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Izuna’s eyes widened, his Sharingan whirling frantically to existence to commit the scene in front of him into an immortalized memory. Uchiha Sasuke was the youngest of their family, and he was born prematurely. Their family worried he may grow up to be weak, easy to kill not only by the enemies of their clan but even by natural causes. However, Sasuke proved them wrong. He grew up just fine, healthy, and strong. He was called an Uchiha prodigy, a genius, and a natural talent at the tender age of three. But to his family’s distress, Sasuke doesn’t seem to care at all. Whenever praised by fellow clan members, Sasuke would merely pause and nod in acknowledgment. The young boy's lips set in a thin line showing neither pleasure nor disapproval. Izuna thought that maybe his brother... was broken. How could a child not cry nor smile, even on their birth? How could a child, who never saw war or death, have such a grim expression?

Sasuke had never cried, not even once. Not when he was born, not when their eldest had accidentally fallen on the boy, and not even when he had pierced his skin with a kunai during kunai throwing practice. He was impassive, and he held no interest. Izuna would have thought his brother to be inhuman had he not accidentally stumbled on Sasuke one day, sitting on their porch watching the setting sun paint the sky a swirl of pink and orange and purple. Sasuke’s smile was as subtle and as small as a waning moon, and as rare as a Sakura tree in bloom during winter, so Izuna… he was elated, and a shade hopeful. Maybe his brother isn’t all that broken, he still has hope. But days later, Sasuke never smiled again. Not even at the sight of the same dusk painting the sky a pretty shade of swirling pink, orange and purple.

Their youngest brother, the one he worries about most, has never smiled. But here, in the middle of a war, where death and danger stank the place like rotting flesh, his younger brother clasped in the embrace of a red-headed boy… was laughing in joy.

Uzumaki Naruto was a ball of sunshine and whirlwind of energy when he was born. On the day of his birth, the midwife was surprised because instead of crying, the red-headed babe laughed a joyous twinkling laugh and endeared himself to the clan very quickly. But the boy was a troublemaker, and not a day in the Uzumaki clan would pass without news of one of their members pranked by Naruto to circulate within their ranks. His intelligence, in the opinion of many, is low. But the people who are regularly his target for his pranks doubt this. No idiot could prank a full-grown adult (and a shinobi, no less) without their knowledge. And yet, here they were, covered in tar and chicken feathers, smelling so foul that even the oldest member of their clan whose nose have fallen into disrepair through old age could smell them. 

Tragically, they could do nothing to the boy, loved and adored as he was. Not to mention, he was showing promising signs of natural talent, a child prodigy. He has already mastered several fuinjutsu in addition to their family’s chains. The boy is becoming their clan’s pride faster than he can consume meals offered to him, it seems. It brought joy to the family. However, what strikes Mito odd is what many consider his most appealing trait. Mito only ever saw the boy smile and be joyous. Not that Mito wanted Naruto to be unhappy, it’s just… to only show joy instead of a myriad of emotions is unnatural.
The day Naruto and Mito were sent to the Senju clan, Naruto had been… less happy. Not unhappy, no, never. But the child’s smile was not as wide, and his eyes were not shining. Perhaps he was sad that he was leaving his clan, and not for the last time, Mito felt disappointed in their clan. To send a boy, a talented boy but still a boy, to war… well. Mito had no choice, and her clan had no choice if they wish to build an alliance with the Senju. They must send soldiers of their own. As a sign of goodwill, they sent their best child-soldier but kept the adults. Mito wanted to argue, but the stern gaze of her grandfather had her closing her mouth shut.

In the Senju Clan, Naruto thrived. Known to have several ninjutsu at their disposal, Naruto had taken to the Senju's teachings like fish to water. And like the Uzumaki, Naruto quickly gained the approval of many of the Senju members. Of course, Naruto wouldn’t be Naruto if he didn’t prank anyone, however, to her surprise, instead of subjecting the entire clan to a child's game, Naruto seemed to find a fixed target. 

Senju Tobirama does not like the Uzumaki brat. The boy was calculative, Tobirama concluded. Sly as a fox, and with his talents, a very deadly shinobi. He told his brother the threat the boy had posed, that he would sooner kill a family member rather than be an asset to their clan. But his brother had been amused, calling Naruto an adorable kid who wanted Tobirama’s attention. Tobirama begged to disagree, the brat was trying to kill him. The smile that never left the boy’s face is only a mask, and behind it lurks a sly fox playing with the clan. After all, what child only ever smiled, even in war? What child only ever encourages their enemies to do better, and never lose hope, and leave them relatively unharmed? To the pale-haired Senju, Uzumaki Naruto is a sly fox whose smile is nothing but a lie, and a dangerous boy who never cried.

But… here, in the middle of a war, where the littered bodies of comrades and enemies taint the earth red and bled the river in blood, Tobirama saw… a tragedy and a miracle. Uzumaki Naruto had tackled an Uchiha boy in an embrace, his long red hair flying wildly around his face in his desperation to have the boy in his arms. And amid the Uchiha boy’s laughter, Naruto’s loud sobs reminded Tobirama that he is nothing but a boy.

Sakura woke up in a girl’s body inside a small room full of cleaning supplies. Confused, she peeked behind the slightly ajar door in the small room, only to see a man and woman in the middle of a passionate night. Sakura had squeaked in alarm, which alerted the man to her presence. The woman, however, redirected his attention to her and they continued. Sakura was unable to sleep, horrified, embarrassed, and alarmed as she was. Why was her body so small? Is she in a genjutsu? Where was her team?

The next day, the woman who had slept with the man the other night found Sakura huddled in the closet and told her to remain quiet or remove herself from the brothel. It was merely because they needed extra hands in cleaning that they allowed her to remain, after all, so Sakura ought to understand her place in the brothel if she does not want to end like her mother. Quickly, Sakura grasped the situation. Her name was Sakura, she had no last name, but her mother was suspected to be an Uzumaki. She was beautiful, with long luscious red hair and stunning blue eyes that attracted the attention of a pale-haired young man, which resulted in her birth. She lost her beauty when Sakura came to life, to the regret of their owner, and with the brothel refusing to feed her mother because of her lack of customers, the poor woman slowly wilted and died.

Sakura was an orphan in an unknown time, inside a young body so frail, so pathetically weak she couldn’t even lift a pail full of water. Sakura felt like she was 12 again. Powerless and inadequate. All her hard work was gone, her forehead empty of the Byakogou she was proud to obtain. She still had her bubblegum hair, but the vivid green eyes that belonged to her mother she so dearly adored are now gone, replaced with crystal blue. She looked entirely like her lowly mother, insulted one of the Oirans, Sakura will be valuable to the mistress. Sakura… cried. She was embarrassed to admit it, but for weeks, she had done nothing but cry. And Sakura mourned. Sakura mourned her past life (or is it the future? This place feels like the past), Sakura mourned for her loss, and herself. She was alone once more.