A small explosion woke me up, and frankly, I wasn't surprised. Loud laughter followed, as well as rapidly fired off taunts and responding threats. I rolled over, hoping to continue sleeping, only to have the blankets ripped off me.

"Ne, Asuka! Get up, you promised today we'd get dango!"

Did I? Why the hell did I do that?

"Come ooooon, it's my birthday…"

Oh. That's why. The wheedling tone got my ass in gear, grumbling while I rolled out of bed and hunted through my things for something decent to wear. The Orphanage we lived in didn't really have much in the way of clothing options. My companion was wearing dark blue shorts and a plain white shirt that wouldn't stay that way for long. He was jumping up and down in place, practically dancing with excitement. Not that I could blame him, we didn't get much in the way of food, never mind sweets. I had saved up the pitiful allowance I got for doing the dishes every night for a very long time in order to get this for him. I pulled out a rather beat up pair of dark blue pants and a similar white shirt before heading to the bathroom, slipping easily past my friend, who hadn't yet stopped talking.

His sunshine yellow hair flopped all over the place and I could still hear the sound of chaos outside our door from whatever mischief he'd caused already today. Uzumaki Naruto. Sometimes I woke up and still couldn't believe I was friends with him. Not because he was the 'cool kid' or my 'long time crush' or anything teen novel-ish like that, we were five years old for fucks sakes, but because he wasn't real. Hold on, that's not a good way to phrase it. He's real all right, he just...wasn't, before. The first time I lived. In that place he was a story, the first anime I ever saw actually. It ended and I would read the occasional fan fiction or watch an episode if it came on in the cafeteria at work. Then I died. It wasn't particularly a good way to go, but not a bad way either. Everyone in the building knew that at any time it could be a target, and we accepted it. But that doesn't mean that we actually believed that it could happen to us.

My first memories of this world, my new home, are muddled. I didn't know Japanese, or whatever passes for Japanese here, by that point. My vision was the shit kind that belongs to a newborn, so no surprise that my sight was limited to blurs and color. There was a distinctly feminine voice, dark eyes, dark hair, pale skin, a soft blue-ish blanket that was quickly replaced with something much rougher and more like burlap the closer we got to our destination, the sound of pen on paper, the rustle as it was tucked into the blanket, and the loud knocking that signaled my arrival at the orphanage. I was quiet for the journey my mother took to leave me there, still mostly in shock, mourning my co-workers and friends, and still trying to get a handle on the fact that I was alive and seemingly starting over again.

Two months later I thought I was set for death again. There was a burning deep in my infant body that didn't make sense. I thought I'd caught some strange illness and that I was going to die before I even got the opportunity to enjoy this second chance at life. The women that worked at the nursery didn't refute this one bit, worrying over me and generally not understanding what was wrong with a usually so silent child. It took several days for the pain to go away, and both the matrons and I breathed sighs of relief.

Three months after that came the noise. It wasn't actually 'noise' per say, but it was loud and suffocating, like the static that I felt in the air, and moving through me once that pain ended from my 'illness' before. I sat there in terror while we were moved somewhere dark and damp, only slightly more sheltered from the pure rage that flowed through the static and threatened to smother us. It didn't take much longer after that to figure out where I was, or what had happened. A small baby was brought to the orphanage shortly after we were settled back in, by men wearing familiar animal masks and carrying tantos on their backs. From there the shit that I'd been ignoring hit me like a steel anvil and I had to reevaluate my life goals. Becoming a programmer again was no longer an option. I'd been doubting it for a while already, mostly because of the distinct lack of complex technology. I mean sure, there was electricity and a television, as well as some kitchen appliances, but that's as far as it went, and the television was ancient. Now I had a new goal in mind, succeed. In my original lifetime it had been all about doing well for yourself, and this time it wasn't any different. I was going to become someone that twelve year old me could meet and be proud of, and I was going to do it while fucking with the bad guys as much as intelligently possible.

The mirror in front of me never showed the face I was expecting, and this time on Naruto's birthday was no different. I expected brown hair, but of a different shade and length. I expected light eyes and freckles accompanied with blockish features and a nervous smile. Now there was pale skin, delicate features, and eyes of a dark, indeterminate color. I turned my eyes away from it quickly, still slightly unnerved to have a child's face staring back at me. It had been a long time since I'd been a little girl, and this face was nothing like I'd had before. I went back to getting dressed, pulling on my clothes, brushing my teeth, and dragging a brush through my hair, chopped shorter by the matron just the day before. Now it barely reached my chin, and she'd done her experimental best at hacking bangs into existence, but I'd managed to convince her to stop when they were to my cheekbones. I could sweep them to the right and deftly ignore them.

Naruto was banging on the door by the time I was finished, already impatient,

"Come on, Asuka! If we don't hurry it will be busy and we'll have to stand in line forever!"

I rolled my eyes as I swung the door open, pushing past the hyper kid,

"I'm moving, I'm moving. What happened out in the hall?"

His right hand immediately went to scratching the back of his head nervously, a surefire sign of guilt.

"Ah, well, Masu-chan and Beni-chan found frogs in their beds this morning and weren't very happy about it."

I stopped shuffling through my things, raising an eyebrow at him,

"And I'm sure you don't know anything about it, huh?"

He shook his head rapidly, plastering on his best innocent look. It wasn't bad really, large blue eyes, chubby cheeks, if I hadn't known him I would have let him get away with murder if he used that look. So I rolled my eyes again, finally finding the coin purse I had been looking for. Naruto had found it for me for my birthday earlier in the year, a chubby little squirrel. It was cute as hell, but the mouth clasped shut and you basically had to feed it the money. Kind of odd, but I thought it was brilliant. He got it at the same stand that I'm assuming gama-chan, his own frog coin purse, came from.

The kid bounced practically the entire way to the stand, and to the park as well, two sticks of dango in each hand. He was chattering on about where he'd found the frogs, having given up on playing innocent, and I observed the people around us. Very few of them were actually glaring at him, most just ignored him, keeping well out of his way. The cruel stares were few in this part of town, but they still existed. This was the only park that we could come to in peace, and that was only because of it's proximity to the Uchiha Police Headquarters. The Uchiha didn't hate Naruto, which I didn't really understand, from their point of view. Most shinobi were under the impression that one of them had controlled the fox and set it upon the village, no fox attack, no animosity. But no one had put that together yet, or they just didn't care. Naruto was treated just like any other child and excessive cruelty towards him wasn't allowed when they were present. This probably didn't do anything good for their reputation so I tried to keep the confrontations to a minimum for their sake.

Looking at him you couldn't tell that he was under stress, mistreated, and mostly unloved. I liked to think that it was because I'd done a good job to be there for him right from the beginning of everything, but it was most likely due to his resilient nature. He'd never known life without me there by him. I was already five months old when he was brought in, plenty old enough to stick to him once he became aware and mobile. I was the one who helped him learn to speak, to walk, to read, and to write, though the latter two I'd had to learn for myself first from an outside source. No one was keen to share things with him, so I learned to be his fetcher. If he was hungry then I would be the one to ask for food. As far as anyone at the orphanage was aware, I was just another orphan, no one to deny food or education.

Having been a quiet and reflective person in both lifetimes I let him ramble on, inserting comments every now and then so the 'conversation' wouldn't die out. When it came time for lunch I bought us both something small from a nearby shop and we ate that too at the park. A few hours later I bought Naruto an ice cream cone and decided to call it quits. That was the night they kicked him out.

I didn't find out until lunch the next day. Sometimes Naruto just wanders off to try to play with other kids. I'm his friend, and he sticks to me like glue mostly, but sometimes he wants variety, to make new friends and add to our little family. It doesn't work, but it doesn't stop him from trying. I didn't put it together that he was gone for good until I entered his room to wait for him there with my book. There was another kid in there. Small, brown hair, crying. New. I didn't need to ask, I could figure it out for myself. I turned around and left without a word to the kid, feeling slightly bad for not comforting him, but I had things to do. I went to my room, digging out the bag that had been passed down to me when one of the older kids had graduated from the Academy. It was meant to take supplies to and from school, but I hadn't started yet, wanting to be in the same year as Naruto.

I went through my things with an adult's eye, packing what I would need and putting back what would just be dead weight. I did the same with Naruto's things, quietly so that the crying child didn't really notice me, or perhaps he just didn't care. When I had found all that I needed I put the bag on my back and left, searching all of our usual haunts for the boy. I was mostly ignored and I didn't dare ask if anyone had seen him, I wasn't likely to get a polite response. Finally, I found him, moping on the swings at our park. I dropped my bag, sitting silently on the swing to his right, waiting for him to say something while I went over our options. I wasn't leaving him on his own, he was five years old, and while technically so was I at least I had the brain and memory of someone somewhere in their thirties. At this point Naruto knew the Hokage, the man visited him once a month at least, and only missed on his Birthday the day before because of some diplomatic thing that he'd explained weeks in advance. Technically he could go to the guy, but getting to him would be damn near impossible. The only reason cannon Naruto could just pop in was because he was a ninja and the civilian workers couldn't keep him out. While we were damn sneaky for children we hadn't yet been professionally trained. With no one to awaken our chakra we couldn't use it, even if I could feel it roiling around every-fucking-where, I just couldn't touch it. So, we could always progress like in canon. Teuchi, I think, was the one to tell the Hokage that Naruto was homeless. We already knew the ramen chef, being frequent customers at his stall. The only reason we hadn't gone for Naruto's birthday was because funds were scarce. I couldn't afford it today either and though Teuchi was known to let us run a tab I could hardly just demand free ramen. They guy had to offer. We also couldn't just pop by for a visit like we do occasionally, we'd already been a few days ago.

While I was analyzing what we were going to do with ourselves Naruto cracked. The story poured forth of the consequences of turning five years old. He was told that he was old enough to fend for himself rather than waste their resources. I wanted to punch someone, but that wouldn't do much good. So instead I stepped off the swing and picked up my backpack, rethinking the whole 'running away' thing.

"I could hide you in my room."

It as an honest offer he shook his head vehemently,

"I'm never going back there, ever."

Fair enough, really. I cast my mind about for what the hell we were going to do for food, shelter, funds, how we would end up in the academy-that would work. I checked the position of the sun compared to the Hokage Monument before grabbing Naruto's hand.

"Then we become ninjas, and we show them that they never deserved us anyway."

Seeing as Naruto is now old enough to register at the Academy he could fill out the paperwork to join the class, even if it is a bit past the enrollment date. He thought it a brilliant idea, and enthusiastically filled out his own forms beside me, excitement only dimming when he reached the address portion. Being a Chunin the guy at the desk noticed.

"We have the address for the orphanage on file, if you can't remember kid."

I snorted,

"Oishi-san kicked us out for turning five."

Naruto's genuine child reaction backed up my story, and the Chunin replaced his shock with a stoic expression.

"Ah. Just...leave that blank for now then. I'll...I'll be right back, I have some errands to run."

I had been a bit worried that he would let it slide because of any animosity felt towards Naruto, but he's a ninja living in a village filled with ninjas. If he didn't report it then it would eventually come out anyway, as well as the fact that he let it slide. We were almost able to fill the paperwork out completely by the time the Hokage himself arrived and pulled Naruto to the side. I had already been 'approved' as Naruto's friend, I'd latched onto him before I was old enough to deceive, as far as they were aware at least. But, none of that meant that I had the same relationship with the Hokage. My situation would most likely have been ignored, but I have the feeling Naruto demanded to bring me with him wherever he went.

We weren't allowed to live together, but Naruto was appeased when I was awarded an apartment in the same building, on the same floor. I was across the hall, two doors down. Normally orphans can be given apartments away from the orphanage if they attend the academy and prove that they're capable of surviving on their own, we just never got that far. The conditions placed on us for allowing us to attend, even though it was technically too late in the year, were that we would graduate with those our age, who would start the next year. I didn't bother to try to figure out the motive behind that one, I was just relieved that events seemed to be falling mostly where they should.

In the isolation of an apartment of my very own I finally felt safe writing in the notebook, the one that was wholly in a bastardized mix of French, English, and Sindarin, and that was labeled 'Gabrielle'. In it was all that was truly left of the person I used to be. All her quirks, her knowledge, even her languages. Anything interesting about her, her time period, and her world, were recorded. The knowledge that I shouldn't have was referenced to in a way that I hoped would keep it mostly safe. I wrote in several different colors, sure to make the writing itself neat, but done in spirals like the Gnomish language in Artemis Fowl. It looked like nonsense, childish art. I prayed that it would stay safe that way.

~TimeLordOfPie