Noemi Tsukiko

Noemi's POV

'Maybe in another life, our time won't be as brief as this one'.

Half-lidded eyes slowly lose sight of the scenic view adorned by the moonlit sky.

A whisper of a wish, a breath exhaled, engulfed by silence.

Gasped! Huff... Huff 

Throwing aside the sweat-soaked bed covers, I sat up abruptly, gasping for breath, trying desperately to bring back the air in my lungs and ease the tightening in chest.

I felt suffocated, so much so that I couldn't help but wheezed and coughed in between my huffing fits. Each time I exhaled thin stroke of misty clouds disperses into the night's stillness.

My head aches horribly and I was already reeling in dizziness but that soon became the least of my worries. In my struggle to breathe, an intense wave of emotions continued to wash over me—vivid and palpable.

A deafening beat of my rapidly beating heart drowned my surrounding. It distorted my perception and, for a moment, I almost didn't recognize where I am or who I am.

I was completely delirious from the pain—a pain so intense as if my soul is forcibly being ripped away from my body.

It felt like I've died.

Curling myself into a fetus, I seek to alleviate the discomfort and turmoil my mind and body was subjected to.

Heartache. Grief. Sadness.

​​​A maelstrom of emotions seared into me. Unbearable and incredibly maddening.

A sensation that barely felt familiar in my young age yet completely pale in comparison to this sharp, intense pain that weighs as heavily as a lifetime. 

Unbeknownst to me, tears had trickled down my cheeks and found their way to my knees—a warm and wet sensation that seeped through not at the thin layer of my clothes but at my consciousness. A silent alarm at the sudden realization that I was, in fact, crying.

It brought me back to my senses and the tightening in my chest slowly came undone, relieving me from the physical trauma inflicted by the dream. This brief reprieve soon gave me the time I needed to calm myself—the emotions that overwhelm me moments ago reduce to a distant memory. 

A faint echo of what had been.

Looking back, I tried to get a grasp of the dream that had evoked such intense feelings from me, but it was another futile attempt. Like the rest of the dreams that came before, it was a blur, a haze I couldn't seem to peer into—fleeting and elusive.

There was no recollection. No memory.

A dream that went just as fast as it came.

It was still the dead of the night and the cold autumn wind sometimes blew lethargically through the gaps of the tatami door, filling the room with freshly chilly air, yet it did not alleviate my feverish body.

The dreams and the fever that followed became a package I had grown used to now, and soon enough, when the moon goes down, the fever would go down on its own. 

It's getting worst lately. I frowned.

Despite how I feel, soon after regaining my composure and loosening my tense body, I got up to changed my soaked futon with a fresher set, closing the doors properly while I'm at it. Sleep easily took over me as I slowly lowered myself back onto the soft and woody-scented futon—limp and exhausted. Ignoring the wisp of the air that sounded too close to a whisper. 

Don't remember me.

If you asked anyone in the leaf village who knew Noemi Tsukiko, they would tell you that she is an unfortunate child. 

Born in autumn under a starless night, a mother who chose to give life to her newborn child, trading her own. And a foolish father, consumed by grief, followed after his wife and declared KIA, leaving their daughter behind.

That is the story I have gathered after I got old enough to understand what parents are and why I didn't grow up having any.

Whether there is some truth in it or not, the fact still remains. I, Noemi Tsukiko, lost both of my parents and the pain is just as real.

Right now, celebrating my fourth birthday under the roof of my grandpa, whom I loved and cherished despite sharing no blood relations with, is now setting up food at the table for this special occasion.

In my opinion, my birthday isn't something I believe worth celebrating for as it is the day I lost one of my parents, but I didn't want to mention that to grandpa because he would be really sad if I don't celebrate it with him.

He made sure to tell me whenever he had the chance to, that my birth is a blessing worth celebrating for and that I was born out of the love of my parents.

I never believed it.

I wondered, was it because of that love that the lives of my parents were gone?

'I didn't even get a chance to meet them'

A throb in my chest made me frown as I absently watch grandpa move around the whole kitchen with flawless maneuvering.

Grandpa may believe it and it might take some time for me to do too, but if there is something I do believe in, it's grandpa.

So, to my parents who gave life to me, I want them to know that they don't need to worry about me anymore, and that I'm living my life well with my caring grandpa.

I don't know why grandpa decided to raise me as my guardian—he never told me much, especially about my parents. He didn't even have me call him grandpa, just his name will do, he says, but it was only I who insisted in calling him that, and I could tell that he was secretly pleased with it, judging by his soft countenance whenever I called him 'Jii-chan'.

Back at grandpa's dining area, a tantalizing aroma wafted past my nose, and the sound of cooking magically lifted my spirit.

I have completely forgotten what I was brooding about because, without fail, grandpa's cooking always brings me joy.

I am a total slave for grandpa's cooking.

"Jii-chan, I'm hungry!" I whined as my stomach rumbled in agreement. I often get excited when it comes to grandpa's cooking. It's just the best.

He chuckled while stirring a pot of soba with a ladle as big as me.

"Hm. Wait a little longer, Emi. I'm almost done," he hummed listlessly.

True to his words, with a couple of ingredients added here and there, it wasn't long before he was done cooking.

Once grandpa finishes laying out everything on the low table, he settles comfortably onto the cushion placed on the tatami flooring in seiza.

"Itadakimasu!" 

We gave our thanks in unison.

Picking up our hashi from the hashioki, my fingers barely wrapping around them, grandpa and I started to dig in without delay—stuffing my bowl to the brim.

I grinned foolishly from ear to ear when grandpa saw me doing so.

"Hehe. This is my respect for your cooking, Jii-chan. You should know this is your fault for cooking so well!" I laughed in mischief.

I'm not exactly a well-mannered child but thankfully grandpa never mind that part of me. 

Grandpa must have noticed I was teasing him because his expression shifted from incredulity to amusement in an instant, and he unceremoniously took back some of my food to his.

He was a very serious person and takes jokes seriously. Even if I tried, I couldn't get grandpa to smile happily at me, much less laugh with me. But his eyes were honest and I knew he found me amusing.

"You'll get an upset stomach if you eat that much, Emi." he scolded still, blatantly ignoring my protest.

Grandpa prepared a variety of hearty dishes that would be considered a huge feast for a 4-year-old like me, even if it's to commemorate my birthday, just having to look at the table already make my eyes full.

'Honestly, I'm just glad that there is someone who I could spend this occasion with' I thought, soberly. A bittersweet feeling envelopes me.

I may be young but I am aware how lucky I am to have such a caring person taking care of me.

Subsequent to my birth, I was raised at the orphanage after I was old enough to move out of the nursery. There, I experienced a lot of things that forced me to mature—of which loneliness and neglect to name a few.

It wasn't that I was the only one. 

A lot of children who lost their parents to the perils of shinobi work ended up at the orphanage. There were so many of us, and so few care workers who had volunteered to handle us little devils.

Naturally, vying for attention was tantamount to survival.

It became a ruthless competition of who was the best and most lovable, a fight for scraps in the jungle called the orphanage.

I was one of the lucky few who had their adoption secured and because of that I was easily hated for it. 

It didn't help that the guardian who applied for my legal custody was one of the most prominent noble clans in the village, but it didn't mattered to me. Who he was didn't mattered. In my eyes, he was simply my only ally who pulled me out of that hell.

Since then, grandpa was my world.

Whatever the reason may be for raising a person like me, then and now, I had only felt immense gratitude for him, for being a strong pillar in my life and becoming someone who is precious to me.

I vowed to myself that I will repay him as much as he gave to me.

"Stop overthinking too much and just eat," a low rumble that sounded like my grandpa's old husky voice woke me up from my reverie.

I smiled and hummed in agreement then continued to eat my fill, feeling warmth from both the food and for this moment.

It's still midday.

Grandpa and I are preparing for a visit to the shrine near the Uchiha Compound to offer our prayers of gratitude.

It's a tradition we have upheld on my birthdays ever since I could walk, even before grandpa legally adopted me.

In our respective rooms, I dressed in my casual cream-colored kimono with red linings that feature occasional five-petal flowers blooming and decorating the entire garment, a simple red folding wrapped around the waist that serves as a belt.

Normally, I would have worn a more formal attire for this occasion but I do not own any, not because I couldn't afford it. On the contrary I still have the stash of money my parents left behind when they were still alive as an active shinobi, secured in the village bank under my name.

No. It's because there was no one to help me wear it, the complexity of it threw me off and grandpa was useless when it comes to a girl's attire. 

Plus its comfortable. I am not one to complain when I get comfortable.

Fixing up my silvery white hair into a loose twin tail tied securely at the nape, with soft curls delicately draping over my shoulder. I arrange a few baby hairs to lightly curl around the frame of my face. Feeling satisfied with my effort on looking comfortable and cute, I grabbed a haori and wore it over my kimono then turned towards the door, heading out to find my grandpa.

It turns out, I didn't have to go so far, as I spotted grandpa in the living room, already finished changing, and is now dressed in his traditional Uchiha clothing.

He wears a high-collared black top with long sleeves that resembles a kimono but has distinct features that set it apart. An Uchiha fan stitched proudly at the back for anyone to see.

Grandpa looks handsome as ever. And very much like any other Uchiha's. Even now, he gives off a regal and noble presence than anyone I have ever met. 

He watched me for a moment to see if I was done changing and nodded his approval. He then carefully reached out his arms to me as I move closer to him.

Since Grandpa's housing is situated on the edge of the Uchiha Compound, it will take a while for us to reach our destination with my small legs. That's why, for the most part of the journey, grandpa had to personally carry me on his back as we passed by the trees bordering grandpa's housing and the clan compound.

Jumping from branch to branch, grandpa carried me with a nonchalance unbelievable for his age. Each leap seemed to have carried us a several feet ahead, propelling us forward with unnatural speed. The trees blurring past us as we moved.

Under his tutelage, I learned the concept of chakra and its usage—how its sole existence made man do impossible things.

However, it wasn't entirely out of grandpa's volition that led him to teach me young, it was primarily due to my unique chakra sensitivity and my sever case of chakra leakage that guided his decision—it was, after all, my life that was on the line.

As time passed, my body learned to adapt to my unique condition, giving me a semblance of hope of recovery. I developed a constitution that rapidly increases my chakra reserves just as much as I have normally lost. With it, my range of sensory and heightened sensitivity grew in tandem.

Naturally, I was growing at a speed beyond my peers in terms of chakra reserves and as a sensor, a genius in my own right—at least, that's what grandpa told me.

Yet, it didn't come without a cost. 

Like a double-edge sword, the strain from my numerous and frequent chakra exhaustion led me to suffer both physically and mentally, thus it was inevitable that I became a regular guest at the hospital.

Still.

'The Hospital'

I'm sick of it.

That aside, grandpa now had a convincing reason to educate me in chakra control, ensuring that I know how to control the leakage as best as I could. He came up with my training regime, teaching me meditation and sometimes driving me close with physical exertion. He taught me on how to suppress my chakra, to consciously stop the leakage, and manipulate it safely.

It was a hellish training for a toddler patient whose told to cut, bleed and close her own wounds on a daily basis.

The only hope I had was what sort of reward I'll get upon my mastery. Would I be able to live normally with grandpa and cure myself from this defective body?

I no longer wish to be a burden.

It took a lot of time, effort, and pain to get to where I am now. The fact that I am able to withstand being in close proximity with grandpa's justu release and familiarize myself with his intense chakra signature is a feat I wouldn't have achieved had I not built tolerance over my hypersensitivity.

Grandpa continued to educate me, fully aware that I may follow this profession.

However, he made it clear that whether I chose to become a shinobi or remain as a civilian, he insisted that understanding the ways of the shinobi world would soon benefit me as I mature. He stressed that it was my responsibility to be well-informed in these areas if I wanted to have a fighting chance at protecting those I care about.

He secretly worries that the village won't be enough to protect me when he's no longer around.

We soon arrived at a clearing where a pair of Uchiha patrollers were moving about. When we were within their range of proximity, they abruptly stopped—their sharingan flickering in and out of existence as they sensed our arrival.

Grandpa put me down from his back as the patrollers acknowledged our presence with a respectful bow towards grandpa before continuing on their patrol.

In grandpa's clan, it is considered very rude to use shunshin or any sort of jutsu inside their compound unless there is a valid reason that excuses you. So from this point onward, we will have to walk like ordinary villagers.

Straightening the crease of my semi-casual kimono, we set out inside the Uchiha Compound.

The shrine is built at the other end of this massive uchiha compound. So, in order to reach our destination at the fastest time possible, we'll have to cross the entire area than going around it.

The uchiha clan's residence is vast, with thousands of their kin living their lives within it. They have everything you'd expect to find in a small village: a square, market, stalls, stores, library, infirmaries, training grounds, and public baths. I'm sure there are plenty of other things there, but those are what I've seen so far.

In addition, almost all of their buildings and houses were built in the same traditional style as grandpa's house.Their clothing reflects the distinct uchiha style with its high collars, long sleeves and dark-toned fabrics.

'I wonder why Grandpa lived such a secluded life despite having a whole clan right here,'. A paused.

'But I guess it is for the best considering my circumstances'. I bitterly thought as I continued to lower my head and move closer to grandpa on our journey to the shrine.

Every person we come across with are mostly uchiha's and very few non-clan villagers were let inside the clan compound unsupervised.

Whether it's because I'm an outsider myself, with my strikingly bright silver hair that contrasts so sharply with theirs, black as raven's feathers, or because I'm walking closely with an uchiha elder escorting me, it's no wonder my presence has attracted unwanted attention.

I am a non-Uchiha, freely walking around their compound. With each step we make, there were always eyes that followed me.

Turning to face grandpa, the stares must not have escaped his notice as well since it might have been the reason for grandpa's scowling face, or it could be just his usual default expression. I can't tell.

They likely have already heard of me—Noemi Tsukiko, the unfortunate orphaned ​​​​​​adopted child. A young girl unique for her bond with an Uchiha Elder.

A thorn in their eyes.

If not for grandpa's insistence on upholding this tradition, I would have never left his residence and would have happily spent my days engrossed in books and training.

"Elder Kazuma," A young adult crosses our path and greets grandpa with a respectful bow. He looks strangely different from his clanmates where the arrogant look typical for an Uchiha, is nowhere to be seen.

Instead, he wear a sunny smile beaming brightly at me, crouching in his attempt to meet me at eye level.

"Is it Noemi-chan's birthday already?" he asked happily, more to me than grandpa.

The tension in my shoulders, caused by the intrusive stares, sagged in relief.

Here is someone I'm glad to meet.

"It is, Hiroto-san!" I beamed just as brightly, showing off my own version of sunny smile.

Hiroto-san chuckled lightly at my enthusiasm.

"Since it's your birthday, I'll grant you a birthday wish as a gift from me!" he said, tapping his finger on my nose playfully.

"As always, nothing grand and should be within my capabilities" he adds, determined to fulfill my wishes, whatever they may be.

Moments like this reminds me on why I have come to like interacting with this Uchiha. I really like Hiroto-san—he didn't look at me with pity or indifference, he acknowledged me as someone he can converse with despite my young age.

I just hope that he stays within the village more often.

Just like my response before, I repeated the same request, determined to have my way. Puffing my chest, looking as serious as he. I stared at him hard, conveying that my mind is made up.

"Then Hiroto-san, I want you to teach me shurikenjutsu" I firmly answered.

You see, Uchiha's doesn't do well with feelings if you consider living with grandpa as a sufficient evidence.

I have only known Hiroto-san during these occasions, and sometimes private ones with grandpa, yet I can already tell that despite his optimistic countenance, he feels awkward and embarrassed when I express my affection and gratitude too much.

Regardless, that didn't deter me from being a bit selfish. If I could subtly provide him with a reason to spend time with me without being too pushy, that's what I intended to do.

Hoping to have the same reply as he did before, I look forward with anticipation.

Grandpa didn't say much, but he must have understood my intention to see Hiroto-san frequently. It seems like he is thoughtful enough when it comes to Hiroto-san as he left things the way they were.

Contrary to my expectation, Hiroto-san shook his head deliberately in rejection.

I felt a lump in my throat.

As a person who kept her feelings at arms reach, I let myself make a hopeful wish that has my sincerity only to be squashed.

Was I being too much?

A burden?

I forced a smile that didn't reach my eyes, concealing my disappointment and extend my understanding. I was about to take back my wish when he noticed my sinking mood and decisively held up his hand to stop me.

"Emi-chan," he started in mild panic, calling me with the same nickname grandpa gave to me.

"Although I did teach you shurikenjutsu, I think it's time that I teach you something else" he offered instead.

I bit my lip, restraining my joy and genuinely smiled at him, relieved for a chance to train with him once more.

Fighting back my joy, I smiled genuinely at him—thrilled to train with Hiroto-san again.

Last year, Hiroto-san kept his promise to me when I made my first wish. He was a great and kind sensei to have, a patient person who always watched over me. He taught me the most basics of shurikenjutsu.

Our time together might have been short but it was the best I ever had besides grandpa.

He's my first friend.

I wanted to continue seeing him often.

A hand moved in my peripheral vision, taking me by surprise, it was slow enough for me to track but fast enough to catch me off guard. Hiroto-san playfully tapped two fingers on my forehead this time. A habit he does with me when I get distracted.

"I'll tell you what it is next time, Noemi" he winked before getting up to talk to grandpa.

"That is, if Elder Kazuma is okay with it?"

"Hn."

Grandpa consented in a typical Uchiha fashion making Hiroto-san and me grin.

Hiroto-san bid us farewell after wishing me a happy birthday. As we proceeded to walked to the shrine, the air around us felt lighter than it did before, and, for me, a spring in my step—humming a familiar tune I couldn't place where I'd heard it from.

Arriving at the foot of the shrine, grandpa held out his hand to me and offered to carry me in his arms, which I gladly took. The stairs leading to the shrine is absolutely intimidating as imagining myself trudging the hike already make me feel incredibly exhausted. 

"Jii-chan," I mumbled, staring at the approaching Torii gate with arms wrapped tightly around grandpa's neck.

"Hn."

"I still don't understand. Why do we always have to come here on my birthdays?" I ask, never quite understanding the reason for our visits when the shrine appear deserted, indicating that not many people come here.

I would have brushed it off had I not known that this tradition was only applicable to me and not grandpa or anyone else.

It struck me odd and curious but I didn't mind since I get to have grandpa all day.

Grandpa tightened his hold on me, not knowing the internal struggle he's going through, before eventually calming down.

"Your Okaasan, Mirai Tsukiko, was the last descendant of a noble clan that worships the moon god, Tsukuyomi," he paused in front of the altar where we had come to pray. He sighed, knowing that I might not understand it now with my young age what that statement meant for me.

"...and this is the shrine of your clan's Kami" he gently puts me down besides him.

"I don't know much about your tradition or your lineage," he pondered out loud, saying more than he did before, about my origin.

"But according to your Okaasan, if she ever had a daughter, it is that child's duty to make an annual pilgrimage to the shrine."

Bending down at my level, he held my gaze in attempt to get his words through.

"And as your guardian, it is my duty to ensure your safety and assist you in fulfilling yours" he finished.

Grandpa didn't say much afterward, leaving me to contemplate on my own, processing the given information about my mother and the fact that my family was once a clan.

'Mirai Tsukiko' I smiled.

I never had the courage to ask Grandpa about my parents—for me, Grandpa is enough. Yet somehow, I can't help but smile knowing my mother's name.

In front of the altar, Grandpa and I had just finished our prayers.

He didn't ask me if I'm ready to leave yet, knowing that I might want to linger a bit more, so he opted to remain as he was.

'So this is my Okaasan's Kami'

I was curious about the altar, something I might have ignored otherwise. But now, knowing about my mother's heritage, I let my eyes roam around it, taking in every detail. Besides the altar, there is the statue of Tsukuyomi, as well as a passage written inconspicuously at the foot of the statue.

"As daylight fades into the night,

Memories shimmer, soft and bright,

Yearning for moments lost in flight,

On the path to the other world's light"

My body froze, eyes dilated after reading the passage. Heart skipping to a halt.

Something doesn't feel right.

I never seen that before.

There is a burning sensation at the back of my nape, intensifying by the second making me want to reach out for it. 

Grandpa easily noticed the panic in my chakra as his attention was fully focused on me from the very beginning, despite his deceptively wandering eyes.

The was a blinding and unbearable pain—just like the first time I experienced a jutsu, It burns like hot metal seared into my skin and I was lost in the agony of it all.

Before I have the chance to kneel down to the pavement, grandpa already took a stance to reach out to me and grabbed me by my shoulders, he mouthed something incomprehensible but I couldn't hear it at all.

And again.

For a moment, I didn't recognize anything.

I'm scared.

Like broken strings, I felt my body collapsed to an imaginary void, vision blacking out.

Beep.. Beep.. Beep..

Tack!

I lay back down on the too-hard of a bed after turning off the alarm clock, staring blankly out the window. The sun should have cast its warm rays, but they were blocked by the towering building next door.

The room was cramped with things I didn't recognize as my own. Still, I got out of bed and walked barefoot into a cubicle to wash and dress lightly, barely glancing at the mirrors that, strangely, reflected an adult body. After eating a jar of overnight oatmeal and a handful of nuts, I packed a few essentials into a small sling bag and stepped out into the busy city streets.

It's strange how I can feel, hear, and see my surroundings, yet I don't understand the purpose behind my actions—nor why I haven't felt a single emotion until now.

I reached an area where buildings were out of sight and people were no where to be seen. There, I met a man who owned a compound—his face obscured with what looks like scars yet still possessed a look that any woman would chase for. Without glancing at him twice I stepped forward into a clearing, a live sword tightly in hand.

Time moved forward faster than I could keep up with, and days were already spent.

Sometimes, I would take a stance and swung tirelessly—sometimes with the owner, sometimes with a training post.

i held the katana more than I wielded my fist. Each time I swung, a face would haunt me and my blade grew more frenzied. I morbidly envisioned cutting the me who loved, the me who had hoped and the me who had lead everyone to their deaths. 

It was the only time I was allowed to feel.

And I wish I didn't.

Waking up with a headache wasn't the first for me. In reality, I've suffered from it countless times during my training with grandpa. That's why, with a clouded mind, I easily dismissed it and slowly sat upright, surveying the area I was in, while my cool-grey eyes darted around the place.

In this four-cornered room, the dull white-colored walls, the way-too-familiar big of a bed, the strong smell of disinfectant and the metallic scent lingering in the room made me frown in recognition.

'Ah. I'm in a hospital ward, am I?'

My mouth formed a thin line in displeasure.

Given my circumstances, I already had too many visits from the hospital under my belt. I am not keen on adding another one to my medical records.

Lying limp on my back in a bed twice my size, I can't help but groan—putting my forearm over my eyes, I was still unsure of how long I have stayed unconscious for nor was I aware of the cause of it, and as soon as my headache clears up, I finally had the mind to recalled the events that led me to the hospital.

Right.

The Shrine. The Passage. Somehow, I subconsciously thought of something.

'Dreams'

A headache throbbed again.

I don't know what prompted that thought but it stuck on me—that it made sense without any logical explanation backing it.

It's true that I haven't had a peaceful dream ever since I started visiting the shrine. Each time, without fail, tore me apart inside. Yet strangely, I can't recall the events in my dream. I have an inkling that if I did...

I would have gone mad.

'Had my dreams meant something more?' 

Shaking myself out of that thought, another pressing matter still left unanswered.

"Jii-chan" I mumbled under my breath, my voice a lonely echo in an empty medical room.

'Grandpa. Where is he?'

I'm sure he brought me to the hospital after blacking out in front of him. It makes me feel awful for putting grandpa on another tough spot, but at least​ my hospital bills are being covered by my parents' insurance, relieving grandpa for the possible financial burden I almost costs him. I can't imagine how much I'd have to pay otherwise. 

That aside, I'm feeling better now.

So.

I want out.

But by protocol, it is stated that to leave the hospital's premises, the med-nin's approval is needed and grandpa isn't around to process that approval for me and escort me out.

In other words, I am as good as stuck.

The room I am staying is a special medical unit meant to regulate the flow of chakra with the help of seals, a room used to cater to patients like me who suffer from chakra hypersensitivity—a condition rarely anyone is born with.

Why am I saying this? Well. Looking around there are no patients other than me. Even my room is situated farther away from the occupied wards.

'I wonder if I could...' 

My eyes traveled to the window where I am conveniently close at hand, easily opened without anyone keeping me in or out.

'It's time to put grandpa's chakra control to the test'

I smiled excitedly.

Getting out of the window using the tree climbing jutsu was awesome.

I love it.

I'm really glad I learned it.

Sure, there are some hiccups here and there, but I didn't break any bones, so...

I'm good.

'Sorry, Jii-chan' 

I clasped my hands together like a prayer.

Confident that grandpa would be able to find me later since he too is an exceptional chakra sensor, I excitedly set out on my own with only my guts to guide me—pulling me somewhere like how fate pulls its strings.

The only regret I have is having to wear a very conspicuous hospital gown. If not for the pajamas they so graciously provided me with, I wouldn't have attempted to go out.

I took a few leisurely walks around the village hospital, putting one foot in front of the other, until I reached a place where the sound of children's laughter filled the air.

Like a moth drawn to flame. I couldn't resist to go despite the dull pang in my chest whenever I come across this place—the civilian playground.

As soon as I arrived, a group of kids can be seen playing in their sandbox, while others enjoyed their time by playing tags—their moms and dads sat on the benches, keeping a watchful eye on their children.

I didn't have any friends, save for Hiroto-san.

Grandpa doesn't count.

It might have been because of my condition—chakra hypersensitivity isn't something to scoff at, you know.

I remembered before grandpa taught me, sensing a person's signature is enough to make me overload with pain, especially if they're a shinobi who are closer to a walking fire.

But with chakra control suppressing my senses, I no longer have to deal with it.

And if necessary, I could just endure it.

It can be an asset when needed, but for now, I have suppressed it as much I can, and with my level of control, it was more than possible.

Even then, I found it hard to be closer with my peers. Living in a shinobi village means there are no secrets. It's not just the Uchiha who knew about my past—others, like the civilians, were well aware too. Associating with me wouldn't bring them any benefit.

I was labeled as an unfortunate child, a girl who killed her parents for being born.

Grandpa might not know but I can feel the stares thrown at me. Their chakra flaring in colors, bright and painful. Their emotions out of the open—incredibly overwhelming.

I haven't told anyone, but I have the eyes to see through a person with only the color of their chakra. I wasn't sure if it's natural but everyone has one. 

It used to be faint and negligible before and I only came to know of it when I focused my chakra into my eyes, but the longer grandpa taught me, the colors became more distinct, and the more I came to know the feelings other had for me.

Pity. Disgust. Indifference. Fear.

These were the emotions that dominated them in my presence. It confused me. Hurts me all the more. Their harsh stares did not go unnoticed by their children, and soon, they too followed their lead.

Grandpa didn't need to see the colors but understood this nonetheless, and so he never force me to make friends.

Still, I continued to silently watch over the children play with each other, patiently sitting under the shade of a tree, leaning lethargically against its tree trunk.

I stayed like that until the sun started to set.

And when it did, I left.

In the midst of my walk back to the hospital, where I'm sure an army of nurses will be eagerly waiting for a piece of me.

I sense someone approaching me—at a ridiculous speed at that. I should have moved aside yet, for some inexplicable reason, I got paralyzed on my feet.

When I came to be, it was too late.

I wasn't fast enough to dodge out of the way.

Aaarrgghh!

My breath was knocked out of me, back slamming against the ground with pebbles scraping and piercing my skin. I didn't realize I fell until I was already flat on the ground.

I groaned from the pain coursing through my body, my back bearing the worst of it. Despite the dizziness and disorientation, I forced myself to sit up.

'I must have hit my head', clutching my head to ease it.

As I turned my gaze to the culprit of this incident, my eyes glazed over, a lost memory finally resurfaced.