That's Karma, Daph.

Daphne, a snotty American teenager, doesn't think that the world is going to end. But on December 21, 2012, she finds herself in her sister's favorite anime, Naruto. There are several problems, and not having her cell phone doesn't even scratch the surface. She doesn't speak any Japanese! Karma's a pain in the butt, but at least her annoying sister tagged along.

Author's Note: Hello, and welcome to what happens when I become more and more frustrated with the lack of realistic self-inserts, and the hundreds of problems that go along with them. I can't really claim that this will be completely realistic and wonderful, but that's what I'm aiming for. So, to help me out, go ahead and point out anything and everything that is wrong, off, or just doesn't fit in; I'm always looking for ways to improve my writing. As a slight warning, there will be no romantic pairings. At all. So don't ask about it, because you probably won't get an answer. This is rated T because I'm going to be writing the dialogue and narration as I would say it, meaning that, at times, it may appear that a dirty-mouthed sailor has taken over my laptop. Fear not.

I also don't mean to insult anyone with my views on December 21th, 2012, but I want to reiterate that these are my views, and that I'm not trying to convince anyone that I am right.

Enjoy the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or any of the characters. I do own the three Original Characters you will come across, though, and the scenarios I'm throwing them into.

01 – December 20, 2012

I'm not superstitious or religious.

Well, in clearer terms, I'm not an idiot. December 21th is just another Thursday, five days before Christmas and a week after my sister's birthday. That's it. But for some reason, my mother seems to think otherwise. She thinks that tomorrow we're going to die.

Why? Certainly not because some scientist or anyone who knows their ass from their hand predicted it. I don't really know what makes her think that today is the last possible day that we can be together as a family, and I don't really feel like asking and getting a lecture about how some guys, thousands of years ago ran out of space to write their calendar and how that somehow predicts our mysterious death. Like I said, I'm not an idiot. I know when to leave a can of worms unopened.

I also can't believe that on "our last day on Earth" we're being kept prisoner in the house.

"Honey, I would appreciate it if you would stop that. I know-"

"And I would appreciate it if I could leave!" I turned to the side and kicked my legs out so they could hang over the side of the couch and my glare turned to the wall instead, with my back pointedly to my mom. Despite my remark, I stopped tapping my fingers against the phone in my pocket and focused my irritation on the wall in front of me. I've always hated that olive green color, anyway. It looked a little too much like puke.

Mom let out a long, slow sigh and closed her eyes. She ran her fingers through her short, black hair and turned her head away, all signs that I was pulling at her final nerves. If I could just push her a little more (but not too much) she would snap and let me go, just so that she could think without seeing a tunnel of red.

Ol' predictable finished fuming quietly and turned to my sister, who was kneeling by the coffee table and hunched over a few books. The jacket that she always wore was thrown over the corner of the table and her sleeves were rolled up, and mom still wouldn't turn down the thermostat.

"How's it coming along, Pen?" she asked in a voice that was so forced it sounded shaky. Penelope let mom stroke her hair, even though we both hate it when she does that. She smoothed out her dark hair when mom was done messing it up, but smiled that awkward smile that showed too much teeth.

"Good."

"Tell me again," mom slowly drew in breath the moment I opened my mouth, "why our homework needs to be done? My math teacher is most definitely not going to show up in heaven, so I won't be turning in my homework on Monday." I let the math book that had been sitting in my lap slide to the ground in a heap of dog-eared pages. My mom gave me a sharp look. "Because he's a Buddhist! Or whatever religion it is that believes he'll come back as a fucking butterfly," I added under my breath.

"Who said you're going to heaven, anyway?" Penelope asked with a snarky smile, lifting her head from her books long enough to see my head snap in her direction before she shrank back down to appear as innocent as possible. I knew that trick and it was not going to work this time.

"What was that you little snot?"

"Daphne, quiet." Of course, I should have predicted this as well. No matter how many times it happens, it never gets any less infuriating. My mouth opened before I knew it to counter my mother, who would forever come to the aid of my annoying little sister.

"'Quiet'? I was asking a question and she insults me, and I'm the one who needs to be quiet?" Okay, my volume may have been a bit of an issue, but that thought disappeared when mom gave me that look. The 'you know you're not right, so be quiet' look where her normally soft blue eyes became so condescending it was infuriating. Her frown deepened, and the face that was once thin, fragile, and delicate looked on the edge of emaciated and miserable.

"You know-"

"No. You know what? I don't know. Please, enlighten me." I let myself fall back on the couch so that I was laying across the sofa and could tilt my head up to look at her. "She insults me, and that's all fine, but the second I insult her with a stupid name I'm scolded like a five-year-old?" Mom opened her mouth. "Actually, I might know. It has something to do with her being a fucking suck-up, doesn't it? She can insult me as much as she likes as long as she's multitasking with her homework or playing the piano while she's at it. Isn't that right? She can say whatever she wants as long as she's practicing D Minor? What a great message you're sending her."

This time, it was Penelope who spoke. I didn't understand it, of course, I didn't speak any Japanese. But I knew that look on her face. It was the 'haha, I'm getting away with this and there's nothing you can do to stop me' look.

"What the fuck did you say, pipsqu-?"

"Daphne-"

I was close. The nostril was flaring and her eyes were narrowing, giving her sharp features a hawk-like appearance, but she wasn't to the point where she would give up and let me go.

"Don't "Daphne" me! If she wants to insult me behind your back that's fine but she needs to man up and say it to my face."

"Daphne, stop. Penelope, don't insult your sister-"

"I wasn't!" Penelope's long hair flew around her shoulders as she turned to my mom, looking about as outraged as I was. I felt a fraction of a bit better.

"Be quiet. Everyone. Both of you. Shut up." That was about as close to swearing as mom would get. She stood up so sharply that the recliner rocked back dangerously close to the wall and I had to pull myself up to see over the back of the couch as she stormed through the arching doorway that lead to the kitchen.

I swung my feet awkwardly, kicking the wall and turning to glance at Pen who was back to doing her homework.

"Do you think she's really mad?" She finally asked, her eyes never leaving her book as she flipped a page.

I felt the buzz of my cell phone in my pocket and my left hand drew it out automatically and flipped it open.

"I don't know," I muttered noncommittally, clicking a few buttons that would bring up the message sent by my friend. "No way!" I flew up into a sitting position and stared at the screen in my hands.

Pen looked alarmed. "What?"

"Beth was just dumped. By that asshole Jacob!" I screeched, my thumbs already flying across the screen, promising to come over as soon as possible to comfort her through her hard times. If she had just listened to absolutely everyone who had told her not to trust Jacob, she wouldn't be in the hysterical mess that the text said she was in, but no. Beth needed to 'follow her heart' and tail the football player like a lovesick puppy. It didn't really matter, though. Beth was in hysterics, and where was I? Not by her side, obviously, but I would be soon.

"Oh." Penelope turned her attention back to her books, looking as nerdy as ever when she slid her glasses up her nose.

Mom walked back into the living room and set a glass of water on the coffee table. The recliner squeaked when she sat down, but I refused to look at her and stared at the screen on my phone long after the message had been sent.

"Please put that away." My mother's voice was immediately ignored when the sound of a chirping bird signaled a reply from Beth. I opened the message and sent a quick reply, staring at the screen again once it was sent. "Daphne, did you hear me?"

Another chirp, and I was sending another message.

"Daphne. Phone. Off. Now."

"Beth was just dumped," I countered, opening up a note pad app so that I could continue to type and look as if I was texting. It was another way to push mom's buttons, and if the deep breath she had just taken was any indicator, it was working like a charm.

'This is boring as shit.' I typed. 'Why couldn't they have predicted we would die today? Then we could just get it over with. Hell, here we come.'

"Daphne, give me the phone." My mother's hand reached out and I could see it in my peripheral vision. I lowered the phone so that it was hovering over my stomach and well out of her reach. I sat my phone down for a moment, only long enough to adjust the tank top I was wearing to get some air flow through my clothes to avoid sweating, and picked it right back up.

The sound of a chirping bird came again, and I smiled at Beth's reply; Can you sneak around the warden? The warden was a pretty common name for my mother, whose hand reached out a little further and shook, motioning for me to hand it over.

"I thought you always taught me to value friendship." I kept my tone light, only because I knew it would irritate her even more. "Part of friendship is consoling a friend when they're in pain, right?"

'It's damn warm enough to be hell in here. My own living room is hell…why is that not so hard to believe? The she-devil is sitting next to me-' Mom's hand reached a little further made a quick grab for the phone. '-reaching for the phone.'

"You can 'console your friend' tomorrow."

I lowered the phone so that it was over my legs – well out of her reach – and tilted my head to send her a cheeky smile. "So, we're not going to die tonight? Why can't I go and see her if we'll be able to have some of this wonderful family time tomorrow?"

That was it. She stood up quickly and the recliner smashed into the wall behind her. She didn't flinch like Pen did, though, and pointed to the door.

She opened her mouth, but I leaped off the couch and darted from the room before I could hear what she had to say. I had gotten my cue to leave, and sprinted up the steps to grab my jacket and shoes, and sent Beth a text as quick as lightening on my way back down.

"Bye. Love you. See you tomorrow." I emphasized the last part and only received a faint reply from Pen before I was too far away to hear them.

I slipped the phone in my pocket, threw my jacket on, and slipped on my shoes at the door. I made sure to slam it harder than necessary before punching the air in victory. It was getting easier and easier to manipulate Ol' Predictable. I did a few skips to the edge of the porch and took the stairs two at a time, ready to race down the street to subtly tell Beth that she should have listened to me all along.