A CHILD'S BOOK
The next few months passed by quickly for Minato. He got used to the sirens, and the softness of Baba-san's voice when she told him stories of the great and loyal shinobi and the quiet happenstance of his life.
He turned four, and the celebration was small and welcoming. There was little he remembered about his birthdays before, but he had the distinct feeling that his birthday was much calmer and smaller. It was nice and he welcomed it.
However, he was still dealing with the changes. Growing older led to its own awareness. Which was strange because he was still so young he barely had control over his own body.
So strange it was, to live in such a eccentric place with constant references to violence, but shrouded in normality. Minato would wake up from naps to Fugaku discussing long-gone battles from the First Shinobi war, and the techniques used in them.
Such as this morning. He still remembers the nonchalant way Fugaku spoke of these shinobi choking to death from poison, to how Baba-san would account for symptoms the book didn't point out always created a disposition in Minato's head. Every time he would turn around and see how they treated misery as something so... expected left him feeling lost.
How utterly abnormal it was, his mind kept pulling apart the differences. Being so young left him with ample time to think about this. Fugaku was his friend, yes, but the other boy disturbed him. He was so young but so attuned to suffering. His empathy was being scorned from him, and Minato was not sure how to stop it, or the capability to do so.
This did not stop Fugaku from trying to do the same thing for Minato. He was not sure if it was the other boy's way of looking out for him- trying to prepare and desensitize him, or if it was so normal for him that he saw nothing wrong in telling a child how to kill people.
Such as now.
"No, that grip is weak." Fugaku snapped at Minato before grabbing his wrist to fix his fingers. "It'll be slapped out of your hand before you can slice anything."
Minato wanted to pout, or do anything but learn something that would so obviously point to him harming another person, but the implications of being unprepared won over his sense of morality.
And Fugaku was so annoying when Minato did not listen to him.
"Is this better?" Minato asked slowly, with an attempt to ease his voice into being as understandable as possible. His brain worked faster than his child body, and lately, he had caught himself speaking differently than what he meant to say. More abrupt and short sentences, barely understandable.
Like how he assumed children his age actually talked.
It was stupid.
Fugaku scowled at him. He grabbed the kunai from Minato's hand and made him make the grip again. He was right, it did feel more stable. "Yes, now throw it."
There was another thing that was growing to disturb Minato. It was nothing akin to his surroundings, but something he noticed about himself.
His ability to learn.
He was not quite sure what it was, whether it was his adult knowledge mixed with a child's ability to learn, or that he had a higher capacity to learn, he was not sure.
But Minato was able to recall things much easier than he did in his past life. This little thing did not bother him at first, since with the confusion of his thinking capability being barred by his limitations he had not noticed it.
It was not that he necessarily was smarter and processed better than Before... no that would be stupid to say. He was still a toddler with an undeveloped brain. It was just strange he was able to recall such complex things at this age. It often left him with headaches.
Now, however, he was able to recall most things his mother would read him about his book. He was memorizing kanji far faster than even Baba-san had expected, and his ability to recognize patterns was...
Did Minato have a 'better' brain in this universe or something? Was the concept of intellectualism truly a genetic one? This line of thought was not one he was willing to go down on at the moment, because the thought of the mind being truly different from the soul was...
Huh. Maybe it was because Minato suspected in his last life he had ADHD, even though he never got tested. In this body, Minato definitely did not have ADHD.
Even though he was a toddler and it was sometimes hard to focus, his brain was far more silent than Before. Easier to not be compulsive or restless, or feeling as if he was falling off and on the edge every little moment.
At least that was a positive to this whole rebirth thing.
It was a normal day when it finally happened, and the mild fear that had been building in Minato gave way to the expectation of being caught being abnormal.
Father and him had been walking together at the park before. The man had told him all about his own childhood where there was an actual river, and not the little ones that ran through various parts of Konoha now- rivers in which the land parted for them and they pushed to erode their own path through the continent.
He obviously did not tell Minato about the obvious struggle that was underlined there, since Minato imagined living in a war-torn nation was akin to a version of hell for a civilian. His father never told him anything cruel or harsh at all, and Minato selfishly welcomed that kindness. Maybe for his father's sake more than his own.
So that comfortable feeling continued the next day, and he had not thought anything of it when he started to read out loud to Baba-san until the woman stopped him.
"Minato, how long have you been able to read this?" she asked smoothly, with not a hint of scorn, but his back straightened without his permission. He distinctly felt like he was in trouble.
"It is a child's book," he defended.
She stared at him. "Yes, it is, for someone a couple of years older than you."
He closed the book and wrung his hands in response. He felt even more foolish for being obvious with his anxiety to a woman who had been trained and acted her whole life to push down her emotions.
He did not know what to say to that. For some reason, his mouth became dry and partially scared. He had no reason to be intimidated by Baba-san as she had never caused harm to him, but it crept up on him like a silent force.
"Minato, the fact that you understand what I am saying is sign enough that you are... unique. Children your age are counting to ten and figuring out how to hold a pencil. Did you not question why your mother shelters you so?"
Minato felt a small rush of relief that Baba-san was implying he was just a rather intelligent child than what he had assumed she had finally figured out he was an... anomaly.
"Is it bad?" he could not help but ask. Her face did not show any change to his question.
"You will have to learn how to hide how much you know, Minato. People take advantage of children like you, civilian and bright. There are rarely any kids like you. Or well, I guess that annoying white-haired brat counts."
"So what can I do?" Minato asked, feeling uneasy. He was not a true prodigy, and hoped it would not be so obvious as he grew older. Of course, he was catching and remembering things far more than he did before and he had the advantage of being an adult in his past life, but how far would that bring him compared to other, actual geniuses?
"That is what we will work on. You have seven months until you are admitted to the Academy, and I will help you regulate your emotions and reactions," she said as if it was akin to learning how to wash the dishes.
What?
"I thought I was... too smart? Why do I need to reg-regu..." he tried to repeat what she said, but the long word got caught in his mouth. He saw Baba-san's face soften.
"It will not have to be much. You play the act of a child rather well." A chill raced down Minato's back, and his face flushed at her words. "If anything, we will have to work on you acting more... child-like than you already do. You are kind, and that will make it easier." the old woman said, and she put his book up and pulled out her drawing set.
The implications of her statement disturbed him. That she was inferring he played the act of a child, especially if she had no inclination that he was not fully a child and that she said being kind would make it easier to play that act further.
As if he would grow out of it. She handed him the brush without a second for him to contemplate more.
"Now, let us begin, Minato."