Orrin remembered nearly everything.

– the bright artificial lights that leapt off the silvery ball that hung up in the back room, the cajoling voices of the people she had mistakenly called her marks for the night –

– there was an useasy feeling brewing in her stomach the moment she had walked into the casino. Like she was being watched, weighted, and dismantled but she had persisted. She needed the money after all. Orrin had debts to pay off and this was how it had to be done –

– she should have known better –

– her targets, a group of woman, weren't working alone. She just wanted their money but they were after her life –

– it appeared that she had pissed off the wrong people, stolen from the wrong bunch and her time was up -

– Orrin remembered charming them, how she had morphed herself to fit in, to meld, to be convincing –

– she remembered the nausea that had stirred in her chest when she had taken a sip from her glass (it was drugged), the aching dizziness, how she can barely see straight and yet the keys to her car were oh so easily pressed into the palm of her hand –

(But hadn't Orrin prepared this drink?)

– she remembered coming to with a gun to her head and so much confusion that she couldn't breathe - and then she remembered the voice, the voice telling her to get in the car and drive but she argued! Mumbled and soft that she would crash and die –

– she remembered a man laughing, as if her words were a joke instead of an actual expressed fear and then she was moving because the cock of the gun was oddly persuasive -

– and then she was in a car –

- she remembered the ride home (expect no it wasn't because Orrin lived states away) and she remembered that the drive never brought her to her destination because the whole thing was a fucking set up –

– there had been a car and she could easily pull it forward in her mind, that sleek black truck that had been barreling around the corner. She remembered slamming her heeled boot on the breaks (but it was cut oh god!) and then the glass was cracking and shattering, showering those sharp shards into her eyes and—

She screamed.

Blearly eyes scrunched shut of their own accord, a reflexive response to the memory so chillingly real, that it felt as if she were going through it again. Her now chubby, tiny fists flew up to shield her face and a painful cry tore from her developing voice-box. Her infant body – not her body, not hers – quivered from the aftershocks of a nightmare no infant should be able to bear and Orrin screamed.

Here's the replacement! I reworked the second chapter to be the first but I changed alot about the character so that she can fit as Orrin/Oren.

She was a conartist in her old life and that plays into her Sharingans abilities. Take that as you will lol.

And yes! I ended up choosing the Sasuke Twin fic lol. She'll be taken by ROOT instead of by some rando organization. So Danzo and all them are really relevant!

Pls enjoy.