บท 1: 1
--Yr 52--
These traumatic recollections are eerily similar to nightmares. They vanish when she is awake when she is truly there in the moment. They have no choice but to go once she truly opens her eyes and lets in daylight.
Those traumatic memories are books with chapters, deep and horrifying, which she put on the shelf to collect dust. Though as the night arises, those memories, breakthroughs, fill her mind. She missed them all, her family, her home… most of all she missed her love.
Satoshi Senju.
He would not have been there, the day her home was destroyed if it wasn't for her. He promised to see her again, even if it had meant a long trip to Uzushiogakure alone, so they could be together once again. The memories of it all were too painful.
When the past comes as risen rock and the future as ocean expanse, we leave our ledge, moving onward.
Closing her eyes, she notices a ghostly silhouette in the darkness. The shadow gradually transforms into a dusty, faint carnation. It shifts once more. Soon, it's a person's head on a steel tray, ready for the mortician to close up shop, as if they were a corpse.
Then it vanishes, leaving nothing but darkness in its wake. She wonders where the warmth is, and what future she should pursue, and she feels her lover's warm and soft hands on her shoulders. He exists in a nice area she needed to turn to, separate from my past, external to the grief and harm.
Perhaps she should finally allow death to take her after she should have died those days ago.
It's that day of drowning, here again, the cold wash only I can feel. I don't want to get up. I don't want to move at all. And at that moment it takes all the strength I have to make a good choice, to reach for an oxygen tank and take a breath - but without that how would the soul stay alive?
The darkness came as strong protective arms, holding her close until the promised dawn- yet when she opened her eyes again, it wasn't where she would have expected it. She was confused, her eyes set on the bright flame on the candle beside her, the fire crackling, swaying as a breeze flew in.
Her eyes then snapped to the man who was standing at the now opened door of the unfamiliar room. Her lips thinned into a line, as suspicion coursed her body.
He stood there awkwardly, surprised to see her awake. His hand filled with blankets, "You're awake" was what he said, it was simple, a statement, that didn't warrant any response.
Her violet eyes wandered around the room, the wooden walls, the small window that was beside the bed she was laid in. She slowly sat up, the stabbing pain in her chest resulting in a gasp to escape her lips.
He rushed to her, holding her steady, "You should be careful, it's still healing" he said gently, his voice above a whisper, she didn't flinch at his touch, merely nodded, knowing what wound the man was talking about.
The man was expecting something, anything… but the beautiful woman with red hair. It was long, reaching her waist, but instead of flowing with an inch of the moment, like the day he had found her, it was slightly stiff, in the two braids they were now in. He watched her touch them.
"I didn't do it" he blurted out, she turned to him, staring into his dark eyes. He looked flustered, "I- well, your hair. I didn't braid your hair. Do you need water? I can get you water, you must be feeling thirsty, you've been asleep for two days now," he told her.
Still no response, but nonetheless he rushes out, before placing the blankets on the edge of the bed. Her small hands ran over the fabric, they weren't the most expensive but they were still nice… and warm. She took one wrapping it around her shoulders as many questions ran through her head.
She had thought that once her eyes would open, she would see Satoshi but instead, she was faced with the unfamiliar.
He was back, holding a glass of water with both his hands. She looked out the window.
"You must be confused as to where you are… we're at a farm, my family farm," the man said, he let the silence settle as he gave her the glass.
"Where's your family?" she spoke, he finally heard her voice, it was low and delicate.
"They're dead."
She looked at him again, "My family are dead too." she responded, he nodded slowly, his eyes wandering around the room.
"You're an Uzumaki aren't you? I heard what happened, I'm sorry."
She nodded, not particularly wanting to remember. After all, she had been ready to die to be with them.
"I found you in the forest. Well, my dog found you, he ran towards the frost, never stopping I felt like I was chasing after him for ages, then he finally stopped and there you were, surrounded by what you would call a river… but it was your blood. There was so much of it I thought you were dead but you weren't… I brought you back here, and found a doctor in the village near, they helped." He told her.
"Thank you," she told him, emotion void from her voice.
She noticed how he shifted awkwardly, "Is there something else?" she asked, a brow raised.
"Well, I suppose there is. Uzumaki-san… Hiroto-sama said you are with child." The man said in a levelled voice, he saw how her hands moved to her stomach, her eyes widening. "With child?" she repeated back in a questioning toe, with one thing in her mind, 'Satoshi'.
She was carrying Satoshi's child. The happiness was overwhelming. She wouldn't be alone. Tears gathered in her eyes, but what was she to do now?
"You can… you can stay here Uzumaki-san- of course, if you want to, I live alone… I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, we can get to know each other- of course in a friendly matter… you can raise your child here. If you would like that."
She looked at him, for what seemed a long amount of time, the silence, embedded in the room.
A sigh escaped her lips, just as she was finally about to respond, "I would like that. Thank you for having me. I am truly grateful. I am Uzumaki Akia, eighteen years old." She told him, bowing her head in appreciation.
He smiled, "It's a pleasure to meet you Uzumaki-san. I am Suisha Daisuke, twenty years old."
--Yr 52—4, Nov--
The first thing that seemed to cross his mind when thinking of death… was how anticlimactic it was. He had always assumed it would be something more- feel like something more, yet it was just painful and cold.
There was no bright light greeting him to the other side, there were no flashbacks of his whole life, nothing of what he had come to regret nor anything of what he had found pride in, it was just nothingness, it was quiet- too quiet, but was that good or bad?
He had always felt somewhat alone, even though there were so many people that cared for him- but now here he was… dying.
It was as though nothing else mattered anymore other than the impenetrable darkness that enveloped him, slowly fading the life he had left in him.
He was truly dying; death was the end- his final destination.
It is the last breath you take, the last beat of a heart, the last sight as the light fades from your eyes- death was the end, and here it was, here to take him away.
'Maybe death is just a disguise, a disguise to scare humankind, by showing them nothing- by giving them nothing, maybe there is a new beginning after death. Death truly may be the start of a new cycle of life, if so, I hope for this to be my only cycle.' The young man thought with a small kind smile before death took his last breath away.
Wake up-
Was he dead?
What had happened to the coldness?
What had happened to the sinking feeling he had felt?
Coldness had enveloped him, but now? It was warmth that had decided to envelop him.
Wake UP-
He felt as though something was calling out to him, he couldn't- with a gasp, he was no longer in darkness, but greeted with a bright light. It welcomed him to his new life, a life he didn't wish for. He had been content, with what was his. He did not see the need for this.
His mouth opened wide, taking in a breath on he didn't think he could do ever again- he screamed. He felt so much sorrow, that he couldn't control his emotions, just as his memories of his past life seemed to flash through his mind, reminding him what he no longer had- what he took for granted.
He screamed at it all, at his fortune and misfortune, at the unforgettable memories, at the unfairness- which was life. He had been grateful for it, but he was not grateful for being forced into a new life. He cried- no mourned the life he had and the life he had lost.
Death was supposed to be the end for him, he wanted it to have been.
A second chance had been given to him. Second chances were seen as a blessing, something not to be taken for granted.
Life had given him a chance to live longer, was life trying to correct the wrong? Had his life not lasted enough? Yes, he had lived a short-lived life, but he was okay with it, he didn't need this.
He felt the cold air brush against him, he could hear loud voices going back and forth- he hated it, his new sensitive ears couldn't stand it.
He flailed his tiny weak arms, screaming his small lungs out continuously. He considered this second chance as a curse, but maybe he was wrong- maybe he just needed time.
He heard a soft hum from above him- it was nice, calming. He oddly found himself calming down, his lungs burning from the continuous cries of sorrow, his eyes tired from crying. Finally, the crying that was heard had stopped.
He just wanted to rest- he felt a comforting warmth surround him as he grew tired, his surroundings were blurred he couldn't see, he felt a headache begging to arise from the strain on his eyes and he tried hard to see all around him.
He could hear voices around him, he couldn't understand- was it because he was tired? Yes, that was it.
The voices were no longer as lively as previously but had seemed to calm down as though their problem had been resolved.
He closed his blurry eyes and concentrated on listening to the soft humming and let himself drown in the warmth that embraced him as he was rocked back and forth gently.
A new life is more like a path to adventure with a degree of fog and chill than a present with gorgeous ribbons and assurance of comfort. As a result, it requires an adventurous heart, daring feet, and bold eyes to grasp it, navigate it, and remain open to its curves and undulations. If there were any other way, people would not live such unfulfilling lives from birth to death. Accepting the feeling of danger and risk as one aims for the far horizon is the key to gaining more.
--Yr 53—5, Jul--
He found being a child somewhat relaxing and difficult at the same time. 8 months had passed since he had been reborn in a new world, and his vision gradually became clearer just as the world around him did, it was clear that this world was different from the one he had been in before.
It was strange being in a new world, more so he couldn't tell if he hated it or not. The world he seemed to have been reborn into wasn't as advanced as the world he was forced to leave was. This world was somewhat more… quiet? He wasn't sure how to describe it seeing as he hasn't seen anything other than the small home, he now lived in.
All he saw were the small old dry walls, which had mould lurking in the corners and was only getting worse with time. He would occasionally stare idly at the splintered wooden floors.
Even the windows weren't exactly 'clean,' with the yellow tint and blurry splotches that made him wonder what had caused them- it was clear that this wasn't going to be a life of luxury.
Although after living in their world for the amount of time that he has, no matter what, he couldn't find it in himself to hate this new family of his.
It wasn't their fault for his presence here, He didn't want them to replace the family he had, but over the first weeks, he knew he was wrong. He couldn't deprive this family of the wonders of having a child, he couldn't have them believe their child hated them- so he acted like one at least he tried to some extent.
Being a baby… had its disadvantages with his coordination being appalling. He passingly remembered the times he played tennis for leisure, he missed being able to use his hands properly, he missed walking, running- He missed everything.
The only thing he found himself good at was making vague gurgling sounds at his new mother- his new family. He had no control over his tongue, it was completely useless when he tried to actually pronounce words that weren't just gibberish, and it didn't help that he couldn't understand a thing that was said around him.
The language was foreign, but as time went on, he was able to recognise specific words but not much.
It was a slow start, he just wished it were English. The language sounded like Japanese, which he was not familiar with, ut of course he knew those simple words, such as mother, father, all the stuff you heard people say in animes. The easy words, but that was all he was familiar with.
The language was different from what he was used to which was English, but he was glad he was able to quickly adjust to the language barrier, even if there were still a few words in their sentences that had him confused.
He had a mother and a father.
His mother had the reddest of hairs- it wasn't ginger it was simply red. A colour you would describe blood, it was blood-red, it was simply fascinating and captivating, perhaps the colour of her hair was what helped his eyes focus faster than he imagined it would.
All he did when she was near was stare at her hair, it was… unnatural? Though it looked natural, but of course, there is something called dying your hair. She was beautiful, with the kindest of smiles.
When she would put him to sleep, she would sing the most beautiful tune, he wasn't sure what was being said, what the words that made up the songs were saying but he just enjoyed listening to her tone, perfectly pitched.
It was relaxing, really allowing him to enjoy that moment, while he had yet to properly move around by himself.
Her eyes… they were just as different as her hair, violet. They were violet, they were captivating.
His father didn't have that red hair his mother had, nor the unique eyes she seemed to have.
He has brown hair, nearing black. His hair was the brown of aged mahogany, rich and deep, yet with the subtle hues only time brings. With each stride the strands tumbled, reflecting the strengthening daylight in waves.
His eyes were brown.. perhaps hazel. His eyes weren't like the wet bark on the oaks, but more of the soft brown rings that gave away the age of the few they felled.
After some time, in this new world, he was in. He had come to love them both. It was very different from what he was used to. He was used to absentee parents, who loved their work more than spending time with their own child, but he never resented them for it, their work was a passion.
Just as all those hobbies he enjoyed were his passion, they kept him busy- occupied.
These parents weren't like his last ones, they were always around. They actually lived on a farm, which upon finding out, Kiyoshi wasn't too sure about it… a farm? He wasn't used to such an environment, but he had to get used to it with how his father would carry him around while he did work.
Though it was fascinating watching him work, never once had he seen the man raise his voice, he was always smiling, a cheerful man he was. It was like all he needed was his family and his farm, nothing could possibly replace that.
The breeze swirls among the wheat, among the lovely golden ears. It still moves his hair and the sea of June grass. There is an eternity in each second on the farm, a thrill that comes from the unfettered songbirds, and a steadfastness to their heart and soul. And the simple Earth, that beautiful rich brown that brings it all together with the sunshine, is there to support it all.
It was their home.
It was a month later that he realised why this world was strange… it was because it was the Naruto universe, it was confusing- no it was hard to comprehend, to understand to even believe but he really was in the Naruto world.
It took a while to understand where he was, that he was in the Naruto world. That made sense- the language barrier, he couldn't understand much of what they say… but he heard 'ninja' at some point, the word sounded familiar yet he wasn't able to understand what it meant, nor did he have the capability and words to ask what it meant.
With being forced to do nothing with his lumps of limbs that could barely do anything other than crawl, even so, he would still get tired after a measly 4 minutes and subject himself to sitting in one place.
He knew he was a fussy baby; he had always been a picky person, especially with food, it took him a while to adjust to his diet of 'milk'.
He truly missed proper food- he missed the fancy restaurants, the take always, oh how he longed for Mc Donald's, anything would be better than the food he was now forced to have to endure.
His new mother seemed to find it slightly amusing while he found it embarrassing- then there was his father would laugh rather loudly.
He would frown whenever he did, which resulted in the man calling him 'grumpy'. It took Kiyoshi to understand that word, but he did eventually.
There wasn't a time he hadn't spat the food out of his mouth. He couldn't help it, he felt like throwing up at times, but she was still patient. His father was there to clean it up, ruffling the hair he had on his hair, smiling at him, then his mother.
As time went by, he found himself loving her… the both of them, perhaps it was the longing he once had of having a true family that had now arisen with this new family of his. They were always around, never leaving him behind, for someone else to take care of him.
Which of course they did, they lived on a farm, he hardly doubted they could afford it, could they?
Their home was rather decent, it wasn't small, per se, nor was it big, it was just alright, with enough room for him to crawl around to inspect everything.
He couldn't lie he hated the house at first, he was used to more luxurious things, after all in his previous life he had been born into a rich family- one that spoiled him, which now he knows he took for granted.
The house- no home was theirs, so he was going to have to get used to it, it could have been much worse… right?
'Finally!' he thought as he finally stood up on his own, all the hard work had finally paid off, he couldn't help but be proud.
'Maybe this life will be better than the last, even though it is obvious this world isn't as advanced as my previous one. Since I have my memories, I guess I can play off my knowledge as being a child prodigy'.
He was standing in the kitchen, which was in fact the same room as the living room, they were just on separate sides of the room. He was holding onto the leg of the small dining table balancing himself up on his chubby feet- which took a lot of effort, which he wasn't used to.
With a few seconds passed, he grew tired and fell to the floor, with a sigh to follow. Crawling seemed to take much less energy out of him.
Moments later his mother walked into the room from her bedroom and grabbed him into her arms. It was time for his next meal, he started to wonder when he will be able to stop having to drink milk for his meals. Even though it was filling, he still wanted something more 'tasteful'. Although he wasn't too annoyed at having to drink milk, after all, he had spat out most of the other foods, she had given him to taste, so maybe milk was just okay for now.
He was rested in her arms, his mother held his bottle as he drank ever so slowly as usual, which never seized to amuse her. As usual, he couldn't stop staring at her beautiful red hair, while she fed him, he would always play with her long hair, it had always interested him at how red it was, he didn't know how to describe it, maybe 'blood red'?
'I wonder if my hair is the same as hers, that would be cool.' He couldn't help but think.
He let his chubby small hands wander through her long locks, while as usual, she was in distant thought with a sad look on her face.
Many minutes later he had finally finished the bottle, which she put away and started to adjust him in her lap, just then the house door opened, which averted his mother's gaze, he watched her smile through his sleepy eyes, knowing it was his father.
It hadn't been too long since he called him that. 'Tou-chan' that is, the man was beyond ecstatic hearing it, after recovering from confusion then shocked, then just pure happiness. He remembered after swinging him around like some ragdoll the man stopped turning his gaze to his mother.
That confused him, he heard them talk, nothing which he understood other than the name he was given.
He smiled again, after hearing what his mother had to say.
"Back already?" he heard his mother ask, as he struggled to keep his eyes open.
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