Prologue

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Italicized (Can't understand)

 I've never liked, nor trusted people in my lifetime.

Maybe that's why things turned out like this.

I didn't put my trust into people, and now I don't have anyone to rely on. That is my fault, but it still makes my heart hurt. I was alone and afraid. Knowing no one would come and save me, or anyone to come and rescue me.

I began coughing wildly, a burning sensation in my lungs. From both my screaming and smoke inhalation.

No matter how much I cried, I knew no one would hear, no one would care. So, what was I screaming for?

I hacked again, and again, like a broken record on repeat. This heat was unbearable.

Was I even being burned alive?

Were my legs even being crushed under this wooden beam?

At first, it wasn't too bad. It was like going under to have my wisdom teeth removed. Numb, incapable of feeling anything.

After a while though, I just felt tired. So, so tired. There was a strange twang in my lungs as I felt myself slowly drift away.

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Everything was dark. Pitch black. I looked around, floating about in the abyss.

There was nothing, nothing but a bright light. I watched as it grew closer and closer to me. I could hear faint, incoherent whispers.

I felt myself becoming engulfed in the light's warmth. I touched it, realizing that this indeed was light. But it wasn't the warm sunshine I'd anticipated it to be,

it was blazing fire.

"I believe in second chances."

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I wailed, my lungs beginning to fill with ash and smog. My body felt so small and frail. I screamed, I begged, I pleaded. I was helpless.

The greedy flames licked and lapped at my skin, melting it away.

Wait. Why did I hear a baby crying?

Within moments, I heard soft coughing, but it wasn't my own. My body was scooped up and carried away. I took in a deep breath, at least I tried.

I heard different people bustling around me. Rushed and hurried voices overlapping one another. I was so tired.

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I awoke, finding myself in a humid building with a breathing mask over my mouth and nose. I sucked in cool, crisp air. There was a slight prick in my arm and something pinched on my finger. My whole body felt sore.

"Do you know who her parents are?"

Who is that? What language are they speaking? I can't understand.

"No, she was found, being held by an unidentifiable body, presumably one of her parents. Although because of her wounds, I don't know how well her chakra will develop."

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The afterlife was a strange place. Everything was blurry, and I just felt so weak and slow, like I could barely move. Was I still in the fire? I could feel my legs. Then why did my lungs still burn?

I would cry, even if I felt warm and free from harm. Everything just set me off.

I would feel particularly feverish, and the memories would come flooding back.

It was around this time, that I realized I wasn't dead. I was very much alive.

It should have made sense to me from the start. I first thought this when I felt a whirlpool in the pit of my stomach. I didn't have much to do, I just lied there. So I cried, and in any case I would hear someone snap at me quite rudely.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Those words would fill me with a familiar sense of Deja-vu.

The shouting would make me sob, and then the cycle continued of consistently bickering over one another.

This would result in me being promptly fed and then being placed on the floor to play, although I never really found enjoyment in this playing, not like before. The other kids around me just seemed odd. Were they normal? They had such funny voices, and they talked so much. They were always up to something.

These sounds drove me insane, so much so I would start bawling if their voices jumped above a certain octave.

It took me a while to figure out that I was the weird one.

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"Himoko! Come work on your Kanji!" Called my caretaker. I stumbled out of the shared room, where the rest of us girls were playing, and ran into the kitchen. For some reason, I was the only one Reena-san taught writing to. Was I slow in school?

Normally she wasn't fond of me, but this was the one thing she wanted me around for. In a silent mannerism, she handed me a pen, ink pot, and paper, shoving a book in my face and showing me which Kanji to copy down.

I never understood why she did that.

I didn't understand a lot when I was younger.

Edited


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