Uchiha Reincarnation

Needless to say, their break ends up on a terrible note. 

They didn’t touch the subject for the last three days they spent at her Grandfather’s house, and Chieko appreciates their silence. She doesn’t have to worry about being interrogated, or telling lies, or saying terrible truths. She doesn’t have to worry about being asked to show her true self. Still, the silence is… It kills her because they are her family. They shouldn’t need to stay silent for her sake. They shouldn’t be afraid of how to act around her, nor should they feel the need to contain their curiosity. They have a right to know what type of person she is. She shouldn’t be so weak that she can’t take their questions.

As she looks through the car’s window, her reflection on the glass looks back at her. A little girl with dark unmarked skin, shiny hair, and black eyes too big for her childish face. A child who should be innocent. Daughter of Yua and Hiroyuki. A city girl who’s not supposed to know any kind of struggle. A child that should be honest, kind, and cheerful like her parents. A lie. A dream made up by a murderer, a spy that hopes to fit in. Lying and faking and… 

She doesn't deserve this life. 

“Chieko, we...—,”

“I’m not a good person,” she interrupts her mother. She doesn’t dare glance up even though she would not be able to see her parent’s faces from the back seat. “I would do anything for you, for my friends, and I’m not speaking of good things only. In my past life I—”

“Whatever you did in your past life, it’s in the past, we won’t judge you for that,” Hiroyuki’s words sound... surprised? “And I think we may all be worried about different aspects of this situation, so we should make sure we are on the same page before we speak. If you want to speak?”

“I do?…,” she is not really sure what the miscommunication could be though. It seems obvious to her that they are worried and that they want the truth. Above all, it seems very probable that they will be extremely disappointed when they discover she knew there was something wrong with that man at the shopping district and didn't say anything. She doesn't want them to notice how different she is from them. To finally realize she doesn't deserve them, doesn't deserve this world.

When the silence extends too much after Chieko’s answer, Hiroyuki sighs and starts the conversation himself.

“Okay, so let’s recap. The villain involved in the Niitsu disaster was in Niigata a week ago. The day you and your mother came home…, you felt really scared Chieko. What happened?”

She should lie.  

“I suspected someone dangerous was there,” against all logical thought, the truth escapes her lips. She awaits their reprimands, but instead, a shaky sigh makes her look up.

Her father looks at her through the mirror. His usually lively eyes are just as sad as the times her feelings wake them up after a nightmare. What exactly is he feeling from her right now?

“Chieko, we are not angry with you. You know that, right?”

Oh. 

“I—”

“What do you mean by that?! Seriously Hiro. I would appreciate it if you could inform me of these things before we have a conversation. Chieko! Please explain to me why you think we are angry with you,” her mother sounds helpless, which is incredibly shocking. Chieko doesn't want her usually confident mother to sound so insecure. 

“I just noticed it, and I wasn't sure either. That's why I asked. How was I supposed to tell you?” he responds with mild annoyance. 

It's so much easier to talk with her dad. He reads her better than anyone else has ever done before. He always knows how much to push and when to leave her alone. Sometimes Chieko doesn't even need to say anything. Her father simply looks at her and he knows what she's going through. It's not fair to her mother. Who, regardless of everything, worries for Chieko just as much as Hiroyuki. 

“I knew someone dangerous was there, but I didn't do anything about it. It's not—It's not what you have taught me to do.”

“Well. At least you know you did something wrong—”

“Yua!—”

“Let me finish!” Yua turns around and looks straight at her, determination in her eyes “You should've told someone, and you didn't. That wasn't okay, Chieko. But fear is a powerful emotion. We don't blame you for being scared,” her face softens “The fact that you know you did wrong will make it easier to change your reaction if there is a next time.”

Chieko doesn't want to destroy her mother's hopes, but she doesn't want her to lie to herself either. Will they love her the same when they know the truth?

“I wouldn’t have done anything anyway,” they have to understand, they have to understand and love her nonetheless.

“Are you sure about that?” his voice sounds doubtful, which angers her because of course she is sure, do they simply not want to accept her with everything else she is? Selfish, unkind, apathetic, useless…“I’m not saying you don’t know yourself, but Chieko… you have always tried to follow our rules. Even when you are not happy about it, you try to listen to us. Without the fear that obviously affected you that day, do you truly think you would have acted the same, even while knowing your actions would go against our beliefs?”

Are they right? Would she have acted differently if she didn’t feel her mother was in danger? If she didn’t feel it was too dangerous to tell anyone? How was she supposed to know what her words could mean in the future? Intervening in such a situation without information or allies would be dangerous. Telling the police or heroes (unknowns, unreliable, not a viable solution) would call too much attention to herself. How would she explain her knowledge? How many quirks would notice she is lying? How many villains would be able to notice her?

“I don’t care,” she says, but it's a weak and useless rebuttal.

“I’m not saying you do or don’t care,” and those words sound uncomfortable “but we think trying is enough for now”

“Don't you think it is insincere? That I only try because you tell me to?” Hiroyuki is about to answer, but her mother interrupts him. 

“We realize you are not the most empathetic,” she is just as uncomfortable as Hiroyuki when stating that fact “but actions speak louder than anything else, and you are trying to be better.… Please tell us if something like this happens again. We can help Chieko. You don't have to deal with the fear alone and the police—”

“There were too many variables...” variables she can't see anymore (and even if she could, she wouldn't be able to do anything. She has never been able to change—) “Doing anything in that situation could bring about terrible things. I don't think I can be who you want me to be. Isn't it enough? That I care about you and that I protect you?” she says with wavering conviction, and then she looks up slightly. She sees how her denial causes her mother to purse her lips, and her father to hold the steering wheel tighter and—

They are right. 

She doesn't want to face their disappointment. 

Perhaps Chieko is lucky she decided to hold the conversation here, where she is not able to see their faces looking at her directly. 

She really doesn't want to face their disappointment.

“I will try to tell someone if something like this happens again,” and the assurance leaves her lips almost involuntarily. 

“That's all we ask,” says Yua.

“And Chieko?” her father addresses her “We love you. Don’t doubt our love”

Hiroyuki’s words don’t bring her the comfort they are supposed to—if they knew everything, they wouldn't accept her, they shouldn't accept her— and he notices. 

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation at home?” 

It’s a swift retreat if nothing else.

An hour away from home, Hiroyuki stops at a gas station. He fills up the car, parks on the side of a convenience store, and asks if anyone wants something. No one does, but both of his girls get off to use the restroom from the rest area. 

He walks to the store, surveys the candy section, takes some chocolates without registering brand names, and forms in line to pay at the register. 

It's not until a big family enters the store, everyone feeling plenty of different things and yet none of them negative, that tears run down his eyes. 

The bubble that surrounded him bursts. Suddenly, multiple emotions assault him at once. One second he can feel emotions with clarity again, the next everything feels blurry...sluggish. He barely registers the woman at the counter asking him if he is alright. 

“I'm okay. How much is it?” the woman gives him a doubtful look, but tells him the price and accepts his money without more questioning. 

It's been a while since I felt quirk overuse, he thinks as he gets out of the store and stands on the sidewalk. 

Hiroyuki's quirk is not something he can turn off. Although quirks usually modify their users to make them able to withstand their power, Hiroyuki is a 6th generation empath user, which makes his quirk more powerful and more difficult to control. In the past, crowds of people and emotionally distressed individuals used to overcrowd his senses. It took a great deal of practice with his father, and studying to obtain his License for Occupational Quirk Practice, for him to be able to control his quirk completely. At present, his quirk doesn’t overwhelm him unless he is paying too much attention. 

It is hard, if not impossible, not to pay absurd amounts of attention to Chieko.

Not only is his daughter the impossibility of dying and waking up —which is enough to convince a sane person they must be insane— but she also bears the weight of leaving a whole world behind. Moreover, he has never met anyone so adept at compartmentalization and controlling body language. If Hiroyuki doesn’t pay attention, he might miss something important. He can’t afford that. Especially since she is not the type to speak about her feelings. 

It is apparent —after seven years of painstaking observation— that a combination of guilt, anger, fear, belonging, love, and inadequacy (each in a very specific quantity) mean that she is afraid of disappointing them. She gets like that when she fears retaliation. It is part of the guilt complex she acquired from her past life. Or at least, that’s what he theorizes considering her life here has been as calm and normal as it gets in her situation. 

When he was driving, he felt Chieko get overwhelmed by guilt, and he knew right away that she was about to speak up. What he did not expect was for her to be so persistent in changing their positive perception of her. First, by bringing up her unknown past in a negative light. Then, by trying to confront them with her apparent (maybe more real than he wants to accept) lack of empathy for the lives of strangers. 

She had never done that before. Perhaps she is reaching her limit. Hiroyuki knows it bothers her that they don't know much about who she was before. He thought that it was simply because she doesn't like to hide things from them, but what happened in the car tells another story. 

She is afraid of disappointing them. Yet, she directly showed herself as apathetic, which goes against what they have tried to teach her. 

When he tried to show her another reasoning for her actions, she felt annoyed, angry, guilty, and disappointed, and then he went too far with his quirk. He paid too much attention and got too close to her emotions. It was unsettling, just like it always is when he dives too deep into individuals' emotions. Just thinking about it makes his head hurt.

It's ironic how it's not until he overworks his quirk and can't read emotions clearly that he gets closer to an answer. 

For Chieko, maybe it's not about the truth of what happened at the mall. It's about a need for acceptance, and a desperate (most likely subconscious) attempt at testing their affection. After losing everything, it is not strange she also developed a fear of abandonment…

Yet, that wouldn't explain why she— 

Except if it's not only fear of abandonment but a need to receive some kind of punishment. Something to alleviate her guilt…

“Hiro?” in front of him, Yua's blue eyes watch him with worry. His name sounds like the most beautiful thing when her voice is saying it. Just listening to her relaxes him immediately. “Are you okay?” 

“I will be,” he pecks her on the lips…or he tries to since she dodges, and he ends up ridiculously kissing the air.

“Do you know how worried I was? You have been here for 40 minutes. Seriously, I have told you thousands of times not to overwork your quirk! Will you ever listen to me?”

“I didn't overwork my quirk,” wrong thing to say.

“Of course, you didn't. Hiroyuki. Why else would you be so distracted you don't even feel or see me when I'm right in front of you?”

Yua 1. Hiroyuki 0.

“Uh. Well. I saw you, but your beauty blinded me?”

That's a good answer, right? Definitely.

“Are you asking me or are you telling me?” 

Yua 2. Hiroyuki 0.

“...I'm sorry. I was simply really worried. I had to know how Chieko felt”

“I know, but you have to take care of yourself too. I'll drive what's left of the way. Try to rest. If I even suspect you are using your quirk, I swear I'll make you go shopping with me”

Yua 3. Hiroyuki 0. 

“Of course, my love”

A few hours later, after they have finished organizing everything they used on the trip, they sit around the dining table, each one of them with a cup full of chocolate ice cream. Yua is hoping either Chieko or Hiro start the conversation. After all, Hiroyuki seems to be the one with more information, and the conversation is based on Chieko. 

Five minutes pass and it becomes obvious none of them will say anything. Thus, is time for the voice of reason to be heard.

“I know we said we would not push you,” Yua starts saying “and it is not my intention to force you to say anything you don’t want to, but I also believe communication is very important in any relationship” she pauses a second, then looks at Hiro “I don’t think we can pretend that everything is alright until she decides to say something,” then looks at Chieko “and I don’t think you will be able to hide your feelings and problems from us when we love you and worry about you.”

“You are right Yua. I guess I just—”

“No, it’s my responsibility,” Chieko interrupts Hiroyuki “I—… I know I can talk to you. I— I try, but— Ugh, I don’t even know what to say”

“Well, why don’t we start with your father’s comment? It worries me, Chieko. What makes you think we don’t love you? Have we ever given you any reason to think our love is fake?” Yua tries to keep her voice as neutral as possible, but she sounds hurt regardless.

“What? No, you have never— I know you love me,” Chieko sounds frustrated, but an explanation doesn’t follow her answer. 

Silence fills the room again. This time, Hiroyuki is the one who breaks it.

“I have been thinking about this a lot, and I might be wrong… Please tell me if I’m wrong, but…I believe maybe you think we won’t love you any more if we know about your past life?”

“What?” Yua’s simple question is so dry and unimpressed that Chieko flinches. Yet, their daughter doesn’t give them an answer.

“Am I… right?” 

“You— You are not” Chieko's voice trembles, but her face maintains a blank expression. 

“Really? I guess I was wrong then. I have another question though. Do you think maybe you were trying to make us look at you in a negative light?”

“Is it simply so difficult to accept me for the horrible person I am that you are trying to find hidden meanings to my actions?!” her voice breaks and anger shines through the mask she created. 

Ah. 

Yua is starting to realize where Hiroyuki is trying to get to. 

“Isn't it obvious? We won't accept something that's not true. You are not a bad person, Chieko,” Yua's words finally break the mask, and her daughter's eyes crystallise with unshed tears. 

“You don't know that. You don't know that. Even after I told you, you really don't realize…”

“We already told you. You were afraid, and that's probably why you didn't say anything. Even if you weren't afraid, plenty of people could have kept quiet after feeling danger simply because they don't want to get involved. We don't approve of that. You know this, but that doesn't make you a terrible person. Do you want us to think you are a bad person? Do you want us to be angry at you for what happened at the mall?”

Chieko faces the floor and stubbornly avoids their eyes. 

“You don't get it—!”

“Then help us understand—”

“I have killed people before,” the silence following her admission is deafening. 

Yua looks at her husband, waiting for him to call out the lie. However, Hiroyuki sits there just as surprised as she is. Which means there must not be a sliver of deception in her words. 

She can't bring herself to say anything at all. Chieko has killed before? Their daughter? She may be a little anti-social, but she's not a murderer. Why would her daughter—

Chieko looks as if she's waiting for judgment. Eyes downcast and clenched fists. A rare combination of defeat and determination. Yua has seen Chieko showing a plethora of emotions. After all, it's difficult to hide much when they are right beside Chieko at the instant a nightmare wakes her up. Yet, she has never seen Chieko so hopeless before. 

It's a sobering sight that takes her out of her scrambled thoughts and makes her ask for clarification.

“I see, could you give us some context?” Yua remembers what Hiro said and adds for extra measure  “You don't expect us to accept that and just all of a sudden develop scorn for you, do you?”

“Didn't you hear me? I—”

“I would appreciate some context as well. Was it self-defense or something else?” Hiro seems to have recovered as well. 

“It wasn't self-defense. Can't you see what I'm trying to show you!”

“Did you want to do it then? Did you enjoy killing?” the words burn her mouth as they get out, the sole implication of it makes Yua sick, but she would prefer it if they get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. 

It's obvious from Hiroyuki's tense posture that he doesn't approve of her choice of words, but it's not like he can make Yua turn back time. Chieko, on the other hand, has turned so pale that it's noticeable. 

“I- I did not. Why would you—?,” Chieko's strength seems to have left her voice completely. 

Before Hiro can say anything, Yua speaks up. “I was simply asking since you seemed so bent on demonstrating you are a terrible person. So? Why did you kill before?” the word kill being related to her daughter scalds her tongue, but context truly is important, and she won't let herself judge without knowledge.

“I was a Shinobi, a soldier…,” Chieko seems dumbfounded still, but the words flow without struggle now “We… worked as mercenaries too”

“You know we have a military here as well” Hiro adds after it seems she finished “Our country has been at war before. Even the police sometimes have to take lethal measures. It's not as otherworldly and devil-like as you are trying to show us”

“No. No. It's different. It's completely different. Compared to this world, I am a terrible— terrible person. Always at war, always in conflict. I went to school to learn how to fight, how to kill. When I was 10, I did it the first time, and then I kept doing it. Don't you think that's terrible?” Child soldiers! How could anyone force a child to—! “You taught me that I should help others and be kind, but even before you met me I was already tainted. I can't be who you want me to be. I can't fit in here, nor do I deserve to fit in here. Do you get it now?” her voice breaks now, but no tears fall down. 

Speechless again, Yua looks at Hiroyuki, and what she sees surprises her. There is shock on his face, but his eyebrows are also frowned on… confusion? It doesn't seem like he's going to say anything yet, so Yua decides to take charge until he makes up his mind. 

“You are right, that's terrible. A world where children have to learn to kill. It makes me sick just to think about it,” Yua doesn't like that defeated look showing on her daughter again “but in my eyes, that still doesn't make you a bad person. If I had to judge anyone, it would be those who forced you down that path. If what you want is for me to judge you… I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you. Values, morals… everything is based on how society works. Your world and this world have different beliefs on good and evil. It would not be fair to judge the person you were with the rules of a world you didn't know of.”

It's Chieko's turn to be speechless now, which almost makes Yua smile. She finally won the argument, there's no way Chieko will have a way to rationalize that in a way that makes her seem like "a terrible person". Or at least, she would smile if it wasn't for the tears running down Chieko's eyes. 

“Why are you— Why are you so good to me? I told you I don't deserve this,” it seems like that's what Hiro needed to hear to make up his mind. 

“Your past… certainly gives you a different background to most people in this world. I know that makes you insecure about your place here…,” he looks down, and then back up, locking eyes with Chieko's “but dear, that is not really why you feel like you don't deserve to be here, right?”

His words break something in Chieko, and they see her cry like when they talked about her reincarnation. It is, perhaps, even worse this time. A heart-wrenching sob leaves her—as if she tried to contain it and hurt her throat in the process—. She closes her eyes, but the tears don't stop flowing and she doesn't try to cover her face either. 

Yua gets off her chair right away, goes to Chieko, and holds her in her arms. In that position, it's easier to notice how much she's trembling. Hiro is not there, however, and when she looks at her husband, she finally notices how pale he is. His eyes can't seem to leave Chieko, and Yua figures he's too immersed in his quirk to move. 

Still crying her heart out, with ugly sobs and trembling hands, Chieko speaks.

“I— could not— I— I— could not—,” it seems like oxygen escapes Chieko, and Yua wants to tell her to take a deep breath, but her child continues talking “They— I— Mom!” 

Chieko hugs Yua strongly as if fearing she will disappear. Yua can see the tears in her husband's eyes as well, but she can't worry about him right now. 

She runs her hands through her daughter's hair and whispers.

“It will be alright, Chieko. It will be alright. We are here. Mama and Papa are here,” her words and quirk do their job at lessening her distress, but do nothing at stopping it. 

“I shouldn't be here, mom! I failed— I failed him. He died. They died. I— I— let them die,” Yua's eyes crystallize, but she holds back her tears. This is not the time for them to cry. “They should be here, not me” 

No time for them to cry.

Yua has to be strong for her daughter. She has to. 

“I let him die. I let them die”

No time for them to cry. 

“How can I— How can I— be so…so happy? I— let them die”

This is so much worse than they thought. 

Hiroyuki is drowning. Drowning in emotions, in guilt, in sadness. Yet, he can't look at anything but his child. If it feels like this to him, who doesn't have any idea of the whys? How does it feel to her? 

Hiroyuki was right. Chieko felt guilty, and she was trying to see if she could alleviate her guilt by making them punish her. Be it because she didn't act how they would like her to act, or because she killed before —and wasn't that a surprise—, or whatever other reason she could think of, she wanted to convince them that she isn't worthy of this life.

Chieko wanted to be hated because she didn't feel she deserved to be happy. 

Hiroyuki thought she simply missed her world and her family. But those kids she drew before…died before she came here. They left in a way that makes her feel responsible, that's been making her feel responsible for seven years. Probably more, if they didn't die right before she came here. 

His head has been hurting since a while ago, and now, the pain comes back with a vengeance. He might actually hurt himself if he keeps overworking his quirk, but… 

Yua holds her daughter in her arms, hopelessness running through her soul, and Hiroyuki forces himself to breathe. He can't break. They can't break. Chieko needs them. 

No one said parenthood was going to be easy. 

Turning off his quirk as much as possible, Hiroyuki cleans his tears, stands up, and envelops his family in a hug. Pulling through the cotton-like feeling on his head, the pain, and the unbearable injustice of all of this —he never thought he would feel like the world was hopelessly unfair, but this… why did her daughter have to suffer like this?—, Hiroyuki clears his mind. 

Nothing is ever easy when it involves Chieko, but this time, words come easier than ever to Hiroyuki. 

“Chieko,” he hopes he can reach her “I don't know what happened to make you think their passing is your fault. I'm absolutely sure that you would never let your family die, or that you would hurt them, so it must have been an impossible situation,” he continues, talking over Chieko's weak attempts to interrupt him.

“You might think we don't understand you because we don't know everything about you. You might think we love you because of that same reason, but that's not the case. The person you are now, and the person you were before. They are both you. And if there's anything in the world we are certain is true is that you are a loyal loving girl that's always doing the most for her family. We love that wonderful person you are. Regardless of any truths about your past. Regardless of anything you may think it's horrible about you, you are our child.  Our little miracle…and we, we may be shocked by your past life, but… Chieko, we are not your judge nor your executioner”

For a second, he hesitates on what else to add. He wants to comfort her, to let her know the wonderful gift that she's to them, to make her realize they won’t ever see her like the devil she wants them to see. Hiroyuki knows, with absolute certainty, that the guilt that overwhelms his daughter is misplaced (as a result of survivor’s guilt). He also doesn’t have to know everything about his child to know she would never hurt someone with maliciousness—perhaps she would do it out of extreme anger, he admits to himself, but that is something that can be worked on and controlled—. However, Chieko's cries don't stop. She's listening, which is already a win, but she's not believing him.  His wife notices his struggle, and she continues in his place. 

“My love, this… this guilt you're dealing with… I don't pretend to understand or minimize your feelings, but this guilt is natural. It's hard to lose someone, and it's harder to continue without them,” his wife's voice trembles, and he knows she's remembering her sister “However, our loved ones… the people who undoubtedly loved you as much as you love them. I know they wouldn't want you to live in guilt. I know they would wish for you to be happy. Just like we love you and wish for you to be happy. Even if you feel you don't deserve it, sometimes it's not about that. Sometimes it's about accepting the second chance, and striving to be better. It's about making them proud from wherever they may be watching over us.”

Chieko can’t avoid being angry at her Dad. He says such sweet words as if he knows everything, but he really doesn’t understand anything. He’s always living in that fantasy world where love overcomes every obstacle. He is so— And her Mother, she’s also clueless. Of course Shisui and Itachi would want her to be happy, but if they had known how she failed… 

“...Even if you feel you don't deserve it, sometimes it's not about that. Sometimes it's about accepting the second chance and striving to be better. It's about making them proud from wherever they may be watching over us,” her mother’s words resonate in her head minutes after she hears them.

Yua is right.

Yet, her mother is still clueless.

She will make them understand.

When Chieko’s cries die down, Yua thinks they finally got through to her. She looks at her husband for reassurance, but as he holds them both in his arms, his eyes don’t show any signs of relief. 

Then, the untold story is revealed.

They hear about a military village. A prosperous place built on war and sacrifices. A place built to create a better future. A place that ended up housing child soldiers, conspiracies, rebellions, and traitorous leaders.

Most importantly, they hear about a useless girl. One Uchiha Hatsu that never put in enough effort. A child that couldn't protect her family.

Briefly, they hear about a teen with the sun on his smile. About how he took his own life. They hear about a genius pacifist, a brother. About how his hands ended up drenched in the blood of his kin. They hear about a broken child, set on a tortuous path of revenge. 

She tells them how she failed even with eyes that could see the future.

Chieko doesn't tell them how she died, and Yua thinks she's relieved she doesn't have to hear it. 

The truth is ugly. It is unbearable. Yua wonders how it is that her daughter is sane after so many tragedies. 

Surprisingly, what hurts the most is not the gruesome truth of her past but the disgust with which she talks about herself. When their child speaks, she doesn't say “I did my best, but I failed,” she says “I didn't do enough, and I failed.” 

The thing is, and perhaps Yua is stuck on her views about children in this world—this world that seems kind in comparison—, children shouldn't have to deal with that. Children shouldn't have to fight in wars or de-escalate rebellions or save their loved ones. 

Even an adult, Yua thinks with teary eyes, even an adult would fail in such a situation. How could one person alone hope to stop something of such magnitude? 

“Chieko… You…,” Hiroyuki starts talking and the words fail him, so he holds them both tighter “You did your best Chieko. It is not your fault.”

It seems lackluster compared to the speeches he usually gives, but it is enough for their child to silently start crying again. She doesn't stop until she falls asleep in their arms, and doesn't even stir when they move her to their bedroom.

As the three of them lay there together, Yua can only think about how they are supposed to help her through this.