The Story of Mikasa Nara
The Story of Mikasa Nara
Parents: Shikarou & Hinami
Shikaku - 4
Ensui - 2
Mikasa - born
The First Year
Her consciousness shifts in a strange way somewhere around four or five months old.
Yes, months old. As in, a baby. She’s a baby.
Honestly, she’s not even surprised. Weird shit has always happened to her, whether a product of her circumstance or restless personality, she doesn’t know. She can adapt, per usual.
It’s freeing in a way.
A fresh start has always been at the top of her to-do list— ever since she was a little kid in what was, apparently, her first life.
Here, she has doting, reliable parents that see to her every passing need. Once she overcomes the bizarre nature of diapers and poor motor control, it’s actually pretty nice.
Kaa-san weans her off of bottles and into mush, reads to her in a sweet, sing-song voice, and offers her countless toys that she half-reluctantly plays with for some form of stimulation.
Papa seems more of the quality time type. He never puts her down when he’s around; he carries her everywhere, both inside and outside the home. He introduces her to the vague blurs of people she barely pays attention to, though she’s inwardly pleased that he never alters his voice to speak to her like the strangers do. Nap time is a regular thing— almost always resting on Papa’s chest as the both of them sleep in the sunshine, the gentle breeze caressing her ridiculously soft skin.
It’s foreign, even from her last life, but it’s… very pleasant.
She may or may not be addicted to him.
That said, it’s all fun and games being reincarnated until one day her brain decides to actually pay attention to the two other children constantly whirring in and out of her life.
She’s sitting on Papa’s lap, reading a scroll filled with suspicious and violent language that is most likely well above her infant pay grade, when a fight breaks out on the floor of the sitting room.
The smaller one—the toddler—shrieks and cries while the elder throws up both hands in innocence with wide eyes that latch onto Papa in a silent plea.
Papa lowers his scroll, shifting her against his chest as he leans forward to warningly say, “Nara Shikaku.”
“I didn’t do anything!” the older boy harries to answer, glancing at his brother—their brother. “Ensui kept trying to steal my kunai and he’s not allowed!”
Papa responds with the same low, smooth voice he always uses, but she’s well tuned him out because… huh.
That’s, well, not exactly promising, but… she might be able to enjoy this world until her next death that’s definitely happening before she even hits puberty. Awesome, cool, perfect.
Filled with adrenaline that has no appropriate release in her teeny, tiny body, she tells herself fuck it.
The boys are both silently listening to their father’s chastising, but she magnanimously decides that she is now, officially, more important.
With a tug to Papa’s shirt, she gains his attention. The room quiets and her Papa glances down at her with a raised brow, scroll long forgotten and set aside.
“Papa,” she murmurs, enjoying the first sound of her new voice and letting that grain of positivity take root in her to snuff out any unbecoming reality checks or mental breakdowns.
Papa’s lips part, a spark lighting in his eyes. She wonders how old she is. Is it normal for her to be speaking anytime soon?
Oh well, too late.
“Yes?” he answers her just as softly.
She turns to point across the room. Both of her brothers freeze, the same gentle shock rippled over their faces. “Shika,” she whispers, moving her finger to point appropriately. “Sui.”
Then she looks back up at Papa, giddy with the thrill of fully interacting with them for the first time instead of passively taking in her surroundings and letting her family do with her what they please. She turns her finger to herself and tilts her head.
Papa stalls for the barest of breaths before his lips slowly rise up in a small, pleased smile.
“Mikasa,” he tells her. “Your name is Mikasa.”
She nods at that before reaching for his scroll that’s as big as she is and definitely has confidential written at the top of it. Carefully, she brings it to her lap, making sure that it’s upside down, and settles back against Papa’s chest once again.
There’s an awkward pause of no one moving, no one making a sound.
Then Shikaku is launching to his feet with a shout of “Kaa-san!” while Ensui daringly toddles after him with as much haste as his little legs can muster. “Mika-chan said her first word!”
Papa simply turns the scroll right side up and places a gentle kiss to the crown of her hair, holding her a little tighter than before.
She’s Nara Mikasa now— youngest child and only daughter of the Nara clan head in a made up world of ninjas and magic.
She’s fine.
One Year Old
Much to Mikasa’s glee, there’s a small fight over who gets to carry her to the park for her first time.
Kaa-san quickly shuts it down, muttering to herself about where her Nara boys have gone. In the end, Shikaku reasons that it’s essentially weight training and will be a benefit to his future.
Smartass.
Because she’s an incredible mother, Kaa-san is quick to volunteer to carry Ensui on her back the same way Shikaku has Mikasa strapped to his. The carrier she used with Mikasa so far is easily rearranged to be worn like a cloth wrap backpack and Shikaku tests it out with a few twists that make Mikasa hold onto his neck.
Two Years Old
A sudden change in routine leaves Mikasa frustrated.
Papa still disappears to work, which she knows is at Hokage Tower as the jounin commander just as well as she knows that she’s not supposed to know that.
Except today, he’s taking Shikaku with him.
Mikasa doesn’t hide her displeasure.
She accepts being handed off from Papa to Kaa-san after eating breakfast in his lap the same way she always does, but when they all march toward the genkan to start wishing her eldest brother a good first day at the academy, she wriggles and fusses to be let down.
Kaa-san is, however, the enforcer in the family and does not relent— only scolds her to settle while Ensui nervously holds onto their mother’s dress below.
Papa watches her endearingly, putting a hand at the back of her head before kissing her hairline to say goodbye.
“It’s fine, Mika-chan,” Shikaku assures her, his tone bored and neutral. “I’ll be back later.”
Unfortunately, the restless feeling in her chest doesn’t care about things as silly as facts.
They leave quietly with little embellishment aside from Mikasa causing the equivalent of a scene to a Nara.
She picks up on her fussing the moment the door is closed and Kaa-san finally lets out an exasperated huff and sets her down. Her pitiful muscles take forever to slide the door back open enough to slip through, but she endures and plants herself on the edge of the engawa, not daring to let herself actually chase after them.
That would be embarrassing.
The emotion of it all is confusing. She’s managed to take this life in stride and enjoy it for what it has been so far, but there’s always been an element of surreality.
She sniffles, horrifically aware that there are legitimate tears falling down her chubby toddler cheeks. Wiping them away in silence, she watches until Papa and Shikaku disappear from view.
Someone sits beside her.
“S‘okay, imouto,” Ensui whispers, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Nii-san will be home soon.”
She doesn’t answer him. It’s fine when she’s just being needy and petulant and self-absorbed, but when there’s a part of her actually hurting to see them leave…
She doesn’t want to speak about that.
So she leans into Ensui’s touch and remains quiet and unmoving. Even after he leaves, she sits on the edge of the engawa and stares into the distance, painfully aware of how much she cares.
She cares about this new family— this family she’s spent two years with and treated like they’re imaginary and it’s all just a game or a joke.
But she— she loves them.
She really, really loves them.
Shikaku is, in fact, the first one to return home. He spots her from the long road leading to the Nara compound gate and she can see the deep sigh that fills his chest.
His lips move, muttering.
Troublesome.
When he reaches the house, he walks straight up to her and drops his weight over her, glomping her back into the smooth wood of their porch.
She doesn’t have it in her to squeal or giggle or shove him away. Her arms move on their own to wrap around her brother’s neck and hold him close, even as he pretends to smother her.
After a second sigh that feels less frustrated and more relieved, he adjusts to pull her up with him and hold her at his waist.
“Silly imouto.”
She rests her head on his shoulder and lets him carry her inside.
That night, Papa keeps her on his chest after her typical bedtime. Shikaku and Ensui have both fallen asleep and Kaa-san has fussed over her eating extra dinner and keeping a blanket around her as if it’s even cold with the approaching summer before announcing that she would be retiring to bed early.
Papa holds one hand on her back as she lays against him, face tucked beneath his chin where his short beard tickles her skin.
“Hime,” he murmurs, like he always does when they’re alone. “Shikaku will be okay.”
She doesn’t answer— not because she can’t, but because she can’t tell if he’s saying it for her or himself.
It’s better if he’s focused on her worries instead of his own.
The next day, after a less eventful farewell to Papa and Shikaku, she learns that Ensui and Kaa-san weren’t hovering over her on the engawa all day for a reason.
Shikaku is six and in the ninja academy after two years of training at home.
Ensui is four and it’s his turn to start learning.
He and Kaa-san are in the backyard. When both the front and the back doors are open, there’s almost a direct line of sight between Mikasa’s spot on the engawa and Kaa-san’s chosen seat to direct Ensui through small drills and lessons.
For the first time in her new life, Mikasa feels alone.
It’s not completely unwelcome, as familiar as it is from her previous life, but that constant itch of restlessness creeps up on her and she can’t sit idly by and do nothing.
She’s lazy in many ways much like a Nara, the same as she was in her past life, but she’s definitely never handled boredom well.
Her mother is generally as overbearing as she is kind, so the possibility of her simply walking out back to post up beside her brother and practice alongside him feels slim to none. Still, she’s got to start learning something too or she’s going to go insane.
Naps aren’t really her thing, never have been. They only benefit her in this life because of the proximity to Papa. His presence is soothing.
She has a bit of theoretical knowledge on the possibilities of chakra in this world, all based completely on fiction and the imaginations of fans around the globe, but it’s still a starting point.
Deciding that the ire of Kaa-san is a higher risk than any possible damage to her person, she sets out to find some privacy.
Her room is upstairs with everyone else’s and, at her current stature, the stairs are one of her most dreaded enemies. Instead, she toddles over to one of Papa’s private rooms for shogi and fancy meetings with important people she doesn’t care about, stopping by the front yard to pick up a couple of leaves.
She’ll have to have at least some kind of chakra reaction to the leaf to justify her actions if she gets caught, so she settles in to work.
Chakra is some sort of inner energy and she’s always been fairly excellent at self-reflection and general insightfulness despite her preference for being bullheaded, so she has hope that she can figure this out.
She doesn’t bother staring down at the leaf in her hand or attempting to stick it to her body anywhere. It’s pretty obvious that neither will be helpful. Eyes closed, she focuses on the leaf in her tiny palm, taking pointed, steady breaths, and looks inward.
Only to remember exactly why she’s kept herself shallow and stubborn and generally childish in her new life. Aside from the obvious guise of a toddler and all the fun and games she has with her siblings and parents, she doesn’t really want to reflect on anything.
Reflecting means acknowledging her death, the things she’s left behind, and, well, herself.
She desperately hopes that reincarnation is somewhat normal— that there are others hidden in plain sight in an infinite number of universes, because she hardly deserves to be special in such a double edged gift.
Being special makes her feel noble and heroic, but she’s really just as selfish and stubborn as she’s acted while going about the motions of a—granted, very intelligent—two year old.
She’s brash and quick to judge based on her mood. She doesn’t always wait for anyone’s opinion but her own. She’s hardly had to work for much, talent generally accessible to her in anything she’s turned her attention to.
She’s privileged and obnoxious.
Her personality is more suited to the oblivious bully or betrayer in the box office films.
She doesn’t deserve this.
A warmth fills her chest, like something tugging at her, and she can’t tell whether it’s the breaking point of her first rush of reality sinking in or if—
Her eyes open slowly, focusing on the leaf in her hand as she tugs back at the feeling. It bends to her will— not perfectly, not by any means in control, but she concentrates on the sensation and coaxes it to her palm with smooth, even breaths as she empties her mind of anything else.
After a long, drawn out moment, she dares to lift her arm and twist it to the floor.
The leaf doesn’t budge and all she can think is that she doesn’t deserve this either.
She blinks herself awake to a bright room— brighter than any they have at home. A flash of a memory flits through her mind, but it’s gone the moment she sees Papa seated at her bedside.
The steady beep of a heart monitor is the only sound.
Kaa-san is draped over the other side of the bed, her hand resting on Mikasa’s leg as she naps in front of both her brothers asleep on the stiff-looking chairs against the far wall.
Papa watches her gather her bearings in silence.
The realization of what likely happened brings unwanted tears to her eyes in fine pinpricks.
“Papa,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
He reaches for her instantly, his hand cupping her full face in his palm. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here.”
“M’sorry.”
His thumb traces over her cheek and his eyes change more than she’s ever seen them.
He’s sad— truly, deeply upset.
“Say that again when your mother’s awake,” he tells her, his tone not matching his frown. “You scared her to death.”
She cries then. It’s a childish, cleansing cry, but she doesn’t try to hold it in.
Kaa-san wakes to the fuss, sitting up to show off her red-rimmed eyes. “Mika,” she breathes before dropping her head down on Mikasa’s chest. “You’re awake.”
“M’so-sorry, Kaa-san,” she whimpers while her father strokes her hair.
“Good,” her mother says wetly, rearing back to stare her down with an immeasurable, fiery love on her face. “What did you think you were doing? Do you realize what you did?”
A part of her wants to come up with an excuse, wants to act stupid, act like a normal, confused two year old would.
But both her parents know she’s far from a normal two year old by now.
“Everyone is training,” she admits quietly, looking away from both of them. “I want to train too.”
Papa’s hand stills on her hair, but Kaa-san’s eyes turn fierce.
“You’re—” she cuts herself off, sighing. “And who is training alone?”
Misaki tightens her jaw and looks down at the white sheets of her hospital bed.
“Shikaku has instructors at the academy and Ensui is with me,” Kaa-san continues. “I know you might feel a little left out, Mika, but it’s not safe for you to do these things at your age. You understand that, right? That’s why you snuck around to try your hand at molding chakra of all things? Do you even realize what could have happened to you?”
“Hinami.”
Mikasa turns toward her Papa blindly, tears already rolling down her cheeks in full rivers as she clenches her teeth over full sobs.
He accepts her, tugging her off the bed to settle her in his arms.
“You can’t do this again, Mikasa,” he warns her, even as he rubs small circles over her back and lets her weep into his chest until she tires enough to fall asleep.
The next time she wakes up, she’s back in the hospital bed, this time with a brother sleeping peacefully on either side of her.
She nuzzles into Shikaku’s shoulder and drifts away as he wraps an arm around her, holding her closer.
Bed rest is her punishment upon discharge from her moderate case of chakra exhaustion and yet she still has the audacity to fuss her way into sleeping with her parents at night and using their bed during the day.
Kaa-san checks on her frequently and there’s a stab in her chest at the thought of Ensui’s training suffering because of her dramatics. She’s carried down for lunch by her mother who manages another brief lecture about obedience and when they reach the dining room Ensui is, unsurprisingly, worried about her.
She shares a cushion with him as they eat, touching their sides at all times.
In her past life, affection had not come so easily to her. Perhaps she’s touch-starved. Here, no one knows that. They only know her as sweet little Mika-chan.
Ensui excitedly tells her about training— learning katas and an ungodly amount of exercise. She listens attentively, their mother’s eyes on them the entire time until she’s finally carried back upstairs and planted once again in her parents’ bed.
If her Kaa-san cuddles her a little harder than ever before at night, Mikasa says nothing.
Her mother’s brand of kindness is harsh, sometimes aggressive, and always at the ready to stand like a wall around the most tender of emotions.
Mikasa loves her too.
On the third day of her rest, Papa pulls her from his bed once he’s washed and dressed in uniform. She rubs an eye idly as he walks down the hall toward her and her brothers’ rooms.
“You and I are doing something special today,” he tells her, glancing at her on his hip. “What would you like to wear?”
Interest thoroughly piqued, she points to her door and waits for him to enter it before pointing again to her small chest of drawers. She tugs out a pair of white shorts meant to be worn underneath a dress, then makes a poor attempt at stripping.
Papa sighs and crouches to help.
Topless, she toddles away from him, back out into the hallway, and abruptly slams both her hands on Shikaku’s door. He opens it just as she’s reaching up for the knob.
Pinching back a grin, he mutters, “Troublesome imouto.”
“G’morn!” she chirps, barreling past him and ignoring her snail’s pace of running.
She digs through his clothes, choosing an old tee shirt. Turning to look at her brother, she holds out the shirt expectantly.
“Mika, that’s too big for you,” Papa says from the doorway. He’s made himself comfortable, leaning against the frame with crossed arms.
Shikaku understands immediately and, luckily, she’s well aware that her brothers are both extremely susceptible to tears.
Her bottom lip wobbles as she lets her arm fall slowly before bringing the shirt to her chest, holding it with both hands as she stares abysmally down at the floor.
There’s an abrupt sound, somewhere between a scoff and a sigh, and then Shikaku is kneeling to help her put on his old shirt.
It’s indeed much too big for her, but she takes a corner of the hem and tries and fails at tying a knot through her sniffling.
Eventually, Shikaku gets the memo and ties it for her so that it’s baggy, but doesn’t constrict any movement.
Her reward for him is given instantly and gladly. She reaches up to latch her arms around his neck and buries her face in his small chest.
“Thank you, Shika,” she muffles into his clothes. “Love you, Shika.”
Shikaku chuckles against her, hugging her back before nudging her over to Papa again. “I love you too, Mika-chan.”
Papa scoops her up before she can even lift her hands to request it. She stays with him through breakfast and Kaa-san dampening her hair to brush it down and then, when he moves to leave with Shikaku, he doesn’t pass her over to her mother.
He sets her down and tells her to put on her shoes.
“Train well,” he says to Ensui, ruffling his hair as Mikasa fumbles with her tiny ninja sandals.
Shikaku has to cut in and help her.
“I will!” Ensui answers, cheerful as ever. “Take care of imouto, Tou-san!”
Papa smiles at him and Mikasa wonders when the boys switched to calling him Tou-san. Then again, Ensui has always called Kaa-san, Mama.
“Of course,” Papa promises, kissing Kaa-san before picking Mikasa up again. He looks at her. “You up for spending the day with me?”
She doesn’t even have to pretend when her eyes widen and sparkle with excitement.
“Yes!”
“Be good,” Kaa-san cautions her, stroking her drying hair before kissing the back of her head. “See you all tonight.”
“Bye, Kaa-san,” Shikaku says. “Bye, otouto.”
And then they’re off— the three of them.
They walk Shikaku to the academy first, where Mikasa is instantly bombarded by Shikaku’s friends that she casually already knows the names of.
Inoichi and Chouza are both kind and sweet and pretty, but with vastly different energy levels. Chouza is fairly mellow with a warm smile, but Inoichi is eager and playful and quick to poke fun at Shikaku for Mikasa wearing his tee shirt.
Mikasa decides to hold off on her judgment of them, choosing to hide her face in Papa’s neck instead of engaging.
The brief trek over to Hokage Tower is quiet and filled with her own anticipation.
For the first time in her new life, she wants to take in as much of her surroundings as possible. She observes everyone coming and going as well as grasping the general layout of the building while guessing at how much might be hidden out of sight and reasonable expectation.
“This was my idea,” Papa tells her, speaking suddenly the moment they’re in his office and the door is closed. “I trust you to be well behaved and keep any secrets you learn to yourself. Do you understand?”
She nods emphatically, tickled by his seriousness when she knows that, to all outside appearances, she’s hardly more than a baby.
He sets her down and crosses his arms. “Book or drawing?”
Her eyes flicker to the expanse of shelving on one of the walls adjacent to his desk before she opens her mouth.
Only to close it again.
There’s a knowing in Papa’s eyes. “Book, then?”
She doesn’t dare answer him— doesn’t dare confirm that his two year old can read without any formal instruction.
When had Shikaku and Ensui started reading? She has no idea, but she does know they can both read now. Shikaku can likely read anything and understand it, at least on some level. She’s only seen Ensui ever read to her and even then, it’s children’s stories with basic sentence structure and vocabulary.
The books Papa starts to comb through are definitely not meant for children.
Mikasa fidgets with the knot in her shirt.
“How about The Fundamentals of Kenjutsu or The Divinity of Battle?”
Papa turns to her, both books in hand and his brow raised expectantly.
She looks away, quick to pout. Sinking to the floor, she pulls her knees to her chest, willing to wait him out until he drops his prodding.
Instead, he places the books on his desk currently littered with scrolls and various paperwork in neat, orderly piles, then returns to pick her up.
Unfortunately, she is putty in the face of Papa’s affections and goes with him willingly.
He settles in his desk chair with her perched on his lap, both books within her meager reach. As inconvenient as it must be, he starts his work with arms stretched around her, letting the topic linger in the air.
She reclines back into his chest and considers taking a nap as she contemplates the purpose of this cute little ‘bring your daughter to work day’.
At first, she’d been stupid enough to think it was just another gesture of love from her father that has always preferred quality time over the various acts of caretaking that her mother is so inclined for— that maybe this was his solution to keeping an eye on her while Ensui gets Kaa-san’s undivided attention for his training.
Now, though, it feels like a test.
Perhaps she really didn’t consider the consequences of toying with a toddler’s chakra blindly.
There’s definitely the possibility of it being both. Despite Papa’s generally brusque nature, he seems to have the same soft spot for her that she has for him.
She can’t even remember a time he’s ever directly told her no.
A sharp knock interrupts her train of thought and she hears the door open as she debates whether to open her eyes or not.
But surely the ruse is moot in front of ninja, so she blinks herself back into her surroundings.
“Shikarou! Is that Mikasa-chan?” A man who is obviously a Yamanaka and assumably Inoichi’s father approaches the desk with a smile and his full attention on her.
“Ah,” Papa confirms. “She’s been having separation issues, so I’m indulging her.”
The Yamanaka man coos. “A Daddy’s girl, hm? Adorable.”
Mikasa schools her reaction to the both of them. Papa is obviously lying—and possibly trying to get a rise out of her—and while she does in fact enjoy her relationship with her father in this life, it being spoken of by others makes her uncomfortable.
She turns in Papa’s lap to hide her face in his chest and one of his hands comes to her back to hold her to him on some instinct.
“Oh, you make me want a daughter, Shikarou,” the Yamanaka continues. “I never thought I’d see you looking quite so soft.”
“Did you need something, Inoue?”
Inoue huffs, but answers, “Actually, I came to invite you for a seasonal dinner. Chouto is hosting.”
“Sure, this weekend?”
“Mhm,” Inoue hums. “And all you need to bring is sweet, little Mikasa-chan.”
Mikasa answers the baiting with a tongue stuck out at her father’s friend over her shoulder before she wraps herself more thoroughly around his chest.
Papa snorts. “She’s delighted.”
Inoue laughs out loud. “Okay, okay. I get it. I’ll see you. We should spar soon, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Papa answers. “See you.”
When the door clicks shut, she unravels herself slowly. Papa takes both his hands to either side of her face and raises her eyes to look up into his.
“You’re a gift from the Sage, Hime,” he whispers, kissing her forehead. “Maybe with you here, I’ll actually be left alone for once.”
As the day passes by, they both learn he was right— it seems most shinobi of rank enough to warrant a visit to the jounin commander are quite terrified to be around toddlers.
For a particularly stubborn Uchiha, she reaches out to the man and shouts, “Play!”
That earns her an empty office and another kiss to the hair from Papa.
So begins their new routine.
“Is Tou-san’s job super cool, Mika-chan?” Ensui asks her at dinner after their second day in the new arrangement.
She doesn’t miss the interest in Shikaku’s eyes as he chews his bite of omurice.
“Yep, yep!” she chirps. “Lots of books and papers and I take naps.”
Shikaku slumps in his seat and Kaa-san side-eyes Papa. “Just you, Mika-chan?”
Mikasa grins a little too wide. “Just me Kaa-san!”
This earns her another little pat of affection from Papa and it’s well worth the white lie.