A/N: For me, this is a highly experimental piece of writing. I wanted to try my hand at writing in 1st person (aka getting used to messing with the present and past tense), and I figured the best way to start out would be by doing a self-insert. Plus, I wanted to write a Naruto story.

Misadventures of an Unwilling Soldier

Prologue

She was known for her decisiveness.

They didn't know she knew how much grief one could get from being a pushover.

She was acknowledged for her use of seals.

They didn't know she needed to keep her kanji handwriting skills in shape.

She was infamous for taking prisoners.

They didn't know she did it because she didn't have the stomach to kill.

She was hailed as a prodigy.

They didn't know she had an extra nineteen years of a different life.

Going (six feet) Under and Being Re…what!?

The last thing I remember before closing my eyes is breathing in a sickly sweet smell that put me under for a brain surgery.

Next thing, I'm crying because that's the only way I can breathe.

The head surgeon warned me to expect disorientation, loss of speech, and paralysis of my right-side after the surgery, fully recoverable via rehabilitation so my poor confused neurons could find new pathways since their original pathways had been removed. Well, they did warn me, so I was prepared for the disorientation.

I did not expect a blinding headache.

I did not expect to suddenly find breathing so difficult that I had to cry at the top of my lungs in order to access precious oxygen.

I did not expect to have my whole body be swathed up and rocked back and forth, even though it did give me a little comfort. Wasn't I supposed to be lying still on a hospital bed?

I did not expect to open my eyes and see a red-haired man looking down at me, eyes full of wonder.

I did not expect to hear Japanese being spoken. My family was Korean. I had learnt Japanese in middle school, and while I was stiltedly conversational, I had never attained fluency. I could not watch Japanese movies without subtitles. Still, I knew enough to understand what the man said.

"Hello my beautiful daughter. My green princess."

God have mercy, what was going on?

…

Between dealing with stabbing headaches and napping, I pieced together an outrageous theory, but a theory nonetheless.

The supposedly simple, procedural, brain surgery had gone wrong, and I was in an induced coma, and dreaming, which was unlikely, since comas had no sleep cycles.

That or I had died. And been reborn. Into a Japanese family. I'd never see my original family again. That took some time for me to get over. I'd never said good-bye to my friends. I'd never said good-bye to my sister, who was my best friend for all our nine-year gap.

Either way, that neurosurgeon better get sued for malpractice and incompetence. The possibility of dying from the procedure I was going through was nigh impossible for any neurosurgeon who had gotten a medical license.

After accepting that I was either delirious or reincarnated, I grieved for my loss by crying my eyes out. Hey, I was a baby. Crying was acceptable behavior for a baby.

Speaking of babies…being a baby, there are pros and cons, the cons being rather more obvious to my nineteen-year-old mind.

My sense of time was skewed, as my sleeping patterns were off as well. I slept approximately twenty times since I was reborn, but had no idea how many days had passed.

My head was heavy. Heavy as in, to the point that I couldn't lift it. It was one thing to know that babies' heads were big in relation to their bodies, but quite another to experience it while being conscious of it. I also got headaches. Which I highly doubted was normal.

But however many days over which I slept twenty times was not all ill-spent. Between sleeping, nursing, and…other bodily functions…I learned that what I first thought was 'Green' was simply my supposed name, 'Midori'. Well, not an uncommon name for Japanese girls. I knew this because of a famous violinist named Midori that I'd been forced to listen to since I was a toddler in my previous life. The 'Princess' part was just a pet name.

My biological father's and mother's names were Akai and Michiru, respectively. Still not quite sure what my surname is, but baby steps. Metaphorically, since I'm not even at that stage of development. My head is still too heavy, and it's hard to keep it in balance whenever I try to push my pitifully weak and vulnerable body up to crawl. It's hard enough to roll over, and whenever I do, my parents undo all my hard work by placing me on my back again. Gah.

I understand why my father is named Akai: his hair looks naturally red, so I guessed that he was named after the color of his hair, as inane as that sounds. I hope my hair isn't green, though Michiru pulls off mint-green hair reasonably well. My bored, sleepy, and headache-y mind concluded that I was probably named after a color in honor of my father, and the first syllable of my name was after my mother.

Anyway, what really hit me though, was that my biological father's uniform looked familiar.

It looked suspiciously like a ninja uniform from a certain manga I'd been reading in my down time. And seeing the red spirals on his back and sleeves…

My brain put two and two together remarkably quickly for one that had headaches ranging from dull ringing to head-splitting.

Oh, hang it all.

So either the whole surgery had gone wrong and I was in a coma that somehow allowed me to dream, or I was really in Konohagakure.

The fictional village of a fictional country of a fictional world in the fictional universe of Naruto.

What the hell.

…

Finally, my stubby and chubby limbs had strengthened enough for me to roll over and crawl. When Michiru-My-Mother saw this, she clapped her hands with joy and saying some Japanese encouragement chant sort of thing mixed with my name…I think. It was at that point I realized I understood less of colloquial Japanese than I thought. But I did understand when she sat down on the floor and held out her arms to me and said, "Come here, Midori-chan. Come to Kaa-chan."

The fact that I understood the simpler phrases my parents said was comforting. In that aspect, I was ahead of other babies, as sad as that may sound. But halfway to Michiru, it occurred to me that at some point I would have to learn kanji. The Japanese version of Chinese characters, but arguably harder in the fact that there were many different ways to read them. Kanji was the reason I gave up Japanese in the first place. I knew several radicals…but what help would those be!? At these thoughts, tears came to my eyes and a whimper escaped my lips, prompting Michiru to come and pick me up, soothing me as she rocked me back and forth, murmuring something about not pushing myself, as she apparently thought my tears to be the result of overexertion.

My first priority was to get control over this tiny, disproportionate body…

…

The next indeterminate length of time, I worked on my motor skills enough to crawl very quickly and walk with support. I took care not to wake Michiru and Akai up by crying whenever I woke up and it was dark outside. In fact, I only cried when the headaches got too much for me to bear, or when I needed a diaper change, because not only was it uncomfortable, but boy, did it smell bad.

And another thing? Teething hurts like hellfire. It's worse than a mosquito bite, because you can't scratch your gums. Well, you can, but it doesn't give even the illusion of alleviating the itch like scratching a mosquito bite would. It aches, and aches, and aches. I gnawed on every gummy thing that I could get my hands on, just for temporary relief. I nearly cried in frustration when my two lower front teeth slowly grew in. How many more of these sensations would I have to endure? I had no idea how many teeth babies had!

I did not realize that my parents were a bit distressed by my display of emotions, or lack thereof, until I had listened to enough Japanese to pick up some more vocabulary and be able to understand and keep up with the speed at which they spoke.

"She doesn't laugh, she doesn't smile…she doesn't even cry that often. I'm worried for Midori. She's so…quiet."

"You think there's something wrong with her?" Akai asked, frowning. "She's just a calm baby."

"I want to take her to get - " They were moving away from the crib, and there were still a lot of words that I didn't understand, but I heard Michiru-My-Mother mention something about a doctor.

Great. They thought something about my development was wrong, all because I was too quiet. Well, I suppose I could throw them a bone and say some words. At least then I could have an excuse to ask some questions.

Later that night, I said my 'first' word. "Kaa?" After all, it was only fair, Michiru-My-Mother was the one who stayed with me during the day.

Michiru was delighted. "Akai!" She called out, excited. "Midori-chan said her first word! I think she was trying for 'kaa-chan'! Come one, Midori, one more time! Ka-a-chan." She enunciated it clearly, so the least I could do was try my best, even with my baby tongue.

"Kaaa-channn." I repeated obediently. Then, just to mess with him, I pointed at Akai and exclaimed, "Aaakaaii!" At his face expression, I giggled.

"No!" He protested. "No, Midori-hime, say, 'tou-chan'." He pointed to himself and said slowly, "To-u-cha-n."

I shook my head. "Akaaiii!"

Michiru broke out into giggles as well. In between giggles, she managed to chide me, "No, Midori-chan. He's your father. Your tou-chan."

Scooping me up into his arms, he said, "Yes, I'm your tou-chan."

I reached out a chubby arm and tugged on his long red hair. "Akaaaai."

Akai gave Michiru a woeful look. "This is your fault, Michiru. You call me by my name too often in front of Midori-hime."

"Well, at least she knows her colors."

I'd better, especially since I remembered hiragana and katakana from my past life. There were educational posters and padding everywhere in the nursery, a color chart being among them. Say what you want about these parents who should be, by all rights, fictional, but they did have my best interests in mind. Akai wasn't around much as he was busy with missions, but when he was, he always checked up on his 'green princess', cooing at me and taking pictures of supposed 'milestones' like when I first stood up. In my previous life, I had been the second child, so it wasn't as much of a novelty. Heck, they hadn't even known my blood-type until right before my surgery, and that was only because I was curious. Come to think of it, what was my blood-type now?

"Are we still taking Midori-hime to the doctor's?"

"Well, she needs a checkup. It's been six months. She's ahead physically, but from what I heard from my friends, Midori-chan's behavior doesn't exactly match up to even the genius in the Uchiha clan my friend mentioned."

Uchiha genius? Which one? Itachi?

But it occurred to me that I only needed to know if I wanted to change the story.

Which I don't, not really.

I wasn't really invested in any Naruto characters besides Naruto. Or Itachi, poor guy. Maybe Neji, but as much as I wished for him to keep his dad if only to save him from the fatalistic mindset, he played a major role in Naruto and Hinata's growth. And Lee's.

How many butterflies would I step on by attempting to change the timeline?

Forget that, I didn't even know exactly where I was in the timeline, besides the fact that it was pre-Uchiha massacre. I would just be an auxiliary character. An extra. Not significant enough to change the storyline.

Though I didn't want to be a civilian. For one thing, Naruto's world had people dying and injured left and right. I needed some protection. Akai bought me a rubber kunai and was probably expecting me to follow his footsteps, for another. Plus, I thought the idea of utilizing chakra was really cool.

I decided right then and there, in my six-months-old body, headache or no, that I would train to be a ninja. Whether I became a ninja after training…well, that would be another matter entirely.

…

The doctor's visit was full of words I didn't understand. My knowledge of medical terminology in English was sketchy at best, so why would I think to learn it in Japanese? But since it was an MRI they were looking at, thanks to my preparation for brain surgery, I knew what a normal brain looked like, even if they hadn't attached an MRI scan of a normal baby's brain next to mine.

There were marked differences, and if I didn't know what 'dainouhishitsu' meant before, I certainly did after the doctor pointed at my cerebral cortex. More specifically, the outer layer of it. Where memories are stored. The outer layer of my cerebral cortex looked swollen in comparison to the normal scan, explaining my constant headache. Should've known nineteen years' worth of memories crammed into a baby's brain wouldn't look pretty or feel pleasant.

I prayed that Michiru-My-Mother wouldn't demand a Yamanaka to search my brain, though truthfully, I rather thought a Yamanaka would think rummaging through a baby's brain a waste of their talents and time. Thankfully, no mentions of the name 'Yamanaka' were made, and Michiru took me home, her confused but relieved face expression telling me mountains more than the few words I could understand had.

While my mother may have been relieved, I was baffled and disturbed, as I finally found out my surname: Uzumaki.

Though that explained Akai's red hair, it certainly mucked things up, because as far as I knew, the only Uzumaki in Konoha were Mito, Kushina, and Naruto. What the heck was Tou-chan doing alive? Not that I minded, because I had grown fond of him over the six months I'd lived as his daughter. But this shook up my knowledge of the storyline.

Was this some alternate timeline? Would everything be different?

My ever-present headache grew stronger, and not for the first time, I wished I possessed the dexterity and strength to massage my temples to alleviate at least some of the pain. Shame my body couldn't handle painkillers yet.

…

My headaches grew so terrible at times Morpheus was the only solace I could find. It hurt to keep my eyes open, or closed for that matter, because it felt like searing-hot needles were stabbing into the back of my eyes. If I hadn't seen the MRI results myself, I would have thought there was something wrong with my brain all over again. As it was, my swollen cerebral cortex was literally a pain in my eyeballs.

Apparently the doctor's suggestion had been to expose me to toddlers my age, though my parents seemed to have a hard time finding any. Why were there so few children? Was it war time? I included the possibility of the Third Shinobi War to the current possible timeline. If I had landed in the Second Shinobi War…I didn't remember anything from that timeline. It wasn't like I memorized the entirety of the Naruto plot.

Michiru-My-Mother had apparently ransacked the village population for toddlers and reached the end of her rope, as one day, I woke up in a large, unfamiliar playpen full of black-haired children of varying ages.

In fact, everybody in sight had black hair, and I had an uncomfortable suspicion about where I was even before I saw the red and white uchiwa crest on the wall.

Perhaps Michiru had gone to meet some friends? Or get groceries? I wonder why she had left me in what seemed like the Uchiha community playpen, and whether it was a last resort or not. I did appreciate the change in scenery, though the change in company was yet to be seen. I already spied a matron who kept a watchful eye on the Uchiha playpen.

Clumsily, I stood up, accruing the attention of several pairs of black eyes.

Hookay. As several Uchiha kids approached me curiously, the playpen felt a great deal smaller than before, despite not having changed size at all. Feeling rather like an animal in a zoo – scratch that, a rabbit among lions – I slowly backed up. Which turned out to be a mistake, since I bumped into something else.

Whirling around with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, I saw another toddler, who looked a bit closer to my current physical age. He was different from the others because of his unruly hair. I had the sense to say with baby-ish pronounciation, "Oops. Sowwy." Before toddling away from the crowding Uchiha kids as fast as I was able, making a bee line for the corner.

The toddler I had bumped into was bigger than I was, and had followed me to the corner. With a toothy smile that revealed his many baby teeth, he chirped, "Hi! I'm Shishi! You?"

"Midori." I said quietly. I had very little intention of getting attached to someone who might get massacred in the future. It was bad enough I was seeing the Uchiha in person as it humanized them, tempting me to change the future. Which would not do.

"Cool! You know you have pwetty eyes? And your hair's cool too!"

I hadn't ever been around reflective surfaces to see what I looked like, much less know what color my eyes and hair were, and it wasn't like a toddler's taste meant much to me, but I scuffed my foot on the rubber tiles at his remark. I had never been good at taking compliments. "Thanks." I cast my mind around for something to compliment Shishi back with. "You're vewy fwendly." G'dangit, it was hell to say things with an intentional lisp. I just hoped I wouldn't cultivate bad habits.

"Yap! 'S what Dad's like too, an' I wanna be like him!" He picked up a rubber kunai and offered it to me. "Wanna play?"

So we sat down and played with toy kunai and rubber shuriken, bouncing them off the walls until Michiru came to take me back.

…

Another time – I had endured the growth of two more milk teeth by then – I woke up to a voice cooing over me and asking for permission to pick me up. My parents gave the green light, and I found myself looking up at what looked like a female version of Akai.

"Hi. Are you Tou-chan's y'nger sister?" Was what I was saying as my mind thought that this must be Kushina, thereby eliminating the possibility of the Second Shinobi War.

"Close. We're cousins. You can call me Kushina-nee-chan!" Kushina turned to my parents and asked, "Does she know what cousins are?"

"Probably not." Akai answered.

Futilely, I attempted to rub my headache away. It must have seemed cute as Kushina giggled and said, "She's so cute! And her hair will make a good camouflage when she becomes a kunoichi."

I froze mid eye-rub. Oh no. My fear was being confirmed. No, there was still a chance that I possessed sandy blonde hair that would blend in perfectly with sand. Though that seemed highly unlikely from my parents' colorings…

"She'll be perfect in the forest-ttebane!"

…My fear was officially confirmed. At the horrific confirmation combined with my perpetual headache, I couldn't help but start wailing. Green hair. Green hair!? While green was my favorite color, especially forest green, it was not my idea of an ideal hair color. Sure, green-streaked hair had sounded cool in middle school, but preschool? Little children were mean. As if it hadn't been enough to made made fun of for being the only Asian with 'funny small eyes' in school when I was a kid in my first life, I'd probably be made fun of for having green hair. What would my nickname be? Broccoli? Bush? Grass? A multitude of inane names ran through my mind as Kushina hastily passed me to Michiru-My-Mother.

The distressing thoughts, however, were offset by the fact I now knew it was before the Kyuubi attack. If it was still going to happen.

Once I calmed down, I asked, "C'n I learn the henge?"

My parents patronizingly explained that I didn't have enough chakra control to be able to handle the transformation technique. I'd have to find some leaves somewhere to practice chakra control. Perhaps I could trick Akai into bringing some back for me.

…

Something was tickling my face and I sneezed myself awake. Enveloped in strong arms that were gently rocking me, I opened my eyes to see familiar red hair brushing against the tip of my nose.

"Nnh? Tou-san?" I murmured sleepily.

"Shh, Midori-hime. There's a good girl." Akai's face looked melancholy. "Tou-chan just wants to see your face."

I mumbled, "You c'n see me if you're home more of'n."

His dark blue eyes saddened, "That's the thing, hime. This time I'll be gone for a long time. Months, at least."

My aching, tired mind didn't register the fact that we were living during the Third Shinobi War. "Promise you'll be back when I start th'Academy? Think I'll start when 'm three…"

Stroking my hair, Akai whispered, "I'll try my best, Midori-hime."

When I heard Michiru crying the next day I concluded Akai got deployed to the frontlines of the war, and realized how uncertain a ninja's life really was. How precious the time I spent with my tou-san was. How much I missed him already.

…

After Akai-tou-san got deployed, Michiru had started wearing a flak jacket, and I figured she must be taking missions within the village. I was spending more and more time at the Uchiha playpen. Apparently Shishi was asking after me, and Kaa-san was either pressured or bribed into leaving me there. It was there I first saw Uchiha Obito, and pegged down another hint for when I was in the Naruto timeline. Before the Kannabi bridge.

"Yo! Uchiha Obito is here!"

The matron whacked him on the head with an uchiwa.

"You'd think that after becoming a Chuunin, you'd be on time!"

I had no idea when Uchiha Obito became a Chuunin, so that little tidbit was of no help.

"Okay, okay. No need to get violent, Emi-oba-san! I'll look over the kids no problem!"

"If any one of them comes to harm - "

"It'll be fine! They'll be fine. Now go before these kids all grow up!"

A few moments after the lady – Emi, apparently – had slid the door closed, all the kids crowded at Obito like a hoard of ants to candy.

"'Bito-nii!"

"Obito-nii-san!"

Soon enough Shishi had joined the crowd, his voice soaring clearly over the others. "'Bitossan!"

Indignant, Obito cried out, "Hey, don't call me that! I'm not an old man."

He lifted Shishi up, much to the protests of the other children as though being lifted up were an honor that came first come first serve.

I couldn't imagine my old self voluntarily entering a playpen with so many kids all by my lonesome. Maybe one or two, as I had entertained my first-cousins once removed when my cousin was busy, but even playing with them tired me out. Entertaining a whole nursery? Madness. Obito must really like children.

"Shisui, for the last time, call me 'nii-san'. 'Ossan' is something you call old men. I'm eleven!"

Two things jumped out at me from this sentence. First of all, Shishi was Shisui!? I'd been bouncing projectile weapons with one of the aborted linchpins of the Uchiha Massacre!?

And Obito was eleven, effectively pinning the current timeline down as roughly two years before Kakashi Gaiden took place.

…things I only needed to know if I were entertaining the idea of changing the timeline.

Nope.

Not happening.

Besides, who would believe the baby who wasn't even a year old yet? Hey, they probably wouldn't believe me even if I were my original age! Screw that, I didn't have the power to change the Kannabi bridge incident.

I didn't even realize tears were welling up in my eyes until Obito's orange goggles were in my face.

He lifted me up gently, cradling me in one arm and wiping my tears with his other hand. "Hey now, why are you crying? What's your name?"

"M-Midori." I sniffled out.

"That's a pretty name. My name is Obito. Now, won't you dry those tears and smile for me, Midori-hime?"

Instead of quelling my tears, Obito's words unintentionally induced more.

Shishi – no, he was Shisui – pointed at Obito and accused, "Ah! You made Midori-chan cry! Bad 'Bitossan!"

Obito looked too panicked to correct Shisui. "What's wrong? Why are you crying even more?"

This wasn't something I'd normally cry over. What had happened to my stoic nineteen year-old mind? Was it being worn away via headache, giving way to a barely one year old psyche? "J-just…Tou-chan calls me Midori-hime. But he's not here."

Through my tears and through orange goggles, I just barely saw Obito's eyes soften. "I get it."

The rest of the time, Obito pays minimal attention to the other children, but pats me comfortingly on the back, every pat weakening my resolve to stay an auxiliary character and keep the integrity of the original timeline.

My resolve was paper-thin when my eyes drifted to a close. The last thought I had before I fell asleep was that I should ask Kaa-san to not leave me at the Uchiha playpen anymore.

A/N: Based upon the scenario of my 19 year-old self's brain-surgery having gone wrong. No Mary-Suing. My faults and flaws will be included. I funneled all my memories of being frustrated with speech and physical therapy into portraying the frustration, impatience, and vulnerability of being stuck in a baby's body.

A/N 2: I will only use Japanese terms for pronouns, titles, and jutsus. I will try to incorporate the meanings in the narrative so you don't have to refer to below.

Just in case:

Midori: Green
Hime: Princess
Akai: Red
Kaa-san: Mom
Tou-san: Dad
Henge: Transformation
Ossan: a rather rude way to address a middle aged man
Nii-san: Older-brother
Gaiden: tale/side-story