her. But why would he lie? And with such accuracy; all of his observances were right on the money.

"That's good to know," Kazuhiro said, ducking his head in appreciation. "Thank you for all you have done for her."

"Stones at the base are what makes a mountain strong," was his reply. And with that, they left, and Kasaiki caught her first daytime glimpse of Iwagakure.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

Hidden villages might have started out as hidden, but that approach soon grew unrealistic. Aside from Taki, none were self-sufficient—most weren't even close—so that meant they relied heavily on imports and exports. And if merchants couldn't so much as find the village to trade with, then there would have been a big problem.

Unlike some other villages—cough cough Konoha cough—Iwagakure was rather subtle. Her architecture consisted of tall, cylindrical buildings that bore conical roofs and much shorter, wider houses that were squeezed in between them. Though unconvincing up close, at a distance the phallic shaped buildings did well to blend in with the titanic mountains that surrounded Iwa on all sides but one. Other hidden villages had man-made walls, but Iwagakure's were all natural.

Over the years, great portions of said mountains had been hollowed out for the village's own purposes, a mammoth undertaking even for the village of Doton users. Tunnels had also been excavated to connect Iwa with the smaller nations to its back, both for trade and for militaristic reasons.

The village, though it was more like a city these days, was built in rings to better maintain the illusion. At the center was the Tsuchikage's Palace, along with several other important buildings like the Intelligence headquarters and the Red Ogre Command Center. Once the Black Tengu were created, their headquarters were moved into the basement of the Palace as well.

More and more rings were created in the years since, each one constructed purposefully in order to maintain the illusion. An academy was created, along with Mogaki-sho, shopping districts, and plenty of residential areas.

From above, Iwagakure's disguise was less effective. The building's roofs blended into the ground perfectly if one were to look straight down, but approaching it from the sky brought plenty of other angles into view. And of course, any populated area would have busy streets. It had never been an issue before though, because most shinobi who held the ability to fly came from Iwa to begin with.

Not that it really mattered. Iwa had never been invaded; in fact, an enemy army had only breached the Land of Earth's borders three times in their entire history (smaller armed forces were another story). This was due to the incredible degree of battlefield control Iwagakure shinobi with a good grasp on Doton techniques possessed. Without vegetation, sand or water restricting their techniques, there was nothing stopping them from collapsing an enemy camp from below, hiding devastating traps or even causing avalanches.

Earth jutsu may not have been as flashy as fire, lightning, wind or even water. It was rigid, unmalleable and stubborn. But, as many of Iwa's enemies discovered, it was incredibly difficult to fight when you couldn't even trust the ground beneath your feet.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

I didn't mind that Kazuhiro treated me like a kouhai instead of a literal baby. In fact, I probably would have lost it if he spoke to me in a more age appropriate manner.

"This is the living room," he said, pulling the front door closed with a piteous screech of the hinges. The room was mostly bare, with only one seat, a wooden coffee table—did they have coffee? Oh, I really hope they have coffee—and a mobile hanging from the ceiling. I stared up at it in bemusement. Were those shuriken?

Before I could tell for sure, I was carried to the next room.

"Here is my bedroom, and yours for now. There's one for you across the hall, but the pamphlets recommended you stay in the same room as me for now."

Aww, he did his required reading. He was taking this seriously! And I didn't mean that sarcastically—no matter where I was in life, be it school or even the navy, I rarely ever read what I was told to. Even in the face of a failing grade or a reprimand. I don't know why; it wasn't some form of protest, statement or even a lack of care. And I don't think I had attention problems either—I just hated being bored.

Maybe Kazuhiro didn't share my deficiencies, but I was still touched.

"This is your crib," he said, showing me the structure that would be my permanent residence for the near foreseeable future. It was battered and the wood was scuffed all over, but the mattress thing over it looked brand new. He deposited me inside and, turning my head, I saw his own bed. Or, rather his lack thereof. Craning my neck to the side, carefully because I knew the muscles were underdeveloped, I looked down through the slats of the crib to see a plain gray shikibuton resting on the floor. There was no other furniture in the room.

Jeez, Kazuhiro. This is just depressing.

Maybe I shouldn't judge. This type of floor mattress, I think, was a common alternative to beds in Japanese culture, and so was minimalism. I shouldn't push my western sensibilities on someone who doesn't share them. That wasn't cool.

"Careful," Kazuhiro whispered, delicately tilting my head back up towards the ceiling and rearranging the special pillow underneath it so I was stuck in a safer position. I chirped at him, and a gentle smile crept across his face.

Uh oh. I think we just established a parental bond.

"I'll be right back," he promised, slowly pulling his finger out of my grasp. I hadn't even realized I grabbed it. "There's someone I want to introduce to you."

Like he said, Kazuhiro returned with another figure in tow. Completely unable to sit up, I turned my baleful expression to the newcomer, an older woman who cooed over me as if I was, well, a baby. My appreciation for Kazuhiro went up another notch as I bore the humiliation in silence.

"This is Akane-obasan," he introduced as the woman continued to prod me. "She'll be helping me take care of you."

Oh, thank god. This body was so unbelievably frail. Even with my foreknowledge, I wasn't sure I could keep it alive, not with twig-like bones and unresponsive muscles. Thoughtlessly doing something normal like rolling over or sitting up could kill me. And Kazuhiro was trying, but teenage boys weren't exactly known for their caution.

"I wish you had come to me before you bought this," this so-called Akane-obasan chattered on, fussing with the chipped wood of the crib. "I still have Atsuchi-kun's old crib—you'll find, even after she grows up, you won't be able to let such things go."

"Perhaps it would be good to leave it at your home," he proposed. "I won't be able to stay out of the field forever; it might be good for her to spend the night with you. If you are willing."

"More than willing," Akane said. "What's the alternative? The daycare? This angel won't be able to find the attention she deserves there."

Oh, hell no. I don't want that kind of attention. Daycare please, Kazuhiro.

"I heard one of the matrons had an illness, and since they were too understaffed, she came in anyway. It spread amongst the kids and killed two of them!"

Ooookay, never mind then.

"Yes, I would like to avoid that," he said.

They talked for a bit longer before excusing themselves. I thought I heard something about them going to Akane's house to go through her old baby supplies, but I had truthfully stopped listening.

Ever since I first learned to feel my own chakra, I had been exploring and charting my pathways. It was relaxing and, better yet, took all my focus and attention, so it was instrumental in relieving my boredom. I could now form a submarine with but a single thought, and I nearly always had one mucking about inside me.

After a couple days purposely directing my submarine around my entire body, I decided that I was being an idiot. No cartographer mapped the entire globe in one fell swoop—they started small with a single region they knew. Then they expanded, broadening their scope until all the pieces finally fell into place.

So, I turned my attention to my right hand and there it remained—will remain until I'm satisfied. You wouldn't think that would take too long; at this stage, I can barely even palm a grape. But holy Moses is the chakra pathway system in my hand complex.

There were twenty-three of what I knew to be called tenketsu, which I privately referred to as my ports. They were the only spots in which I could initially form my submarines, which led me to believe that they are almost like muscles. They respond to signals from my brain, and allow me to consciously move and shape my own chakra just like muscles can allow me to move parts of my body.

Between my ports are…I'm not sure if they have a name in canon, so I'll call them my canals. That's where most of my chakra sits normally, unmoving until I use my tenketsu to shape it to my will. Something that was incredibly tempting for me to try out on a much larger scale, though I unhappily refrained. With my new level of understanding, filtered through the lens of my existing knowledge of physics as it pertains to liquids, I could understand why the doctor didn't want me messing around. Kinda.

I'm not sure if chakra has mass (I kinda think it has to, but I'm not really sure what mystical bullshit is going on) but I know for a fact that it can interact with the physical world. If it couldn't, Naruto's Rasengan would do less damage than a puff of smoke. My best guess is that my canals are, like the rest of my body, thin and weak. They rely on subconscious limiters and pain to keep myself from irreparably damaging them by accident.

It's similar to a person's more mundane muscles. Even as an adult, human muscles can produce a lot of force—more than the bones and joints around them can take, in fact. So the brain puts subconscious limiters in place to keep them from going overboard, unless adrenaline tells the brain that the situation warrants such an extreme. As a baby, this predicament is a lot worse. My muscles are smaller, yes, but my bones are a lot weaker. If I wanted to, which I obviously don't, I could break my own arm with ease—I can tell because even the most normal of motions, if done hard enough, can cause a not insignificant amount of pain.

It's the same with my canals. As I grow older, they'll presumably grow wider and tougher, reforging themselves until they can handle the rough movement of chakra without, well, tearing. For now though, I don't want to risk significant injury, so I'll resist the everpresent urge.

There is no shortage of distractions so far. The tenketsu and canals are rather straightforward, but those two things only make up the body of the river that was my chakra. There were tributaries, a nearly countless amount. Half brought in trickles of chakra, half brought them out.

My vague recollection was that physical energy, Yang Chakra, would merge with the spiritual Yin energy to create chakra chakra, so I imagined that was what the chakra entering my canals was. Sure enough, my submarine fizzled out as soon as I tried to swim up it, against the current.

The only people in canon that I know of with the ability to manipulate pure Yang or Yin chakra were deities, so I didn't even try. I couldn't hazard a guess where the Yin component was coming from at this time, but there was enough present to fully mix with all of the Yang streaming in.

At a dead end, I gave up on wondering after the sources of Yin chakra, as such discoveries were likely a long way's off. I was much more curious about the other tributaries anyway, the ones chakra was leaving the canals through. Where was all of that going?

Once I could finally manage to form a submarine small enough, I would find out.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

Fatherhood wasn't anything like Kazuhiro imagined, or anything like he feared. He had resigned himself to the notion that he wouldn't get a full night's sleep for the entire month or longer, and he expected an ever present cacophony of wails and tantrums to fill his home.

The morning after he first took Kasaiki home, he woke up to sunlight flitting through the blinds. She hadn't roused him, not even once. And neither did she wake him up on the second night, or third, or fourth, or ever.

Kazuhiro was a chunin actively fighting in a war. He didn't rest easily, and the slightest noise would have sparked him into alertness. Kasaiki didn't even give him that. She never tried.

That was extremely abnormal. Infants of this age were supposed to feed every three hours, give or take, but she never once woke him up between eleven pm and eight am. That was only six feedings, and she was clearly starving by the time morning rolled around.

If she wasn't going to wake him up, he set an alarm for four am, and began feeding her at that time. The first time he did that, she actually made a noise, almost like she was surprised. She had also, with extreme cuteness, reached out and laid a hand on the tip of his nose as he bent down.

Another strange thing about the girl was how sedentary she was. The pamphlets claimed that babies were always moving in an instinctive attempt to build their muscles, but Kasaiki was so still that Kazuhiro frequently grew paranoid that she had passed away. He brought that observation to one of the doctors during her three day checkup, and they seemed to think it was strange but not dangerous.

That all changed towards the end of the first month they were together. Kasaiki remained silent and continued to stick to her body's apparently rigid schedule, but she began to move a lot. Never at night, but during the day Kazuhiro swore he saw her doing crunches and other strength building exercises. She had been able to support her head for extremely brief periods of time since before he had even taken her in—it was rare but not unheard of for a one-month-old to manage such a feat—but soon there was no wobbliness and she no longer grew fatigued to the point that she flopped back onto the pillow, something that had always freaked him out.

Now that she was active, her formula intake spiked dramatically. He had sprung for a new invention, a refrigerator, though he hadn't realized it had to be connected to the electrical network. That was a pain to arrange, but he managed it eventually. The whole thing cost a ridiculous amount, more than the house itself, but it only put a small dent in his new overall savings.

With their new refrigerator, though, he could prep baby formula en masse, and he discovered it was useful for a hell of a lot more than that. Feeding himself became a lot easier too.

Then, his month was up, and with a surprising amount of regret, he made arrangements with Akane-obasan. Kasaiki-chan would stay with her while he was away.

He made his way to the hospital, and was eventually met by the first doctor, the same one who wrote Kasaiki's birth certificate.

"I am here for a clean bill of health regarding my, er, chakra poisoning," Kazuhiro said formally.

The doctor scrutinized him for a moment. Then, "request denied."

Kazuhiro recoiled. "What? What do you mean?"

"I mean that you haven't fully recovered, and I do not pronounce you fit to return to active duty."

"Sensei," he argued, thoroughly perplexed. "Kasaiki-chan is in good hands. She'll be fine with me gone."

"This isn't about your charge," the doctor lied. "This is about you and your injury. Your condition is serious and you could easily die without enemy intervention if you use your chakra."

Kazuhiro almost verbally reminded the doctor that he only gave him the diagnosis to ensure he was able to take care of Kasaiki, but there were people around and there was no chance the doctor had forgotten. Something else was up.

"There's still a war going on," he said instead. "Iwa needs me."

The doctor sighed, cupping his chin and hiding his mouth from lip-readers in the process.

"Iwa doesn't need you for what's about to happen," he said lowly as Kazuhiro struggled to hear him. "Soon, our forces will be directed into a single offensive, and with fewer separate fronts, they won't need nearly as many couriers."

"So they can reassign me," he protested.

"No," the doctor said firmly. "Iwa doesn't need you on the battlefield right now. They need you here." He dropped his hand. "My word is final. Now if you excuse me, I have patients to attend to."

He whirled away, leaving Kazuhiro in bewilderment. The multiple fronts were unifying to mount one massive offensive? Why? And why did the doctor want him kept out of it?

Something big was about to happen, he could just tell. And it seemed like he would be foisted on the sidelines while it happened, for better or for worse.

- - - { ワナビー } - - -

AN: When Kasaiki spoke to Kazuhiro in baby speak, she was trying to say Ganbare, which means good luck or try your best. It's another multipurpose phrase, and isn't snide or condescending as the English translation would be in the context of the scene.

The invasion of Uzushio is coming, and with it, the Second Shinobi War will draw to a close. Get ready for shit to pop off.