In which a former SI from the Narutoverse gets reborn into the KHR universe as Basil and doesn't realize it, is perpetually unimpressed with everything, especially Sawada Iemitsu, and can't escape the curse of being associated with a laughing idiot with the survival instinct of a suicidal lemming and the personality of a particularly obnoxious and tasteless comedian.

I was reborn but not reborn. That phrase might appear a bit incomprehensible, but there's a bloody hitman called Reborn in this world, so I think that I should clarify. Anyway, I was born and abandoned in an orphanage, and sadly, while I still retain my memories from my last two lives, the absence of a Karatachi constitution meant that I was four when I finally remembered that I was once somebody other than well, a generic boy in a generic orphanage in Italy. I regret remembering. Why? Because I was a girl in my first life, and a girl again when I was reborn as Karatachi Ginkanmuri, imuoto of Yagura, Yondaime Mizukage, and even the Sandaime, despite his cruelty, did not mess with my gender identity (though I did crossdress occasionally for missions).

So, I lived a meaningful life being the Kirigakure Government, and then died a decent death. After that, I found myself here, a perfectly normal boy in a perfectly normal world. I had a perfectly decent life planned out: I would study hard, get scholarships and pay my way through medical school, and then do meaningful work as a physician or paramedic. Or be a lawyer, I had time to choose. Then came a thunderstorm.

Now, as I said, I don't have a Karatachi constitution anymore, so I had a child's poor impulse control and emotional discipline, not to mention a tendency to get cranky when I couldn't sleep. The storm meant that one of my roommates started crying, and soon everyone was crying, so I automatically drew on my chakra for a genjutsu. Now you see the problem. I don't have chakra, so theoretically, nothing should happen. Sadly, that was not the case. You see, when I couldn't get chakra, my body activated the next-best thing, and a layer of Matatabi-like bluebell flames spread over the room, edged and pulled into shape by a fine touch of indigo. That … was a problem. You see, I had superpowers, and unlike in my past life, superpowers weren't normal, meaning that I had absolutely no context for why I was turning into Matatabi when if I had any connection to Bijuu, it would be to Isobu, a turtle with mantis shrimp tails, or Saiken, a slug. Oh, and the kids dropped off to sleep, so apparently, genjutsu functioned.

Take note of my situation then: I was an insignificant child in an orphanage, so I wouldn't be missed if I disappeared. I had a healthy suspicion of orphanages from my past life, given that multiple unscrupulous, vague, yet shadowy organizations had a habit of snatching promising kids from orphanages. I didn't want to be snatched and exploited/brainwashed. The solution I came up with? Run away. And yes, I know that I was being ridiculous, but to be fair, I thought that the streets were at least easier to lose pursuers in than an orphanage that could be watched. So, after a few weeks of planning and experimenting with my powers, I ran away.

By then, I had already managed to find out that the indigo flames provided perfectly decent genjutsu and could even be used to henge inanimate objects for indefinite periods of time, and also to cause physical damage. More importantly, unlike with genjutsu, I had feedback when I used them to cast illusions—there was a possibility of using them to actually mind read instead of merely being an accomplished cold reader who could use iryou-ninjutsu to identify brain activity.

On the other hand, the Matatabi was far more complicated. I could use them to cool things down and drain people of energy—some sort of energy/anti-energy reaction, maybe? And while I had yet to test it, I suspected that since there were connections between energy, force, and matter, I could persuade my Matatabi to do something to actual matter, for instance, depleting nuclear forces and causing some sort of fission reaction.

The combination of Matatabi and illusion-powers, as well as my skill as a shinobi meant that I could break into a dwelling while its occupants were asleep, keep them in a deep sleep through Matatabi and then wash and clean afterwards—hygiene issues solved. I didn't mind sleeping on the floor, and I had a negative sense of presence, possibly due to how low-level Matatabi and indigo drained any attention that was directed to me, so I could slip beneath notice and sleep in public places. That said, I decided that I wanted to stay somewhere interesting (but public), so game of tic-tac-toe had me choosing to hide myself in a library.

Those are the events and decisions that brought me to where I am now, in the back of an expensive car driven by a man who introduced himself as Sawada Iemitsu, newly-minted head of Consulenza Esterna Della Famiglia of the Vongola Famiglia—the oldest and most powerful mafia family in the world, with an apprenticeship, a new name, and an ice-cream/gelato cone.

Sawada Iemitsu was not a good man. He wanted. He wanted good things, but he was mafia, and all that it involved. Ends and means. He wanted, but his means were mafia means. He wanted to shield his son and wife, and for that, he payed a price. He doomed two boys instead of one. He knew that if he had children, they would be targeted, if only to prevent succession from being fouled. Yet he was expected to produce an heir, and few would believe that he did not have one, so he took certain measures, measures to keep people from searching for his Tuna-fishy, measures to draw the eye away from Japan.

He made "Casual enquiries".

…..

He scratched his head, played the fool.

"Do you reckon that Ninth will require a Sky for my successor?"

"Why?"

"Ehehehe, it's just that Skies are so rare. Ninth lucked out with his genes, got three—four Sky sons. Massimo might inherit CEDEF, but..."

"Yeah, CEDEF should stay neutral. Just Family and not family, you know what I mean?"

"Hehe." A faux-nervous smile. "Yep."

A fluffy haired boy, with uncanny accuracy when it came to guessing when his father would come back, or what his mother would make for dinner, drawing his kindergarten classmates into orbit about him... he had his heir, if—

"What, Young Lion? You have a cub? Who's the lucky lady?"

He smiled awkwardly, half ashamed and chuckled, "Ehehehe... You see..."

Set them on a to-be-created bastard's trail.

He and a few of the most trusted of his people searched for a boy. No particular requirements, just young and bright—he had clawed his way up the ranks, with no history of achievements to his name, another street rat could do the same.

That was when his intuition had prodded him to go to the library. He went, found a random book to read, and then started nodding off because books were boring! Just like paperwork, they weren't for Young, Roaming Lions, but the old ones that stayed at the den. As he nodded off, he felt the creep of Rain Flames, potent but not properly used into his system. His Flames roared to life, burning away weariness as they twined and cried Mine! The Rain was a little boy hiding behind a bookshelf, inky-fingered and wide-eyed, creepily silent and just so adorably serious.

The boy's features were plain, average, with the generic sort of likeness to his that hundreds of children shared but which could be interpreted as more with just a suggestion or two. The boy was Tsu-kun's age, but with Rain Flames instead of Sky. He would be a red herring―no one would blame the Outside Adviser for passing his son off as a mere foundling―while being trained as his heir. A position which would breed doubt about the potency of his blood: it was weak enough to not produce another Sky (heir to the Vongola). At the cost of this boy's life, in the figurative sense for certain, and if unfortunate, the literal sense as well.

It was easy to coax the boy out from behind the books, then he made his offer.

"I can't promise that this will be the best offer you get, but it most certainly won't be the worst."

"You aren't going to trick me into becoming your sidekick and making me wear tights and help you fight crime, are you?"

Fight crime? Sort of. "No. The job I'm going to offer you won't be that nice. But you'll learn how to use those powers of yours, and know where to use them."

Threats and bribes were in the tip of his tongue. He could color Cosa Nostra Rainbow, lure the boy in with sweets of the worst sort. He could reveal its dark and bloody side, the crawling shadows that you could never escape, and trick the boy into jumping from the frying pan into the fire. The boy had to know, he had to be able to think that he chose this, had chosen with full knowledge of the consequences when he saw reality and tried to escape, so that he would turn back, knowing that he had doomed himself willingly and was honor-bound to continue.

Yet he must not scare the boy away. The boy might not know it, but asset or threat, alive or dead, the boy would serve Vongola. He didn't want to kill the boy to keep him from being snatched by another Famiglia.

Eyes the blue of where sky met sea held his gaze, considering, wary. A casual defusing of tension was on the tip of his tongue, his face ready to break into the smile that was his normal state, his answer to the Mafia's darkness—"Yes."

The boy approached him. He grinned, relief and victory warring with a touch of guilt, his Intuition singing.

"I think I'll call you Basil!"

Basil, the royal herb. Hatred, or Holiness. A portent. Also the name of one of the great saints. And the boy's eyes narrowed as he hissed, "No shouting in the library!"

Basilisk too.

Further negotiations proceeded in the presence of gelato.

My new Shishou is as ridiculously dramatic and stuck in personal tragedy as Nidaime Mizukage-sama, and twice as irritating to boot. He also waffled around and tried to mentally assault me, but given that genjutsu-assisted emotional manipulation was pretty much my former adoptive father's modus operandi, it was just a nice bit of familiarity. Shishou also refrained from trying it again after my mental shields slammed down, so, not going to judge. On the bright side, at least I'm not being brainwashed by the government or any vague, yet menacing organizations yet. Sadly, according to shishou, being his apprentice means that back I've come to shadows and spies, so goodbye, dreams of being a doctor, hello again, wrangling paperwork and murder. I miss my nice, sensible, competent Mizukage already.

Shishou brought me to a base where he was immediately greeted by a furious yell of "IEMITSU!"

A blue-haired toddler stormed out of the door, already letting loose a stream of profanity involving politicians, lawyers, demons, and something to do with spices and inserting them into various orifices. Then she caught sight of me, rounded back on shishou, and yelled, "What were you thinking? Kidnapping a boy?"

Two adults, a man and a woman, both in suits, came out from a corridor. The woman turned to me, "Hello," She said gently, "What's your name?"

"Basil." I replied cheerfully, because as far Kiri went, one shed one's former name when one was named something else by an authority. Also, I could see where this was going, and I was not above making shishou's life difficult when he had just tricked an innocent child into a life of crime.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at Sawada Iemitsu (her boss?). "I see. Do you want to be here?"

I nodded. "Mister Sawada found me in a library and offered me a job. He also told me that he would teach me about my powers. And," I grinned, "He promised that I won't be fighting crime in a leotard!"

There was a silence, and the heretofore silent man groaned, slapping a hand over his face, "Those are some low fucking standards, sir."