My parents weren't actively trying to teach me anything yet, though the man sometimes said "Tou-chan!" Daddy slowly and with exaggerated mouth movements. I tried to mimic him, but the closest I could get was "Ha-Ha!" And that was little more than a pair of sharp exhalations.
The woman tried with "Kaa-chan!" Mommy. But the best I could do was a "Haa-Ha!" Despite the failed attempt, she beamed and said something to the man, who smiled, a sharp contrast to his normally stoic expression.
I shared a nursery with the other baby, who turned out to be a boy. And, if my guess was correct, his name was Sasuke.
The older boy was named Itachi, which was weird, but I supposed there were people who got really into anime, a fact which was verified when I noticed the Uchiha fan on the boy's back. Apparently they were really into cosplay too, but there were worse fates, I supposed.
I also picked up on my name, which was apparently 'Kiyo'.
Itachi had his own room down the hall, but he almost always gravitated to our room to play or take us out to the back garden, which proved to be somewhat hazardous. I hadn't even been out of the hospital for a week when I caught a cold and was placed right back into it again.
My family left me there overnight for observation.
And that's where I was when it happened.
I jolted awake, shrieking at the nightmare, at the roaring monster whose anger cut through me like a knife, drowning me in raw terror. But as I flailed around, dizzyingly awake in a way I hadn't been since my rebirth, the nightmare did not fade.
The roars grew louder, and there were crashing sounds and screaming coming from outside. My shriek cut off as I froze helplessly in my crib.
I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't even think.
All I could do was lay there and wait to die.
Eventually the terrifying presence vanished, gone so completely that it might have been a dream if it weren't for the lingering sense of dread hanging in the air like a thick fog. I waited there all night, still and quiet and alone until a nurse came by to check on me.
She was frazzled, her wide eyes sweeping over me once before nodding and rushing out.
Her white uniform, normally pristine, was speckled with reddish-brown.
I was very, very quiet.
With daylight came my mother and brothers. She looked over me with anxious eyes and patted my small tuft of hair.
Itachi also looked relieved, and he poked my cheek gently by way of greeting. I whimpered, the first sound I'd made since it happened, and he looked sad.
They came to visit me every day for my two-week hospital stay until my cold cleared up and the nurses sent me home. Itachi took me and little Sasuke for a walk among heavily laden wagons being driven by oxen through the streets toward some unknown location.
That alone sent alarm bells ringing in my head. Who used oxen in this day and age? But that wasn't the only thing I noticed now that I finally had a chance to look around.
The buildings were strange, all curves and odd angles with graffiti and posters slapped in the most inaccessible places. It was as if the builders had only passing familiarity with architecture styles and many of them looked like they were still standing by the power of hopes and dreams.
My confusion bled to worry, but it wasn't until Itachi rounded a corner and the Hokage monument came into view that the truth reared up and smacked me across the face.
Oh, oh no.
I had been reborn into the world of Naruto.
Into the Uchiha clan.
Before the massacre.
And I was completely-
-utterly-
-perfectly-
-screwed.
There were certain advantages to knowing exactly when and how you were going to die. I'd spent my entire previous life preparing for the inevitable tomorrow, often sacrificing today in the process.
But all of my hard work, my preparations, everything I'd ever done or wanted or hoped to one day be had been erased in a single moment. I'd already daydreamed about building my new life in this world, plotting out everything and not making the same mistakes I had last time.
But apparently that was unnecessary, as I wouldn't live long enough to make the same mistakes anyway. It was a kick to the teeth, sure, but it was also a workable deadline, a reminder that I still had today, and that I could still make the most of it despite, well, everything.
I admit that I had a few brief (very brief) fantasies of swooping in and righting the wrongs of this world, of preventing the massacre, befriending Naruto, and saving everyone. But when I tried to work out exactly how to do that, things started to fall apart rather rapidly.
The massacre hadn't been Itachi's fault. It was the result of a complicated web of slights, suspicions, and fear that had ultimately culminated in the death of the entire clan.
Events had been set it in motion before Konoha's founding with the feud between the Uchiha and the Senju.
I couldn't change the past. I couldn't prevent the suspicion or the surveillance.
And with those things in place, I couldn't change the clan's collective minds. I could see it all laid out before me in its horrible inevitability.
And I thought that maybe the rest of the clan could see it too. Maybe they'd never wanted to fight, but they were afraid that suspicion would bloom into fear, and that fear would lead to their annihilation.
They weren't wrong.
So that was it. Stopping Itachi wouldn't stop Danzo or Fugaku.
And stopping Danzo from killing Shisui would only be a temporary measure before things boiled over again as suspicion and fear continued to grow unchecked.
As I lay beside Sasuke in his crib, I came to the reluctant conclusion that I was truly powerless to change his fate. And, for several of the same reasons, I highly doubted that I would be able to help Naruto either.