Chapter One: Falling

For all intents and purposes, Mita Kimiko was an ordinary girl. At least, she was ordinary if you ignored the fact that she was actually a twenty-six year old psychiatrist stuck in the body of a six year-old. And that she had been reborn in a fictional universe.

Other than that, she was perfectly normal.

Her parents were merchants and upstanding members of the community. Her grades were slightly above average, and she got along well with all the children in her class. Kimiko was always, always polite to her teachers, and she never caused any trouble.

In other words, the ideal child.

If you questioned her parents about any odd behavior, then they might mention that she had cried a lot as baby. They might also mention her unusual love of reading.

That was the extent of her abnormality.

To any moderately sane person, Kimiko was an ordinary girl who went to Konoha's civilian school.

Of course, they'd be wrong.

Kimiko—or Kimi, as she preferred to be called—tapped her pencil against the desk as she pretended to struggle with basic math.

"Remember to line up the numbers…" droned on the teacher.

The not-really-six-year-old girl sighed and let her mind wander. Kimi loved learning—she truly did—but sitting through school a second time was not something she wanted to do. Kimi grimaced as she remembered the tons of homework, tests, and (oh god) college applications. Did the Naruto world even have universities? She made a mental note to find out.

Frankly, she still found it hard to believe that she was in a fictional universe. In her past life, she'd casually watched the show Naruto, entertained by the humor and world building. Once she had become conscious, Kimi had noticed too many similarities between this world and the show for it to be a coincidence. At first, she'd wondered if everything was a hallucination or something similar. But everything was so detailed, without the inconsistencies she'd come to expect from a dream. Initially, she had refused to believe it was all real, but in the end, she had decided to treat this world as reality and proceed from there.

Really, the situation was quite surreal. Even the thought of reincarnation had been absurd in her past life, but to experience it . . .

And if it was real, how did the reincarnation system work, anyway? Did that mean souls were real? During her early childhood stage—in other words, when she'd been helpless and terribly bored—Kimi had spent hours struggling with the concept.

When she hadn't been pondering "metaphysical nonsense," as she called it, she had been grieving. Kimi knew that the chances of ever seeing her family or friends again were almost nonexistent. And she had left them; they hadn't left her. Everyone had probably mourned her loss before moving on to live happy, productive lives. Better her than them. She realized that.

But it still hurt.

Six years in a new world had turned the sharp pain into a dull ache. Being—having been—a psychiatrist, she knew the importance of grieving. Infantile amnesia had made it difficult to even think, but in her toddler years she had cried a great deal.

Never underestimate the healing power of tears. If it wasn't for that damn "Rule 25" of the Shinobi Code, then Konoha's ninja population would be much more mentally stable. And this world wouldn't be as messed up.

"Hey!" A loud voice broke her rather depressing train of thought.

"Yes, Yasu-chan?" asked Kimi, smiling at the boisterous girl.

"Class is done, silly! Let's play outside!"

"Ok, I'm coming." Kimi quickly packed away her books and headed outside for the equivalent of recess. Playing with children was exhausting, but she had plenty of experience with kids. In her past life, she had been the eldest child—and that included her extended family. Wrangling three brothers and six cousins wasn't too different from playing with a class of twenty-seven children. More often than not, she ended up as the referee for the games; which, more often than not, happened to be ninja-related.

Sure, it made Kimi little queasy to watch six-year olds pretend to kill each other with knives, but kids played games like that everywhere, including her own world.

"Goro-kun!" she called out. "Please don't bite Aki-chan! Shinobi don't bite people, remember?" Well, that last part was a lie. Kimi was pretty confident that a trained killer would have no problems with biting someone. But Goro, who was obsessed with everything ninja, didn't need to know that. However, he did need to know not to bite people. Six was too old for biting to be acceptable. His parents really hadn't disciplined him correctly.

Kimi sighed as she tried to keep Aki-chan from fighting back. It wasn't fun to play with these children. More like exhausting, actually. But it was necessary to keep her cover. An anti-social child would only draw attention.

Necessity. That had become the guiding force of her new life. Hiding, conforming, pretending . . . everything was necessary in order to survive. Her early life here had been peaceful, but Kimi didn't delude herself by pretending it would always be that way. She was too reasonable for that.

After an uneventful recess, class continued as normal. Kimi expected to be dismissed after "history" class (or propaganda class, as she called it), but the teacher instead held them back for a special announcement.

"Children," said Shun-sensei, attempting to act excited, "I have great news! Tomorrow, two shinobi are coming to talk to the class. Isn't that wonderful?"

The class burst into chatter, but Kimi just felt a sinking feeling. Shinobi. From what she could tell, the Third Shinobi War was in full swing. The only reason ninja would spend time at the civilian school instead of the war front was to recruit more children.

She kept her expression neutral as her classmates chattered enthusiastically. For civilians, even those in Hidden Villages, the shinobi lifestyle possessed incredible allure. But for her, shinobi were simply a reminder of the dangers and risks in her new life. Kimi held back a sigh. All she had to do was keep her head down. Hide. Conform. Pretend. She could do this.

Forcing a grin, Kimi nodded as her 'friend' Yasu babbled about how ninjas were so awesome. She followed the girl to the front of the school, waving goodbye.

"Kimi-chan!" Her mother smiled and gave her a hug. Though they weren't her original parents, Kimi loved them all the same. It did disconcert Kimi to be treated like a child, but it was rather hard not to love them when they cared for her unconditionally. "How was your day?"

"Good," Kimi responded. "Two shinobi are coming tomorrow for a dem-demonstration." She deliberately fumbled the last word and beamed at her mom.

"Sounds interesting." Kimi and her mother spent the rest of the walk home chatting about mundane things. Under her cheerful façade, Kimi worried about the two ninja coming to school tomorrow. Everything she had built over the past six years could come tumbling down with one mistake. But there was nothing she could do but wait.

Lying in bed, Kimi listened as her parents spoke in hushed voices. The walls were thinner than her parents realized, and their daughter wasn't fast asleep like they expected.

"I don't know what to do, Emi. The war is making it difficult to receive shipments of any kind. If there's nothing to sell, then—"

"The war can't last forever, dear. We still have savings. We can hold out for a little longer."

Her father sighed. "I'm not sure we can. With Kimi's school fees and the increasing prices, our savings will be gone in a few months."

"Think positively! At least the village is still safe. We're still safe. All we need to do is weather the storm for a little longer."

A dry chuckle. "The village could be the safest place on earth, but if we don't have money to buy our next meal –"

"Stop it, Takumi. I won't hear any more of this pessimistic nonsense."

She closed her eyes as the familiar argument started up again. Although Kimi had known about the money problem for a while, only recently had finances become an issue. Her father dealt with luxury goods, and not many people could buy fancy soap or perfume in the middle of a war.

With those thoughts in mind, she drifted into a restless slumber.

For the first time in months, Kimi dreamed of the day she died.

"This trial's a failure. The lack of any improvement . . ."

The voices of her colleagues faded, leaving only silence. Colors around her began to blur, and she was forced into a standstill.

"I—" The world spun around her, faster and faster like some demented carnival ride. Sounds returned and intensified until the noises overwhelmed her.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Dark spots began to eat into her vision. Her head pounded like a hammer was forcing its way through her skull.

Someone called out her name, and everything went black.

Kimi woke quietly, taking deep breaths to steady her frantic heart. Still alive. Still alive. I am fine. I am fine. As she pushed aside the confusion and desperation that lingered, she slowly calmed her jumbled brain. Kimi threw off the covers as she reached for the clock by her bed, grimacing at the time. School wouldn't start for another three hours, but Kimi knew that she couldn't fall back to sleep. With a sigh, she grabbed the journal by her bed.

The nightmares had started when she was four. The first time, she had dismissed the bad dream. But after she had dreamed of her past death for the third time, Kimi had begged her parents to buy her several journals. She couldn't talk to anyone about her nightmares, but writing about traumatic events could be just as therapeutic. The first book functioned simply as that—a place to write down her thoughts and dreams. In the second journal, Kimi had recorded every detail she could remember about the plot of Naruto, a show she had casually watched in college and the setting of her current world. After Kimi had begun writing, the dreams had faded in intensity and frequency. She wrote in her books almost religiously, now.

Each book used a different language. The journal she used for describing her past life and current dreams was in English. Her second, more secret journal was written in Spanish. And as a decoy for her parents, she had filled a third book with childish Japanese writing. They were all for reasonable security reasons, but Kimi had acknowledged that her paranoia had increased ten-fold.

Stifling a tired sigh, she flipped open to the first blank page and began writing to quell her mental turmoil.

I experienced the recurring nightmare of my death. The increased stress from the announcement of the shinobi visitors and the growing financial problems may have contributed to its reoccurrence.

She paused in her writing, listening for any signs that her parents may have awoken.

I plan to visit the civilian library tomorrow. I finished the children's novel and the book on chakra usage vs. physical health. Much to my disappointment, most of the scientific knowledge is restricted to the Shinobi Archives. Thankfully, civilian doctors are given leeway to access the more advanced medical texts. I don't look forward to completing med school a second time, though I have a suspicion that doctors are trained mostly through apprenticeships here. My parents still haven't noticed the more sophisticated scientific books I smuggle along with the typical kid's stories.

Kimi continued writing mundane facts and events that had happened earlier today, relaxing as the nightmare began to fade from her memory. Dying of (what she assumed was) an aneurism was bad enough the first time, but repeating the experience was not fun. I must have really pissed off the neurology gods by studying psychiatry instead, she thought wryly. With that thought, Kimi hid the journal and pointlessly attempted to fall asleep.

Kimi finished the last math problem and put her pencil down stiffly. After math, they usually had recess, but the ninja would be giving their "demonstration" today instead.

"Alright, settle down!" The teacher managed to quiet the animated children, which was no small feat. Once the class had become completely silent, the teacher spoke.

"As you know, a shinobi is coming to talk with us. Now, I want you to be on your best behavior. Understand?"

"Yes, sensei!" chorused the class.

"Good. Our special guest should be here any minute."

A sudden swirl of smoke and leaves proved the teacher right. Kimi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Well, this ninja had a flair for the dramatic. Preparing herself for additional dreadful propaganda, Kimi smiled and cheered as the shinobi showed off his "ninja tricks."

Absentmindedly, she noted that Seijo Hito was very good at what he did. His body language was open and welcoming: shoulders relaxed, smiling, making eye contact with each child. His gestures enhanced his performance instead of distracting the students, and he spoke with a clear and steady voice. All in all, Seijo was an excellent speaker, engaging the kids with almost negligible effort. Kimi wondered if he was a teacher at the Academy, as he handled the children with skill that almost impressed her. Of course, then she listened to his actual speech and was reminded of his purpose here. Kimi resisted the urge to scowl. There were only fifteen minutes left. She could do this.

Yamanaka Isamu watched his teammate lecture the civilian children on the ninja life. The war had decimated the ninja forces, and they were desperate for new soldiers. Well, these children wouldn't be ready for another few years, but they could definitely fill the ranks of the next generation. His partner Hito was a chuunin from a civilian family, putting him in the perfect position to convince these kids. While the children were focused on Hito, Isamu could observe them without attracting any attention and determine which ones were suited for the Academy.

As he watched, somewhat bored, a girl in the back corner caught his eye. Had he just spotted . . . disgust? The girl laughed and gasped at all the right place, but—well, if he didn't know better, he'd say it was forced. Her body language looked slightly uncomfortable, and she seemed unusually focused on the instructor. Odd.

Isamu frowned and turned to the other students. Perhaps it was just his imagination. Eyes narrowed, he made a mental note to learn her name.

The demonstration . . . actually hadn't been so bad. Even she had to admit that the techniques were impressive. She'd always loved magic shows and fantasy novels. If Kimi ignored what he was saying, she could probably even enjoy the presentation.

Kimi hoped it was a one-time thing and that she would never see that shinobi again. But for some reason, she doubted that.

Two weeks later, the shinobi visited again. Two weeks after that, they came a third time. The demonstrations continued with regularity. Kimi watched with dismay as several students fell prey to the indoctrination and signed up. Ten out of the twenty-seven children in her class had applied to the Academy, and nine had been accepted. Kimi felt her stomach churn whenever she spotted the empty desks.

Not being trained in the shinobi arts, Kimi failed to notice the second shinobi that always accompanied the chuunin. But the Yamanaka did not fail to notice her. As he observed her behavior, his doubts only grew.

As the lectures continued, the shinobi began speaking less about recruitment, and more about supporting their ninja protectors. Kimi noticed that the ninja even threw in a few first-aid tips for wounds. At least some good had come from the propaganda sessions. The children who wanted to become shinobi had already applied to the Academy, so Kimi supposed that Seijo Hito had continued the visits to solidify the children's respect for ninja.

When the chuunin had announced that this would be the last time he would speak to them, Kimi internally celebrated. Finally, she could breathe in peace without fear of chocking on the indoctrination polluting the air.

Hiding her smile behind a pout, Kimi listened as Hito said his goodbyes, reminding them once again that the Academy would accept applications for another three months. He stopped by each student's desk, speaking to each personally. A few students proclaimed their intentions for shinobi-hood loudly and beamed at Hito's encouragement.

". . . and I'm gonna be like Tsunade-sama! I'll be the best kunoichi ever!" The chuunin grinned at the cheerful girl.

"I'm sure you will, Aki-chan. If you work hard and your parents let you try for the Academy, then you'll definitely become a great kunoichi." Hito then moved on to Kimi's desk, resting his hand on the flat surface.

Mild intimidation, she thought idly. Encroaching on personal space, leading to discomfort.

"How about you, Kimi-chan? Do you want to become a kunoichi too?" He leaned forward, still smiling.

Kimi felt a jolt of irrational fear. She had stayed out of the limelight, never attracting attention. Why would he—no, she was just being stupid. Hito had asked that question to almost all of the students. Now was just her turn.

Ducking her head, Kimi looked at the desk shyly. While a part of her toyed with the idea of telling him exactly what she thought of that idea, Kimi's rational side stuck to the plan. "U-um, maybe. Ninja are super cool, but I don't want to get my dress dirty. Mommy would be mad." Kimi fidgeted and looked away.

Perfect. Now she was the image of a wishy-washy civilian girl who was too shy to hurt a fly, let alone kill a person. She was the worst candidate for becoming a ninja.

Seemingly satisfied, Hito nodded. "That's ok, Kimi-chan. Not everyone can be a ninja." He walked to the student behind her, continuing with his farewells.

Relieved, Kimi returned to her doodling. She was safe. She would be fine.

As a reward for being on their best behavior for their guest, the children were allowed to skip history and spend the rest of the day in recess. Summer vacation was starting soon, so the children weren't learning much anyway.

Kimi sat on the rickety swing, keeping an eye on the children playing fifteen feet away. They were playing hide-and-seek, so they didn't need much supervision. She smiled as a light breeze ruffled her hair, enjoying the pleasant weather. For the first time in weeks, she could relax.

"Mita Kimiko?" said an unfamiliar voice behind her. She quickly jumped off the swing and turned around. What Kimi saw made her blood run cold.

A blond, cheerful looking shinobi was smiling at her. His hands rested by his sides, and his entire body-posture was carefully manipulated to appear as unthreatening as possible.

"Hi." She stepped back cautiously, glancing at her much-too oblivious classmates. "Who are you?"

"My name is Yamanaka Isamu." The light glinted off his hitai-ate as he tilted his head. "Is it alright if I talk to you, Kimiko-chan?"

"Kimi is fine," she replied automatically. Kimi took another step back, eyes flickering to his bandaged leg. "Why do you want to talk to me?" She hesitated. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"But I'm not a stranger," he gently corrected, "I'm a shinobi." Isamu pointed at his hitai-ate. "See?"

"How do I know you're really a shinobi and not an imposter?" she countered. Kimi looked back at the children. They should have noticed the ninja by now—they would have gleefully swarmed him if they knew he was here. Genjutsu?

"Well," Isamu paused, "we could go to the Uchiha Police Station by the school, or we could talk to your teacher. If you want, I could give you my shinobi registration number. Then you could look me up later."

She was tempted to run to the police or call the teacher, but that would be much too paranoid for a six-year old.

"Ok. Give me your re-ris-tration number." She purposefully fumbled on the larger world and pouted.

"It's B0059887623," he recited. Kimi nodded as she committed the string of numbers to memory.

"So, what do you want?" Kimi kicked the pebble by her foot and forced herself to look up.

He waved his hand towards the picnic table by the swing. "Why don't we sit down first?"

She followed the ninja and seated herself on the other side of the table. Kimi waited for the ninja to say the first word.

"As I mentioned before, my name is Yamanaka Isamu. I'm Hito-san's partner." He smiled again. "While Hito-san was busy teaching everyone about ninjas, I was watching the class for those exceptional students that would succeed as shinobi or kunoichi."

Kimi said nothing. After a moment, the Yamanaka continued.

"Kimi-chan, why don't you want to be a ninja?" His tone was soft and neutral as he abruptly changed topics.

"B-because I don't wanna get dirty. Mama would be mad," she mumbled in reply, caught off guard.

Isamu tapped his fingers against the table. "I want to know the real reason. We both know you're lying." His voice didn't change, but his posture did.

Kimi tensed involuntarily, cursing her childish body. "W-what?" she said with a deliberate hint of indignation. "I'm telling the truth!"

Isamu clasped his hands leaned forward. "For a six year old, you're an extremely good liar. But did you really think you could deceive a shinobi? Especially one from the Intelligence Department?" His smile grew a tad darker. "I think you're smarter than that. Right, Kimi-chan?"

"What do you mean?" Kimi kept her gaze steady before realizing that a child wouldn't be so nonchalant about the situation. Hiding a grimace, she maintained eye-contact with the shinobi regardless.

"Despite your remarkable attempts, you haven't managed to hide everything. I've been observing you for a while, Kimi-chan. You may have fairly average grades, but I have no doubt that you are far more intelligent that you pretend to be. Why else would you check out An In-Depth Analysis of the Chakra Systems of Aquatic Species? Bit heavy reading material for a civilian student, don't you agree?"

Kimi's eyes widened slightly. Shit.

"There's also your interaction with the other children to take into account." Isamu tilted his head back slightly. "You don't treat them like peers. In fact, you act more like a teacher than the actual instructors in your school. But that's understandable. Intelligent children often have trouble interacting as equals with people from their age group. What I don't understand is why you go to such lengths to hide your… genius." His smile faded. "If it wasn't for your impeccable background, I'd think you're a spy."

Isamu loomed over her, and Kimi cringed. "I'm still not entirely convinced." His voice lost all emotion. "So, Kimi-chan, why don't you want to be a ninja? Give me a good reason why I shouldn't take you to Torture and Intelligence right now."

A few seconds passed. Finally, Kimi looked up, and for the first time, she dropped her childish façade.

"I don't want to be a ninja because I don't want to kill others." And creating child soldiers is absolutely despicable.

"Oh?" Isamu raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue.

"There's also the increased mortality rate to consider, but fear of death isn't my main reason." I've already experienced dying, after all. "I… I want to be a doctor. It would be somewhat hypocritical of me to actively murder when I want to save lives."

"You could become a med-nin."

Kimi shook her head. "Well, I could. But there's still the chance that I'll have to commit murder. Do no harm," she added sardonically. He wouldn't understand the reference, but the point remained.

"Hm…" Isamu's pupil-less eyes examined her. "Why did you lie when Hito-san asked you?"

Kimi gave him an unimpressed look. "Did you think I hadn't noticed? Your indoctrination wasn't exactly subtle. My answer would have undermined your propaganda, and speaking against it would have brought attention to me." She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "These kids don't understand the hardships of a ninja life. Killing isn't easy. They may learn super-cool jutsu, but they'll end up with more mental problems than they can count."

"I did notice that you checked out several psychology books. A passing interest?" He ignored her previous statements, throwing her off balance again.

"Well, yes." Kimi paused and collected her thoughts. "Child-development books are incredibly useful when you're a genius who doesn't know how to act like an ordinary kid." Though most of my knowledge came from the child-development course I took in med school. But this makes an excellent excuse.

"But why hide your intelligence? You're clearly a brilliant girl."

Kimi blinked incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Do you know how difficult child prodigies have it?"

The Yamanaka chuckled. "I suppose you're right." He looked at her expectantly.

Ah, silence, she thought. The most effective tool for interrogation. Kimi sighed and spoke. "I'm not a spy. Really, I'm not!" she exclaimed after seeing his raised eyebrow. "I haven't even met anyone from outside of Konoha." Oh god. I don't want to be tortured, but I doubt they'll trust me. It's not like I can tell the whole truth.

"I know."

"What? Wait, you believe me?" She tried to hide her shock.

It was the shinobi's turn to look incredulous. "Kid, I'm a trained shinobi interrogator with years of experience. You may be a genius, but you're a six year old who can't even act like a normal child. I can obviously tell when you're lying."

"Um, thanks?"

Isamu smirked. He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her.

"You'd make an excellent kunoichi. It would be an absolute shame to waste your talents. If you ever do change your mind, contact me. The Intelligence Department could use you."

Kimi glanced at the paper. "Thanks, but I'd prefer not to be used by anyone just yet."

He inclined his head. "I respect your decision, even if I don't agree with it." Isamu stood abruptly, giving her another cheerful smile. "Good luck, Kimi-chan. I hope you succeed in whatever you choose."

Kimi studied him, trying to gauge his sincerity. "Thank you, Yamanaka-san." I hope to never see you again.

With a playful wave, Isamu disappeared in a puff of smoke.

She sighed and folded the paper, tucking it away. Well, that did not go as I expected. But then again, when does the universe ever do anything expected?

Yamanaku Isamu jotted down the last few words, briefly reading over his work to check for errors.

"Isamu?" called a familiar voice. The chuunin glanced up to see his older brother standing by a dusty shelf.

"Yes?" Isamu rolled the scroll up and set it on the table..

"Father was looking for you." The fellow blond picked up the scroll, examining it.

"Thanks, Inoichi-nii. I'll head to his office in a few minutes." Isamu grabbed the scroll from his brother and placed beside the others in the archive.

"You're adding a new file?" asked Inoichi. "On who?"

Like most other shinobi clans, the Yamanakas had a special library known as the clan archive for secret techniques and information. However, the Yamanaka clan also had a separate library for personnel reports. Besides having files on every ninja in Konoha, they also had extensive information on anyone they considered important, foreign or civilian. There was a reason that Konoha had the best Bingo Book out of all the nations—and that reason was the Yamanaka clan.

Isamu shrugged. "I'm just adding an entry-level file on a child I met during my rotation at the civilian school." An entry-level file was basically a mark of potential, denoting a person to keep an eye on.

"Oh? One who wanted to be a shinobi? Or one from a prominent family?" Inoichi looked vaguely interested.

"Neither. In fact, she told me that the very idea of becoming a ninja was distasteful." At Inoichi's curious expression, he continued. "The girl—Mita Kimiko, I believe—is a genius with close to Nara-level intellect. She was able to correctly determine our motives, going as far to call it indoctrination. She checks out advanced science books for fun, and her vocabulary and maturity is far beyond her age." He chuckled. "The girl is terrible at acting like a child, though. Granted, she could completely manipulate any civilian or untrained genin, but an average ninja would see right through her. But if she had a bit of training…" Isamu trailed of meaningfully.

"I can see why you added a file on her." Inoichi grimaced slightly. "It's a shame she decided on a different career."

"Who knows? Mita Kimiko is only six. She might end up changing her mind."

"Of course." His older brother returned the mirthless smile. "She just might."

AN: I wrote this because I wanted to read a story where a mental health professional interacts with the Naruto world. As such, this story will be discussing mental illness and trauma. However, I am not a professional myself, and I welcome corrections.

This story is very slow-building. It will also discuss politics, society, and similar concepts—though action, adventure, and drama will be equally present. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!