Kishi Kaisei (Various!Naruto x Reader)

Prologue

        You'd like to think you had a fulfilling life.

Your needs were met, your desires were attained... Perhaps you had a few regrets (who doesn't?), but overall, life had treated you good, considering what it could have been.

Of course, it's a given that your life wasn't perfect.

Your family consisted of only three members, living in an apartment at Seoul, Korea. Father was... not in the family picture, you were not close with your younger sister, and as for Mother, well...

Mother was not a bad person.

She had no criminal records, she didn't have any discernible enemies-- perhaps that one co-worker could be considered that, but that wasn't Mother's fault. She was the average, run-of-the-mill, model citizen that paid taxes and worked for her keep. She did what was expected of any parent and provided all your basic necessities.

She bought you clothes appropriate for each season, supplied food and water, paid rent to keep a roof above your head, and even enrolled you in private schools. She taught you how to clean up after yourself, use the microwave to reheat leftovers, and basically raised you to be independent.

Mother was not a bad person, but despite all her good intentions, Mother was not a good mother.

(You learned this too late.)

She worked late, taking on extra shifts at times, just to make ends meet. That meant she was absent from home far more than you would have liked. It wasn't like Mother was worried about leaving you alone though; she knew you were gifted the moment you uttered your first words.

At only six years old, she passed down the responsibility of raising your younger, still in diapers, sibling to you. You found it hard to keep up with school and still have time for yourself at the end of the day with all this in mind.

You brewed resentment for your younger sister; for, she robbed you of your childhood-- all the good memories a child should get with their parent.

(It was Mother who you should've resented.)

At seven, when you continued to have consistently high scores in school, Mother hired a piano teacher to indulge you in your spare time. You took to the lessons like a fish in water.

It didn't take long for you to realize that you liked working with your hands. You tried asking Mother for art classes, but she told you that art was an aimless endeavor. So, as a side hobby, you taught yourself how to draw.

(Mother was often disappointed in her own life and failures, so she dedicated her adult life to imposing her unaccomplished dreams on you.)

At eight, when your piano skills were passable enough for a contestant, she started signing you up in local competitions. The first time you won the first-place prize money, Mother looked at you with such pride. It made your heart soar, as it was the first time since your younger sibling came around that you felt seen by Mother.

Mother started paying more attention to you, and you had no qualms accepting it.

(There is a fine line between being proud of someone and loving someone. It's a line that often blurs in a child's mind when they don't know any better.)

At nine, you continuously excelled in your studies, and in a desire to please Mother, you skipped grade levels to save tuition money. You did not fail your goal.

Mother was now frequent at home.

(You knew Mother didn't love you, but if you continued to please her, maybe she would.)