Konoha's Waking Nightmare

by JollyHippopotamus

Reborn into the Naruto world with the third war looming ahead. What's a civilian born girl to do? Become an S-rank Genjutsu mistress of course! Now if only she can survive her own family, her sensei, and Orochimaru is in the village too isn't he? who needs enemies with these allies? OC/SI, AU world.

1. Born Bad

Here's chapter 1: Born Bad

Trigger warning:

This chapter and indeed many chapters in this story will explore child assassin's and a brutal war. There will be mentions of child abuse, rape, torture, gore and other unpleasant things (Although not shown in detail for obvious reasons). If these things are possible triggers I would not recommend continuing to read.

Normally I wouldn't begin with a character this young. The Naruto world already has the set up with Kakashi the prime example, that these things are possible at that age however. And as this era is what I want to write about, then after that, having an adult character in the Naruto era, this is how I decided to proceed. I understand the age thing is not going to be everyone's cup of tea. Definitely not with the added unpleasantness going on.

This is an original character I created, it is not me, not my experiences. She is made up. Her views and feelings at times, are not my own, but what I'd imagine someone with her previous life would feel like and act.

For those who do want to read and will continue on, I hope you enjoy it.

As usual I do not own, make money off, or in any way have a right to the characters of Naruto or its world. I'm just a lowly fanfiction writer.

＊＊＊

Being human should not be a difficult concept to grapple with. Yet it's one I have suddenly found myself debating internally. Why internally only? Because I have somehow reincarnated, and I am currently a newborn baby. I suppose I should have been panicking, freaking out over the existence of reincarnation, over having to grow up all over again, the loss of my previous life and all that I have accomplished. Yet, instead I am pondering over the impossibility of a newborn baby having a brain capable of holding the memories and thought processes of an almost 50 year old woman.

I have or well had read stories about these kinds of things. Always scoffing at them, a baby would not be able to think, remember and store all that makes an adult human mind. And that's what I was pondering, how that all would be true, if I was a normal human baby. The elasticity of an inhuman or superhuman brain perhaps worked differently, capable of holding and processing so much more. There was a power flowing through me, a feeling I was unused to from my previous life. Logically my body being born in whatever superhuman or weird world I am in would be accustomed to this, and I should not even be able to notice.

Logic however rarely works when you take into account super powers or magic. I might not remember being a baby the first time around, but I remembered my normal baseline human body. And having my adult mind somehow aware and working, I could feel the difference. Like a warmth running just below my skin, a river flowing powerfully through my body. I didn't know if it was magic or what it was. But I could feel it, and it wasn't just in me. Although my baby eyes showed only blurs around me, I could feel this presence that was inside of me, also abundant in the environment and people moving around me.

I must have made my new parents remarkably happy with how quiet of a baby I was those first few weeks. Just thinking. Getting a feel for this power inside of me, meditating and letting my mind flow along the rivers inside my tiny body. I couldn't speak, couldn't quite see properly yet, could hear the babbling of what sounded like an Asian language, maybe Japanese. So I focused on myself. Fervently wishing the language didn't mean I was in some sort of anime world, and simply had been reborn in Japan with some sort of power, perhaps hidden from regular beings. I had been somewhat of an anime nerd, blaming younger family members for my addiction, while secretly watching everything. Because of that, I didn't want to deal with that kind of bullshit that anime regularly involves.

Soon enough I found myself shocked, intrigued and frankly terrified, finding out where I was, the world I inhabited now. Being a fairly intelligent woman, and with apparently a magic brain/body, the language began to make sense in snippets fairly quickly. As my eye sight also improved I was able to assess my situation. My mother and father both would come see me everyday but rarely spent a prolonged amount of time. Servants looked after me. The nursery I spent most of my time in was adorned with expensive looking fabrics, mainly in purple for some reason, and artwork that denoted a wealthy family. There were bronze busts and statues around, even though the walls were wooden, with sliding paper doors. It was a bit of a dichotomy in contrast.

The eclectic mix of furniture and items made me hypothesize that we were business or mercantile in nature. I saw nothing that would explain why I had power running through my veins, or why I could feel it around me, in people especially for a while. My parents and the servants that took care of the distasteful things I tried to block out, all had a tight, barely there core of power inside of them. Moving sluggishly through them, barely used. I already have a more vibrant flow in my body from my meditation and light experimentation on touching it and trying to ride the flow. It was the servants who brought me into the reality of where I was. A word being spoken several times over again. Konoha. Damning my second life on one word alone. Damn it to hell!

Now I had not seen any ninja. I had not been outside my nursery really as far as I could tell. As I spent a lot of time asleep. Yet as soon as I heard Konoha, I immediately believed myself to be in that fictional world. Why? Because finally my existence made some sense. This power running through me was chakra. The reason my baby mind could handle my adult mind - no doubt I had an incredibly skewed spiritual chakra ratio versus physical right now - explained my thought processes existing.

Elemental nations citizens all having chakra did explain why my brain could adapt and I could be, well, me. It would also explain my sensitivity to chakra and ability to sense it around me. I probably had more spiritual chakra currently - as a middle aged woman's memories and experiences - than most had after a decade of training.

Or so I hypothesized based on my memories of the show I once watched religiously with my nieces and nephews to have anything in common with them, and because I secretly enjoyed it. Eventually even getting stuck into various fanfiction, further detailing the likely workings of chakra based on guesswork and fanon.

Spiritual chakra was literally mental energy. While physical chakra was just that. Physical energy. With a life of studying, a degree or two, and a career in criminal behavior profiling, literally studying minds. My mental energies were heavily skewed to begin with. As a baby with practically no physical energy, it was even more skewed.

Hence my ability to feel the chakra around me, my mind was literally reaching out around me to make sense of the world since my birth, and my spiritual chakra fell in line. Either that or my body was a natural sensor, which seemed unlikely. I don't remember there being that many in the world I remembered watching. And those shown were mostly from powerful clans. Whereas myself, I did not see it likely that I was. My parents and the servants had completely disused chakra systems. So likely civilians, wealthy, but civilians.

It was unfortunate in one way for me. Clans offered inborn abilities and a support system to become stronger. Then again they also offered expectations and rules and traditions to follow. I was a blank slate, well. Not completely blank. I would have an advantage due to my mental energies, I was doubtful that even catching up on training physicality would ever level my chakra out. My mental energies literally had a 46 year head start. From what I remembered from the show, this likely made me predisposed to be skilled in Genjutsu and Iryo-jutsu. My kind of sensor like ability also being a plus. However, Ninjutsu would probably always be harder to accomplish. Taijutsu and shurikenjutsu could be trained to strong levels by dedicating time to training. Yet Ninjutsu needed a mix of spiritual and physical energies. I'd never be able to throw dragons of fire through the sky. The little girl deep inside of me, or physically right here, I suppose, is very disappointed.

Somehow this did not discourage me, much. I was a woman anyway, I did not need flashy Jutsu to be powerful. And of course I was going to be powerful. I remember the show. Civilians were non entities. Any ninja could literally do anything to them and unless caught would never be punished. What civilian would even realize they're in a Genjutsu?

I would not suffer such. I had been an accomplished woman, headhunted by the FBI. I would not bow and scrape to some brat able to produce a fireball. Especially with the absolute calamity coming. I naturally assumed that as I had been reincarnated in this world, I was not so lucky as to be born after all the excitement. So I would have to be smart, proactive and above all absolutely ruthless.

If my mind and mental energies was my advantage. Then I would use that. The subtle arts would be just as deadly as Ninjutsu. Especially if people grow up as the show depicts. There was a remarkable lack of subtlety, cunning and stealth amongst the cast.

I was going to become a kunoichi. There was no doubt about that. And I didn't care how, who would have to suffer for it, how hard I had to train or fight for it. I would not live my second life as a second class citizen. There were literally magic powers up for grabs. I would siphon every iota of it to me.

I was suddenly grateful for belonging to some sort of wealthy civilian family. It was doubtful someone like Orochimaru or that creepy bandage man I couldn't remember the name of, would find out about me until I was already in the academy. If I showed signs of manipulation of chakra and sensing chakra as a baby in an orphanage things might have turned out… Unfortunate.

For the first time in my new life, I giggle and smile as my mother comes for a visit. This would be exciting. Even if I died, so what, I'd already died apparently, but here, in this life. There were amazing opportunities for those who could grasp it. The power to literally reshape the world and have no limits to your being. If I reach S-rank, I will practically be considered a god compared to my old life.

I will become powerful in true kunoichi fashion. Not by landscape changing Ninjutsu and explosions, I'll master the more subtle arts. And make them deadly.

Wherever in the timeline I am. Watch out for your silly anime world. I'm not going to show any mercy!

Famous last words.

＊＊＊

Now that I am starting to understand the language, things are progressing for me. I find out my name to start with, Tsubuki Inohana. My mother is Tsubuki Akane, a soft, curvy woman with long dark hair and big dark eyes, with porcelain skin. A trophy wife if I have ever seen one.

My father, Tsubuki Ichimaru, is at least twice her age, with a receding hairline with graying straw like hair, a large square jaw and intense cold forest green eyes behind spectacles. I hope I take after my trophy wife mother rather than my cold businesslike old man. There is just something inherently off about him. I have profiled serial killers before. And he hits way too many buttons on body language and speech alone.

I have three different caretakers, all young women. All clearly providing secondary services to the man of the house, clearly unwillingly. At least to my ever sharpening eyes and my ability to finally see clear enough to read body language and cues. The way my mom coldly ignores them, the way my father casually leers at them and orders them into his office at random times, the girls keep their eyes downcast as they work, the flashes of purple bruises when a shirt shifts. My second family is a piece of work. At least even with the obvious abuse, which perhaps is considered acceptable in this culture for all I know, they do not slack in taking care of me.

I apparently have a large number of cousins and uncles and the like, my previous hypothesis of us being a mercantile clan proving true once I can understand the people around me. Our clan has been in Konoha since just after its founding, providing services and products brought in from all over the elemental nations. On a good note it would give me some resources if I could finagle a way to get them. On a sour note, there is no way my father will allow me to join the academy as things stand. The clan is staunchly patriotic in every way, except for sending their children to become soldiers. This stance in a military dictatorship would be admirable if it wasn't such a potential pain in my ass. For whatever reason the clan is very strongly against anything ninja.

After realizing I am in this world specifically, I start to slowly and carefully experiment with my chakra. I know chakra exhaustion is deadly, probably more so for me, being a little baby. I am not in a ninja clan where such a thing could be noticed and fixed in time to save my life. So I proceed with caution. Small amounts of time spent on drawing chakra to my hands and feet and trying to stick to the surfaces of my crib. As soon as I start to feel my chakra burn slightly, which I assume is a sign of getting low, I stop and I would then meditate, again flowing along the river and mentally mapping out my chakra system. Trying to become more familiar with myself. The aim, to one day be able to completely account for every percent of my chakra and never have to guess when I have to stop. Frustratingly at the beginning it takes me ten seconds to start to feel the burn and forcing me to stop.

It takes me several months to successfully stick to a surface for a few seconds. In that timeframe I have been able to improve on the amount of time I can practice chakra by several minutes. And this is how months pass on. Slowly, I can practice longer, slowly I get better, my meditation helps me live my chakra. My mind floats along the river as it flows through me. I get a sense of my own body, I start to be able to control my own body processes better. My sleep feels more rested as I've sorted through my day and my memories and emotions already by the time I fall asleep.

I'll hesitate before calling it Occlumency ala Harry Potter. But the process of clearing my mind, remembering and viewing my own memories and sorting them away, has led to a clearer focus in me, and a sharper memory. Although not something as awesome as a mindscape.

I ensure to move as much as my little body allows, never overdoing it. Not intending to blow past milestones too quickly, not wanting my family to realize I'm… Odd. Not until I can do something about it. As months go by, my control of my chakra goes up, slowly at first, but eventually progressing strongly, allowing me to stick to any surface around me with any part of my body. I practice drawing chakra to every tenketsu point I can feel in my system. Gently swirling it around, getting used to my tenketsu and where they are, trying to gently expand them. I have no idea if it's working or not. It hasn't hurt so far. So… Yay?

My plan for the future has one simple step that counts for literally everything. I need to be able to use Genjutsu on my father. I need to be the best, the most skilled kunoichi around. And I can't languish away fighting with my family about being able to be a ninja. And he has the resources that he could use to help me on my way. If he was more pliable.

Do I feel bad for planning to basically use my father? Not even an ounce. This cold business-like abusive family does not for one moment gain any familial love from me. I have already had a family once. I loved them dearly. I did not intend to replace them. Ever. Their death the first time around broke me completely. You don't recover from that easily. I never have at all.

So how would I manipulate my father's brain? I doubt I would be able to figure out hand seals and how to perform regular Genjutsu anytime soon on my own. I understand the brain on both a psychological level and anatomically. If I could get my chakra in there. I should be able to create the Genjutsu effect I want. And that is why I decide to try and create chakra strings. My hubris is deep from my so far easy control of my chakra, if not a deep well to draw from. I forget for a moment that my easy control probably rests more on a pathetically small core than any particular skill.

This would frustrate me for the next three years. More than the disgust I feel for being cared for like the baby I am, with all that requires.

If there is a jutsu for memory removal. I want it!

＊＊＊

Tsubuki Akane could not understand her child at all, she did not behave like other children she had seen growing up. She had done her duty, the whole reason she had been married into the clan - to deliver a child. She had been taught her whole life on how to be a perfect wife and mother. Her purpose in life for her own clan was to make connections for future generations, and thus the alliance with the Tsubuki. They were the most powerful merchant clan in the elemental nations.

Yet she could not even stay in the room with her own child for more than a few minutes. The servants raised her instead. Perhaps proper in such a family, but she had so looked forward to a child, someone to help her soothe the coldness of living here, away from all that she loved.

She was thankful her husband's interest fell on the servants after she had delivered Inohana. She had to treat them coldly of course. As it was not proper for a wife to approve of her husband's dalliances with those below their station. Secretly she ensured the girls always had bruise cream available and herbs to prevent any unwanted children. Tsubuki clan rules prevent any of them from utilizing the birth control pills created by chakra using ninja. A weird rule, but one she had to follow now as the clan matriarch. It was one of the many peculiar rules the clan held in regards to their protectors.

She frowned as she noticed the concentrated look on Inohana's face again. She had made one of her rare visits today to the nursery, her child recently passing the one year old mark. She was secretly thankful that her child seemed to take after her in looks at least, with her porcelain complexion with dark shiny hair and sharp features. Her eyes however… Had the same cold forest green eyes of her husband. And it unnerved her to see Inohana focusing those eyes on something only she could see. It reminded her too much of her husband. Those cold eyes, and how cruelly he cut away anything that did not deliver profit. How he delighted in the cruelty. She felt that somehow the child was not hers. Even with the features resembling hers. Her soul could be seen through her eyes, and there she only saw her husband. Cold, calculating. Not human. She had heard stories about changeling child's and monsters replacing a child after birth. Folktales she had believed. She can not discount it any longer.

She shuddered as the child suddenly smiled, slapping a hand on her chubby thigh and giggling. Those expressive eyes looked just like her husband's when he'd cut some deal that destroyed someone's livelihood. Vicious glee at success. She remembered too many bruises and humiliations after seeing his eyes like that. She can't stand to see them in this… Child too. To see her grow up as perverse and monstrous, she was supposed to be hers!

She calmly stood up, depositing the embroidery she had been working on at a side table. Ignoring the servant girl's quiet query as she sweeps out of the room as quickly as she can manage while not looking like she was running away. There was something seriously wrong with that child. Surely her husband could see it. She would have to speak to him as much as she hated the task. Surely he would see the coldness in her eyes and take action. Surely at least he wouldn't suffer a potential rival, someone that could grow up to be a threat.

That child was just not natural.

＊＊＊

Shortly after I turn one my routine changes. My Father comes to see me, grabbing me by the chin. He inspects my eyes with a quiet hum. "Do you understand me child?" He asks me, a cruel glint in his eyes.

He reeks of the smell of alcohol and sex. I see the sadist in him clearly like this. Someone has been hurt and my father is relishing in being the one doling out the pain.

My mother did leave in a hurry earlier. Suppose I know what my father has amused himself with then.

I am wary of this change of routine and I don't immediately try to answer. Yet with his hand holding my face I can not look away, and he soon smirks with dark satisfaction. His thin lips twitching.

"It's in your eyes, girl. You can avoid speaking, but you can't hide the intelligence in your eyes." He chortles. He seems pleased. I am not. I am nowhere near ready to interact more with my father. I have only just managed to create a thin string of Chakra out of the tenketsu in my hands, and I am now busy trying to create a second to weave into the first - my hypothesis for creating chakra strings - My eventual goal for how to introduce my chakra into my father's brain. Which isn't now by any stretch.

"Going to keep silent?" He asks me, his hand grips my jaw harder, fingers pressing against my skin harshly. Nails drawing thin trails of blood. My head is pounding from the pressure but I refuse to give in. He grins at me, cold eyes seeming to light up with cruel delight. I have never seen this part of my father before so openly, but I can't say I am surprised. Power corrupts after all. He won't be the first cruel man I have ever faced, just the first in this life. Although the fact he holds all the power over me as my father is a new scenario. Especially in a clan based society where clan is everything.

"She's just a baby." Kaede - the girl taking care of me this morning - protests with a shaky voice. I close my eyes, really wishing she hadn't opened her mouth. I liked Kaede. She is sweet, and doesn't fuss about me trying to do weird things in my crib. And she is willing to read to me constantly, which is the only real stimulation I can have right now. Other than playing with my chakra, which never lasted that long. Mostly though I can't help but think, how could you be that stupid, you silly girl!?

My head is released and I am not at all surprised at the slap, nor the thud of Kaede falling or at hearing her shocked cry. She should have known better. I've seen her trying to hide the bruises. Why would she speak up!? What on earth possessed her to be this monumentally stupid?

My father picks me up. I squirm in his grip. I can feel the intent, my chakra sense showing a new facet as I can literally feel my father's intentions by the feel of his emotions and arousal. He places me within sight of my caretaker, on top of a dresser, so I will have a full view - The monster. To me he is practically stinking of arousal and cruelty. He grabs Kaede by the hair and looks at me coldly, not even bothering with a cruel smirk or a taunt as a storybook villain might have. "You have my eyes, little one, you need to learn early, that those like us with power. Can do whatever we want. And above all… I own you, this can be you!" And then he rapes my caretaker on the floor right in front of me. All because of some silly idea I have his eyes. It isn't the first act of cruelty I have seen in my life. Yet, it really brings home how in this world most women have no rights at all. My father is right about one thing. I need power. Because he does in every way that matters, own me.

As I disgustedly watch the happenings in my nursery, which I dearly hope I would be moved out of, after this. I determine that I'll need to work that much harder on my chakra strings. I need to control my father before he thinks to turn that cruelty on me. And surely he will. Abusers do not change their colors. One day, I will not live up to whatever he claims to see in me. And I will be the one bleeding and screaming on the floor. That is unacceptable!

It probably says bad things about my mental stability, that after a year of obsessing about my goal of becoming stronger, the cries of my caretaker does not bring out any reaction from me, other than wishing she'd kept her stupid mouth shut. That I was able to watch dispassionately - planning my own father's death in my head, once he was no longer useful - Not shedding any tears for the woman being brutalized.

Maybe there was something to being my father's daughter after all. I didn't expect it to be an inheritance of psychopathy.

If I knew then, how right I'd be. Would I have done things differently?

＊＊＊

After that little lesson, my father takes an unfortunate interest in me. He hires a tutor to teach me to read and write, and even though it was new to me - having never learned Japanese before - I saw no point in hiding my intelligence now that my father seemed to expect things from me, lacking in any way might lead to consequences. I was not willing to be the pathetic sight of a broken woman on my father's floor.

The lessons goes well. I soon move on from writing on a chalkboard to actual calligraphy, although my chubby fingers ensure that perfection was going to be a long term goal. My father takes any failure on my part personally. The more I succeed at a task, the harsher he becomes when I don't immediately succeed in another, like calligraphy. Something that will take much more than a month of working on, with these baby fingers.

He misjudges me as a weak child in the beginning however. He thinks to punish my caretakers whenever I fail his goals. It takes him a surprising amount of time to realize that even though they had nurtured me for over a year, I held no care for them, not in that way. They were simply useful. Unfortunately, that means that his only way to punish me for failing to live up to his goals was to hurt me.

＊＊＊

"Again! No sloppiness this time, there is no excuse for an intelligent girl like you to write like a ten Ryo whore" My father paces behind me as I sit stiffly on a stool, calligraphy supplies in front of me and expensive paper being used as my practice sheet. The waste was irritating to me, as I stretched my strained chubby fingers and attempted once again to reach perfection on my sheet.

Two minutes in, my fingers cramp and a blot appears, I bite my lip, already anticipating the hit before the cane slams across my lower back. I let out a low whine through now gritted teeth, my lip bleeding, tears pricking at my eyes. Trying to not show any weakness, it only infuriates him more. My backside burns and itches, having received several such hits already. I prefer the cane, my father can sometimes get too… inventive.

"You will get this. I have seen in you that you're like me, your eyes are like mine. You will not fail…" He caresses my cheek with the tip of the cane. "If this pain is not enough, perhaps you'll need further motivation…"

I quickly get better, not wanting to know what his possible next steps could be. All while he prowls around me, the threat of violence always over my head. The threat of… More.

＊＊＊

By the time I reach the age of three I can read anything he throws in front of me fluently, and my calligraphy is flawless. Surprisingly I find myself strangely fond of him, even after being switched with a wooden cane several times for imagined failures, and worse. Imagined failures to me anyway, as I couldn't possibly have perfected calligraphy at one and a half. It was amazing to me that I had been able to become so skilled at three. Yet bodies somehow worked differently here. My bruises healed quicker than I ever remembered from my old life. And my finger dexterity progressed rapidly far beyond what a three year old should be capable of.

Having studied psychology and basically being alone with only my sociopath father as human contact. I knew the fondness was more like Stockholm syndrome than any familial love. Even knowing didn't stop me from feeling it. My emotions and feelings are not as easily controlled and focused as my intelligence and memories. I am still three. And no amount of telling myself how wrong my emotions are, stops me from feeling them.

My increase in skill has made me grudgingly respect my father, I can't help it. Increased finger dexterity and a skill in calligraphy were both things that would assist me in the ninja life. Not that he knew he was preparing me for that. Likewise if I couldn't handle being switched, and … other things, what would I do when I suffered broken bones and kunai wounds. I hated him. But I also respected how he strengthened me. Above all he continuously strengthened my resolve. I got more and more used to the cruelty in his actions, the things I saw him do. It was common for him to bring a girl while I practiced something. Thankfully never my mother. Although considering she has apparently abandoned me completely, would it have made a difference to me? I suppose I will never know.

As I progressed he began taking me with him to observe his management of the clan holdings. It quickly became obvious that he was feared, anything he suggested was quickly adapted, the workers and supervisors almost groveling.

Of course, it wasn't all just management.

＊＊＊

It was a warm summer day when my father took me with him on a day trip outside Konoha. Just a small village nearby where he owned most of the farms around it, giving him practical ownership of the village itself for free, as none there dared to speak against him and lose access to all that they lived on.

"Inohana, today you'll see the basis of how life works." He says to me, as we walk down the small village road, dust kicking up around us due to the dryness. "Not only have these farmers underperformed, they have, due to their incompetence, delayed a project of mine."

I could have mentioned that the incredible dry spell this spring and summer made it impossible for any farmer to meet the same quota as last year. It was sensible. Logical. Yet for my father. Failure was failure. I would gain nothing to defend these strangers. And I would pay in pain… If I was lucky.

We soon approach a construction site at the edge of the village, only the skeleton of the building has been built yet. I could see a part that appears to have fallen, breaking apart at the southeast corner. Likely weeks of work, gone.

Why my father is using farmers to work construction I do not know, although it doesn't surprise me that accidents happen then. Hard working men can likely do both jobs, surely. Yet there are definite differences between agricultural work and construction. And my father would not accept failure no matter if it's from people not qualified to do the work in the first place.

Three dozen or so men stand at the ready, shuffling their feet nervously, for once I don't think the heat was behind the men's sweat-covered visages. A team of three, likely the foremen, stand ahead of them. They look absolutely terrified. My father's reputation precedes him. In a world such as this, powerful men have an incredibly ridiculous amount of power over 'normal' people.

And into this picture, walks my father, holding my tiny hand, me, in a pink kimono worth more then these men's livelihood. How surreal we must look.

"Ichimaru-sama!" One of the foremen says nervously, bowing deep.

"Is this everyone?" My father just says softly, a small smile on his face. He almost looks pleasant. Unless you see his eyes. The cruel pleasure he exudes has already told me someone will die today.

"Y-yes, this I-is e-ev-everyone!" The youngest of the foremen stammers out.

"Takito? Correct?" My father asks the young man. Ridiculous, my father has never forgotten a name in his life.

The man nods nervously. The other two foremen, perhaps subconsciously, perhaps on purpose, take two steps away from him. He doesn't exist anymore as far as they are concerned, their faces turned forward, not even a glance back at their colleague.

"Dig a hole, Takito." My father orders. Before turning away and facing the large group of sweaty men. Someone hands Takito a shovel, and the young man starts digging right where he stands, muttering prayers under his breath, likely hoping it's not a hole for him.

If I was a betting girl… That man is already dead.

My father doesn't raise his voice to speak. He doesn't have to. "I am a fairly patient man." He starts speaking with a placid little smile on his face. "I don't expect much from the likes of you, why should I? Unwashed, uneducated, trash, Meant to work until death. Although not too soon, mind you… I own you, you'll not die until I have no use for you anymore."

There is some shuffling amongst the men, no one daring to speak up. The only sounds when my father pauses in his speech, is the sound of a shovel hitting dirt, and Takito's desperate mumbled prayers.

My father's lips twitch, he's trying to hold back a cruel grin. "You've made a mess out of my work site. A mess that your lives can't pay for. All of you together, would not be enough to pay me back!" He snarls the final word. Flinches running through the crowd.

"You owe me a debt, one you can never pay, but today…" He looks down at me fondly. "You'll teach my daughter a valuable lesson. So I am in a…. Forgiving mood."

He turns to Takito, "You can stop digging now."

Takito looks relieved. The hole is nowhere near enough to bury a man in yet. There's hope on his face. That is how I know he's the one picked as the sacrifice. My father built that hope into him by forcing him to do this task. And then relieving him. Giving him the brief hope of a reprieve.

"If the other foremen have the modicum of sense to follow my orders, a hole has already been dug." Father says brightly.

The other two foremen hurry over to a part of the construction site, pulling a tarp away, revealing a hole, just barely over the depth of the unfortunate man by my calculations, the walls and bottom lined in a thin layer of cement.

"Sir… P-please!" Takito begs. "I have a daughter!"

I wince slightly, he should not have tried begging and he should have definitely not brought up his daughter. My father did not do mercy.

My father laughs, slapping Takito on the shoulder. "Why didn't you say so? It shouldn't be a problem to dig a few feet more, so she can join you!"

"N-no! P-please!" Takito cries as every man, strong muscled, able bodied men. Stand there. And do nothing. The power my father has over men for something as fleeting as money. They could all rip him limb from limb, yet this is a feudal kind of society still. Civilians do not easily fight authority.

"Then get in the hole,Takito." My father says pleasantly. Stroking my cheek with a thumb gently. I hide my revulsion, I've had plenty of practice.

Takito voluntarily climbs down into the hole, to avoid his daughter joining him. Crying and whimpering softly. The hole reached just above his head.

My father turns to me. "Well daughter. You will choose the manner of his death. One is slow and humiliating, one is quick and pain free. These men will learn to fear you the same as me one day. And always you'll remember this." He grips my neck, hard enough that I can't breathe, "That you'll always be owned by me!"

He waits until my vision starts to go black, to release me. I no doubt have a bruise all across my throat right now. "H-how do I pick?" I cough out, my throat sore.

My father puts both hands behind his back, grinning maliciously. "Pick an arm, one hand holds a pain free death, one does not!"

I am not a fool. There is no way this ends in a pain free death. My father likes his games a little too much.

I pick his right arm, my father shakes his head sadly. "Sorry, Takito. I did what I could. My darling daughter picked pain and humiliation."

He brings me to the edge of the hole. And before my eyes, he unzips his pants, and urinates into the hole. A pleased sigh escaped him.

Takito is begging now. As my father looks over at the construction workers. "Well… Get to it." He says, giving them no doubt of what he's expecting of them.

I hide my disgust behind a blank facade. Not only at the horrendous way to kill a person. The fact I have to watch all these men whip it out, all of them seemingly more horrified doing that in front of me, then the murder they're all partaking in. I've profiled serial killers in my past life that seem like lambs compared to my father.

Of course it's not enough in the end for filling the hole and drowning a man, it was never supposed to be, it was a play, forcing the men to take part. Terrifying them for life. My dear father was prepared to finish it of course. A container with collected animal urine being dumped in, everyone watching a man drown in urine.

There was never a single project delay or overrun of costs ever again from that village. Including the farm quotas. Which considering the dry summer was literally impossible… likely meant the village turned to banditry to cover the shortage. In the end my father gets exactly what he wants.

＊＊＊

There were many such instances, the ninja's if they knew about it, did nothing. And I couldn't imagine they didn't know. Likely my father and the clan brought in so much money in trade and taxes that Konoha couldn't care less about some brutalized or killed civilians now and then. As long as it was kept fairly quiet.

I could talk by now of course, although I keep it brief with my father, not wishing to showcase intelligence over what he already believed I possessed. The man was obsessed with me being his perfect heir already. Cut from the same cloth as him, intelligent and able to read body language naturally. I'd be a deal maker and a boon to the clan. Or so he regularly tells me. I haven't seen my mother again at all after my father took over my care and education. Smart woman really. She can definitely see what kind of man my father is, and she stays away from me as well, perhaps my father wasn't the only one seeing similarities.

After so long I finally managed to create chakra strings. Over a year and a half of obsessively working on them every minute I could, I have borne success. Constantly creating more thin strings and weaving them around each other until it became a matter of a thought to create a thick - invisible to the naked eye - chakra string. Of course that was still only half the battle won. I have ideas of what parts of the brain to target, but I could not use my father as a guinea pig. I need him intact. Besides, as insane as he was, I don't want to accidentally trigger something to make him worse. Kami, I have a hard time imagining worse.

My caretakers were the unfortunate test subjects. My father keeps me fairly isolated still. With tutors or himself for lessons and with my caretakers for my needs. Messing with the brains of my tutors would be counterproductive. I have three caretakers. I pick one to remain free to take care of me, in case I ruined the others. Something that turns out to be a good choice…..

＊＊＊

I was alone with Kaede who was reading me a book, regular nonsense about the peace brought by the great Senju. Typical Konoha propaganda. At least her constant reading had clued me into the fact I was born before canon. Mostly from there being no mention of the third Shinobi war yet.

As she reads, I am concentrating on my chakra. I twist it into a chakra string and slowly, my eyes focus on my clueless caretaker, I attach it to her chakra system. My brain floods with information about her chakra, pitiful as it is. About how she is feeling - content, at the moment - happy to be in my presence. And a general idea of her health. I doubt this is a normal consequence of chakra strings and I wonder if I have somehow attached my sensing abilities into my creation of the strings.

Either way I still have something I need to do. I send my chakra to the chakra pathways of the brain. Blinking in shock as Kaede cuts off mid sentence and drops to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. I Immediately lose my chakra string as it slips out of her system. I groan silently, looking down on the unseeing eyes of Kaede. She was still breathing. I felt how tiny and undeveloped her chakra system was, yet I did practice enough caution, I rushed my chakra to her brain in excitement, and probably absolutely flooded it. Overwhelming her own chakra. No doubt that kind of saturation of another's chakra was bad for the brain.

I tilt my head in thought. It probably wouldn't work on a ninja… But I have basically just discovered a way to cause brain death in any civilian. A useful skill. Yet… how would I explain this. I can not claim training, or a chakra exercise gone wrong. I'm not supposed to even know what that is. Nor am I under any circumstances allowed to become a ninja.

In the end I was forced to go tell my father that Kaede had collapsed. He followed me back and knelt by her body. Turning her over, leaning down and looking into her eyes. My chakra sense could feel that he wasn't upset at his findings, that he was proud, somehow attributing her condition to me. And also aroused. It disgusted me, how seeing anyone harmed never failed to excite him. I might not feel much for anyone, but at least I didn't take pleasure from their harm.

"Inohana-chan, what did you do?" He asks softly, tilting her head back and forth. Kaede's normally vibrant eyes are vacant.

I scrunch my brows slightly and frown at him, "didn't do anything." I say, trying to appear confused and petulant.

He chuckles, fascinated, "Hmm, either you are a very good liar…" He leaves it at that however, reaching up and ruffling my hair, before he grabs Kaede's arms and drags her out of the room with him. Still chuckling. I decide to be more careful from now on.

I could have done without the animalistic sounds from the next room over as my father used a basically dead person for his own pleasure. At least he didn't do it in front of me this time…

So my first attempt at attaching a chakra string to Kaede and invading her chakra system with my own chakra led to me oversaturating her brain and making her a vegetable. So… Not ideal.

＊＊＊

Again my father had shown his usefulness by getting rid of my caretaker with no one asking any questions, and hiring a new one. I don't know what my father believes happened, he seems to believe something. Surely he didn't suspect my chakra abilities. Although I have a feeling he'd have been perfectly fine with finding out I poisoned or otherwise induced her vegetative state. He has a major distaste for ninja in general however, so I could not allow him to become aware of my abilities. Further experimentation went much slower from then on, as I introduced miniscule amounts of Chakra at a time, not wanting a repeat.

Months and months pass by, I was now using whatever alone time I had to lightly work out, nothing too strenuous, just working my toddler muscles on flexibility routines and stretches. Working on dexterity and flexibility over anything more strenuous until I had a teacher who could show me the proper way forward.

Slowly my implanted suggestions in my caretaker's brains started becoming more subtle and more effective. My chakra control grew to the point I could pinpoint exactly what my chakra was doing at any time, constant chakra manipulation over the last few years having worked wonders. Even my minimal pool of chakra had grown to… slightly less minimal if I'm honest. I was likely never going to have a large chakra pool. Honestly I have a feeling Sakura will have more chakra then I will at this rate. And well… Hokage's apprentice or not, she was always kind of pathetic. Hopefully I did not end up the same.

Shortly before my 4th birthday I knew I had succeeded when I induced one of the girls to call my father a weak, small minded bully - A cruel thing to do perhaps, but necessary - With their fear of my father at the forefront of their minds, they would never do such a thing on their own. If nothing else her fear would have stopped any weaker suggestions to the contrary. So I was finally strong enough. I have succeeded. Of course a girl was dead, probably two, as Kaede was likely disposed of as well, back when. Yet they'd hardly be the only bodies I would have to step over in the end. My father was probably rubbing off on me too much…

I pick my 4th birthday as the day of my attack. The day starts with a tedious party at our clan estate where I was finally introduced to the clan, having to sit politely and accept numerous useless civilian gifts for little girls. More dresses than I could possibly wear even if I wore a different one every day. It appears my father's pride in me has spread throughout the clan, if the amount of ass kissing and gift giving I was receiving was any sign.

Our clan grounds were of a decent size, most spectacularly, the main building was built out of Hashirama wood. Our purple clan color is visible everywhere, in banners, flags, clothing, even down to the napkins. The trimmings of wealth are on display, imported rugs from the other side of the elemental nations, crystal goblets, and golden silverware. It was so horrendously ostentatious. I honestly longed for the ability to set things on fire with my mind, this all disgusted me. This pointless extravaganza. Why were they even trying to display power, when the slightest baby genin could kill them all while sleepwalking.

Although I suppose they do have the money to hire someone to deal with such issues. Even though my father rarely hires ninjas.

I smile politely and try to hide my excitement. Having to take some deep breaths to soothe my system, as I wish to just rip into my father's mind right now, when I would need subtlety and privacy. Now that the day has arrived I find that all of my patience is suddenly running out. Fidgeting in my seat as I wait for the party to finish, knowing my father would want to give his own gift in private in his office afterwards. I never enjoyed his gifts.

If only I could murder him, I would simply for those.

My father brings me into his office an hour after he had seen the last guest away. He sits behind his desk and looks at me seriously. Waiting for me to explain myself, my agitated state was not something he had seen often. I was generally cold, like him. He would no doubt demand an explanation. Today. For the first time. I could demand from him.

Gleefully, I spin a chakra string, attaching it to him and sliding through the chakra pathways in his brain, overriding control of his higher functions, subtly adding orders and processes making it seem obvious that of course he would follow the orders of his daughter when it came to becoming a ninja. She was so much smarter than him. She'd know best. It was only logical.

"You'll hire a ninja to teach me and prepare me for joining the academy for the next session, a good one, no matter what it costs." I order, unable to keep a smirk down. It has taken years of work on nothing but chakra control, but I have managed to achieve something as amazing as being able to suggest something, and force a person's brain to think it's an amazing idea. And keep them that way. This was so different from my old life. Just by hard work I could make a civilian do anything I wanted. This feels like power. Maybe one day I'd be strong enough to do the same to ninja!

My father nods amicably, a weird look for him. Even in negotiations, he just didn't do nice. "Of course, anything you need, Inohana."

I actually do a little dance right there in the office, nervous excitement bleeding off me. I clear my throat, glad my father was just staring at me attentively and doesn't comment on my lapse in control. That would have been humiliating if he was in his right mind at the moment.

"You will announce to the clan that I will become a great ninja, and bring pride to the clan, you'll ensure I'm supported. I need an expense account for weapons and ninja clothes." I start ordering, knowing my chakra could only enforce suggestions for so long before I'd need to pull back. "Also put out an offer to buy Genjutsu scrolls on the black market. I'm sure you know a way. Don't spend the entire clan's fortune, but buy anything you can get your hands on while keeping the clan profitable." I finish, ensuring my father doesn't go hog wild and bankrupt us. I'll be interested to see if offering money for Genjutsu would work. With my spiritual Chakra I could really use actual genuine Genjutsu and not just whatever I try to make work.

"Of course my darling, I'll make sure the clan doesn't suffer, and you'll be an amazing ninja. As expected by someone so intelligent as my daughter." My father says, while grinning happily, which really creeps me out. I cancel my chakra string, withdrawing my chakra from his system. Warily keeping an eye for any change. My caretakers had kept their changes, but my father was vastly more intelligent and cruel than them.

To my relief he gives me leave to go practice being a ninja while he writes up a mission request for a ninja tutor. For now it seems it holds. I would have to be careful to reapply it as necessary. I could not have him loose again.

I'll have to badger my ninja tutor to get me the academy texts early. I intend to blow everyone's mind. One year, I'll match Hatake Kakashi for his record. I found out during gossip at my birthday party that he had just entered the academy and was already impressing. So I was about a year younger than Kakashi. I could work with that.

Of course Hatake Sakumo would probably kill himself within the year and the third Shinobi war was probably going to start up anyday now so, that would be… interesting.

I wonder who my father could get as a tutor while people were preparing for a war.

＊＊＊

Authors Note:

So not the best family to be born into. This will obviously have an effect throughout the story, most of the more unpleasant little segments with her father will be mostly done by chapter 8, then only visited briefly for the rest of the story until it comes to a head. For those worried this abuse will be the main focus, it is not.

Once she joins the academy the civilian aspect falls off a bit.

If you have questions, opinions, want to know more about anything. Feel free to ask, and I'll try and answer if it isn't too spoiler-ish.

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus