2

Chapter 2: one: family

Summary:

Chiyuki grows and learns. Mostly learns.

Notes:

Holy crap, thank you so much for your kudos and comments so far! I'm really glad you decided to give this story a chance!

I do not own Naruto.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Becoming a Hokage 101

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First section: Childhood

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Chapter One: Being born into a shinobi family is a plus, not a must.

No one has any control over the family they are born into, whether it is a ninja or a civilian one. Having parents or guardians who have been shinobi at some point in their lives will most likely give one a headstart in their quest to become hokage, although that is definitely not a deciding factor.

If you have been born in a shinobi clan, there will be morals and routines you will be expected to follow, especially if you happen to be one of the offspring of the clan leader. Some Konoha clans have stricter policies than others, and it would be wise of you to remember your early childhood will play a big part in your personality and how you perceive the world around you.

Having civilian parents, contrary to popular belief, is not something that will slow you down or become a handicap, quite the contrary: learning all the theories and techniques from scratch and without any sort of biased guidance means you have the opportunity to learn whichever ones you'd prefer.

More than all this, however, it is of utmost importance that you do not let any of this define who you truly are. Being a hokage - the leader of one of the oldest and strongest shinobi villages - is more than just assigning missions and discussing politics. It means you have to be both mentally and physically strong enough to stick to your ideals and fight to defend them, even when you know money and petty issues of the past will be obstacles. Take this time to get to know your family and close friends, for they'll be your first and most trusted allies.

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It might be a little far-fetched to say that a baby was planning murder and thinking of strategies, but that's exactly what I did. At fourteen months old, I slept for over 16 hours a day, frustratingly enough. Of course, being the youngest child of the current hokage meant that there was always someone with me, but to my delight, that someone was more often than not Asuma.

And you see, that's the thing about being reborn into a fictional world. When you're on the other side of the screen, watching cartoons for entertainment, you don't really form bonds with any of them. There are favorites, sure, but their well-being does not affect your own. If they die or get hurt, you might get sad - you might even cry - but you will move on, because you don't know them. Because they don't exist, not really.

"Asuma! Tooru!" I squealed upon seeing him, not having to fake my enthusiasm. During the early morning, when everyone was still getting up and mother was busy cooking breakfast, my brothers would wake up barely half an hour after myself, and although both their smiles had varying degrees of enthusiasm, I knew their love was the same.

"Peanut!" Tooru, our eldest brother, was eight years old, and my own personal ray of sunshine. He looked like a perfect mix of Hiruzen and Biwako, with dark, messy brown hair and pale skin, but even I could see he was going to be quite the handsome man one day. Without any preamble, he went and picked me up from the futon I had been lying on, immediately cooing at me. "Who's my favorite sister? You are!"

A soft snort left Asuma's mouth as he passed by us, giving me an affectionate pat on the head before kneeling down at the table, where mom was already setting the bowls of miso soup down.

"She's your only sister, niisan." Mother said nothing during the whole exchange, but that's how it always was. This casual, light-hearted conversation had become painfully familiar in our household, especially since I had been able to understand more and more. Tooru, the drama queen, let out a gasp and proceeded to blow raspberries on my stomach, full and round like a baby's should be.

In that moment, our father slided the bamboo door to the left and comes inside the kitchen, making an effort to not step as lightly as I know he does. He's tired and worn out, we all can tell; yet, he always takes time to ruffle our hairs and kiss my mother's temple before going out, no matter what.

This, right here, is what I'm talking about. Here, there characters are real people with real dreams and real traits and before you know it, you have formed bonds with them. It's terrifying, to say the least.

Sarutobi Asuma, whether I wanted him to or not, was someone who had won me over without even trying. He was a little over a year older, being almost three years old, but was already so smart despite being only a toddler. Our oldest brother, Tooru, was the clan heir, and even though he had already begun his training, he didn't seem too concerned with the whole thing. They were the most precious thing in my life, full of smiles and open affection for me, and it was a silly thing to believe in, I knew, but in their presence I felt like I belonged ; like this is exactly where I was supposed to be, and nowhere else.

Then there were my parents.

"Now, now, children. Let's sit down and eat breakfast before your mother scolds us, mhmm?" My father's voice rumbled somewhere to my right, and suddenly I found myself in his arms. The skin around his eyes wrinkled as he gave me a small smile, kissing my forehead before giving me to my mother.

I had very conflicting impressions of my father, to be truthful. Although he had been nothing but gentle and supportive with me, there was always something niggling at the back of my mind whenever his attention was on me. All of the memories I could gather on him were scarce at best, but they all showed what a powerful and shinobi he was, doing his best to protect this village. Hiruzen was a good man, a good father and a good hokage, so why would my mind insist there was something I was missing? It wasn't anything small, either; an annoying little voice kept trying to imply there was a huge gap somewhere, some vital information I hadn't quite remembered yet, but that it was important. Sometimes, if I didn't ignore that voice, my headaches would come back.

"Mama." I gave a toothless smile upon seeing my mother's tired face, and although she smiled slightly at me, she held me firmly in her arms so I could drink from the offered bottle. The lukewarm milk, highly nutritious and frankly delicious filled up my stomach slowly but surely, although I knew that two hours later I'd be have to be fed again.

(Breast feeding was not a fun time, I assure you. After I moved on to the milk powder they have here, things got a lot better).

Mother was a complicated thing. Sure, I loved her, and I knew she loved me, just like she loved my brothers, but sometimes… Sometimes being in her company was stifling. It was no wonder to anyone that I was her favorite child, simply because I was a girl. Sarutobi Biwako was probably one of the first feminists in the Narutoverse, and although I was extremely proud of that, she was also a bit of a extremist.

She might be more of a misandrist, though. To my mother, women were much stronger than men, and could handle life in general much better than they could; she always said that men wouldn't be able to handle childbirth, and my father wholeheartedly agreed. Being her favorite child, it was obvious she had high expectations of me, even if I was only an infant. Even if my headaches and constant hunger were handicaps, mother firmly believed I'd be one of the greatest kunoichi of my generation - perhaps, one of the best of all time.

She was the matriarch of the Sarutobi clan, a highly respected member of the council of elders, a seal master, and the most accomplished kunoichi of her generation. It was extremely difficult to not feel all the pressure and the expectations, especially when it came from her. A few months ago I got really upset with her when I overheard a conversation she had with my aunt, saying how I'd probably surpass my own brothers in no time, maybe even so that the clan would want me to be the heir, and not Tooru. After that evening, I spent a week fussing and complaining whenever mother held me, and strongly preferred the company of my brothers. Of course, no one had any idea why, and just chalked it up to my yin and yang chakra causing trouble again.

(Which, yeah, it was a thing, but I'll get to it in a minute).

I had thought the whole thing was extremely unfair and unnecessary. Tooru had been chosen as clan heir since his birth, and had trained for it ever since. I would never even think of stealing that spot, even if he didn't seem that eager to do it. From then on, the situation snowballed. I added all the frustration I felt with how suspicious a part of me seemed to be with my own father, as well as all the weight of the future that was already planned for me by my mother, and for a little while I went back to the headaches and crying. The time I spent around my brothers increased slightly, but it also meant spending a lot of time with my aunt. I had many opportunities to think about what I did and how exactly I was tackling things - which, admittedly, could have gone a lot better.

Seven days after the overheard conversation, I got back to treating my parents as usual, and then things just kind of… seemed to fall back into their own places, in their own time. I accepted I'd have to stand up to my mother if I wanted to shape my own life, and that I'd have to investigate my own father to silence the voice in my head. I vowed to become a strong kunoichi, one that could protect my brothers and support them. Things in our household went back to normal, and then my second birthday party hit me right in the face.

I stayed very still, not wanting to risk my mother's bad mood as we were finally finishing up. My second birthday party would be a slightly bigger affair than the first one, although not by much. A few close people would be invited, and that included high ranked officers that worked closely with my father; it was more of a political get-together than anything else, but I was okay with it. So long as I wasn't generally bothered and could spend time with an increasingly busy Tooru, it was perfectly fine.

As mother finished tying the obi around my waist, she let out a breath, sharp eyes taking in my appearance.

"Alright. Take a look." She said with a small, satisfied smile, and the expression made her look younger. I nodded and obliged, taking in my appearance properly for the first time in this new life.

Whether it was the Universe's version of a joke or simply an ironic coincidence, I looked exactly like my mother: straight dark blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes, with an oval face and cat shaped eyes. I still had a lot of baby fat, naturally, but I had little doubt I'd have the same sharp cheekbones and defined jaw she had. All in all, it wasn't a bad combination, it was just something else I'd have to fight for to be able to get out from under her shadow. I was resigned, you could say, but very determined.

My hair was usually kept shoulder length, though for my birthday party mother had done a pretty bun, keeping it out of my face. I didn't have bangs or anything, because I was fussy like that, and so the first thing people noticed about me was my forehead. Right in the middle of it there were two straight lines, one thicker than the other, resembling a pause symbol in my previous life. Mother had told me, once I was old enough to understand, that that was a seal, designed by her to keep my yin and yang chakra balanced. It was apparently the cause of my constant headaches and crying during my first months of life, and it had all ceased once the seal was in place. I had a theory about how the memories of a previous life might have affected that balance, but it wasn't exactly something I could discuss with anyone, so I left it at that. Besides, it didn't really bother me so long as it did its job, and people in my parents' social circle knew enough about me to prevent from asking.

The kimono I had chosen was a beautiful one, no doubt expensive, handmade and embroidered with small pearls along the fabric. The pink flowers against the white background clashed nicely with the yellow obi, and if it weren't so unpractical for shinobi wear, I'd definitely use something like this more often. The only problem was that my parents weren't very tall, and I was a tiny child, so my aunt had had to cut the hem of the kimono, and the sleeves covered my hands.

"Do you like it?" Biwako had been so quiet that I'd gotten lost in my thoughts, but I knew I liked what I saw, so I gave her reflection in the mirror a firm nod. Her smile widened a fraction, and she gracefully stood up, taking my hand in hers and heading to our living room. The place had been decorated with a few balloons here and there, and there was a beautiful pink cake on top of the table, courtesy of the Akimichi. There were already some people there, but those were mostly clansmen, and no introductions needed to be made.

"Aunt Hiroko." I greeted her as soon as she approached us, and she gave me a warm smile.

"Well, don't you look simply gorgeous." I barely even blushed, to my relief, and merely smiled back.

"Thank you, Aunt."

Hiroko was my father's sister, but she looked scaringly like mother, because they had the same hair color and the same eyes, although my aunt was a little taller. Although it wasn't often, Asuma and I stayed with her whenever mother and father had to work until late, and I loved it. Aunt Hiroko was fun, kind, and open with her affections, and was often the one to reign in my mother whenever she got too worked up about my future as a ninja. She was a blessing, basically.

As the two of them engaged in a conversation about clan politics, I wandered over to where I knew Asuma would be, his chakra signature familiar and easy to track even if I hadn't had any prior training. Surely enough, I found him under moments, sipping on apple juice half-hidden behind the kitchen table. I let a smile at the scene.

"Niisan." His dark eyes, so very similar to father's, blinked slowly at me. I took in his casual clothes against my own fancy ones, and I wanted to cringe at my mother's antics again. I was sure Asuma and Tooru had worn casual clothes in their own birthday parties, as well. His eyes softened, and not for the first time I marveled at how intelligent he already was at three years old.

"You look pretty." The traitorous blush became present, making my cheeks feel warm. Usually, I didn't care much for compliments, because it was something I had quickly gotten used to as the hokage's youngest child and my mother's favorite. It was petty and left a bitter taste in my mouth, but if there was someone whose opinion mattered the world to me, it was Asuma's. As far as my brief memories Here go, Asuma's always been by my side, unconditionally loving me through my tears and sleepless nights. He's always humoured me and entertained me, and although I love Tooru just as much, the middle brother was the first to get his own spot in my new heart.

"Thank you, niisan." He merely smiled and handed me a cup filled with apple juice, motioning to the snacks at the table.

"You should eat while the rest of the guests isn't here yet." Asuma said, and I agreed before stuffing my face full of food while I could. I had to take advantage of the fact that mother wasn't paying attention to my 'horrid' manners, and also because my brother had a point; once people started to arrive, introductions and small talk were going to be made and I'd have little time to eat during that.

Which is also related to my yin and yang chakra, and the seal that keeps the balance in check. As a result of both my extra memories and the seal on such a delicate part of my body, my brain demanded three times as much food to keep it all in check. If I spent longer than four hours without eating, all the nutrients my brain needed would be taken from my muscles, and then the headaches would start - again. It was a pain, and I seriously worried about what kind of ninja I was going to be.

Asuma huffed amusedly, and right after that Tooru found the two of us in the kitchen, where the guests couldn't really see us. He approached us with a fake look of disappointment, but his lips were already quirking up in a smile.

"Peanut! And Hazelnut! I thought you knew better than sneak around guests and eat all the food before we sing happy birthday!" His high voice coupled with the ridiculous nicknames made me snort, some of the food flying out of my mouth.

"Gross." Asuma snickered and Tooru barked out a laugh at that, but none of them bothered to scold me. We all silently agreed we had more than enough of that from our mother. Gently, our oldest brother wet a towel and cleaned my face, eyeing me with amusement in his dark eyes.

"There, now you don't look like you've been eating dirt." I giggled and Asuma snickered once again, Tooru winking down at us. "I actually came here to tell you some of the guests are here, and mother and father are looking for you."

Unable to control myself around my brothers, I wrinkled my nose, openly letting them know how I felt about all this. Sighing sympathetically, Tooru kneeled to our level, putting his hand on my head.

"Hey. I know it sucks, Peanut. I know it does." And I believed that. If there was someone who understood what a pain politics and pointless small talk were, it was Tooru, The Eldest Son of Our Honored Hokage and Heir to The Sarutobi Clan. It was much too heavy of a burden on a nine year old. "But you gotta hold on for a couple of hours, that's all. A lot of people are going to come in and coo at you, and you just have to smile and look pretty. It shouldn't be too hard, considering you look pretty everyday."

Asuma and I rolled our eyes in synchrony, but I couldn't deny the pep talk gave me strength and patience to handle the party. If Tooru said I could do it, then I would. I also defiantly ignored the blush spreading on my cheeks once again.

"I swear I'm gonna start calling you both Walnut One and Walnut Two if you keep on doing things at the same time. It's creepy, and you're not even twins." He also rolled his eyes, and as if we had agreed to it beforehand, Asuma and I huffed amusedly together, making Tooru throw his hands to the air.

"That's it. From today onwards, you're Walnut One and Walnut Two. Now let's hurry up, because dad's students are here and we're all going to suffer if we miss them."

I actually perked up at that. From my vague memories, I knew Hiruzen's students were exceptional individuals, incredibly different from one another but a team who could cause a lot of damage when fighting together. I also knew the three had been very relevant to the canon plot of Naruto.

Taking Tooru's left hand while Asuma took his right, we headed out of the kitchen into the living room, with eleven or so people mingling and talking. Some of the clansmen had already left, and I was thankful for the lack of a crowd.

Finding our father was easy enough. No matter what he was doing, people would always flock to him, and his former students were no exception. Upon coming closer, however, they were all wearing their shinobi gear, which meant they were on their way to a mission.

"Father." Tooru's voice caught his attention, though I didn't doubt every ninja in the room knew exactly where everyone was. Regardless, father's eyes caught ours and for a moment they lingered on mine. Then, before that annoying voice could rear its ugly head, I was being picked up by him, a proud smile on his face.

"Jiraya. Tsunade. Orochimaru. You already know Tooru and Asuma, but you have yet to meet the youngest. Introduce yourself, dear." It was impossible to bow like mother had drilled into us, but I gave them a polite nod of the head, taking the time to look at each one of them.

"Hello. My name is Sarutobi Chiyuki, and I'm two years old. It is a pleasure to meet you." I took in their expressions calmly, keeping in mind it'd need to be careful around all three of them. Orochimaru had a look of vague interest, and his mere presence was enough to raise alarm bells in my head. I knew what he was capable of, and I knew what lengths he'd be willing to go to achieve his goals. I was not, however, willing to stay and figure him out. Tsunade was beautiful, that's for sure, but she also looked tired and worn out in a way no one her age should look like. The Second Shinobi War had ended a little before I was born (coincidence? I think not.), and although I couldn't remember exactly what had happened to her, it was clear she was still suffering. Despite all her pain, though, she managed a weak smile for me.

Jiraya was… well. He looked thoughtful, and from short experience that was a look that didn't bode well with me. He was easily the tallest person in the room, with spiky white hair and red markings on his face, but other than knowing he was going to be Naruto's mentor at some point in life, I had no other memories of him, and that disgruntled me a little. I knew there were a lot of things I was missing there.

"Hey, sensei." Even Orochimaru looked weary of the pensive look on his male teammate's face, and I could tell it wasn't a usual sight. Regardless, Jiraya continued. "That seal…"

Almost defensively, my father gave his student a warning look, which prompted him to raise his hands in a surrender sign. I could tell all three of them had been interested, though only one of them had had the guts (or perhaps the foolishness) of asking directly to their teacher. It made me wonder if Jiraya was fearless or simply that dense.

"It helps with her chakra, designed by Biwako herself. It's nothing you should be concerned about." Well. That was a dismissal if I'd ever heard one. His student, however, already used to it, simply shrugged and let the topic drop.

For now.

I was also put down before anyone could ask shifty questions again, with a brief pat on the head. And then I was off with a small bow to his three students, eager to go back to my brothers.

I spent a lot of time sleeping, yes, but I also spent a lot of time pretending to be asleep so I could sort out the memories in my head. They were scarce and I only had a limited amount of information to work with, and at this point in my life, not much I could do. I was going to become a ninja, obviously; not only because of who my family was, but also for the sake of the characters I was slowly growing so attached to. Most importantly, if I wanted to get things done, they'd have to be done mostly by myself.

It was going to be tough, and a pain, but I'd need to be an elite ninja, at the very least, for political connections can only get you so far, especially the ones I had planned. If we also took in the fact I live in the middle of a military dictatorship without any possible way of changing the system in just a few years, it all meant nothing short of the very position of hokage would get me my way.

I had wrinkled my nose and almost given away the fact that I wasn't really sleeping back when I first thought about it, but the more I reasoned, the more it made sense. I remembered Kushina and Minato, and how they had been so good and kind without raising any alarm bells in my head; I remembered sweet and friendly Naruto, who had loved his village despite all the scorn he had suffered for it; I remember Minato's students and the pain they all went through, and how one of them was actually responsible for the start of the Fourth Shinobi War; the jinchuuriki, shunned and made into weapons by their own village.

It made me think that the villages weren't really that well-run, not really. Many people still held grudges that no one even remembered the origins of, despotism was obvious but overlooked, but most importantly, how children learned to kill at the age of five . In one of my flashes, there'd been the memory of a young child, with sad dark eyes and eye bags the size of the burden he'd had to carry, and although I didn't remember his name or why he was important, I still remembered he'd had those eye bags for a reason.

Pausing briefly, I took a moment to glance at the kitchen, where my brothers and Aunt Hiroko where. The sight made me feel warm and happy and safe and home, and I had to admit I struggled a little to tear my eyes from it. On the other side of the room, the infamous what's-their-name trio made an appearance, both my parents greeting them with a nod and a polite smile. Despite not knowing their names, a flash had once made me certain they were highly influential and strong figures within the village - one of them was incredibly smart, I knew, and would have the position of jounin commander in a few years. The picture represented everything I'd have to struggle and fight against, from diplomacy to stubborn elders to conservative views and I knew - I knew - it'd be a long journey, and that sometimes I'd think it wasn't really worth it, that I didn't have to do anything just because I knew things, not really -

But then I'd just have to look at my brothers' smiling face to decide that yes, it was definitely worth it.

Making up my mind meant I had to come up with plans - lots of them.

First of all, I needed to see up close how exactly the village worked, and decided to go to the easiest place to begin at: my father's office. Being a child and the youngest kid of the hokage meant I had certain privileges I was going to make use of, whether I liked it or not. You can't really look a horse gift in the mouth, now can you?

Which found me once a day every week at the hokage's office, visiting him at random times. Sometimes, it'd just be to say hello and chill with the secretary, Sasakibe-oji; other times, it'd be to coldly observe every person that came into the tower, ninja or civilian. By the end of my third month of observation, I had noted that civilians very rarely came into the tower, and when they did, it was to attend an appointment with the Civilian Council (more usual) or with my father (less usual). I had also noticed that the third floor, where the missions desk was located, was by far the busiest floor, with a high flow of mostly genins and chuunins, with the occasional jounin. One day, I had actually asked my father if I could observe the chuunin manning the desk at work, and his soft heart had consented, so long as I didn't bother him.

Turns out the one in charge of handing out missions that day had been none other than Sasakibe-oji, a middle aged shinobi who had been my father's secretary ever since he had become hokage. The man was tall and lanky, with white hair and a stern face, but had always treated me kindly and not concedingly, and I liked him plenty. Whenever I visited my father and he couldn't see me immediately, Sasakibe-oji would pull a chair next to his and hand me a scroll and a brush so I could keep busy working on my calligraphy while he worked. We had created a very silent but comfortable companionship, and I greatly admired his patience and organizing skills.

On that day, he had allowed me to sit next to him, as usual, for the duration of my father's lunch hour, but I wasn't permitted to actively help him assign missions - which was perfectly understandable for me. I was pretty content to just pretend to be engrossed in calligraphy whilst paying attention to the people.

Not many people came to the missions desk during lunch unless they were summoned, so I didn't see many people that day. I did see, however, how Sasakibe-oji would carefully open every mission scroll, no matter if it was only a D-rank one, and clearly tell the ninja what they were supposed to do. Not for the first time, I admired his swift hands at work and the way he seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

(Sasakibe-oji, in my mind, was a hero .)

Turning two also meant my ninja training would officially begin, now that I could run around without stumbling face-first in the dirt. In the mornings, mother would wake all three of us up at exactly 6 in the morning, and we were expected to do a series of stretch and katas under the watchful eye of our aunt. After breakfast, Tooru would go to the Academy, at eight o'clock, and mother would work with Asuma and I on meditation and chakra control exercises.

It had been my very first contact with chakra, and I was excited. It wasn't something I was able to feel or manipulate before this, because I simply couldn't feel it. It flowed as naturally as the blood in my veins did, and only with proper training and meditation could the power to manipulate it be achieved.

"The leaf sticking exercise is one of the first we teach to those who have just begun their ninja training, not only because it is a good opportunity for you to actively feel your chakra, but also because it is an exercise of focus." It was a cloudless, warm day, and while Asuma was meditating, mother held a leaf in her hand. After her explanation, she pursued her lips briefly, and I could tell it was more out of thoughtfulness than hesitation. "You are already aware of the seal on your head and how delicate the balance of yin yang chakra in your body varies. Although this is your first attempt, do not rush it."

I nodded, showing just as much determination as I felt. I was going to do this slowly, but properly, and I was going to succeed.

Grabbing the green leaf from her hands, I briefly studied it, turning it over my hand and feeling the smooth texture. With perhaps more care than necessary, I gingerly felt its weight and its size, and how much chakra I'd have to focus on that point.

I tried, I swear I tried to not feel too self-conscious or pressured, but it was damn nearly impossible. Mother and I had agreed I would not try to do it on my forehead, as everyone else did, because that was right where my seal was and it was like asking for trouble to happen. Instead, I'd try to do it on my cheek.

"Chiyuki." Suddenly, my mother's hands covered mine - and, consequently, the leaf. Air came in a rush, and I realized I had stopped breathing. I hesitantly looked up to meet my mother's eyes, afraid I'd see disappointment, but all I saw was sympathy and comfort. I slowly let out a breathe. "Take your time, but do not think too much about it. Hold the leaf and focus your chakra so it sticks. I'll be here the entire time."

It was times like these I really appreciated how wise and supportive my mother could be. Sure, she had her overbearing moments, but she was also an excellent teacher and I knew that she wouldn't let anything happen to me.

Feeling much more confident, I nodded again at her, and she wordlessly put her hands back in her lap.

I put the leaf on my left cheek, trying to concentrate on the feel of its coldness against my skin. I focused on that, unsure of what I was actually directioning to that area, because you can't really feel chakra. The brief theory mother had explained to me had me associating it with some sort of inner energy, the kind of thing you can't really see or feel, just… trust it.

A quick second of unsureness, then mentally saying 'fuck it'. I focused on my right cheek and the leaf that touched the skin there, willing it to stick and to stay there. I let go.

The leaf stuck to my cheek, and my mother smiled proudly at me.

Of course, nothing in my ninja training was going to be easy. My immediate family had been ecstatic I was, apparently, a natural at controlling chakra, so much so that I had to slightly avoid my mother for a couple of days. I was told I'd be some sort of ninjutsu prodigy, maybe even a medical-nin. As a compensation, my stamina - and, consequently, my taijutsu - were a disaster.

I couldn't run for long, muscles quickly tiring out and stomach emptying much, much faster than the normal rate. I ate as much as a fully-grown adult multiple times a day, and whereas I'd been a vegetarian Before, I could not give up on animal-based protein, as it was readily available and what provided my body with most energy. As such, even after eight horrendous months of running laps, katas, and stretches, my progress was minimal. Ignoring my body's needs and trying to carry on with the physical training was a fool-proof recipe for disaster, as I'd eat - and eat, and eat, and eat some more - and then sleep for days. And headaches. Always, always, headaches.

(It had happened once , when mother was working until late and I'd been left to my own devices. Needless to say, after the scolding I got, I wasn't very eager to pull a stunt like that again so soon.)

For eight months, none of my parents had a solution for that. My chakra control meant that I'd have no problems with ninjutsu and maybe even genjutsu, but that wasn't going to mean a thing if I couldn't last five minutes into a battle. Mother had frowned at the seal on my forehead enough times to nearly make it combust spontaneously, and dived into old sealing scrolls whenever possible. Tooru, the goof, wondered if that wasn't going to prevent me from being a ninja, which earned exasperated looks from all four of us.

Which, okay, I could see his point. A ninja would be useless without stamina, no matter how powerful they may be. Not only that, but he was also trying to protect me from facing the harsh reality of our violent world, and I could appreciate that. Asuma and I were his baby siblings, and we both saw the look in his eyes whenever he thought we weren't paying attention.

It didn't mean that I'd stop trying.

(Perhaps Tooru and I had more in common than I'd ever thought possible before. Perhaps, he was sucking up the clan heir training for the same reasons I had decided to become hokage. It was certainly a nice thought to entertain.)

Finally, a couple of months after Asuma's fourth birthday party, in which I may or may not have convinced my brothers to wear fancy yukatas, my mother came up with a solution, as she was always wont to do.

Although both Asuma and I were able to climb trees using chakra and had moved on to water walking, he still could do much more physical training than I could; barely an hour into stretches and running laps I'd have to stop and eat something while he continued on without any problems. Sometimes, it felt as if my brothers were running ahead of me, and that soon they'd be so far ahead I wouldn't even have the time or chance to protect them.

Mother and father had agreed to not mess with my seal, because that could give me problems in the longer run, though they did say my excess of yin (spiritual) chakra was what was hindering my yang (physical) chakra from developing at the standard rate. I was told to work on my yang chakra by myself, through meditation, which yay, a solution, but boo, more meditation.

I sucked it up. I'd spend hours meditating in the morning, following my mother's instructions and slowly, with painstaking care, weave my own yang chakra into the uneven seal on my forehead. It was going to take years of meditation before I was able to do half the things Asuma was able to, but it was a solution nonetheless, and I took what I could get.

Mother had spent an entire hour lecturing me on how to actually do it, reminding me time and time again that, if I did it hastily, I could damage the seal and have to start the process all over again.

Thanks, but no thanks.

The next five months passed by in a blur. My third birthday party came and went, and this time I could enjoy a family gathering again. By this point, it was an usual sight to see me walking Konoha streets with one or both of my brothers next to me, to civilians and shinobi alike. People would sometimes wave and coo at us, and each time we answered with a smile, because we had all been raised like that.

Mostly, the time spent on the streets was a mission.

Of course I enjoyed getting dango with Asuma, or picking up Tooru from the Academy. Whenever we were by ourselves, something in my muscles just seemed to relax naturally, as if my body knew that these people were safe, and I always enjoyed spending time with them.

Time, however, was something I could not afford to waste. The few memories and flashes I remembered were carefully written in codes and hidden beneath all my books and notebooks. Some of them were already starting to mix and look confusing, and I was not going to make a mistake just because I was unable to plan in advance.

Getting to know people or simply observing them had become a bit of a hobby. I wondered at civilians, struggling to imagine what they thought of the ninja system and if they'd ever questioned it before. Highly unlikely, since brainwashing was done since birth and we weren't really allowed to do it. Sometimes I'd also stare shamelessly at random shinobi in the streets, some going or coming from missions, others simply doing grocery shopping. There was always that sureness in their steps, like they were content to live in the village and serve a military dictator.

Once, I had wandered into the least wealthy parts of town. It wasn't even something I'd done on purpose; on my own, I had a reasonable amount of freedom to come and go as I pleased, and no one would bat an eye at a three year old walking alone through the streets, much less a clan one. The change in scenery was subtle, but I could see the way the buildings would become smaller and dirtier, the streets narrower and the atmosphere darker. I had been but a few steps from entering the Red Light District, if the sudden big fancy house in the middle of rundown houses was anything to go by, when a middle-aged woman gasped and quickly ran to my side.

I had sensed her looking warily at me from afar, yes, but I had hoped she'd leave me alone. No such luck, it seemed.

"Sarutobi-hime!" Irritation at both being caught and the nickname threatened to share my mask, but I bravered on. There would be another chance, I'd just have to be patient. "Y-you shouldn't go over there, it's dangerous! Why don't you come with obasan and I'll drop you off at the Hokage Tower?"

She had been a civilian around her forties, average looking in every possible way except her bright blue hair. She didn't have any training whatsoever and her muscles weren't developed, and I could see she was extremely nervous just by being there, body shaking and frantic eyes glancing everywhere at once.

Silly woman. If you were so afraid, then why did you wait so long to stop me?

Mentally, I sighed and let my anger evaporate. Taking her hand, she let out a huge breath of relief when I took her hand and all but dragged us out of there and into the bustling main street.

My life seemed to really start moving along a month after I turned three, and a week after the Red Light District Incident. A dark-haired officer had taken me to my house, where then my ear was thoroughly chewed off. It was decided that, as punishment for wandering into places I knew I wasn't supposed to be, I'd spend a week helping Sasakibe-oji fill in unimportant forms and paperwork. It was time-consuming and boring work, but our dynamic had been established for over a year then, and the atmosphere we worked in was familiar and comfortable.

It wasn't really a punishment, but I wouldn't tell my parents that.

Four days into my paperwork-filling task, father was in a meeting with some jounins and Sasakibe-oji and I were seated at the desk in front of the office, silently working. It was going to be a slow day, I was sure, and nothing exciting would happen.

I was surprised out of my skin when a man suddenly shunshins inside the building, one with silver hair so wild it put Jiraya's to shame, holding a kid with similar hair in his arms.

When I looked bewildered into the kids' dark eyes and noticed a green scarf hiding a good portion of his face, it was like a metaphoric dam had broken in my mind.

'Well. Meeting Kakashi so early on can either be really good or really bad. May the Universe think it's the former.'

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Constructive criticism is more than welcome, but if you're gonna be an asshole about it, then just don't bother.

Notes:

I know this chapter was full of monologues and explanations, but I want you guys to keep in mind some things about Chiyuki before the plot goes on:

She has issues with her mother, and although she loves and appreciates her, she also feels overwhelmed and controlled in her presence;

She has brothers complex;

Although selfish and arrogant, she is also kind-hearted, and it's not until some time later that she'll start to live and learn the hard way how life really is;

The memories of her past life are scattered and blurry because of the seal on her forehead, so often she won't remember much about a character until she comes face to face with them.

Also, a question for you: who is your favorite Naruto antagonist and why?