Enjoy!

Tweaked a little, kinda might be a rewrite?

Edit: April 30th, 2018, even bigger rewrite?

Disclaimer: Me love Naruto. No Naruto for me.

My life just took a wrong turn.

Fine, the wrong turn didn't lead me anywhere; it was a dead-end, if anything.

However, since I considered myself to be a half-full kind of gal, I'd settle with the wrong turn.

Thus I had a nice, quaint visit with so called reality who gave me a big ol' slap to the face.

It didn't occur to me until I died that, I died- No, it was after I was reborn that comprehension finally dawned me, my life had ended.

During this phase that I dubbed 'In-between death', I had a very surreal dream where I sadly pulled out my shrunken sweater that I'd stupidly shoved into the dryer. I realized I must've forgotten I dumped the sweater into my laundry basket; because a girl had to look good everyday and sue me if I didn't want to wear the same outfit twice. However, the sight of my small sweater didn't deter me from forcing my way into it. After all, it was my favorite sweater and I was too stubborn to let this article of clothing go to waste just yet.

Lo and behold, I found myself constricted beyond physical capabilities whilst gasping for air through the small knitted designs, not quite able to fit my head through the hole that was designed for said head and yet not able to pull back and out of the sweater.

Safe to say I was never the brightest light bulb in Ikea.

However, I didn't predict that this dilemma would last hours. I was honestly petrified, wondering if this would be how my life would end at the (metaphorical) hands of the triple x small sweater.

Later on I'd recall this memory and give a fond little chuckle and shake of my head admiring how utterly ridiculous I could be.

Yet, in that very instant it felt very real and very terrifying. My one thought being, oh god how can I walk out looking like this?

So there I was, no going forward or backwards, stuck in a limbo albeit making slow progress as the constriction continued further down my head. I could feel the relief wash down as I gave one last mighty pull and was promptly thrust into a world of light.

My eyes burned, everything was just too bright and yet I was jumping for joy, I did it! Me, the idiot, the stupid ass kid who decided to test the waters between life and death and literally pulled through the sweater of death.

I let out a breathless laugh, a happy, relieved sound unsuppressed by cynical thoughts of an eighteen year old female. However no sound was released, and so I curiously opened my eyes and was left speechless.

Well if huge giants hovered over top your form with metal instruments poking and prodding you here and there, I'd guarantee any sane person would be in confusion.

A sudden large jolt of pain erupted from my behind, and I had to give myself a few seconds to process what had just occurred. Someone had just slapped my ass, and no, I was by all means not okay with that.

Being unable to control my itty bitty brain, I exploded into screams of pure agony(oh woe is me!) which reassured the giants. They wrapped me in a scratchy towel and I was suddenly staring into the eyes of a dark haired woman. Images were blurred, and much of her words were indistinguishable especially when it felt as if someone had given me a darn good pair of earplugs.

I chortled and my hands instinctively went to grasp onto a strand of her hair, unsure of what to think other than that it was safe and everything was okay. Unable to keep myself awake after such a distressful ordeal- I mean the sweater was a serious problem, but turning into an infant was a whole other ordeal- I withdrew myself into a fitful sleep.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It was after quite some time that I finally accepted the reality that I was reborn.

But that didn't stop me from having screaming fits, nope. Interestingly enough, as a grown adult, I'd vent my anger through passive aggression and silence. Most of my anger was suppressed until one day I would snap and deliver the closest person a pitiful demise. However, since I was a baby and my problem transcended literal worlds, you could say I didn't give a shit anymore. And since I was an infant, I was limited to screaming and screaming.

Thus I resulted to screaming.

Reminiscing the past, I cringed and wondered how my parents restrained from strangling me in my sleep, or dumped my sorry ass at any old, decrepit orphanage. I sympathized especially for my father who would usually be the one to drag himself out of bed in the middle of the night to calm me down and it wasn't because he volunteered. Oh no, my mother had to give him what I dubbed 'the kick of honor', each and every time. Poor fellow- and the floor was wooden too.

The first few months of my new life was utterly boring, besides the occasional visits from my parent's friends and relatives that fostered some entertainment for a couple of hours. Other than that, my routine consisted of crying, falling asleep than eating. But there was one thing that bothered me to no end and it resided everywhere I went.

In the end I concluded it as a 'baby thing', maybe this awkward full feeling would dissipate as I grew older.

Oh how wrong I was.

Before I continue, I'd like point out that I am rarely right. I like to tell myself otherwise because I'm stubborn, I think that I'm always right therefore I am right.

'Oh jumping over a cliff with no adult supervision, just let me go get my camera'. That ended with a broken wrist, and I didn't even jump.

Another month past, the uncomfortable feeling of something still laying dormant within my stomach did not dissipate, if anything, the feeling increased by each day. Unable to identify what was occurring in my stomach, I'd resulted to doing one thing I was very good at after much practice; screaming.

My parents tried everything, I swear they went to every doctor and nurse residing in the city, and when all else failed and every test came out negative, they thrust me into the arms of a shaman.

Yes, let me repeat myself.

A shaman.

The extent of which my screaming had escalated to a point where my parents were so desperate they went to a shaman. Let's just say that the experience had thoroughly traumatized me and never again will I be in the proximity of fire.

The good news was that my eyesight kicked in and I could finally decipher faces and color.

And you would think by now I would catch onto small clues as to where I was. Give me a break, I was a baby, I had an attention span of a fish. It wasn't until I was around ten months old that everything made itself clear.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

It was a quiet evening in the Yamada household, peaceful for once and not accompanied by the cries of the damn but that was only because I had just turned one. Yes, I am indeed proud of myself to say that I've come so far and was able to accept my reality in just one year.

Quite a feat for someone such as myself; queue a flourishing bow.

On this particular evening I was concentrated on building a tower with my colorful blocks and pouted as once again my clumsy hands knocked over my dazzling creation. I was so caught up on building myself a tower that I didn't hear my father approach, nor see him squat down next to me.

"Eh? Whatcha making Hazumi-chan?" He mused, picking up a small block. My father is the most aloof and happy-go-lucky person I've ever met, his smile always brightens the room. I gurgled and patted his hands, gesturing eagerly to my tower. He chuckled, gladly obliging to humor me at the moment, "Ok, I'll play with you."

I gurgled in delight, clapping my hands together for effect, "You know Hazumi-chan, Mama and I won't be around for a while." Papa stated, snatching another block. I was too awe-stricken by the small tower he created in a matter of seconds that his words did not register.

"Papa has to go work, ninja work."

I tilted my head in confusion, Ninja? My parents worked as a ninja? That can't be true, there's no such thing as ninjas. "I'll beat up the bad guys and then-" It was only then I noticed Mama glowering over top of us, and with a fist raised high above the air, promptly delivered a blow to Papa's head, "What are you teaching my child?" she scathingly remarked.

Papa let out a small yelp and rubbed his sore head with a frown as if he couldn't comprehend what he wasn't something that you taught children, let alone a one-year old, "Eh? Um about ninjas and-"

Thud

"Sometimes, I swear I'm raising two kids!" Mama threw her hands in the air whilst letting out an exasperated sigh. See, mother sat on the opposite end of the spectrum; hot-tempered, stubborn, and with a healthy dose of dry sarcasm. I like to think that they complimented each other well, mother reigns in father when his antics gets a little too out of hand while father opens a whole new world known as 'fun' for her to explore.

I uttered incoherent words and continued playing, all my effort trained onto the next block that would perfect my beautiful creation.

"Did you call them yet?" Papa asked with a note of seriousness, Mama arched her eyebrow in question as if to say 'who do you think I am?' but nonetheless still nodded. Who was this 'them' and why were Mama and Papa leaving me unsupervised for work that lasted a month?

Mama grew silent, I sensed her massive water container shrinking and compacting, dulling to a soft yellow rather than the warm colors of the sunset which I was used to aweing over. It was hard to explain how this 'dimming' or anything pertaining an adjective with the ball of liquid worked.

I only realized not too long ago that everyone had a ball of energy within themselves. Sometimes it spiked and that always scared me shitless because not only did it mean the person was beyond furious, but the chances of physical violence was a 99% occurrence. That story involved Mama and a very pitiful can opener that will be told at another time.

"She'll be fine." Papa reassured, their eyes interlocked and a brief silence stretched the expanse of a few minutes in which I assumed they did their telepathic communication. Which to this day I do not know how, but I presumed had to be caused by the fact that they were married and spent 24/7 with each other.

I peered at mother's relaxed face, glad that whatever eyebrow movement father had signed, had undoubtedly calmed down my mother's anxious thoughts.

A faint knock resonated from the entrance, though, I was too busy admiring the creation I had built with my own two pudgy hands to be interested in the newcomers. I heard excited chatter followed occasionally by a quirky 'dattebane!' tic. Now I tried scrounging through my pea-sized brain to come up with a reason as to why I felt a familiar twinge to that one word. Sadly I drew a blank, I simply reverted my attention back onto my glorious masterpiece and gave myself a round of applause. Hey, maybe I can be the next Picasso, you never know.

Soon enough the two newcomers emerged and for the first time I felt engulfed by the sun. Wide-eyed and speechless, I craned my neck to meet the eyes of the couple who smiled endearingly down at me. The energy felt so warm and welcoming on a cold winter night, but yet if I stepped too close, if I reached forward to taste that warmth, I had a feeling I would be completely seared alive.

Besides that aspect, this woman had bright red hair, while the man next to her had a face that could woo a whole stage of ladies. And I thought mother's purple hair was outrageous.

How wrong was I.

"Ohoho, seems like your kid is at the loss for words. Understandable, since I am too awesome for words." The red haired woman chuckled, and Mama smiled. "Come now, Hazumi-chan, this is Kushina-san and Minato-san." Mama cooed at me.

So familiar, their face, the way they moved, the way they talked was so damn familiar.

The couple kneeled down beside me, it wasn't long before I was giggling happily and playing along, a wonder how babies can be preoccupied so easily. I was left to my own devices after awhile and they ushered into the kitchen for a talk. This time curiosity took over and I quietly listened in.

"Trust Kushina and I to take care of Hazumi-chan." Minato reassured, Mama's aura was still stiff like a board. "No, I'm completely comfortable with you guys, just what happens if she misses us or starts disliking you. O-or-"

"Jeesh, she will be fine. Just look at how happy she was a minute ago." Kushina parried, taking a long drawn out sip of her tea, "I understand, every mother will always be worried about their children, remember how Obaa-san thought I was kidnapped and marched into the Hokage's office to demand the ANBU force to look for me only to find said girl huddled in a closet because of thunderstorms a day later?"

A chorus of laughter erupted and the conversation delved into embarrassing moments within their past. I lost interest immediately and resorted to completing the next task at hand.

City of blocks.

After a few failed attempts, I realized the dexterity of my arms could not afford to recreate this masterpiece so I settled onto stacking blocks upon blocks once again.

"-Hokage-sama wants to see you before you leave." Minato informed.

Hokage? Well, that's funny. Where did I hear that before.

"Must be the talk about the rising war coming up, wouldn't be surprised if the Third Shinobi World War breaks out."

Shinobi World War? Did father mean World War Three?

A grave silence stretched through the house and was broken by a nervous laugh from Kushina, "If something like that happens we know who to count on, right Minato?" She teased, casually nudging her boyfriend with a wink. This in turn made the young man blush a crimson red and rub his head in embarrassment.

Papa grinned, "I heard the Hokage fancies you quite a bit as the next candidate for his spot, not to mention, Kushina Uzumaki, the hot blooded ba-" A loud thud.

"Ouch, I give, I give." Papa yelped raising his arms above his head as a means to shield off the ruthless attacks, although nothing could stop an angered woman.

Kushina...Uzumaki?

You mean...Naruto...Uzumaki?

Panic started to kick in, my heartbeat quickened to an inhumane pace. The block unceremoniously clattered onto the ground, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. The weight of the world was too much to handle for my tiny stature, but yet it still pressed down mercilessly on my shoulders as if mocking me for the 2nd time.

2nd life

This couldn't be Naruto, I reasoned.

A war torn world where broken children tore others from limb to limb and laughed at how entertaining the screams were. Not a world where men could put Eduard Wirths' work to shame and bring upon the army of the dead with effortless ease and watch the whole world burn.

The cackle started off so soft I brushed it off as the sound of my abnormal heart beat but the volume increased and it wouldn't stop laughing as it mocked me for who I was and the wishes that would never be fullfilled.

-and then it screamed.

So shrill and painful my vision scarred black with the constant stabbing sensation of knives overandoverandoverandover tearing my head inside out while compressing at the same time, everything hurt.

breathing, moving, seeing, make it stop!

MAKE IT STOP

A whimper escaped.

"Make it stop." I mumbled, but all I heard was the familiar shrill cackle and scream and it blended so nicely that it hurt.

"Sweetie?"

But I was far too gone to notice.

Far too gone to realize.

In the dark I could make out faint lines, a faint smile carved so vindictively into the pristine black canvas that the message became all the more clearer- all the more real.

And you thought you could escape?

Thanks for reading! Follow/Fave and Review!

So I've been obsessing over YouTube lately, it's not healthy.

Shingeki No Kyojin has always been my life, I'm planning to write a fanfic soon but writer's block with everything haha, see you soon!

A/N 4/30/2018

How's it hanging, people?

Yep I'm back after a whole year? I don't even know when I left, anyways I'm trying to rewrite everything. I didn't like where my story was going, to be fair I didn't even know where it was going. So i'm just gonna scrap everything and start from scratch. Rewrote and edited some stuff. Thanks and enjoy!