1. Edited 27 April 2020. First posted sometime in 2015.

Hello! Welcome to Chains. I'm Kayo, and thanks for dropping by. Most of my readers know that I keep longer ANs at the bottom. Still, I hope that the refreshing of the chapters will make the story more enjoyable.

Where this premise came from, was how all the SI stories feature a Self/OC who knows the future. But, what if they didn't? What I've done here, is placed a 20ish year old into a 6-year-old Sakura. No sudden superpowers, and metaphysical chains which will both help and hinder. Help, I should hope! Add in a Hippocratic Oath sort-of, and a mind that's overly critical, viola. 'Yuurei' her original name, means Ghost, and the meaning is quite self-evident in how she is fading, from even herself.

Yuurei had no last name, they couldn't remember it if they ever had one. They did remember other things though. They remembered a life before this.

A life before where she had black hair and black eyes. A life in which she had been a doctor.

I do hereby swear to act only in the interests of preserving lives and to devote myself to the pursuit of knowledge only to save. I swear to never aim to bring death, only life.

So swear I.

She can also remember wearing hospital blue-green scrubs. She remembers people saved under her knife, and also the few she couldn't. Grieve, she did, but let it hold her back, she did not.

It spurred her on, actually, the fragility of life made her want to protect it more. That was why she went into Medicine in the first place.

Her original parents supposedly died in a car crash, and she grew up alone. She didn't want anyone else to go through what she went through, so she went on into general surgery.

Everything is fading, faces, names, places. The only thing that remains is her techniques and expertise. But even that too, disappearing slowly. You can't stall that when you're in the middle of nothingness, questioning if you do or do not exist.

But then again, what really is 'existence'? Descartes once said that consciousness is because you think. "I think, therefore I am," the poster boy for motivational quotes of the century – though the reality is harsher.

"You are not what you think you are, nor what you necessarily want to be. You eventually become what you think the world wants from you."

So perhaps it was good that they had some time in that nothingness to re-develop their sense of self.

Yuurei, within and without, a ghost in the darkness. Formerly a medical professional, now a wraith in blankness.

Something that was cheerfully ironic of the entire situation was that one day, she woke up somewhere else. Vaguely, she remembers something about dying. She presses a palm to her chest, and she feels the steady beat of her heart.

Or maybe she doesn't. We think and therefore are, so the memory of that death is whatever she makes of it, right?

Her body knows this place well, and she finds herself in front of an old dresser, staring into the mirror. The knowledge at her fingertips that she is female, for example.

The face is foreign, and she only knew it was her because it blinked with her.

And now a hand raises itself to her hair. Locomotive skills, checked. Perfectly in sync, no lag time – so not an augmented reality system with the imported soul data?

What a metaphysical theory. They were a doctor, not an experimental physicist, but perhaps they volunteered their data at some point in time.

Her pink hair brings her back and she wonders first if it's natural since that's first and foremost amazing, and a clear genetic deviation.

Detachedly, she analyses her situation. Pink hair, green eyes, orphan, possibly broke, too young to be in school. She's small.

The first course of action would be to find out who she is. Ah, but wait, where she is, and more crucially, money.

Her legs move on their own, and they tap on a loose floorboard. Her knees bend, and her fingers prise open the compartment.

She has no idea how the currency works now, but the total amount is about 23 000 ryo. Rapid calculations of the coins strung up into necklaces of the Mayans, a hundred bronze on a tassel and then plates of silvery metal.

Considering the smallest coin denomination is 10 ryo, she would, just to be safe, that it was equal to 10 'future' yen.

23 k yen was not a lot. It would barely pay for rent in her previous life. But time and inflation are all relative to the availability of goods. So perhaps she will be alright. After all, a child having a room of their own reflects a stable state of income, would it not?

So the next thing to check and her body it moves, fluid like a morning ritual. Changing upon waking is not something they would have done a long relative time ago.

Her cupboard has nothing but pants and dresses. She has no spare money, so she'll live with it, for now.

Money…

She takes a quick, cold shower, not wishing to incur excessive bills of any kind. Her hair is still damp, but she ties it back. The water darkens their light pink hair into redness – not too different from what would be normal. Ah, but the new normal.

She steps out into the road cautiously, having come down the steps to a nicely cleaned apartment, and immediately, people turn.

Whispers begin, and she somewhat understands her situation. In the middle of that big road, she feels lost, and small. Only when a lady breaks away from the crowd, and she notes her black hair and black eyes, she begins to re-think the situation.

She looks at the child next to the lady and feels the faint stirrings of envy. He looks happy, loved.

"Sakura-san?" So my name is Sakura. Maybe she's lucky they share the language, for that would have been a much more difficult endeavour to attempt.

"Yes?"

"I am sorry for your loss. The Uchiha clan will always be open to you."

Uchiha. A clan. So where is mine? She bows lightly, "Thank you, Uchiha-sama."

"Mikoto is fine. I knew your parents. They were good people who didn't deserve the unkind turn fate dealt them."

'Sakura' bows again. "I'm Sasuke! Come play with me some time, okay?"

She hasn't the heart to deny the chipper child but knows that the 'some time' will be quite far from now. His fluffy hair is ingrained within her mind, and she feels something heavy on her back.

"I will. Sometime. I must go now."

She can't hear herself that well, but it must sound very much like the young, already hurt child this body is. Children do not understand many things, but she cannot fault them for those things. After all, children are precious and deserve to be protected. She moves on.

Walking down the street, towards the sign which says it's the Grocer's, the sad eyes and condolences follow.

"Pity that it happened…"

"…Always here to help…"

"Bandits attacked the caravan…"

"Fine merchants…"

"…wish you well…"

"If you have any questions, Lord Hokage is waiting…"

Air-conditioning blasts her as she steps through the door of the supermarket. The world is similar. The titles are a little more feudal, as is the currency, but there seem to be the usual things – cotton clothes, non-regional produce, trade.

She does not pick up a basket, she is not here to buy anything, only observe and regain her bearings. After all, she has hit the ground running. There is time later to think of why she is here. It's not a good question to ask – since there's no clear answer.

After all, what do people live for?

A loaf of bread is 30 ryo, a packet of 6 instant noodles is 50 ryo. Bottled water is 15 ryo, and any 6 fruits are 60 ryo. Turns out 23 000 ryo is quite a bit, which is a good thing. Money frees up time to think, removing the financial pressure of the present.

That is, after all, a perpetual capitalist problem.

Now, if she could find the Hokage person, who seemed to be a leader of some sort, she would find some answers.

Directions from helpful passers-by land her at the base of a huge tower. She recognises the word 'Fire' on the building.

The receptionist gives her the same pitying look, but tells her to go straight up, because, "Lord Hokage was waiting for her." Which is an interesting thought. Either death is not common and the village is small, or her parents were important.

The second technological deviation. In this world, she finds that there are no lifts or escalators, and she finds herself climbing the stairs. One would think this tradition, but it is in poor taste if a public administration doesn't care about those who will need the most physical aid to make this climb.

It's a spiral one, and it seems endless. When she looks up, the light blinds her, yet when she looks down, there's no end to the darkness.

Whatever it is, her child body of probably 4, 5 years of age is unused to climbing so many flights.

The funny thing is that no one uses the stairs. Despite how full the building feels, there's no one using the stairs. It's no rush hour, but the walls hold the sounds of hundreds of people.

Yet in the rotunda, it's just Sakura, struggling upwards.

Then, all of a sudden, a huge flood of children come rushing out of a door, tearing down stairs.

Children..?

After the crowd of children older than herself rush past, Sakura notes a blond looking sadly at the disappearing backs.

She approaches him, out of curiosity, and out of necessity. "Hi, could I ask, where is the Hokage's office?"

His eyes snap to her, and she is struck by the brightest, bluest eyes she had ever seen. He grips her hand in his, and drags her upstairs, shooting off like a bullet, "I'll bring you to see Jiji!"

Jiji? What luck, to have run into the grandson of the village head on her first day alive. If she forgets too much, she might have thought Yuurei saved a kingdom in their past life.

"Though, why are you looking for Jiji? He's just a boring old geezer, but he brings me out for ramen! He's also nice to me and takes care of my apartment!"

The stairs blur, and she struggles to keep up.

"Oh and you have pink hair and green eyes! Wow that's so cool! Are they real?" They grind to a stop outside a grand looking door, and the blond scrutinises her face.

She blinks once or twice, before nodding, though frankly, she isn't sure.

He rubs the back of his head, grinning, "You're super pretty! I'm Uzumaki Naruto, and I'm gonna be the next Hokage! Who are you?"

She smiles, quite bewildered at this hyperactive and sunny Maelstrom. "It's nice to meet you, Uzumaki-san. I'm Sakura."

He grins again, shoving the door open and holding it for her, "Call me Naruto, Sakura-chan!"

She dips her head in assent, not that the boy sees it, entering after him.

"How was school today, Naruto-kun? And who is this, did you make a friend?"

Hokage-jiji. Tobacco tin in the corner, so he smokes. Piles of paper, detests paperwork.

Kind towards Naruto, whom apparently others don't like, knows something about Naruto that Naruto doesn't know. Maybe they are overthinking this, but is it anywhere where a social dynamic allows for the heir to a political throne to be unpopular?

Knows something other people know but Naruto doesn't know.

Really old, possibly forced out of retirement. It's caustic, mean, but true. And honestly, it's interesting to think too much and extrapolate.

Naruto is chattering the Hokage's ear off, and the Hokage is content to just listen. He's a patient man, which is something that can be taken advantage of. I don't mind it, naturally roaming about his office, making myself as scarce as possible.

There are four portraits hung around the room.

Brown hair, black eyes, red armour, Shodaime Hokage, Hashirama Senju.

White hair, black eyes, blue armour, Niidaime Hokage, Tobirama Senju.

Senju…

Hm, so is the Hokage position hereditary? Or maybe it is nepotism. What olden day, samurai-esque armour they are wearing.

Is that why Naruto is sure he's the next one? Because his grandfather is the current one?

White hair, black eyes, no armour, Sandaime Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen. A peace-time leader? Sarutobi? A change of lineage. Did the Senju die out, during a war?

Why is the current Hokage the third then? Especially since there's a fourth one.

Yellow hair, blue eyes, green jacket, Yondaime Hokage, Namikaze Minato.

Naruto looks a lot like him, but the names are different. Maybe here they take on the names of their mother, which would explain why the last names change. His mother would be an Uzumaki then.

This is all assuming the Hokage position is passed down from one generation to another. I'll have to read up on history.

"Sakura-san?" The wizened old man calls for me, catching my attention. He shoos Naruto out, saying we're going to be talking about 'boring stuff', and true to his word, he becomes all business once the door closes behind Naruto.

The room seems to pause, and then…pulse. Only after, does his expression morph into a kind smile directed at me. A peacetime leader indeed.

"I am sorry for your loss, Sakura-san."

I meet his gaze unflinching; his words mean nothing. They cannot, since I know nothing. And they too, know nothing. Which is an odd situation where information asymmetry leads to a warped transaction.

"Were their bodies reclaimed?"

He shakes his head, "By the time out back up team got there, the entire caravan was ash. The bandits were no mere bandits, they were ninjas, and strong ones at that. There were 2 genin teams with your parents."

"Then I too, am sorry for your loss." 2 genin teams.

He lights his pipe, puffing. I was right.

"2 jonin, 6 genin. Now, of the original 4 teams who graduated, 2 are left."

2 High-nin, 6 Low-nin. Then there would be a rank called Mid-nin. Ninja. Interesting. So definitely a feudal state with ninjas instead of samurai.

"What happens now, then? Who is running their business in their absence? What has happened to my parents' wills and assets? Will I be emancipated?"

His eyes show his evident surprise. Is it the vagueness of my question? Or is it that my guess is wrong and that they were not civilians?

"We have a proxy running it in the name of the state. Your parents' had no existing will, but it is understood that everything goes to you, Sakura-san. Their assets, be it property or monies have all been frozen. No one, not even I can touch them, except you, when you reach your majority."

That means no emancipation in this life too.

Being bogged down by the state again. Tsk.

"Majority would mean when?"

"Either 18 years, or the day you become a ninja." "Will I be forced to kill people?" a careful question, since people have already died before the beginning of our negotiation.

His eyes widen in shock, but he takes his pipe out of his mouth, before looking at me seriously, "You may need to, but only those who accept Assassination missions will be specifically killing."

Acceptable. The loss of that freedom in exchange for that power.

"Then how do I sign up? I think I should like to be a ninja."

He searches in his drawers, pulling out a few forms from various places, tidying the stack, then handing it to me.

"Fill up the forms and submit them to the lady at the desk. If you sign up by this week, you can begin classes by the next. You're 6, aren't you?" He wasn't expecting me to want to become a ninja.

"I guess so. I'm not sure. I can't remember my surname, I can't remember my birthday, I can't remember where we lived. I can't remember what mother and father looked like, I can't remember anything." For the first time, honesty unexplained.

A kind of disclosure that can go both ways, but if Naruto trusts this man, I suppose I cannot go too wrong trusting him with this. The innocence of youth.

A folder is pushed towards me, and his eyes are pitying. He must believe it to be shock and trauma because of my 'parents' death.

"Haruno Sakura, born to Kizashi and Mebuki Haruno on the… 28 of March." There's a slight pause before he says my date of birth.

"What day is it today, and which day did my parents die?" Sarutobi-sama's face is quite grim, and he says it quietly.

"It's the first of April, and your parents passed on your birthday. My apologies."

I close my eyes momentarily. There are tears building there – the emotional response but logically there is no 'right' for me to cry. Since I don't know them.

The man reaches out, at some point in my loss of composure he had left his chair to kneel beside me, and he gently pats my head.

I felt another weight on my back, but I just look at him and smile a tiny smile. It's alright to cry. A thought like that conveyed through touch, which is a humanising thing.

Swallowing, I control my voice. There's a little shake to it, and in reply that kindness in the old village leader's eyes. It shakes our heart. "May I know who my proxy is, then? I really should get things in order…"

"I will arrange for a meeting. Please come here tomorrow at 10 in the morning." I dip my head in thanks, and he excuses me.

Upon getting home, she closes the door behind her and locks it. Is she locking others out, or herself in? What a world they live in where people live and die by the sword? Perhaps ninjas do not use swords.

She stands sideways to the mirror and catches sight of a chain. A blue stream from her back, a curious thing that is as bizarre as her re-existence issue. Nevertheless, it is something she can accept as the new normal.

And if thinking of it summoned it, it lengthens and Sakura can grip it in her hand, her fingers tracing what is cold but warm, metallic and yet organic. An interesting study. But she is too tired to experiment for now.

She only needs to look closely to make a discovery that makes no sense at all. Words are engraved onto certain links.

Uchiha, Mikoto; Uchiha, Sasuke; Uzumaki, Naruto; Sarutobi, Hiruzen. A name a chain, and how odd it all already is. Things then will only ever get more complicated.

When she stops thinking, the chain retracts, and there are four streams passively hanging there. They are a weight, maybe a hindrance, not quite a burden, but how did that translate into those names? They were acquaintances, and their well-being meant something to her.

They were in a sense her largest burdens, but her greatest strengths. Friendship as a burden – but burdens not holding their negative connotation. Rethinking the consciousness problem.

She thought and thought some more.

Life. Death. How fickle you are.

And promptly, a white chain and a black chain sprouted from her back, but she felt no pain, only their weight.

Was life white and death black? How cliché.

Wherever she was, responsibility would haunt her, just that this time, she was literally being weighed down by chains. She will live again.

Haruno, Sakura.

Again, thanks for reading! If you felt it was good, do leave a review. I'm quite proud to say that across these five years, I've replied to every single review left here, and through it, got to meet people across the world.

Now in the middle of semi-quarantine in my homeland, I have the time to truly re-visit my old chapters (and I'm super embarrassed by the little typos I've never caught or had time to change).

If you're a past reader come back, I'm glad! There will be many little changes along the way, but I don't expect to be hard rewriting the chapters from the Wave Arc onwards.

The chapter I've wanted to change for the longest time is this one, and that's done! So if you remember the past version – honestly, not much content has changed. Only Sakura's characterisation will shift a little.

There's no need to re-read them (and I'll say this in my next chapter update,) because my plot arcs and development will be the same, but please do to erase the memory of the choppiness of my earliest writing!

Yours,

Kayo.