Dragonfly

Chapter Two: No Fun Allowed

I'm pretty sure I was a good kid, at least once upon a time, but for Emiko and Satoshi-my second parents-I was one-hundred percent convinced I was a veritable nightmare of a six-year-old. An absolute terror.

I drove them up the wall and I had fun doing it.

Well, except for the times when Emiko reached her limits and hauled me up onto her lap to beat my ass red.

They were good people, just a little frayed at the edges from having a wild, freewheeling daughter that had little regard for social etiquette and authority. I felt for them, really. But not enough to become the quiet, composed, polite, respectful, intelligent-the list went on, and on, courtesy Mama Emiko-child they wished they had.

It was probably because I was such an enormous handful that they never tried for more kids.

But, hey, being an only child wasn't so bad. It was new. It was nice. I didn't have an annoying older brother trying to drown me in the swimming pool for fun every single damn summer anymore!

Well, I did have something of an older brother in this life, but I'll get to that later.

About Emiko and Satoshi, though-they were both Uchiha, born and raised. Naturally pretty, just like most of the people from this godforsaken clan tend to be, but also a little weird and uptight, too, mostly because of the village politics.

Being Uchiha was no walk in the park.

Satoshi often complained to Emiko about what kinds of topics and arguments arose during clan meetings, how the village viewed them (which wouldn't get any better after Kyuubi's attack, I knew), what the Hokage should or shouldn't do, and how newly-appointed head Fugaku-sama was too lenient or strict regarding this or that policy, yada yada. Daddy was very much pro-Uchiha, being a part of the council that met often, but he was also strongly opinionated.

He worked in the Police Station with a good deal of the other Uchiha adults.

Emiko, when not over-agitated and forced to transform into a fearsome demon to maintain order in the household (again, mainly my doing), was a kind, but not overly sweet, woman. She valued hard work and didn't confine herself to being only a housewife. Her occupation was the neighborhood seamstress, handling the production of new, bland, ugly high-collared clothing for the majority of the district's population and taking care of small rips and tears that needed mending.

She was lucky I wasn't a bad hand at sewing myself, and actually enjoyed it quite a bit in my former life, otherwise when she asked me to help her it would have only caused more stress.

But she quickly learned about my dislike for the gloomy, deep and dark monotony of the "Uchiha uniform" when I sneakily weaved a rainbow of colorful threads into the clothing seams and that was the end of that.

Even though I acted like a teenager in the midst of a rebellious phase most of the time, I liked Emiko and Satoshi. They were good parents. They treated me well despite it all.

I was the only child they'd ever known-their own child, in their eyes-so I figured I owed them that much, because it was a possibility they would never have any more, being that the clan's demise was barely a decade away.

The clan's fall.

Itachi was currently four years old-if my memory wasn't faulty, he would end up eradicating the clan, including me, when he was thirteen. At least, sometime after he was inducted into ANBU. Only Sasuke, currently unborn but soon to be, would remain alive.

If I'd wanted, I could try to stop it. Influence Itachi, warn Shisui somehow and keep Danzo from interfering, throw a big huge tantrum in the middle of Konoha and scream about corrupt, foul play that would lead to murder and hard feelings and all kinds of tragedy, but...