A MOTHER'S WARMTH
ARC ONE: REBIRTH
It was not an easy process, leaving the resoluteness of the darkness and eternity of nothingness that had become his normal. It was also not a willing one.
One second, he was in that inky dark Void, with no skin and flesh under it to call his own. The next seconds were not seconds at all - but a confusing mass of time that was not discernable or easy to understand.
There was no sudden shift in his awareness. A squirming creature of an empty soul. His mind had not even comprehended what he was before, in that deep black, and venturing from it did not clarify anything.
There was just one thing: the feelings of sensations and surroundings. However, he was not able to... to know. To understand.
It was a mess.
It was hell.
He does not know how to describe what it was like to live with a mind that could not process itself and its surroundings. Maybe in the emotions: fear, confusion, pain, terror-
Or maybe in the flashes. Of hands and words.
Slowly, he became aware that he realized what was happening, but his body and mind were too weary to analyze it.
Later, he would realize it was because he was a baby and his mind was developing. The fanfics in which the babies remembered being born were lies. The mind of an infant is one of torturous unawareness and blurred living. It cannot process the mind of an adult.
It was his new mother that eventually forced his world to be solid. In the mess that was his new brain and baby body, which he had to accept that finally was happening, she was a constant presence.
She fed him, held him to her like a treasure, kissed the top of his head in blessings, prayed for him, and-
Even in his past life, his fault was that he loved far too easily.
He was now Namikaze Minato, a small boy a few months past his second birthday. His world was eating, sleeping, and activities he refused to think about due to the lack of control of his bodily functions.
His world was also defined by three people. His mother, the old hoot that watched him, and his father who was absent most of the time.
Mother always made sure that he was taken care of. Throughout the day, either she or an elderly woman with weathered hands took care of him. It was quiet, soft, and silent. He was grateful for that, in the beginning, since everything around him was so utterly overwhelming that he could hardly process it at the best times.
Such as it was now.
The soft sounds of his mother's footsteps disturbed the air as she approached through the door. "Did he sleep all day?"
Ah, the sun had indeed gone down.
He had grown to recognize the cadence of her walk, her tired gait slow and heavy but always sure. It was a comfort to his child, a lizard-brain dependent on protection. That was his mom, the woman who birthed and loved him. The bond was no struggle to submit to.
Minato was tired and did not have the energy to see how his other caretaker reacted, but he still sat up to peer at my mother's figure. She was the type of woman that he would have smiled at before the Void. When he was a meddling do-gooder in the carefree way he had lived as a young adult before he got dumped into the toddler soup he was now.
She was upright, tall as a tree, and her eyes would always focus on him when he was in the room. He also assumed she was a nurse since she would be gone long hours during the day or night and always came home in white scrubs in the mixed style that somehow mimicked a kimono, but was truly nothing like it. She also had textbooks casually spread through the house, and she often smelled like chemicals.
Sharp eyes. He had stolen a chance to look in a mirror a few weeks ago and knew he got his coloring from this woman who would cradle him in her arms like he was something precious.
Her darker skin, tan in a way he never achieved in his past life, with her almost pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes. It was like his father's genes did not even try to contribute anything.
"Minato," he heard her soft voice say, and he blinked bleerily up at her. It was weird to be so small, but he was growing used to the strangeness of everything around him. Everything was wrong. Why not one more thing?
"Yes?" he said, his baby mouth failing to articulate anything with any grace. It was unfortunate, but he was working on it.
"Did you sleep all day?" Mother asked with a hint of disappointment on her face.
"I drew." he protested, but a sense of shame gripped him still. Minato was always worrying her: with his laziness and abnormalities. When she thought he was not listening she would often talk about how he was different from other children.
It made him feel simple and stupid for not managing his gummy baby smiles at her more often.
Her profession, whatever it was, led her to realize that her son was not normal. 'He seemed more patient than other children,' or she said, 'and only threw fits when he was overwhelmed rather than when he did not get his way.'
She said he was still. Still and somehow so curious.
Most of his life had passed in a blur, so he could not remember all that she was talking about. However, even though his life was full of numbness and then overstimulation, he was always asking her questions.
She had learned that when he pointed at something, he was asking a question as to what it was, what it did, and how it worked. That was how he distracted himself from the utter boredom of being a toddler who could not function in his body yet.
"So you did. Good job. Sakura-san, thank you for watching him during my shift today." the woman said, bowing slightly and offering a covered plate of food that he could not recognize by scent alone.
"It was no trouble. He is like a ghost, sleeping away. I have never met a toddler so lazy besides the Nara. Even they run through those damned forests of theirs." her voice spoke out bluntly. Minato flinched minutely. "You will have trouble forcing him to work when he is older. Sad, since he has such a hardworking mother."
Ah, that woman's voice would cut far more if he was not some foolish adult stuck in a toddler's useless body.
The woman was stern, and often casually insulted his lazy character without prompting. However, Minato assumed she complained about everything. He did not know her name or who she was, but she was a jaded woman who was firm but gentle with him.
His mother called her Sakura, for the pink pendant the proud woman wore in her hair, but that was not her name.
Even though the woman was old and hunched, fingers wrinkled and weathered, she barely made a sound. It took Minato forever to recognize that.
His mother hummed as she swooped up to pick him up like he weighed nothing. Huh, he probably did not. There was a chance she had to lift people twice her body weight at the hospital anyway.
"Try not to choke on your bitterness, Sakura. It is a beautiful day outside." his mother spoke softly, humor in her tone. Minato giggled, and the old lady glared at him which made him giggle more.
That old woman obviously adored him. She let him sleep to his heart's content when she was not trying to teach him how to read, and in his blurry memories, she had helped his mother teach him how to waddle around.
"Bye bye Baba!" he said in a happy croon as his mother grabbed his care bag on the ground.
"Hn," the old lady said and turned away from her neighbors stoically.
His mother tickled him gently. "See you tomorrow, Sakura-san."
Then they were off back to their home.
Minato was not unhappy with his new life. There was something off, for sure, and he had not caught on yet, but Minato loved his mother. He loved his Baba despite her crabbiness, and because he was a child, he was able to enjoy that simple life despite his pain.
Even if he was stolen from his previous life, he would live the best he could. With that resolution, it was easy to fall asleep in his mother's arms as she sang a lullaby to him. Something about distant warriors and tales of powerful abilities.
He felt so scared and alone. He was not immune to the fact that he was a child in his mother's arms, looking for warmth and nurturing kindness. He leaned into the woman's warmth and let the rest of the world fade away.