Edited: 9/06/15

Some things to keep in mind if you plan to read on:

1) You are reading the old version, and not the new one (titled Fire Flower). The new one will have weekly releases.

2) Its fine to leave criticism, in fact I welcome it so I have things that I could look into for fixes but please know that the majority of this is written with a different skill level than newer chapters. Yes, I am aware that the consistency and pacing is off, but that's thanks to this entire story being a ROUGH DRAFT.

Infamy – 汚名

1

"Kushina!" I heard my mother yell and I swiveled around, looking suspiciously around myself before scuttling out of the scrolls room and rushing to find where she could be. It was of the utmost importance that she didn't see me in this room, being as I wasn't even allowed in the scrolls room, not until I was five at least. But curiosity had always been the thing eating at my conscious, making me do things I really shouldn't if I wanted to keep out of trouble. With my game face on, I found her in the kitchen, knife in hand as she chopped up vegetables.

"Help me with the meal. Your father should be home in half an hour," she explained, giving a bright smile as she brushed my red hair away from my grime covered face. Despite my usual stiff front when I came to uninvited contact, I leaned into her palm slightly, nodding calmly enough as she gave one last pat, "Wash your hands," she ordered and after my doing so, she gestured to the cutting board, bestowing upon me the job of massacring the veggies. With an imaginary pull up of my imaginary pants, I grabbed my stool that stood off to the side, taking the knife in hand before cutting them with a mastered grace.

Most parents wouldn't let a four year old around knives or sharp objects in general. But incidentally, as I wasn't exactly in Kansas anymore, things were different around here. I had been helping with dinner for a while now, having graduated from just watching months ago. My parents had been proud of how easily I'd picked up on cooking but what they didn't know was that in my past life (yeah, don't ask), I had been a pretty decent chef. Still, I was done within minutes, despising how utterly troublesome chubby toddler hands could be before hopping off my stool, tray of cut up carrots and onions in hand as I maneuvered a snaking hand to tug at my mother's skirt, watching as she turned to face me. With a pleased grin, Satsuki quickly scooped up the veggies and deposited them into a boiling pot.

"Thank you, Kushina-chan," she said, ruffling my hair again before laughing gently, "Go wash up now. You've helped enough."

"'Kay," I hollered back, already on the move as I headed to the bathroom. Grabbing my other stool, I easily came to face my own reflection in the mirror, turning on the water at the sink as I washed my face and gave a quick wipe down of my hair. I would have to cut it soon, knowing it would only be easier to maintain if it was shorter. Twirling a lock of hair on my finger, I stared at the mirror longer, making faces to entertain. But those faces quickly morphed into a scowl as I tried to picture another face staring back. One with black hair and hazel eyes. A stubby nose. Were the…were the lips thin?

It was no use, I was forgetting that face even as everything else remained. The scowl remained on the pretty, albeit childish, chubby face. One that should definitely not be mine.

Because I knew.

I was highly aware of how wrong this situation was. I shouldn't have this body or face, I shouldn't have this name. I should be dead at best, an obliterated corpse who was done with life years ago. Instead, I woke up one day, trapped in a baby's body and truly terrified to find that I wasn't as dead as I had thought, as I should have been when I was pushed off of that tall ass building. Regardless, I was living a new life, one that was planned out before I even had a say in what went down.

Because I remembered.

I could recall everything from that life vividly, as if it had been burned there, as if it had become like a separate body part, ever present. Whatever I attempted to forget, to perish the thought, it only came back in the form of nightmares.

Of course, I didn't know I was in this cursed world at first. I didn't know the language even as I recognized my past mother's homeland tongue, nor could I make sense of it immediately. But when I was able to pick apart words as it came back to me, I came to know my new name, and my new parents as well. It couldn't have been a coincidence that my full name turned out to be Kushina Uzumaki. But I could still hope, knowing how stupid a possibility of being reborn into a manga was. That was just silly. Right?

That hope was crushed a couple of months later when I crawled into the scrolls room. It was a wonderment, as the place was huge to a little baby me and the bookcases held so many things that I was immediately encouraged to get into them, discovering and reading what they were all about even as the language wouldn't even make sense to me (despite all my efforts to get them to teach me to read, they only ever wanted to teach me how to speak and walk). Still, I progressed and opened the ones that were closest to the ground, the world fading away as I grew engulfed in trying to figure out what the drawings and the Japanese meant. It was all hand written too, in a neat print that left little to question about.

I guess I was found like that, everything that I had gotten my hands on sprawled and littered all over the floor as I studied each page diligently, violet eyes focused. Then, suddenly, I was being lifted into the air and my mother, Satsuki, was crying, spouting out words rapidly, probably having been worried sick of my whereabouts. My father, Kushiro, was also there, taking in the scene mutely. He had opened his mouth, only to close it like a fish out in the open air. He had tried again and finally managed to bite out, "I don't suppose we can seal this room off, no?"

"Kushiro," my mother had mumbled out, clutching me closer to her body in anxiety, "not now."

When we had left the room, my body clutched desperately to Satsuki's, they left with the knowledge that I was safe. I left with the knowledge that, oh hey, I'm in the freaking Narutoverse.

Years along the line and up to today, I'd say that the curiosity I had felt that day hadn't ebbed in the slightest. In the present, I still snuck in there every now again and studied the scrolls that slowly got easier to comprehend as time went on.

"Kushina!" I heard from afar just as I was leaving the bathroom to see my father coming in, eyes sweeping around as he looked for me. Pleased to see him, I hopped forward and held my arms up with a cheerful grin. Despite Kushiro and Satsuki not being my first parents, they were probably better suited to parenting than the last pair so I played up the act as best I could for the family that I'd unknowingly infiltrated. Kushiro spotted me and with a grin of his own, he swooped me into his arms and tightly squeezed.

"Fun day at work, daddy?" I whispered with what was assuredly broken pronunciation.

"The funnest," he allowed, combing through my hair with his fingers and balancing me on his hip as he lead us back to the kitchen. Satsuki, my mother, smiled at us, a plate of freshly made onigiri in hand.

"Thought you might be hungry for a little pick-me-up before dinner is ready. You got home sooner than I had expected."

"I'm the luckiest man alive to have such a sweet and considerate wife," he chuckled with a broader grin, swiping an onigiri while promptly biting into it. He ended up getting a piece of rice stuck to my forehead but easily remedied that as he kissed it, setting me down moments later.

Not one to loiter around, I headed to the dining room table to sit down, feeling rather tired from my earlier work out. It was all Ichigo's fault. If it hadn't been for the main head's grandson seeing I was advanced for my age, I wouldn't have had to start working on my taijutsu until I was six. But this was a chance the Uzumaki clan was sore for. In the past twenty years none of the families had yet to produce someone of prodigal status to be trained by the clan head himself, in hopes that they'd be the successor. I'm sure they weren't looking for a female but I was the only four year old with enough drive to start learning complicated sealing techniques and they saw this as their chance. But really, all children of Uzumaki descent had a very high chance of being fuinjutsu masters at the age of twelve. Meaning it was quite literally a clan of prodigies that needed a further advanced one to lead us to safety and out of the dangers our sealing techniques had brought onto us as of late.

It was no wonder Uzushiogakure was being attacked by hidden villages out of seemingly nowhere. The Uzumaki clan were monsters in a way, being prone to geniuses and long life spans. We even had our own bloodline limit, chakra chains. It was a trait I was being pushed into, barely being taught how to form them now, despite that being a lesson for those the age of seven.

"The village is on lockdown, love," my father was whispering as they trailed in after me. Satsuki gasped before raising a hand to her lips. "It's nothing to worry about. They've just spotted some enemies. The clan head is setting up seals tonight that could keep them away until they grow bored."

"Keeping us in," Satsuki replied with smartly, a scowl placed delicately on her soft features. She wasn't someone that was meant to frown, no. Her smiles were far too radiant for that.

"It's not like we want to leave Uzushio," Kushiro pacified her, taking the palm of her hand and pressing his lips down, smiling. At the private moment, I looked away and to the set table that I had been charged with preparing an hour before.

Satsuki just sighed, "I'll go check on the food."

Obviously troubled, Kushiro took a seat and I took the one closest to him, gazing up at him in quiet wonder. When my father just released a huff of air, I grew oddly encouraged to speak.

"Why don't we just fight them off?"

Kushiro studied me for a moment, eyes coming to squint at me quizzically, "Well, they fear our power. The elders think it's best if we show them that they have no reason to."

"Can't we play on that? Make them fear us so much they don't want to mess with us?" That's what Kumogakure did at least.

"When people are afraid..." Kushiro paused, as if looking for the hiding words, "they do unexpected things. Things we can't possibly account for when we have so many enemies. Besides, we have always been the fiercest of people, but a people who use their ability to protect. Not harm."

"What about Konoha?" I asked stubbornly, wondering why people were being so calm about being persecuted like this. If we were feared... Why would they bother us!? Wouldn't the point of things be that they stayed away as not to anger us? And why wouldn't our longtime ally, a hidden village so unlike ours in size and strength, help us?

"They are helping as best they can, my sweet," Kushiro reached over to brush back my hair, forcing a smile, "Don't worry about it too much."

"'Kay." It came out slightly bitter.

Fictional World

"Just focus," Jurata, the class teacher, said to me as sweat perspired on my brow. I panted but did as told, centering my thoughts solely on my chakra, willing the chains to take solid form. Jurata had been trying to get me to control where they sprouted ever since I'd been successful at forming them a couple of times. The only problem was that they would appear anywhere from the palm of my chubby hands to the small of my back. It was frustrating to say the least after I had been working on this task for around two weeks. Still no improvement.

Maybe I should change my outlook? Let's see... The chains formed when I focused my emotions, but even then the only thing that came out were mere strings, soft looking, as they didn't look very formidable. I had been told that this would change in time as my chakra system grew larger and sturdier. Still, what actually allowed me to even get that far as a four year old? Biting my lip, I forced my chakra to obey, centering my emotions in one place; my heart. Astonishingly enough, little wispy orange chakra chains sprouted out, moving in the air with a dancer's grace. Smiling I looked up to Jurata, "I did it! Yatta, 'ttebane!"

"It was a fluke!" Kenma, a bratty boy in my class called out accusingly and I sent a scathing glare his way. Boy was just jealous that he's been in this class a whole three years and still could only get as far as I could.

"Retract and try again," Jurata ordered calmly, waving a hand in Kenma's direction to calm his shit. Determined to prove the eight year old's words otherwise, I sent my emotions, my chakra, scattering, promptly allowing my chains to disperse. Then, I gathered it all again, bringing it back with a small struggle before I came to succeed once again.

"In your face, brat!" I said with glee, smirking darkly in Kenma's direction. Jurata just sighed, patting me on the head with an exhausted smile.

"Good job, Kushina-chan."

I beamed at the praise and turned to Ichigo with a pleased smirk, "Did ya see? I got it down before you could, 'ttebane."

The redhead just rolled his pretty blue eyes before getting back to focusing on his leaf. It was a common practice technique as we used the leaf as a medium as a way to center and control our chakra. I had only used it briefly before discovering how truly easily chakra was to move around. What was hard, however, was getting it to take solid form. It could take anywhere from a minute to half for a child in training to form a chain once they knew how. I was one of the luckier kids in the bunch and had a pretty decent time stamp for a four year old in training. 37 seconds to be exact. With training, I could only get faster. Maybe I'd even grow to be as fast as the clan head! I had heard his time is as fast as half a second, so quick that the timer couldn't properly record it so they just guessed.

"Whatever," Kenma was obnoxiously saying, "you're only a stupid four year old so it doesn't matter. Your chains are so small and weak the only thing they can trap is a butterfly!"

My mind centered on one part of his little rant as I turned to Jurata, who frowned at the eight year old boy, "Ne, sensei! Can we go catch butterflies!?"

"Hmm, possibly if everyone agrees to. But how about we catch cicadas instead?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, 'ttebane!" I excitedly flitted around the room as I went to each of the kids in the tiny classroom, giving them my best puppy dog stare as I begged them to agree. Most complied, having already exhausted themselves from the strict training. The only one who stood as an obstacle, unsurprisingly, was the idiot Kenma.

"Ew, no," he had said as I brought it up again, minutes having passed since he'd first given me the idea, "Cicada's are gross."

With a pout I shifted my deflated gaze to Ichigo, who narrowed his eyes, "Ichigooooooooo..."

"No."

"Coooooome oooooon, Ichi-kun, do it." I pouted, looking up sadly yet had my brows raised in quiet hope. He had always been the weakest to my powers as a manipulator, even as obvious as the tricks were.

"Ugh, you owe me, Kushina-chan," Ichigo muttered before puffing out his chest and straightening his back, "Kenma! We're going to catch cicadas with the class or I'll tell dad you've been bullying a four year old girl."

Horrified, Kenma looked to his twin brother, "You'd betray me for her?"

Ichigo's gaze softened before he nodded, face reflected an emotion of regret and bravery, "I am but a fallen soldier made a pawn in her takeover of the world."

Just for effect, I gave a cackle, bringing my hands to my hips and lifted my lips into a dark smirk. Kenma's widened before he cried out, hopping forward to hug Ichigo tightly.

"I will never forget you, brother! I shall defeat this evil woman if it's the last thing I do!"

"Why beat us?" I asked smartly, "If you could join us?"

"That's right, brother, join me in our takeover of the world!" Ichigo powerfully suggested as lifted his arms in emphasis.

"O-okay! I'll do it for you! I'll catch cicadas for you!"

"Excellent! Minions!" I shouted in the classroom and ten faces, including Jurata, stared expectantly, "Today we fight our first battle for world domination against the fierce monsters known as the cicadas! May their annoying buzzing cease!"

"Yeah!" Cheers erupted as Jurata helplessly smiled down at our antics. Pumped up, the eleven of us left the classroom and headed to the surrounding forests.

It might have just been them amusing a four year old child but in all actuality, it was the bonds of an Uzumaki. Together, we all practiced forming our chains, some messing up and others achieving victory but still, the takeover of the world was actually looking pretty good so far as an hour went by. In fact, I'm sure we'd caught around sixty cicadas before Ichigo challenged everyone to an individual match.

"You're so on," I said to him, grinning superiorly at him, hands on my hips as I concentrated my emotions near my chest. As it turns out, I could entirely control that whole emotion thing. It was pretty hard to mentally move your emotions to a specific body part but the heart was easy.

"Be prepared to lose then," Ichigo said, blue eyes light with humor.

"Yeah!" Kenma chimed in with, "He's no longer stuck under your stupid spell."

"That only makes the competition that much more entertaining," I replied with before speeding off into the forest, chains ready to capture. Kenma followed close after, eyes narrowed as he kept a strict eye on me. It would be kind of cute if he wasn't so annoying.

"You can't control my brother anymore!" He shouted, tiny wisps of purple chains fluttering about him. I always liked how the colors of the chains reflected the user's personality. My father's chains were a pretty red, expressing a romantic mind and passionate emotions. My mother had yellow ones, the color that expressed a calm, loving, kind person. Mine, mirroring the actual Kushina's, were orange, as if to balance between the two colors.

"I wouldn't want to control that stupid butthead," I replied with childishly, sticking my tongue out.

"Hey!" Ichigo's voice called from a little bit away, "The betrayal stings!" If there was one thing I liked about Ichigo was his willingness to go along with childish antics. He was also a great actor, so that was a plus.

"It didn't have to be this way!" I called back to him, my voice high pitched and thin, "It could have been different!"

"What did we do wrong?"

"What is even happening!? What are you guys going on about?" Kenma's eyes were wide when he said this, almost in that 'deer caught in the headlights' look. I shrugged in his direction before hopping forward on my toes and leaping toward the nearest tree. After having climbed up the tree, I scanned my surroundings for cicadas, my ears tuned for their buzzing.

"I'm going to beat you if it's the last thing I do!" Kenma suddenly announced, climbing up a different tree, chains poised to attack. I openly laughed, just as I latched onto a buzzing cicada, placing the big guy into the wooden containers that Jurata-sensei had passed out. This is just temporary, I thought to the bug, imagining how scary it would be to be stuck in there. With that, I continued to jump around, collecting every cicada I came into contact with.

Distantly I could hear Kenma's grunts and inwardly laughed. It was actually super fun, getting to compete like this and in the end, I even lost to Ichigo, who got a whopping thirty-four cicadas in his box after I stopped at fifteen (I didn't want the bugs to be too squished). Kenma got a surprising amount of fourteen, just barely losing to me. But he did win the reward of his older twin's praise.

"See, he likes me more than you," Kenma had been saying as we packed up to head home, all the cicadas having been released back into their homes. I shrugged.

"You guys are brothers. Even outside friendship could never get in the way of that," I told him, voice matter of fact as I stood ready to leave.

"That's right," Ichigo announced, smiling warmly at his brother as he brought an arm over Kenma's shoulder, "You're my brother for life. Friendships die and fade, but blood is forever."

Kenma grinned, "That's right!"

It would be great if it finally stuck in his head and this type of argument didn't occur weekly. Kenma was pretty adorable, if I was being honest, but he was just so overtly negative about me that is tended to get a bit old.

I heaved a sigh, "Now that it's settled, let's head to Mika-san's." Mika was one of the nicest people I've ever had the pleasure in either life. She was the one that always willingly gave us treats on our way home. She was someone who could always see through me, knowing whenever I probably needed more sweets to eat than the boys. It didn't hurt that Mika's treats were always so delicious, better than even my mother's.

"Yeah," Ichigo agreed with me as the three of us headed to her house.

Mika lived close to all three of us, on the northern part of the shopping district. Her shop was probably one of the older ones in the place, having been passed down for generations, especially since the start of the village. Even today it was a popular place to visit and was always very busy. Yet Mika always had time to spare. She was actually directly related to me, being that she was my mother's aunt.

We arrived at her shop earlier than usual, and I quickly scuttled up to the wooden counter, eyes big as I met the gaze of Arisa, Mika's daughter. The pretty redhead smiled, her gold eyes crinkling just a tiny bit as she gave us a bright smile. Arisa was sixteen, and although she was still fighting her parents about leaving the village to travel, it was if everything was normal in the world when she would smile. It wasn't surprising to know that she was the village beauty.

"Hello, Arisa-san," I told her politely as I reached a hand up to pat her hand. It was an odd habit I randomly picked up while meeting new people. If I liked someone I had to touch their hand, as if to confirm they were real. Which wasn't entirely irrational if you thought about it. I mean, I did live in a fictional world. My own fictional world, perhaps.

"Hello, Kushina-chan," Arisa murmured as she patted my head, her smile growing.

"We're here to!" Kenma said, hopping forward ecstatically, looked at Arisa with adoring eyes. The kid liked anything that fed him, I swear, as he tended to even like my mother. Or it could, I don't know, be that it was due to him not having an actual mom. My aunt had died after giving birth to the twins, despite how rare it was for an Uzumaki to die during childbirth. Stubborn wills went a long way with things but then I had been told that my aunt had always had a weak one.

But that was depressing to think about so I asked, "Where's Mika-san?"

Arisa pointed to the back doors, an unknown land to mostly everyone. The three of us were special enough that we had actually been back there in the work space only a couple times. Secret recipes lay behind that door.

"Can I go get her?" I asked innocently, even if I felt my ulterior motives showing.

"No way!" Kenma whined, "You're not allowed back there anymore than we are."

Arisa gave a laugh, "Actually, Ma-kun, Kushina-chan is allowed. She helped mom with that recipe for those treats called cake, you guys are so fond of."

"Really?" Ichigo asked, eyes wide in disbelief, "I wouldn't have pegged her for helping with that."

"That's because she screws up most things," Kenma said, looking a little green, "I can't believe you helped with those things."

I rolled my eyes, "Kenma, I only ever wrote the directions. I've never baked anything in my life. I'd probably make charcoal if I tried." Actually, I had, with Satsuki, but it was nice to joke.

"That makes sense. I guess you are kind of smart."

I grinned devilishly, "Oh how I wished I had that recorded."

"Rec-recorded?" He asked, mouth forming around the foreign word. I easily waved it off as I headed to the back of the shop, the doors swinging after me as I called out for Mika.

"Over here!" Mika replied with and I saw her a little bit away, dark, blood red hair tied up in a tight ponytail. She had long hair, unlike my mother, but the same soft features and shocking violet eyes. She turned to me with a smile, holding up flour covered hands. I didn't care much about the mess as I went in to wrap my arms around her legs. I couldn't wait until I was older and could actually hug her. Her hands went to touch my hair and with a graceful laugh she said, "I may have gotten a mess in your hair."

I grinned up at her, "I don't mind."

"Oh you don't, do you?" She poked my nose and I could already feel the flour coating it.

"Yup," I replied with as I let out a childish laugh.

"Was today a good day?" Mika asked and I nodded, ecstatically bouncing as I unwrapped my arms to give emphasis on my story.

"We caught a whole bunch of cicadas. And then set them free because it's bad to harm things. That's what I think at least. Ichi-kun and Ma-kun didn't seem to think so but I think harm should only be done when necessary, right? Do you agree with me?" I stared up at her curiously and with a laugh, Mika lifted me up, balancing my small frame on her hip as we headed back out to the others.

"I do agree with you, Kushina-chan. Boys are just mean that way, aren't they? They're all brute and no thought."

I wasn't the type to believe in gender rules but in this case, it was mostly true. Ichigo and Kenma were usually more about fighting than thinking things out. Ichigo was less of an offender but Kenma never seemed to have any moral dilemmas. But then, that might have been from the conditioning they put us through, even at young ages. I nodded in reply.

"Hello Mika-san," Ichigo and Kenma chorused the moment they saw her.

"Good afternoon, boys. What type of treat do you want for today? Yesterday Kushina here made a new excellent recipe for these things called Twinkies. It's an odd name but cute."

I tried not to laugh at Mika's pronunciation and settled with grinning.

Kenma's eyes narrowed at me and I growled. He was such a little prick and most days I kind of wished he would just realize there was no battle to fight with me. Although, it might have been my fault that he thought that way.

See, my friendship with Ichigo started unlike many others. As he is my cousin, his mother being my aunt, Kenma and he came by my house often when my mother was the only one available to look after the youngins. As I was just a baby, they never spent much time with me personally. That is until my mother bragged about me being smart enough to already read, when I was like, one. This caught their attention, specifically Ichigo's as he was fascinated with children. Out of the two of them, he played with me the most. And I guess, Kenma, being a tiny, still maturing toddler, did not take to the idea of sharing his brother well.

"Just cookies," Kenma said bitterly, frown evident on his face, lips upturned as he looked at anywhere but me. I told myself that I didn't care that he didn't like me because I didn't care about him but that was really just a lie. I actually liked the Kenma that interacted with Ichigo; he was cute. Thus it was kind of a pain for him to act so vehemently negative about me.

Before my frown could show, I grinned, pointing to the floor to be let down. Mika easily complied and as soon as my feet were touching, I shouted, "One of everything, please!"

Mika eyed me doubtfully, "I'll just get you the same as usual then."

"Please do," Ichigo told her, eyes on me as he said it, "I'm not a fan of a hyper Kushina."

"Yeah," Kenma agreed, "She's even more annoying than usual."

I shrugged. It was kind of true.

"I'll get you the same then, Ichi-chan." Mika was the only one who could call him that and get away with it. Even I hadn't tried. Because Ichigo was kind of known to be peculiar about the way each person treated him.

He smiled and nodded.

There was still a lot I didn't know about what went on when I had yet to be born but apparently there had been an incident with ninja's from a hidden village far away from here. Apparently Ichigo had been kidnapped, supposedly because he was the clan head's grandson (I wasn't too clear on details), and in the end Mika had been the one to save him. Ever since then Ichigo expressed complete adoration for the older woman, even as she dropped out of Uzushio's ranks as an active kunoichi.

With that, our orders were made and given and not much longer after that, the three of us were kicked out and ordered to go home. On the way there, we were pretty quiet, munching on our snacks in thought. The sun was still brightly shining and not a cloud graced the sky. Even the wind had taken a pause in its usual torment with our tiny village. I found myself grinning. In my past life I hadn't gone out, perpetually frightened over the simplest things but in this world, I was content just to walk safely in town with my cousins. I wondered how I had become so differently, once crippled with intense anxiety, being an introvert, and now I was showing all the signs of being an extrovert.

"I think we're going to have to leave soon," Ichigo suddenly came out with and all three of us paused. My smile fell away. I knew instinctively why he was saying this but I still asked.

"Why do you say that?"

"I overheard dad talking with our grandfather," he murmured, eyes dark, "Apparently the attacks have been getting too frequent."

"What about Konoha?" I asked, frowning, "They're our allies, 'ttebane! They should be helping considering we share so much of our fuinjutsu with them."

"I don't know," Ichigo rubbed the bridge of his nose, "But apparently the enemy is getting closer to the village and dad mentioned the clan moving to Konohagakure until everything was clear."

"What, 'ttedate!?" Kenma burst out with and I felt similarly. Anybody who grew up on the island, save for a few exceptions, loved it unconditionally. It was our home, our treasure. This sun lighted island, with its overabundance of wildlife and greens, was ours. It was a feeling of ownership that ran deep within all Uzumaki, even an interloper such as I.

"I feel the same, Ken," Ichigo murmured, "But if it keeps us safe, maybe we can come back in a couple-."

"But we're strong, right? We can take them, can't we?" Kenma said, tone insistent.

"I don't know," Ichigo murmured, eyes dark and hopeless.

I didn't say a word, but that sinking feeling that my happy days were limited kept a grim, tight hold on me.

Fictional World – End