One year had passed since Derrek Berg had died.
Or rather…
since Shizuku Uchiha had been born.
Over the past twelve months, there wasn’t much to do as a baby besides sleep, eat, and observe, so she spent most of her time watching the world around her.
One thing she noticed almost immediately was that this world didn’t quite look how she’d imagined.
It wasn’t anime.
Everything looked…
real.
The closest comparison she could make was that reality seemed to have a little more depth; everything was sharper.
Colors were slightly more vibrant, forests seemed impossibly lush, and the night sky was very odd-looking compared to her last life.
It was noticeable enough that any person who saw what her old world looked like would be shocked.
She noticed another thing that seemed very different from the anime.
The Leaf Village was far larger than it had ever appeared in the anime.
Entire streets stretched farther than she could see, filled with houses, markets, restaurants, and training grounds.
Children ran through the streets pretending to be shinobi.
Merchants loudly advertised their goods.
Every now and then, a ninja would leap across the rooftops before disappearing into the distance.
It all felt…
surprisingly normal.
Her parents, both chūnin, were usually away on missions or helping with village duties.
They weren’t gone often enough for her to feel like she was being neglected, but they had fairly busy schedules.
When they were home, however, they always made time for her.
Her father would proudly lift her onto his shoulders while her mother couldn’t stop fussing over whether she had eaten enough.
It was…
nice.
Far nicer than she’d expected.
It was something she wished she had in her past life.
One evening, while lying in her cradle, she overheard her parents talking.
“…The Academy’s enrollment passed three thousand students this year.” “I heard they might need to expand another building if it keeps growing.” Shizuku’s eyes nearly opened.
Three thousand?
That…
actually makes way more sense.
One of the biggest plot holes she’d always noticed in Naruto was the population.
The village was supposed to be one of the Five Great Hidden Villages.
It sent ten to fifteen thousand ninja to fight in the Fourth Ninja War.
Yet the Academy had always looked like it had a hundred students at most.
That never added up.
But three thousand students?
That sounded believable — actually, it sounded more realistic.
The village itself also felt enormous.
Much larger than anything shown in the anime.
Maybe the village shown in the anime was not true to its actual size…
Or…
Maybe this isn’t the Naruto world that I know.
The thought lingered in her mind.
The major points of the village were here.
The Uchiha Clan.
The Hokage Monument.
The shinobi.
The Academy.
Everything fit.
But it still seemed very odd that there was such a big difference.
I guess I’ll find out eventually.
“There’s my precious granddaughter!” Shizuku internally sighed.
Here we go again.
Her grandmother swept her into her arms before Shizuku even had time to run away.
People in this world grew up slightly faster, so she could walk even though she was only a year old, albeit not that fast.
“There she is!
Grandma missed you so much!” …You saw me yesterday.
Her grandmother didn’t seem to care.
She carried Shizuku around the house as if showing off the greatest treasure in the universe.
“My adorable little Shizuku!” I’m starting to understand why babies cry.
Still…
Shizuku couldn’t bring herself to dislike the older woman.
She genuinely cared.
Even if she hugged slightly too tightly.
A loud cry echoed from another room.
Her grandmother smiled.
“Oh!
Looks like your little brother is awake.” Brother?
Right.
About two months ago, her mother had given birth again.
It was awkward when she was first born because her parents were going at it very often, and she had to listen to it since they were shameless about it, so maybe it was a good thing her mother got pregnant.
The newborn had quickly become the center of attention.
Not that Shizuku minded.
As she followed her grandmother toward her brother’s room, the words little brother brought back the memory of the day she had first learned his name.
About two months earlier, curious, Shizuku waddled after her mother into the next room.
Her mother was already there, gently rocking the baby.
“There you are,” she said softly.
“Obito’s been hungry all morning.” Shizuku froze.
…the fuck?
Her father chuckled as he walked into the room.
“Our little Obito sure has a loud voice.” Obito…?
She stared at the tiny infant in disbelief.
Obito Uchiha?
As in…
the Obito?
Her mind raced.
So I’m related to Obito?
She had assumed her parents were just ordinary members of the clan.
Instead…
she’d somehow been born into Obito’s immediate family.
That was…
not what I was expecting.
Then another thought entered her mind.
…Actually.
If Obito really was her younger brother…
then, in theory…
I could use his Mangekyō for Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.
She frowned.
Though I might end up being the sacrifice for his Mangekyō.
No, I must let him get close to Rin so Zetsu can use her as the trigger for his Mangekyō instead of me.
She’d already died once.
She still remembered the truck.
The utility pole.
The darkness.
She had no intention of experiencing that a second time.
This world was beautiful.
It was also unimaginably dangerous.
Wars.
Missing-nin.
The Nine-Tails’ attack.
The Akatsuki.
Madara.
Kaguya.
Ōtsutsuki.
There were countless ways to die before she ever reached adulthood.
I’m scared of dying.
It was something she had thought about many times before and after her reincarnation.
I don’t want to die again.
If I’m forced to choose between my life and someone else’s…
She closed her eyes.
…I’ll choose my life every time.
Even if that meant doing something that would hurt someone she cared about.
Even if I have to kill my brother for his eyes.
Then another question surfaced.
Actually…
something about the Eternal Mangekyō was always slightly confusing.
Indra was supposedly the first person to awaken the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.
But if obtaining it required transplanting a sibling’s Mangekyō…
how did the first Eternal Mangekyō come into existence?
Someone had to be first.
Unless…
maybe the Uchiha bloodline has degraded over the generations.
Perhaps Indra possessed enough of whatever chakra or bloodline trait was required to naturally evolve their Mangekyō.
Or maybe he had enough Ōtsutsuki DNA to awaken it naturally.
As generations passed, that trait weakened.
Eventually, the only way to compensate was by transplanting another Uchiha’s Mangekyō.
I’ll have to research it when I’m older or figure out a way to get Orochimaru to do it for me.
The memory faded as Shizuku entered the living room.
Her little brother slept peacefully in his crib, blissfully unaware of the plans his sister was cooking up for his future.
For now…
he’s just Obito.
My cute little power u— cough — my little brother.
As the days passed, Shizuku settled into a comfortable routine.
Eat.
Sleep.
Watch.
Repeat.
She listened whenever her parents talked about anything, whether it was important or not.
She learnt the layout of the Uchiha district.
She even started speaking a few words.
For some reason, the native language spoken was English, so luckily, she didn’t have to learn a new language although the characters for writing were different.
Life was peaceful.
One afternoon, while sitting alone in the backyard, Shizuku frowned.
…There it is again.
The strange feeling.
It wasn’t inside her body.
It didn’t feel like chakra at all.
It felt…
as though something existed within her very soul.
Shizuku closed her eyes.
She instinctively reached toward it.
The sensation became clearer for only a brief moment.
Something was there.
Something inside her.
But no matter how hard she reached, it remained just beyond her grasp.
Like trying to grab something from the bottom of a lake, but you can’t hold your breath long enough.
…Not yet.
Her instincts told her she simply wasn’t ready.
Whatever this thing was…
it would take a few more years before she could truly reach it.
Maybe three.
Maybe four.
Maybe even longer.
She slowly opened her eyes.
Guess I’ll just have to wait.
There was no point in forcing it.
She had an entire childhood ahead of her.
“There you are!” Her grandmother picked her up before she could even protest.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for my precious granddaughter!” Shizuku looked toward the sky and internally sighed.
Some things never change.