Chapter One – A New Life As Shimewari Miyuna

The memories of my old life were vague. Like over-stretched noodles, and when you attempt to grab them, they snap and disappear behind a mountain of fog. They were so close, yet never within my grasp. But I knew so clearly, so certain of it that I had another life before this one. A life where my name wasn't Shimewari Miyuna. So what happened? How did I end up here in this strange world?

XXX

I spent my first months at the mercy of my new parents. I always thought that babies had it easy – boy was I wrong about those spoiled, lazy bums. Bottom line: being a baby is boring business. I wake up when I hear my mom shuffling into my nursery, give her a quick slobbery smile, think about my predicament, attempt to gain some speech and movement, fail at doing so, then sleep. And repeat. And repeat. I could only eat if my parents feed me. I could only move if my parents move me. And, I suffered the feeling of a poopy diaper until my parents came in and changed my diaper. Babies have it tough, I'm telling you.

Despite all that, I rarely ever cried, never felt the need to really. The few times I did were when I was dying of hunger or needed a diaper change and they were late. When I did cry, a woman came running into my nursery to answer whatever need I had without fail. I came to recognize her as my mother. And I felt very attached to her. She was beautiful – long, auburn hair, golden sunny eyes, and defined facial features. She fed me always with a bright smile and silly whoosh noises. She hummed to me when I couldn't fall asleep. She played with me and read to me whenever she could.

My father, on the other-hand, had yet to make an impression on me. He was largely absent from my sight, making me believe he was non-existent. It wasn't until months later that I finally discovered, much to my delight, I had a father – a handsome one for the record. Gentle dark eyes matched his long dark locks; he was dreamy. His hair is most often perfectly waved as a result of the messy man-bun he kept during the day. His face was sculpted and framed by his sharply defined eyebrows. And the stubble below his chin makes him seem more intimidating and older than he really is. Did I already mention he's handsome?

On top of all his dreaminess, he was an extremely busy man, disappearing before I wake up in the morning and coming home late after I had already gone to sleep. But sometimes I feel his warm presence looming over my crib and his cool hands smoothing the little wisps of hair on top of my head as I slept. Or him whispering softly as he flutters kisses on my forehead, "Watashi wa subete ga ima daijōbudearu koto o ureshīdesu. (I'm so glad that everything is okay now.)"

I didn't understand his words at the time. As a matter of fact, I couldn't understand any words that were spoken to me at that time. They were jumbled and foreign, and when I attempted to replicate the same sounds on my tongue they felt even stranger. It was frustrating. And if this didn't serve as a constant reminder of the predicament I was in; I didn't know what did. This was the reality I was living in: I would have to go on as Shimewari Miyuna – with the fact that I am actually much older than what my current body is. The fact that I am not Shimewari Miyuna but was someone else before. The fact that I was bloody reincarnated.

It wasn't until I was around two years old that I came to realize the full scale of the predicament I was in. I was reluctant to accept my reincarnation, but it was the truth. This was my reality and nothing was going to change it. I had two loving parents, albeit one of them I rarely see, and I should be thankful I'm still a human and not some animal on a farm about to be killed for meat or something.

But, something was very wrong in this world. And I was about to find out in a few days that I should've wished I was an animal on a farm about to be killed for meat. Because at least then I knew when I would die and it'd be quick. Besides I would be reincarnated again perhaps in a better situation – actually dying in peace would be nice too though.

I first got the hint when my father suddenly appeared in my nursery one night. I mean appeared as in basically teleported with some sort of magic poof. I had woken up to the sounds of him entering the house late one night and he was conversing with my mother in the kitchen. Unable to fall back asleep, I decided to eavesdrop. Though I could only understand snippets of the words in their conversation, I found listening to their voices strangely comforting.

But as soon as I shifted slightly in my bed to hear a bit better, he suddenly appeared with a poof, looming over my crib. I glanced behind him at the still closed door of my nursery, adding more to my bewilderment of how he managed to get in without me noticing. Did he climb through a window?

He gave me what sounded like a scolding for not sleeping to which I was rather annoyed about. I wasn't doing anything other than listening into their conversation (which I couldn't understand most of anyways) and I wasn't making much noise. The fact that he knew I was awake made me more confused, perhaps my parents have a hidden baby monitor somewhere in my room. But still, how had he appeared in my room?

A few days after that incident, both my parents began to leave me behind with a babysitter as they went to work for the day. Nothing too new, I suppose, as it was common even back in my old world. Though instead of receiving the teenage girl I expected as my babysitter, I got three pre-teens and one older male at around 19 years old. That's when it happened. That's when I realized just what kind of world I landed myself into. And it was definitely going to contribute to an early death. Again.

XXX

"You are so adorable!" The girl pre-teen cooed at me to which I glared slightly at in response. As she continued gushing at me, I noticed her two male companions were grouching in the corner of our house. Something about stupid babysitting missions were hissed through their teeth. The older male, who seemed to be the overseer of some sort of the group of pre-teens, was reading one of Asahi's books off the shelf in the living room. Were these pre-teens some group of bad mouthed delinquents and babysitting me is some type of new rehabilitation? Or maybe that tall man was the delinquent and looking after kids was his rehabilitation? He kind of looked like some thug with that long metal stick in between his teeth.

The girl started talking to me again. "What do you want to do, Miyuna-chan?" I shot her an annoyed look which she didn't seem to pick up on.

Nothing.

"Oh, I know. How about I show you my awesome jutsu outside!" One of the boys in the corner of our living room suddenly jumped to his feet, exclaiming.

He had an overly excited and idiotic face that made me a bit scared, especially when he plucked me off our living room floor in a mad dash out of our apartment complex. I clung to him tightly like a koala in fear of being dropped. I would've glared and screeched at him. But I contained myself. Screaming would get me nowhere other than more fuss from my "babysitters." The black haired boy set me down gently, to my relief, and started exclaiming about this jutsu to me again.

"Watch closely, Miyuna-chan!"

Alright, alright I'm watching, you brat.

I was honestly expecting some cheap circus trick and so I feigned interest – playing the innocent child.

That's when everything came crashing down on me. He did not perform some cheap circus trick. He spewed water from his mouth like some fountain display and then multiplied himself tenfold. Shinobi, they had bellowed before. I had blew everything off before. And now I was going to pay for my ignorance. These pre-teens were not delinquents. They were killers, trained from birth.

What have I gotten my poor self into?