So, first I suppose, welcome to the rewritten chapter one of LP. If you're new, then enjoy the ride and know you missed out on nothing. If you're not, then thank you for sticking with me. Hopefully, this'll be much better than the original, which I am sad to say had little to no planning/research done and I never wrote the best I could to be honest.

However, that being said, some things will remain the same and some things will not. The overlying plot of course will stay the same, but there will be some defining changes.

Enjoy!

Lunar Phenomenon

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Chapter I

Of New Beginnings

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It was truly ironic how she had been sucked into her mother's world from her own, and her mother had been sucked into another one that might have been her own. The circle of life, huh?

Funny thing was—dying had twisted her dry humor into something a little more… morbid—she had been birthed in the Naruto-verse. Now, it wasn't actually funny, mind you, but there was something so damning about it that made her want to laugh until her voice grew hoarse and raw. (She realized that something other than her humor might have been twisted as well, but—)

(That just made her want to laugh harder.)

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The orphanage she survived—she didn't think she could ever say that she had lived there, not after what she had endured—in for the first few years of her new life was a shabby building that should have never gotten that many lost and needy children with a Matron who tried her best to satisfy them.

("I want mommy! M—mommy! Wahh!"Another toddler wailed for a person that would never come, fat hands grabbing at empty air. It was almost saddening to watch as Mother—the Matron always told them to call her that—struggled to reassure the demanding child with already two nestled in her warm arms.

Almost instantly, the children picked up the battle cry and the orphanage was once again a cacophony of desperate, lonely voices wanting to be held.)

She always kept quiet—even when her stomach growled and her teeth itched and her heart ached for human company. Once she turned two, she realized she wasn't the only one who tried to make things better for Mother.

(A child was crying in the room next to hers. This wasn't anything unusual, or out of the ordinary, no, it was the fact that no muffled footsteps and creaking doors could be heard. There was only the wailing that was ever so slowly increasing in volume as the time the child went alone increased.

Mother hadn't heard—but she had.

She sat up, careful not to place her small hands on a squeaky spring, and looked around the room to see if anybody else had woken up. No one had.

So she slid off the bottom bunk—she was eternally grateful for not picking the top one—and approached the wooden door, wincing at the slightest sound and hoping no one would wake up. Eventually she reached it, but as she reached for the handle, she frowned in annoyance.

She wasn't tall enough.

Well, she had never thought height would continue to bother her even in her next life. With a quick breath, she attempted to tip-toe and made another grab for the door handle. Thankfully, she managed though her muscles felt stretched and sleep was rapidly coming nearer.

Stepping outside the room, she didn't close the door because she didn't think she could make another risky tip-toe save. Sage, did she hate her age! Here, she didn't take as many precautions to not step on hollow planks, because the foundations that kept the second floor from collapsing were directly underneath the hallway. They were solid. Plus, most kids learned to deep sleep after being there for more than a year.

She pouted when she saw the door where the crying was coming from was already open. Had one of the older orphans beaten her to the punch? They couldn't have, all of them were selfish pompous brats.

…right?

She sighed in relief. It was a boy probably a year or two older than her that had come to the rescue. Not old enough to count as an older orphan. But still. Should a three year old know to come quiet the kid to give Mother some more sleep?

Hell if she knew. Paying attention to kids in her previous life hadn't exactly been a hobby… the most time she had spent with a kid younger than her was with her cousin when he was five—not three. And she didn't think her—sweet, adorable—cousin would have thought to do what that three year old was doing.

Perhaps it was a prodigy? But what prodigy had been an orphan from the start? None that she could remember; Kakashi was made one around age five and had Minato as a guardian afterwards, and Itachi was the one who made himself an orphan, really.

Seeing the boy rocking the sniffling kid, she felt reassured that the kid would be fine and went to return to her room without alerting someone of her mental maturity. She had a feeling it wouldn't go over too well. Or just, you know, go well for her—or at all, actually.

This universe was terrifying and she didn't know how she'd do later on. Her mental stability probably wouldn't be the greatest, especially when anything right now could possibly break her. She was still a little shaken up over her own death.

"Wait!" It was a hissed shout. She didn't take to it too well; she yelped slightly. "Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to… scare you."

"It fine." She tilted her head, that hadn't come out right, had it? "It… fine? No—it's fine." She nodded to herself, now that was the right way to say it.

The boy managed a weak smile at her failed trials.

She huffed. Stupid boy.

"Um, thank you," the boy scratched the back of his head nervously, "for coming to help."

Upon further investigation, she noticed a bandage wrapped around his head. "Hurt?"

Mentally she seethed, when Mother wasn't looking, she would go to the small bookshelf and find books to read. She couldn't believe how bad her language skills were. They were abysmal and that was not acceptable. It would have to be extra discreet though, she couldn't have anyone thinking she was a prodigy. Not until she was at least five and knew exactly what she would be getting into.

"This?" He pointed to his head. She nodded. "It doesn't hurt anymore so don't worry."

She blinked in surprise, she hadn't been worried—curious more like it. Oh well, he could go on thinking she was just some cute worried two year old. It couldn't hurt her.

He smiled at her reaction and she had to wonder what he took her blink at, a sign that she understood? Was happy he wasn't in pain? She had no idea how actual little kids thought.

"You should go back to bed now," he gestured at her room and she got the message even if she didn't like taking orders.

She would go back to sleep.)

Soon after that incident, her grasp on the language, Japanese, increased and she mastered Hiragana. It was surprisingly easy. Katakana came next, and well, she struggled. It was definitely harder. 'Mu' and 'ma' were practically the same but twisted—except she could never which was which—and 'se' and 'sa' were the same. Then you had 'ne' that was just plain impossible to write as an almost three year old. It was frustrating so say at the least.

Luck must've been on her side though. No one had discovered her favorite pastime yet; reading.

There was a strict schedule at the Orphanage to keep it running and right before lights out, there was a ten minute break for socialization. She never used it as such and instead used it to read and practice Japanese, because Kanji.

It was going to kill her. A lifetime ago, a sister of hers had studied Chinese and she remember hearing her study, flipping the pages of workbooks and copying the meanings as well as the pronunciations. It hadn't seemed like fun then and it certainly wasn't going to be now. Of that, there was no doubt in her mind.

Her life continued and she occasionally saw the boy in the hallways. He would always wave and smile at her, the most she'd do was tentatively wave back. It was weird how cheery he was. And those glasses that had magically appeared on his face sent her brain scrambling.

There was just something so familiar about his face with the glasses on. It did nothing but increase the goosebumps that showed up each time he smiled. Like, he was cute—he was a kid—but just randomly smiling a stranger who you don't even know the name of seemed like he was waiting to get taken advantage of. So, as logic dictated, she steered clear of him.

She didn't want to get killed because of his over trusting tendencies, thank you very much.

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A year passed, she turned four, started Kanji, and the kid was still grinning at me like a brainwashed fan! She was slightly worried for his well-being. What could she say, naïve little kids that didn't know any better tugged on my almost non-existent heartstrings?

More kids were pushed on the orphanage's doorstep—literally—as the third shinobi war dragged on. From what she had put together, Konoha was at a slight disadvantage despite being one of the best shinobi villages. Suna—their supposed ally—wasn't helping them in the slightest, and when a shinobi had dropped by the other day—probably another orphan that had long since graduated—they said that Suna had ambushed a team of chunin, killing all but one who had managed to escape with his life enact.

It was depressing to hear about, but fun to think if they too had landed in a different world with strange laws and customs. Would they land in her world? Or in Bleach-verse? Could you imagine Attack on Titans? Oh, they would get positively slaughtered like pigs, she thought with glee.

The book in her hand had all been but forgotten as she crawled deep inside her head caught in her thoughts. The possibilities were endless. If she died again right now, would she be sent to another world again? Maybe it wasn't limited to just anime?

If there was a Harry Potter world out there, she swore to find it. That was one world she really wouldn't mind being born into. Sure, Voldemort was terrible, but you were fine if you stayed out of the way… right?

That was what she was hoping, because that was really the only thing she planned to do in this world. Though being a shinobi would be pretty cool. And if she died sooner rather than later because of her career choice, well, that was one step closer to being a wizard.

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The war was over but—

Children were missing.

One of them had been the girl who had the top part of their bunk, and it had thoroughly spooked her. She could've been the one taken and that was enough to get her to start moving for the future. The orphanage was no longer safe.

She needed to find some other place before she could apply for the academy. With children disappearing every other night, she could escape the place at night under the guise of being taken. No one would search for her. The other orphans were far too afraid of being taken as well.

It was something out of nightmares for them.

All of them wanted to make a mark on the world—to be known, to be loved—and to have that opportunity whisked right underneath their noses scared them down to the very marrow of their bones. None of them wanted to live and die with no one ever knowing their name.

They didn't wanted to be ghosts.

She understood the fear well. Living as an orphan the past five years had given her an imprint of their fear. An echo of sorts that she felt when she noticed one more child disappear without ever truly living.

Mother seemed to lose more and more sleep as more and more children disappeared under her watch. The dark bags underneath her eyes seemed far more visible than usual and her face seemed to have been permanently sewed into a stressed frown and concerned eyes. At least she pretended for the youngest kids that everything was fine, but everyone past the age of five seemed to have caught on to the undercurrent of fear and panic.

They didn't when and where the mysterious kidnapper would appear and if they were next. It made everyone jittery and on their toes, ready to run at the first sign of danger.

They were all cowards.

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Around a month later, she took her chance and rolled with it.

The orphanage was on the outskirts of the famed Konoha forest, and while it had seemed logical to go at night, she was regretting her decision. The shadows of the branches and towering, gnarled trees that blocked the moonlight weren't exactly comforting, especially when the kidnapper could be in that very forest watching her—following her—

She shook her head, even as she glanced around uneasily and her hands tightened around the pack she had brought along, she couldn't start to think like that. That kind of thinking would psych herself out and that couldn't be afforded to happen.

The forest might not have been the safest place to be in, but neither was the orphanage. She was a little sad to leave the smiley little boy behind. She clung to the hope that since he was familiar to her, he remained alive throughout the show. Her presence couldn't have affected the timeline that much.

Not that she knew where exactly she was in it, but she was sure to find out soon. Hopefully, not the rookie nine time because the academy would be a mess then. Hell, she might not even join if it was. But she was, like, nine-eight percent sure it wasn't because the third shinobi war had just ended and they were all born during a time of peace if she remember correctly.

She ignored the sneaking suspicion of where she got placed within the timeline, because it seemed almost too cruel to be true. So she did the next best thing, she distracted herself from the possibility.

Almost whistled before freezing. Maybe she should just focus of her surroundings. She was finally out of the haunted forest—she didn't care what anybody told her, shadows didn't move out of blue—and the city was in view. It was almost midnight, or at least she assumed it was, but people were still moving out and about.

She didn't care though.

She had made it out—alive.

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A walk around the village told her that there were several abandoned buildings that she could use as a hideout. One was far from the academy, so it was immediately crossed of the metaphorical list. Another was on the verge of collapse and obviously not safe. There were a couple more that meet her requirements, and in the end she was just left with one.

All in all, she was satisfied.

The place wasn't too run down yet. Probably had been abandoned recently if the light dusting was to go by. The lighting still worked, which was an extra bonus. However, there was a broken window that let in a cold draft that had chilled her on the first day sleeping there. She told herself that as soon as she learned to walk on walls she would cover it up. It seemed like a good plan, anyway.

She took out the extra blanket she had taken from the orphanage, and unexpectedly, a pang of guilt struck her. Some kids needed this more than her, and yet, here she was.

Had another kid been taken yesterday night while she was on her escapade to freedom? Had that kid taken her place? Had she been the one who was supposed to be taken? Would the smiley kid survive in this harsh world? Or had he been the kid who was taken?

These questions plagued her and sucked the joy of being free right out of her cold, shriveled heart.

She didn't deserve being free. She didn't deserve to be alive.

She didn't deserve to be breathing after dying once.

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So, taking a page from Shikamaru's book, she became lazy and hid her adult wit until a situation called for it. It had worked so far for her. Eventually, it became a natural part of her and it didn't feel as fake as it usually did. Being lazy and always sleepy was… nice in an expected way.

She could literally be a cat—her favorite animal. And so that became that.

The books at the orphanage had been great, but they were old and outdated. She got herself a library card and checked out books on the daily. The librarian even got her to squeeze out her name one day and always reminded her that the books had better return in pristine condition or else. The librarian never actually completed her threats but rather left them open.

Without a doubt, the librarian obviously cared about her. It was sort of sweet, watching her peer suspiciously through her glasses at her.

Food—well, food was stolen. At least she got her running practice, and her hands no longer trembled when she concentrated. Stealing only improved her skills, really. The thrill of getting away with it was intoxicating and left her wanting more excitement in her life.

Then, spring rolled around the corner and she was filling out forms for the academy. It was tiring to be honest. She had gotten used to lazing around her new home and doing nothing except sticking her nose in a book. Occasionally, she would doodle a little something or another on a page and laugh, picturing the librarian's reactions. It was pretty fun.

Life was good for her.

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Or at least, it had been when she had been forever ignorant of the horrors that would await her on her first day of school.

Uchiha Itachi.

Uchiha fucking Itachi.

She decided to steer clear of him and hoped to never get involved with the mess that was his life.

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She really, really hated when her master plan didn't work.

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(Oh, how she wanted to laugh now.)

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So it's a bit different already, whether its good or bad, well that's up to you.

Leave a comment, maybe?

(Thank you so much to the people who have favorited, followed, and reviewed! I hope you don't hate me for rewriting it, but I really couldn't stand having it written like it was. I hope you'll continue to stick with me :))