New story, new character. Typical SI reincarnation fic.

I don't own anything.

If you were to ask someone about the little girl who lived on end of the street they would tell you she was an odd child, then cluck their tongues and turn away, murmuring about 'the poor thing' and going on to talk; "this is what happened when you married a someone like him." "The poor thing, all alone like that. Someone really should go and bring her a proper meal." Nothing would be done, of course, it wasn't their problem after all. And little Asuka Suzuki, who would more likely than not be elsewhere, would be none the wiser to the transaction.

Her behavior was marked up as a side effect of her upbringing, with an absent father that spared her few glances and an absent mother that hadn't looked at the girl in years. So excuses were made, excuses for why the girl with green eyes always looked like she knew something. Reasons that a switch could flick and the childish grin would be replaced a look that was more predator than person. Reasons that the girls calculating gaze, switched quickly for one of innocents, might cause such anxiety.

Reasons that a child only acted her age.

If you were to ask Asuka she would reply with something flat, or innocent, or sarcastic, all depending on her mood. And green eyes were look up at you with such clarity that it was sure that she had to be only what she appeared.

Behind closed doors and deep in the woods, however, lay the truth. Bloodied knuckles and micro-fractures, notes written in foreign ciphers and half completed drawings that held no visible meaning. Determination burned brightly in those dark places, hidden from prying eyes and gossiping house hens. An unbreakable will shone deep in her heart, and effort was seen in cracked trees and broken mannequins.

Green eyes glowed with the desire to grow, to strengthen, to surpass.

And none knew why, or even noticed, because who would see the little girl at the end of the street for anything more than what they wanted to see, a reason and an example.

"Which alternative is worse, I wonder?" she said. "To deny death and thus risk never being wholly alive, or to face oblivion squarely and risk paralysis by dread?"

James K. Morrow, in The Philosopher's Apprentice