Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't care. Writing this for free.

Before I start I want to apologize if any religious people gets offended by a small rant that might come as heretic. However, my being a catholic and seriously trying to picture myself in a world of ninja makes me think about the way I would feel if I discovered the beliefs I have been raised in are false (you know, because the reincarnation thing). However, since I have yet to be reborn in a fictional world, I can say with all certainty that I do believe in God, in Jesus, Virgin Mary, etc. So please, don't take my SI's rants seriously.

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Chapter 2: Going nowhere

I took a deep breath as I sat with my legs crossed in the classic lotus position. I was meditating, focusing in the energy within my body as the world outside seemed to vanish from my senses. My eyes were closed, I could no longer hear the busy steps of the people outside the room, and the smell of antiseptic faded from my conscious mind.

All I knew was the rhythm of my breathing, the easy flow of blood in my veins, and the little tingles the little hairs on my arms made as the almost non-existing wind drove them to brush my skin.

I knew I needed to find my core, to find my life energy, the chakra all humans had in this life as a gift of the Tree of Life. I concentrated, searching, imagining myself as a hunter trying to unclog her nen coils; tried gathering my ki to build up the energy for a Kamehameha wave, tried to focus my all my Spiritual Energy in one spot so I could beam it out of my body like miko powers capable of purifying demons to dust, I was... feeling rather stupid.

Opening my eyes I felt heat climb to my cheeks as it dawned on me that I had been trying to do something the likes of which I hadn't tried since I was a little kid who dreamed of becoming a Sailor Earth because in a show in which all planets had Sailor Scouts only ours didn't. Which, one reincarnation later, I still found stupid.

Feeling frustrated, childish and more disappointed that I should have, I flopped backwards, letting out a sound that was a mix of a groan and a roar.

I looked at the ceiling, annoyance spiking because I truly believed I could finally live the dream of having some sort of super power. But of course, I couldn't be like TV show heroines who fought the forces of evil and save the world by calling forth the power of a magic artifact, which came with a new wardrobe included... then again, I probably would let the mystic power go to waste because I wouldn't be caught dead with a skirt that short... or would I? Magic powers seemed like a good enough reason to go around flashing panties all over the place.

Whatever.

Silently, I mussed what to do to get the chakra I knew I had in my body work for me. In the end, I figured having a teacher would be convenient so I could learn how to hoard enough energy for the Jutsu equivalent of party tricks, which should suffice to satisfy my inner child. Once I had gotten "getting magic powers" off my bucket list, I would probably master those Justsus who would be useful for a civilians life: a fire Justu so making bonfires became easy, the ninja version of Aguamenti so I wouldn't have to fetch water from the well once I lived out of the hospital, some Jutsu that could help me stun drunkards or robbers or whatever jerk who tried to cause me bodily harm... yeah, Jutsu seemed like a nice thing to learn.

I wonder why most civilian didn't caught up on that. Specially since we had yet to reach the time in Naruto cannon where there was electricity, indoor plumbing and Cinemas... not that the last one could hold a candle to the other two in relevance, but it was still annoying knowing I wouldn't be able to sit in a sofa and let my brain rot while I watched what I assumed would be tales with badly done effects and corny dialogues.

Then again, people who started studying Justu-related things always became ninja, probably because the competitive environment and culture, while I was perfectly content to aim for mediocrity in this life.

Mediocrity seemed a good bet to stay alive in a world where becoming a great individual was a synonym of becoming a bigger target. Which didn't mean I didn't want to do something productive with my life, or that I wouldn't strive to get a comfortable life by having a decent job. I just would try to do so while keeping myself as unremarkable as possible... I would probable marry someone who is in the food busyness. After all, my grandfather didn't starve during Franco's dictatorship because a relative of his had a meat shop.

A pang of pain in my belly cut short my considerations of possible husbands to aim for. The pain was as intense as it was familiar, and I felt like eating an unholy amount of chocolate donuts. I glared to the pads in the table next to my bed. I had gotten it from a ninja nurse (because I kind of remembered from the show there were no regular nurses), who had looked at the blood running down my tight, tossed me the bags and gave me what had to be one of the most militaristic and brief explanation of what becoming fertile entailed. It went like: "bleeding like that once a month means you can bare children, you don't bleed after having sex, you got them... now put those on and don't bleed all over the sheets, or I'll make you wash them at the river."

I never got The Talk from my parents (not that I remember) because all that I needed to learn came from biology classes and the internet... I wonder if I should feel grateful of disappointed to have escaped that bullet.

Oh well, I guess I will figure that one after I have children of my own and continue the tradition of explaining why boys have screws and the girls nuts.

But more relevant that the wonders of being a woman, was the joyful future I had coming: get out of here, life a life without donuts, cheese cake ice cream, TV or the internet, then try not to die a horrible death while I life in a perpetual war zone, yay me!

That there was nobody around to appreciate my sarcasm made me feel even more annoyed, so I flipped until my face was buried in my pillow; then I started screaming and cursing at the universe, fate and God which... well, I probably would have never done the later in my past life because I was once a catholic; but getting tossed into the rebirth cycle instead of having my soul going up to the clouds, where obese babies played harps, was a clear sign I had been barking to the wrong tree.

Dammit, all those Sundays wasted in prayer.

And I still wanted donuts.

I started to punch my pillow as I insulted ninja's dangling parts in Spanish because my Japanese list of profanities wasn't as big as the one I had in my native language one reincarnation ago...

"Ahem," a sound came from behind, and I could not honestly say whether or not I was still corrupting the metaphorical ears of my pillow, when the noise coming from the door made me look back. There was a Yamanaka there, which wasn't at all surprising because I had been a prime example of how a person can lose all her screws and keep living. They probably were using me as didactic material so the future generations could understand how sometimes even the best of them failed to bring someone from the brim of insanity... or maybe I was just imagining things because I wanted someone to direct my monthly fury at for at least five minutes.

The Yamanaka man (I should probably learn his name at some point) gave me a look, took note of something, mumbling about Senju-sama (who just had to be Tobirama) wasting his time with my check ups when I was a lot cause.

I look at the man go, feeling profoundly indignant. I was no longer crazy!

It was official. I hated the Naruverse.

I felt a sudden urge to scream and trash around. I gave into the desire, yelling all the while I jumped from the bed to the floor and started kicking the pristine white walls over and over. I knew I was not helping my cause, but I could care less. After all, I had spent years being truly crazy, so having an episode now was like throwing a drop of dew in the ocean: it didn't do a damn difference.

The usual nurse came into the room, hands glowing green, then she put her hand on my head and I knew no more of the world around me.

I once again became a prisoner of oblivion.

...

When Senju Tobirama saw Yamanaka Shinya standing right outside his office with a frown, he asked the man if he wanted some tea. Because Tobirama knew that whenever that particular Yamanaka came from a visit it meant Shayoko made something worrying; like that time she threw a plate to a nurse, who managed to duck, but didn't react fast enough to keep a happily running civilian kid from stepping all over the broken ceramic. Hand't the girl been under his juresdiciton, she would have ended up in a more issolate room of the phsychiatric guard.

"Senju-sama, I know you still hope the girl will recover from trauma, but there has been no improvement in 6 years."

"I know,Yamanaka-san," Tobirama admitted flatly, and silence settled in the room for several moments. "What did she do this time?" He settled on asking.

"She started screaming and kicking walls for no apparent reason," he explained exasperated. "I had barely gone into the room when she tried to kick a hole in the wall, and the nurses had to knock her out to get her to stop. Because they know from experience she never stops once she starts lashing out."

"What do you suggest we do then?" Tobirama asked looking unphased.

Before the Yamanaka could reply to that, a polite knock from the door. "Senju-sama, I brought your tea," his assistant, a thin, black haired woman, came in carrying tea for the two of them, put the plate on the table, bowed "Yamanaka-san," then left the room.

Yamanaka Shinya sighed. And both ninja knew what he would say before he spoke, "I think you should move on. Senju-sama, I know it is not in my position to butt in, but you should stop investing so much energy on that girl, and spend more time with other people."

"I spent a lot of time around people," Tobirama defended, feeling a bit annoyed to the now old argument between him and the Yamanaka, who seemed to be convinced that his guilt for the girl was the reason Tobirama had yet to start looking for a woman to settle in. And there were a lot of those women, even outside the Senju clan, who had made moves on him, which made peple wonder why was he still single.

He turned down all advances, of course; he didn't feel atracted to them, and he didn't have time for relationships when his happy-go lucky brother/hokage merrily dumped most of his paperwork on him while he ran around with that foolish grin of his, making friends out powerful shinobi clans that would one say become part of the lifeforce of Konohagakure.

If his Hashirama's actions were not vital for the future of the village they were building, he would punch the Mokuton user in the face, Hokage or not.

"Spend time with people outside of work Senju-sama," Shinya clarified exasperated. "Even your brother has found the time to romance Uzumaki Mito, marry her, produce an heir and fullfull his duties to the village."

That last remark angered Tobirama. Of course Hashirama had time to romance the Uzumaki red head and reproduce. Tobirama was the one swamped with paperwork! Despite of that, nobody gave him a break; specially not the Senju elders who were pushing him to "follow into his brother's steps" and help restablish the number of clan members that had dwinled in the years of fierce conflict against the Uchiha Clan.

"I will take your words into consideration," Tobirma replied with finality and the Yamanaka knew a dismiss when he heard one. Soon enough the white-haired, red-eyed Senju was left alone in the room with a mountain of paperwork and a tray of rapidly cooling tea.

He took a long sip of his tea cup, eyeing the paper on top of the pile with an unhappy look. His brother's newest idea seemed to mock him back from the paper because he knew that idea of Hashirama to send the children to perilous situations, in small squads mostly formed of teams of different clans was going to be a nightmare to implement. Sure, it was a good idea to create lasting relationships while combining the best talents of the shinobi they had, but to convince the clans that the fate of their potential heirs could be influenced by a ninja academy, then they would be sort of raised by a jounin that would take them into mortal perril...

Tobirama snorted. And people still wondered why he was still single with all the messes he had to help his brother with.

Tobirama put down his now empty vase in a distracted fashion, failing to remember the extra vase his assistant had brought for the Yamanaka. Of course, the contents didn't get to spill completely, but a drop or two managed to make it out of the vase, staining the scroll with the fragrant chamomile and jasmine beverage.

Still, his senses were a bit strained at the moment. He needed some air. And if his much needed walk happened to be in the direction of the hospital... well, no harm visiting the closest thing to a daughter he had.

He only wished said "daughter" wasn't completely insane.

...

I woke up with a headache. The world tilted and spun at the sudden jolt at not waking up into my dainty room, with low quality wood furniture coverend with plush toys I kept despite reaching adulthood. However the disorientation (while sickening) didn't last long. The reality replacing the last tickling memories of a happy life hit me with the softness of a sledgehammer tied to a racing car. And I felt alone. So, so alone. I was an outsider, a crazy kid without a future and with a second childhood I wanted to forget about.

I wanted my mommy.

A lone tear slid down my pale cheek, then another and another. But I didn't let the damn break. I needed to pull myself together.

The thin white fabric on my body made my stomach revolt, and an inner voice bitterly pointed out that there was a whole closet of clothes I would never be able to use again.

"What did I do to deserve this?" I murmured with a broken voice, not caring that the point on my chest I was clutching would be getting a very painful bruise.

"Mom, dad, I, I'm not ready to grown up yet. I want to know you will be back home when I return there, that I will smell a cake in the oven every now and then, that I can tell you about my days. I miss my baby dog, I miss your nagging that my room is a mess... now I don't even have enough things to mess a room, nor have one of my own to mess. And I don't have you. And I miss you so so much."

The feelings bubbling up in my chest were so painful and I humorlessly realized I was going through the stages of grief: denial, depression... what where the others? Anger, negotiation and aceptation? If only I had google to search upon that.

For some reason, that I could be frustrated upon such a small thing made me snort in humor. I was probably more fucked up that I had realized.

Then I started to cry so much I couldn't see what was beyond my nose, so I didn't notice someone else in the room until I was pulled into a warm chest that smelled positively male and husky. My wailing only increased now that I had someone to hold me. The feeling of tiredness that was there increased when a napkin was put over my nose and mouth, and I was unsure if it had gotten damp on my tears, snot or something else entirely.

"I'm sorry," the male voice sounded so distant that I couldn't identify the owner. But that was ok, I was too tired to care. A small itch inside my nose made itself known as an unfamiliar stench came from the fabric.

Naruto People sure needed an improvement in soaps.

Then I simply collapsed into oblivion.

...

Tobirama finished his walk towards and incidentally made a detour for the hospital. That he was currently carrying a big box of dango while he didn't like them very much was also a councidence. But, since he was in the hospital already and had sweets he wasn't planning to eat he figured he would give them to Sayoko as a peace offer of sorts since he hadn't had the time to visit for months.

Then he heard a noise, "Sayoko-chan?" he asked carefully as he opened the door but there was no response. His eyes immediately landed on the messy bed, which was now currently empty. A feeling of dread pulled into his stomach as flapping curtains made him look up and notice that the window was open and the locks that usually kept them closed were melted, and a faint smell of oil and burnt metal permeated the air.

Someone had kidnaped the little girl.

And if the smell of blood in the room was any indication, she had gotten hurt in the process.

Tobirama saw red.

Completely obvlivious to the bag of pads innocently resting on the room's table.

To Be Continued.

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AN: Dun dun duuuun.