𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐎 | {𝟏}

𝕀ℕ 𝕎ℍ𝕀ℂℍ 𝕋ℍ𝔼ℝ𝔼 𝔸ℝ𝔼 𝕐𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕊 𝕋ℍ𝔸𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝕊𝕊

It took a while. You know. For it to sink in.

That I had lost both my families in one night.

I only had Naruto left- and he didn't even know me. Let alone of my existence.

I wondered a lot. Those first few weeks. Stuck in a loop. Depression was SHIT as a child- and it didn't help that everyone was still reeling from the attack.

I wondered often if Minato and Kushina would've been okay, and ALIVE, if my parents were alive as well right now. I wonder, if I wasn't reborn- I would've died alongside my parents. Maybe I wasn't supposed to live past 5 months. Maybe that's why the Jikanoni clan was never brought up- because they were all murdered by that THING the night of the Kyuubi attack.

I squeezed my fists, letting my wails turn into hiccups and curling on my side on my cot the orphanage had given most of the babies. The something that broke inside of me when seeing my parents sacrifice their lives for mine sharpened. The glass pieces turning jagged and making a protective shield around my heart. I felt anger begin to burn beneath my skin, replacing the utter desolation I felt, my chakra swirling in response...and I knew.

Fuck it. Who cares if I was supposed to die? I'm not. I'm not and I'm alive even though my family is DEAD- I'm not. (Oh God Mom, Dad, Why'd you do it?) My mother and father protected me with their last breaths. They sacrificed everything so that I would live.

And live I would. Live- and kill whatever killed my parents that night. Whatever it was- it should learn to finish the job, because I wasn't going to hesitate the next time I felt its chakra.

| | | | |

After that night, it was different. After their death...things were different. Which- yeah, duh. I was still only technically 6 (5 1/2 but who gives a crap about details) months old in this body, regardless if I had the memories and rough maturity of a 17 year old. It was...hard. But not as hard as it would have been if I was a real baby. If I was a real baby I would never have been able to remember their faces. If I was a real baby I'd be less concerned about what the Hell I was going to do about my living situation, and more concerned about where my parents went.

Even so, grief sucked.

I mourned for my second parents. The life I had lost. The knowledge that had died with them. Also- the pain that injecting their chakra into me had caused, because really that hurt SO BAD. Anger helped. As it simmered beneath my skin and kept me going. I knew it was unhealthy- but it helped so I didn't give two fucks. I still cried a lot for them the next few months though.

I almost felt bad for the orphanage caretakers- then remembered how they treated Naruto and screamed twice as loud.

Yeah. I was a petty bitch like that.