"I wanna be like Nii-san!" he said excitedly when he managed to hit the target for the third time in a row. Sasuke's verbal skills were coming along nicely.
He was now at the point of speaking in complete, simple sentences, though I couldn't always understand what he was saying. I tended to be quieter to disguise the fact that my verbal skills were far beyond that of a normal toddler, but it meant that my pronunciation suffered from lack of practice, and Mikoto often prodded me to speak more often and clearly.
"You will be," I assured him, throwing my ball. It went wide, just barely grazing the edge of the target.
I frowned and tried again, missing the target entirely.
"No, like this," said Sasuke, showing me the stance Mikoto had demonstrated a few weeks ago, taking a moment to aim, and throwing the ball in a perfect arc towards the center of the target. I did my best to mimic him, but I only managed to bounce off the outer ring.
Sasuke shook his head. "No…like this.
"
Toddlers weren't the best teachers, but Sasuke had no problems showing me the stance and motions over and over again until I started hitting the target consistently. In fact, he seemed to enjoy being an authority on the subject.
It was an easy, fun way to spend an autumn day.
…
That winter I discovered that Konoha did, in fact, get snow. We had an extremely temperate climate, and the previous winters had been cold and wet as far as I could recall, but this year we had actual bona fide snow.
Sadly, I couldn't enjoy it because I was cooped up inside with pneumonia.
I'd had on and off colds and infections for the past year. No one seemed particularly surprised by this.
Apparently I'd been diagnosed with a weakened immune system in addition to my asthma. I'd been bundled up in a heavy blanket and planted under the kotatsu, a type of table with a blanket skirt and a heater.
Mikoto sat across from me mending Fugaku's torn uniform, Sasuke was outside training, Itachi was off on a mission, and Fugaku was at work.
Coughing and sniffling, I worked my way through my picture books again, my eyes often straying to the window where I could see Sasuke playing. It looked like a lot of fun, more so than reading about the sounds made by barn animals.
"Kaa-chan, can I…?" I began, but stopped as I was interrupted by a fit of coughing. Mikoto poured me a sippy-cup of tea.
My eyes strayed again to Sasuke, who had started making snowballs. Mikoto tracked my gaze and sighed.
"I'm sorry," she said. "The doctor said you need to rest and stay warm.
"
I nodded and drank the tea.
Mikoto hesitated for a moment before standing and leaving. She returned a moment later with a book.
"It might be a little early for you, but I thought you might like this," she said, placing it on the table in front of me.
"Kumi…Kunoichi," I read slowly. It wasn't a picture book.
"Why don't we read it together?" she asked, smiling and pulling me into her lap and flipping open the first page. "What does this say?"
"There was once a…" I began and then stopped at the unfamiliar word.
"Beautiful," Mikoto supplied.
"There was once a beautiful kunoichi named Kumi," I said. And we worked all the way through chapter one before Sasuke returned sniffling and rosy-cheeked for dinner.
…
It never ceased to amaze me how easy it was to learn things as a kid. In my previous life, I'd been a quick learner, but that was nothing compared to how information would just 'stick' now.
Memorization was as easy as breathing. It might have had something to do with the malleability of a child's brain, and I was going to take full advantage of it while it lasted.
I also theorized that it might be an Uchiha thing. The Sharingan was famed for its copy technique, but eyes didn't remember things.
So I wondered if perhaps the Sharingan was just unlocking a mechanism that existed in the minds of all Uchiha and gave them chakra-powered eidetic memory. It might explain why they were famed for their geniuses as well as their eyes.
Itachi was brilliant without the Sharingan, and I was pretty sure that Sasuke was advanced for his age too, though I didn't exactly have much to compare him to.
Speculation on the nature of the Sharingan and intelligence aside, I devoured whatever reading material I could get my pudgy hands on. I spent a full two months cooped up inside with pneumonia, so I never lacked for study time.
And when I grew bored with reading, I worked on dexterity, usually by drawing.
"Oh, what's this?" Mikoto asked, peering over my shoulder at my admittedly childish doodle.
"It's you, Kaa-chan!" I said, holding it up. My fine motor control was…a work in progress.
"Oh, this pretty lady is me?" Mikoto asked, feigning surprise. "Well, why don't I put this up on the fridge?"
And so she did.
She returned to the dinner table as I cleared away my art supplies and picked up Kumi Kunoichi. I'd read it eight times already, and each time it became easier.
I was just about to ask for an even more advanced book when Fugaku came home from work looking drawn.
"Oh, are you reading that all by yourself, Kiyo-chan?" he asked. He'd been busy at work, and I was often in bed by the time he came home, so I shouldn't be surprised that he hadn't noticed until now.
"That's very advanced. "
"I need lots of help," I hedged. The first reading had required Mikoto's input at least once or twice per sentence, but by now I could read the entire thing cover to cover.
"Still…" he said, rubbing his chin speculatively. "Even Itachi didn't learn to read until he was four…"
Okay, being gifted was one thing. Outdoing the prodigy of all prodigies was something else entirely.
Thankfully Sasuke, who had been playing just outside, peeked in through the open back door and pulled Fugaku into the backyard to watch him practice with the rubber balls. I trailed after him with vague notions of showing off my lackluster skill with throwing.