This is the second SI that I'm attempting. Inspiration for this one came from reading all the other very good ones on this site, and if any of those authors are reading this, than I really hope you enjoy it.

. . .

I suppose that you're all wondering who I am.

If, perhaps, that I have a story.

Well, my mother always used to tell me that to tell a story, it was always best to start at the beginning.

I'm already at the end of my story, but for your benefit, I'll start from the beginning.

My name is Kira, though that wasn't always my name.

Before I came to this world, I mean.

I had heard that there were others like me, but throughout my life, I never came across them.

I was alone and shadowed.

Every story has a beginning, and this is mine.

. . .

I was panicking.

I had no idea what was happening.

The last thing I remembered was mind-splitting pain. An icy coldness had come over my body, and I was numb. I remembered sinking into the blackness tickling the edges of my mind, surrendering to it fully, as well as the alarming realisation of what had happened to me.

I had died.

I was dead.

Everything after that was a huge blank, but then, something happened. I wasn't sure what had happened, only that, somehow, I felt warm.

Safe.

It felt as if I were enclosed in a warm, loving embrace, the strong arms shielding me from everything evil and bad that this world could possibly produce.

I didn't know how long those arms held me for, but it felt like years. But I didn't mind the waiting. It allowed me to think on what could have been.

I was dead.

But, in here, it didn't feel like it.

I could still remember the cold, icy tingles that had engulfed my body, the numb, and the panicked thoughts of, Oh, God, please, no. I can't die yet. Don't let me die!

In here, those thoughts were all but wiped away. I had no need to think of those horrors.

I was safe.

I was safe.

And in an instant, all of that was ripped away from me in a frazzled mess of painful squeezing and piercing light.

I was terrified.

Somehow, this seemed even more traumatising than dying, though I didn't know how.

I screamed.

It was high and piercing, cracking right in the middle, and that noise only made me scream harder- it only made me cry harder.

I didn't know what was happening, and I was so, so scared.

It didn't help when something scratchy and itchy wrapped around me, muffling my cries.

My mind could only come to one conclusion.

Was I being drowned?

I began wriggling furiously, still screaming.

In response, I heard some jumbled, disjointed words, and my blood ran cold, my struggling stopping altogether. There was a soft sigh at my ears. I imagined that I could hear a smile in that voice. Then-

"Kira-chan?"

I was pressed against something warm, the scratchy thing still wrapped around me. My terrified mind was numb, just like moments before my demise. I was confused.

My eyes twitched open.

The world was a blur of colour.

I screamed again, tears streaming down my cheeks.

What was happening?

I felt the world around me move, and then I was lowered onto something soft and big. I still couldn't see anything, and when something big wrapped around me, that was when I went stock-still.

I heard a soft voice speaking an unfamiliar language, the only thing I could recognise was a single word: Kira.

Kira? Who was Kira?

Was that me?

I had just died, and I still didn't understand what was going on, only that I was nestled in the arms of something big and giant.

Oddly, it reminded me of the arms that had held me only moments before- the arms that had kept me safe for had felt like years.

I did the only thing that made sense to me.

I drifted.

. . .

When I next woke, I was still wrapped in that strange scratchy thing- it had to be some sort of fabric, I suppose.

My vision was still as blurry as it had been the last time I was awake and it irritated me to some extent. But one question laid true to my mind.

Just what had happened to me?

I had died.

I had even felt it- felt the icy coldness engulfing my body. And then the numbness. So, for all intents and purposes, I had died.

I was dead.

So why was I still alive?

Why could I see, hear, and feel?

I clumsily brought my hand to my face, experimentally waving my fingers. My eyes got a full show of short, fat, and pudgy fingers. They moved when I did.

I screamed.

I attempted to kick off the fabric wrapped around, but it was bound far too tightly, and all I succeeded in doing was getting it tangled with my legs.

There was an alarmed voice, and then, all of a sudden, there was nothing but air beneath me, and that served to only agitate me more.

Soothing, unfamiliar words were uttered into my ears, and though I couldn't understand a single word of it, it strangely calmed me down.

I stopped screaming my head off, and, oddly enough, stuffed a hand into my mouth.

A soft chuckle reached my ears, and what I now thought to be arms, pulled me closer to a solid warmth.

I closed my eyes as the voice washed over me. The only thing I could understand was a single word.

"Kira-chan."

I felt strangely sleepy, and, rather let the impending darkness scare me, I welcomed it gratefully.

Anything to get away from this confusing nightmare.

. . .

The next time I woke up, I was back in that bed?

I didn't know what it was. Maybe some sort of cradle?

The wrap from before was also still bound tightly around my form. Despite being scratchy against my skin, it was uncomfortably warm, seeming to trap all the heat in the world against my body.

I shifted awkwardly, and when the heat didn't abate, a small cry escaped from my lips. The cry grew louder until it was a full out wail. I didn't care much for embarrassment about crying- all I wanted was to get out of this damn blanket.

Liquid trickled down my cheeks, and I continued to cry.

A few moments passed. Then-

"Shh, Kira-chan," the same voice from before murmured into my ear.

I didn't want to be quiet, damn it! I wanted to get out of this blanket!

I didn't heed his words and continued to cry. A few moments later, I felt the air move, almost as if I were being rocked in the person's arms.

I tried to wiggle out of the blanket, and understanding seemed to dawn on the person, as a moment later, I was carefully unwrapped from the fabric.

Cold air hit my skin, and as I looked down at myself, I was overcome with shock and horror.

My body was a blurred mess, but there was no mistaking the giant arms wrapped around me, or even the tiny size of my own body.

I was a baby.

If that knowledge didn't make me want to shriek with horror, then it was when I was passed into the arms of another that something really settled in.

If I was a baby, then I would be breastfed.

Oh, the horror.

And I was.

It was extremely awkward and embarrassing for me, but I didn't complain- I couldn't complain.

I was a baby.

I was an adult stuck in the body of a baby.

. . .

Weeks later

I didn't think it was until I was a few weeks old and my sight cleared up that I finally accepted that I was a baby.

I was completely vulnerable- I couldn't walk, I couldn't talk, and I couldn't even sit up by myself.

I was useless in this state.

After I died, I reckon that the gods had decided to screw me over and shove me in this form, if only to spite me. But I couldn't remember if I ever did anything remotely bad during my past life to be cursed like this, but I should embrace this.

It was a new chance at life, and even though I couldn't really understand the language, I knew that I would adapt.

The language sounded familiar, too.

"Kira-chan?"

Mama had me seated on her lap, her arms secured around my stomach to keep me from falling over. She was whispering mindless nonsense to me, and I was as unresponsive as usual.

From the other end of the room, I heard happy giggling, louder than both Mama and Papa's voices combined.

Want to know who it was?

I had an older sibling, though I didn't know how old. He had been constantly dangled in my face right from when I had been born, but back then, my sight hadn't been as good as it was now.

I was a few weeks old and I could easily raise my head, wiggle my fingers and toes, and even smile.

I know, right?

Accomplishment.

I watched as Papa carried my older brother over, the toddler hanging from the man's arm and swinging happily.

He giggled again, and Papa chuckled softly.

He came to a stop in front of Mama, and the two exchanged a soft, loving smile.

It was obvious to me that the pair loved each other very much, even in the squalor that we lived in. Hell, they had even been able to have to kids in these conditions!

My big brother peered down at me with wide eyes, as if he hadn't ever seen me before. His face was soft and childish, emphasised by his large, dark brown eyes and short black hair.

"Haku-chan," Mama called in her soft, sweet voice.

I had no idea what she said after that, but that one word made me freeze.

Haku.

It could be a huge, misunderstood coincidence for all I know.

Yes, it probably was.

A coincidence, that is.

And if it wasn't…

Then I had just been reborn into the Narutoverse with Haku as an elder brother.

And as far as I know, Haku's entire family dies- with his father killing his mother, and then Haku himself killing his father.

Haku then wanders around for who knows how long, only to get picked up by Zabuza Momochi, who trains him to become a living weapon.

Haku remains incredibly loyal and faithful to Zabuza, and when Zabuza gets hired by Gato in the Land of Waves, it's where they both die.

So, technically, both Haku's and my futures were well and truly screwed.

That is, if Papa didn't kill us first.