Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto.

Author's note: Um, I've recently started writing again. Thought I'd give this a try.

Reincarnation was an incredible thing.

It was also very selfish.

As a child, she dreamed she'd land herself back again on earth with her memories intact, to live in the knowledge that she could start over and do things the right way, and that pain would be secondary; joy would not.

But, like all things, it came at too high a price.

In hindsight, that should have been her first warning.

You live and you die. And for her, it was never in that order.

Edra was young, too young when she collided with death just moments before having pushed a little boy out of the way of incoming traffic.

No, she had cried before the agony ripped through her body violently. Pain exploded behind her eyes – a ricocheting sensation that rattled her bones and blew her sky high. Her body was thrown back onto the concrete with a sickening crunch. The crack of her bones jutted against bleeding skin resounded loudly as the screech of tires came to an abrupt stop.

The boy screamed. Her head was pounding and her thoughts –no! no! no! no! —halted as the clap of death squeezed down her lungs. Quick, shallow breaths. Blown, wide eyes stare unseeing at the ordinary blue sky; blue like her mother's eyes, cloudless and calm.

But hers were a bleeding black.

(she feels rough hands pry her from the asphalt, but all she could taste is the iron blood violently drowning her under a black-blue haze. Her raw throat an echo of her dying screams).

When Edra wakes, it is to the familiar smell of her mother's baking filling underneath the cracks of her worn-down door.

It isn't morning yet –it's near dawn, and for once, the familiar scent brings her back to the present, instead of reminding her of the clawing nightmare that has plagued her since she first became aware.

She had lived through it more times than she could count. Death is a funny thing, she briefly lets the thought through. But it isn't cruel, a voice whispers at the back of her mind.

Edra (her name isn't Edra here, she wants to remind herself, but doesn't) stifles a yawn, rubbing at her eye as she surveyed the room. The curtains were drawn only slightly with a bit of yellow-white lights sifting through in-between. Boxes of unpacked things were placed haphazardly to the side. A dresser was wedged between a vanity desk and the door of her small bathroom that had been left opened last night.

All in all, her room was small but not so much that she felt trapped. The apartment she lived in now with her mother was as small but still spacious, without a kitchen, however. They lived on top of their Bakery shop, using the facilities – like the kitchen and laundry room – that came with the building.

It's the only thing they could afford for now; with the bills, the loans, and not to mention the costs of buying fresh ingredients, Edra and her mother were lucky to have a place to sleep, eat, and shower.

But life was good. The people loved sweets, and they absolutely adored her mother's recipes. That, Edra thinks idly, and because her mother refuses to cater to ninjas.

(Not all ninjas that pass through the bakery doors are dressed as such; some blend in surprisingly well in civilian clothes; others, at least those with quite a reputation know they cannot pass unnoticed. They are the ones who know to stay away).

"Stay away from them, Inori-chan. They bring nothing but death."

She didn't look up until her mother's hand was gripping her shoulder and turning her away from the window; she had been scanning the roof of the flower shop with a curious gleam in her eyes, having caught sight of figures parkouring freely in the wee hours of the morning.

Her mother's voice was tight with tension, but Edra could only register the fact that she could feel the slight and unnatural flares coming from the ninjas jumping on the rooftops as they moved away from her line of sight.

Her mother tugged at Edra's curls with a free hand while letting out an impatient sigh. "Do you hear me, Inori? Don't ever get near them, not even for a friendly chat. They are not your friends."

"Okay. I will not seek them out," agreed the little girl with an absent nod of her head.

A relieved smile replaced the frown on her mother's lips as she said in a pleased tone, "Good girl. Come away from the window now. It's time we start practicing your calligraphy. I have no idea where'd you pick up that horrendous habit of misplacing…" As her mother's voice drifted off in the background, Edra glanced behind her and briefly caught the sight of a blond head before turning away, letting herself get lead towards the backroom with an almost put upon expression flitting across her features.

Her mother really shouldn't be trying to pass on her prejudice attitudes down to her daughter. It is completely doing the opposite of stamping down her curiosity.

Edra, of course, won't approach, but who is to say they won't approach her first? And she had agreed she will not seek them out, not that she wouldn't talk to them.

Ninjas. When Edra first woke up in a new life, with all her memories intact, she hadn't realized she stumbled into the world of Naruto. She knows she's in a time before the Fourth ascended, but not much else. Well, she knows there's talk of war, knows there are skirmishes along the borders of smaller nations, and the tensions between all five nations were at all-time high now more than ever.

So, before the third war. Possibly before the White Fang –Sakumo Hatake –becomes the catalyst. And isn't that just great?

She's five and a half. And tiny. And knew very well that her death only happened because she risked her life to save a little boy. Edra's too selfish now (too scared) to do it again.

Edra doesn't know how she will survive knowing it was all going to happen. I'm a civilian, she reminds herself quietly. I won't matter in the grand scheme of things anyway; so, why should I care?

It was a new life, and she should learn to just go with the flow. Stay the civilian, keep away from the front-lines, and do not give them a reason to notice you.

(If only it was that simple).

Presently, however, since it was dawn and her mother was baking, she needed to get up before her mother decides to forcibly drag Edra downstairs, pajamas and all.

Shifting the blankets away from where they had pooled at the knees, she stretches and feels her jaw lock in place before swiftly sliding off the bed. It takes a while. Her body is tiny, half the sized she'd been when she first died, and with all the clumsy strides of a toddler barely passed five.

Five again, she grumbles as she dresses in a dark blue sweater (it once belonged to her older brother who died before she was born) and sweats. She forgoes the typical yukata; it was a Saturday, and her mother doesn't open the bakery until much later in the day, which meant she was free for the whole morning until the afternoon comes around.

It also meant freedom with what she wore.

Peeking out between the curtains, she eyed the closely-stacked rooftops of the buildings and then glanced between them, letting her eyes roam the empty streets. The stalls were closed. But she could briefly make out light behind shutters and windows. As dim as they were, Edra knows some have taken the opportunity to start the day before they opened their stores.

Her eyes find what they were looking for. Yamanaka Flowers, family-owned and ran by the eldest son who was head of the clan. And already looked to be opening –though that won't be for some time—going by the suspiciously fair-haired couple ambling inside the shop behind the shutters.

She could see their shadows.

Surprisingly, her mother and his mother –Inoichi Yamanaka's mother, that is –were very good friends back in the day, and still were.

Edra wonders what made her mother hate ninjas, in general really, as she's never seen her mother direct any anger to anyone specific.

She shrugged. It doesn't matter. She doesn't care.

Two hours later, she's watching her mother knead the dough before Edra's sticks her fingers of her own and trying –failing –to hide her disdain for it.

She's not a baker. Sweets are her favorite things, but the mess is what gets to her. The flour gets everywhere. The chocolate gets eaten before she could temper it. And her mother always never makes her favorite!

Okay. Maybe she's being childish about this. Edra curses her tiny frame, her stupid and wild emotions; just because she has the mind of an adult, didn't mean she wasn't at the mercy of her child body.

Everything was off balanced. Her strides were less confident. Her emotions were easily placed and displayed far too frequently on her face for it to be comfortable –being five and young was starting to get old real fast, really quick.

"You're frowning again, love," came her mother's voice. There was a hint of laughter in her tone.

Edra paused and glanced up at her. Hunched over and with wisps of hair coming from free from their confines, her mother taps Edra's nose with a flour-covered finger.

"What frown?" she asked, forcing a wobbly smile on her lips. It's only just quivered under the strain of it. "Who's frowning now? Not me."

"Neh, Inori-chan, you are so cute. Are you getting tired?"

Edra scrunches her expression to look like she was becoming frustrated, and to her mother, it only made the little girl look adorable. "No," the little girl replied stubbornly.

Her mother scoffs playfully at her response, lifting her hands away from the dough in front of her to push a lock of silver hair behind her ear. "Go on and take a break. Take something to eat while you're at it. I know it's not your favorite way to pass the time, but maybe it'll do you some good," said her mother with a 'shooing' motion of her hand. "Just don't take the strawberries from the fridge –those are for the rice cakes I'm going to be making today."

She takes the girl's dough and settles it beside the other one while gesturing Edra towards the other side of the room with a pointed look.

"I don't like walking," protested the girl.

"It's not a long walk, Inori."

Edra pouted, and her mother simply smiled in amusement. The girl huffed and slid off the stool –slow and steady as to not fall.

She's half across the room when she's struck with a thought. It's nearly time. "Do I take the samples with me?"

"Samples, love?" Her mother asks, frowning confusingly at her.

"It's nearly seven-thirty, Okaa-san –and its Saturday. Don't we usually take samples down at the orphanage for the children?"

Every Saturday, she remembers. Her mother has always had a soft spot for children without parents, growing up as an orphan herself.

A frown pulls at the edge of her mother's lips. "I haven't finished the bread, Inori-chan. If you wait, I can—"

"I can do it," Edra cuts in quickly, ducking her head when her mother shoots her another frown—though it was more of a reflex at the idea of her going alone than any true anger. Backtracking, she adds slowly, "I mean, it isn't far. I won't get lost, I promise. And I've got a map!" She hated how high her voice sounded—so child-like. And very manipulative.

Her mother's expression shifts as she lets out a hum; she's not worried that her little girl's going to get lost because Inori's done it before. After all, her daughter was smart and acted very mature for a girl her age. Inori knows not to wander off—especially when its morning and there's hardly anyone out and about.

With another slow hum, her mother nods and agrees.

Edra quickly tugs at the handle of the fridge. Inside she finds two pink boxes that are stacked neatly on top of each other, with a pretty bow wrapping them together. The first box, the one on the bottom, was a bit bigger than the one on top. And thankfully, when she pulled the boxes in her arms, weren't heavy enough to topple her over as she elbowed the fridge door closed.

"Don't stay out too long -wait until I arrive, okay? And do come back right after if I don't," her mother said firmly. "I don't want to hear or see another one of those people coming to tell me you've snuck into their yard to pet their cats again. It's unbecoming."

Edra reddens at the memory of it.

She lifts up her hand again, intent on running her fingers down the cat's back when a voice spoke up from behind her, forcing her to freeze on the spot. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Reflexively, she cocks her head to the side and strains to feel their energy brimming beneath their skin –only to pick up on nothing –before inwardly shaking her head.

She slowly turns on the spot and nearly chokes on her words at the sight of a disapproving man facing her.

Brilliant, dark eyes stared back. She fumbles briefly for her voice, "Oh—um. I'm…trying to pet this cat?"

"You are in our compound, surely, you've realized this?"

Instantly, she tried to explain, "It ran in here! I followed it without thinking about it," she stammered, visibly deflating as the man narrows his eyes at her in mute disbelief. "In hindsight, that wasn't a very good idea, was it?" The last part was muttered underneath her breath, but she was sure he heard it too, going by the sudden tensing of his shoulders soon after.

The Uchiha –she winced when she realized why his appearance looked vaguely familiar –pursed his lips. "How did you even get past security? No, do not answer that. Come," he grabbed her by the shoulder, careful to keep his hold gentle, and steered her towards the gates, "I will escort you home myself. I do not tolerate trespassers."

Edra shouldn't have followed that damn cat. Why did she think it was a good idea to chase after it? She grumbled beneath her breath, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as she was practically dragged home. Everyone was staring.

Her mother will never let her live this down. Never.

"That was one time," Edra grumbles under her breath as she pouted at the ground.

"What was that young lady?"

Edra hastily makes her way out the room, ignoring her mother's comment. She wasn't going to do that again. Never, she whispered to herself fiercely.

(she was a cat owner, through and through. And it got her in a lot of trouble sometimes).

When she catches sight of a stray curl of a cat's tail briefly from the corner of her eyes – the same cat she had followed a week before–Edra nearly groans out loud at the unfairness of it all.

She stifled the urge to go after it, honestly debating with herself.

This…will take a while.

Fuck.

Honestly, this happened to me. I broke into my neighbor's yard just to pet a damn cat. I should not have done that lmao

R & R

Thank you for reading. I don't have a beta, so I'm might not catch all of my mistakes and what not. Constructive criticism is welcomed; flames are not.

P.s.: My OC will not become a ninja. She's going to be a civilian, no matter what, but she won't be completely hopeless either.