Introduction
老朽夢易覚
覚来在空堂
堂上一盞燈
挑尽冬夜長
Old and withered I wake easily from my dreams
And find myself in an empty hall
Where there is but one candle
Struggling to persist in the long winter nights
(Imoto 2009, 118)
Looking for answers led her to infinite more questions.
Reincarnation, something that she only ever considered when it became a plot point in the melodramas her mom and granny loved watching, was apparently real. The alternates were that she was experiencing some bizarre dream, or she was finally driven mad.
It would explain the odd world she was still trying to understand, but weeks continued to go by and getting hurt – well, hurt.
Granted, her memories had only recently become semi-coherent again as she neared turning three years old, and her memories of being an infant this time around were nearly non-existent. It was a blur outside a few memories, but she couldn’t be certain whether they were her own memories or if her brain constructed them from shared stories. Memories like how she and her twin brother used to cuddle as babies, their mom dying during their first year of life from some form of illness, and the one time she left the house on her own only to get lost – Sakumo’s panicked expression as he let out a breath of relief engraved into her that day as she felt guilty for her actions.
Looking back, reincarnation and the resettling of her memories were likely the cause of her chronic headaches.
It didn’t matter if her early memories were truly accurate or recreations from being told stories. It was enough to convince her of her reincarnation and assured her it was unlikely that she possessed someone’s body. The actions of an even younger her sounded like things she would do. She dismissed the differences she could point to as genetics.
Dogs, for example. She liked dogs in her past life. She considered them cute and it was endearing the way they sought attention. However, she never wanted to own one for various reasons: the slobber, the hair, and the smell. The smell of dogs may as well have been the smell of a toxic swamp, yet even that unavoidable stench no longer bothered her. Contrary to her old stuffy nose, everything in her current life smelled vivid and yet even a scent she used to loathe no longer irritated her.
Yuina was heartbroken to be separated from her old family but she accepted her new family as family in her own way. It helped that she had two families before, so a third didn’t feel like a betrayal. She emotionally adopted them. Sakumo, her dad, was always present in her life, and stepped up even more after his partner’s death. It was clear he cared and wanted what was best for her and her brother. Kakashi, her brother, was scarily smart, and quick to pick up certain things. He was an eager learner and constantly wanted to prove himself in whatever ways he could. He was a big softy for praise.
She may have been projecting, but she swore the other two valued each other and their bubble of a home as much of her. An escape where the outside world doesn’t exist. A connection that no one else could invade. It was as if a force field was erected around their very existence.
She hoped it stemmed from their connection, at least. She had noted how isolated other families were too. Yuina wouldn’t know what to do with herself if their unity was a cultural phenomenon rather than an authentic bond. She liked to offer signs of affection to reassure herself.
In addition to her emotional needs, affection helped manage her security needs. Coming to terms with being born in a ninja society was hard. Home was the only play she could fully relax.
Of course, people could be spying on them even when at home, but she would go crazy if she didn’t allow herself one spot to relax. It helped that Sakumo was a registered ninja. The thought should frighten her, but he’s only even been loving to her and being a ninja meant he should know what to expect to keep them safe.
She still cursed the world for being ludicrous.
From what little Yuina knew, it was like someone mashed familiar things of various time periods and fictional settings together. There was an array of colourful buildings, yet without a sky scrapper in sight. The tallest building was a short tower owned by the government. Then even within the village’s boundaries, if a community their size could even be considered a village, were plentiful of gated communities for clan privacy. Perhaps she shouldn’t complain. Plumbing and electricity existed and were in use. Markets lined sections of the village. She had yet to see an automobile or a phone, but she had seen a T.V. in passing, though she was still unsure how that worked.
And the language! Yuina assumed it was Japanese based on the script. A language that is primarily only spoken by people within their own country. She didn’t know how it came to be, especially as allegedly a universal language, but she wouldn’t complain when kanji had so much in common with hanzi. The best ones were the characters that looked the same with the same meaning, but there were some characters that looked identical but held different meanings. To add, the language appeared to be a mixture of old and modern writing styles based on the complexity and brush strokes.
There was also a mix of scroll and book usage as if people couldn’t decide on one methodology. She assumed there may have been some pattern, like one method for official documents and one for more casual use, but there were too many exceptions that it looped back to confuse her. Many books were limited in distribution, and non—fiction was heavily in favour of shared common knowledge among the nations. That or fiction – but both could get quite expensive! She couldn’t even judge the quality of non-fiction by wondering whether if it was an accurate representation of truth of the world or some kind of propaganda. It was hard to tell when chakra existed.
Chakra – an alleged physical and spiritual energy that could achieve magical feats like defying gravity, walking up walls and on water, and powers that she compared to ancient understandings of elements.
Yuina was uncertain whether chakra was limited to such applications or if it was the extent of its usage because of the demands of a militaristic society with magical ninjas as its human resource. At least her glimpse of Konohagakure made it seem that way. Ninja was the defining industry and society was built up around that.
There was technically a Daimyo of the Land of Fire, but Konoha’s relation with them wasn’t one of servitude. It was one of accepting different roles to support a fragile power balance.
At first, training was just something to do. It wasn’t anything strenuous considering her age, but it was a blatant reminder of the world she lived in now that she had something to compare it to. As much as Yuina didn’t like feeling like a cog, doing things together as a family felt nice. She would also need it for protection. She didn’t want to be the powerless that get stomped on, even more so when she would overhear some conversations about increased political tensions with other nations meaning the threat of war was always on the horizon.
A war in an unknown world. The thought unsettled her. She wasn’t a stranger to news of war or the corruptness of humans and countries. It felt like there was always a new conflict on Earth, but she was able to avoid the direct consequences by living where she did. Aside from news, the closest connection she had was her maternal uncle who had served in the military. She saw how it destroyed his psyche. It was the deciding factor that pushed her into material science instead of psychiatry.
Such observations were easy to see. Her life would likely end in tragedy.
No, her life would likely lead to tragedy before the end if she wasn’t just a casualty.
It was all the more reason to cherish the small things.
This life would likely end in tragedy. If so, she wanted to cherish the small things while she could.
Solemness loomed over her as her head continued to throb.
“Kashi-chan!” Yuina tightly wrapped her hands around him as one of hands found its way to his head to pat his soft, floofy hair as he practiced his writing. Head pats were semi-common in this world, and she wondered whether it was to keep a distant affection – an arm’s length away. She didn’t want that distance. She wouldn’t allow the chance of letting him doubt her love. Still, Kakashi’s hair was as soft as fur, so she would use customs as an excuse to touch it. “I love you.” The warmth generating between their bodies was a reminder that everything was real.
Kakashi may be her brother, but she never got the opportunity for parenthood, leading her to think of him as a son or nephew at times. Someone to look out for and support them to grow. In the end, the exact dynamics didn’t matter. Reincarnation was weird enough as is.
“Yuina.” The impeccable naming capabilities of the Hatake’s. Crops. Scarecrow. Greens (as in vegetables).
Her fingers traced down the side of his head, past the front of his ear, down his face, before settling her hand near her other one over his chest. Yuina didn’t understand why he took on wearing a mask non-stop earlier that year. The fabric was uncomfortably thick, and she was sure his expressions would be even cuter without it. Not that she couldn’t see the advantage of hiding one’s face. She even tried to mimic him once to try to hide her appearance from herself, but she hated wearing it more than a few hours at a time.
“What? Do you not want hugs? I can hug Tou-chan instead.”
Kakashi placed a hand on her arm as she went to release him. “It’s fine, but we’re training later,” he mumbled.
Yuina grinned as she hugged him tighter. “Sorry Tou-chan. Your hug will have to wait.”
Sakumo smiled as he glanced over at his children before looking back to prevent their breakfast from burning.
Yuina leaned her head into Kakashi’s left arm and took a deep breath through her nostrils. She wanted to hold on to this. She wished the outside world didn’t exist. To continue seeing the side of her family others won’t get a chance to see.
Even if this world was cruel, this home was her source of warmth and kindness.
If only it could last forever.