Disclaimer: We all know Naruto isn't mine.
Chapter One
This is the story of how two rival clans fucked up the entire world by forcing children to the battlefield to kill, get killed, and so on, so forth, in a never-ending loop. A cycle of hatred that sounds dumb if you ask me.
Then again, it's none of my business.
Or at least, it wasn't until someone hid a freaking bomb inside my yacht then boom!
I died.
But, not really.
I came back to life.
And no, not as a zombie. Eww.
But, as a child in a fuck fucking fantasy world where many children are expected to carry kunais and shurikens as toys.
And the worst part? I transmigrated way too early. By the time the main characters are born, I'd probably already be a corpse, if not a dying old lady.
Those fuckers! I already gave up my succession rights and even dumb myself down just so they could leave me off yet they still killed me in the end. What a sad bunch of paranoids. I didn't even want the title of heir. Why would I go through the hassle of scheming or plotting against all of them? All I wanted was to live a carefree and luxurious life but those fuckers ruined it.
How am I supposed to live the life I want now in this poverty and war-stricken era? How am I supposed to live surrounded by luxuries when all that I see around is dirt and run-down houses? Damn, even the food here tastes so bland and weird. Pweh!
"Lady Arisu, it's time." Said one of my maids behind the screen.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
I stood up and set off towards the main house where the daimyo, my father, resides. Speaking of food, it's time for our family dinner— the most wretched time of the day— where I get to see the faces of my new father, his wife, and my siblings who, mind you, all share the same faces as my wretched family from my previous life. It appears that, even in this life, we're still people who shared an ill-fated relationship.
As soon as I entered the dining room, I heard my father's stern voice.
"You're late."
'No, I'm not. You're all just too early' is what I wanted to say, however, I didn't want to offend my father. At the very least, not yet.
"Gomen, gomen."
"Speak politely to your father." Said Aya, the third and only surviving wife of my father, who I think secretly holds a grudge on me for reasons I don't know. Welp, not that I care to know. Even the 'Aya' of my past life hated my guts.
"Haiii, Gomenasaii." I bowed lest Aya found something else to nitpick me on.
Aya furrowed her brows but remained silent.
"Sit down. Let's not keep the food waiting." said father.
I sat in my seat. As the oldest among 5 children of the Katsu Family, my position held some considerable weight, and so I was seated beside the old hag Aya whether we both like it or not. And, I assure you that we don't.
"Itadakimasu"
I ate my meal in complete silence while others, particularly this life's version of my past life's little fuckers, chattered. I paid no heed to their conversation as they talked and bragged about who got praised by their teacher the most or who completed their assignments faster. Father, on the other hand, showed quite an interest in their bickering and dropped some compliments. In the corner of my eyes, I saw Aya— or should I say mother— don a gentle smile.
Every dinner, they're always like this. Always so noisy. The atmosphere felt warm and nice though; a stark contrast to the family dinners I had in my past life.
I didn't like it. I didn't like the fact that I'm the only one who remembers.
I hated their faces because they remind me of bad memories. At first, I suspected they remembered the past too, but after watching them for so long, I'm certain that they don't. I'm not sure if they are the reincarnation of my ill-fated family or they're just people with the same face. I'm assuming it's the former since I'm also born with the same face as my previous life. There has to be some connection, right?
Regardless, I know I can't hate this family of mine especially when they still haven't done something hateful.
Akihiro Katsumi, the bright scholar and respectable daimyo of the Katsumi Island, is not the same yakuza associate and businessman I know.
Nagisa Katsumi, the benevolent wife of the daimyo, is not the evil stepmother who left me to drown in a pool.
Bunko, the intelligent second daughter who inherited the scholarly aptitude of her father, is not the one who almost poisoned me to death.
Chinami, the charming twin of Bunko and the social butterfly, is not the manipulative bitch who turned my precious people against me.
Daichi, the talented first son with a knack for strategy and leadership, is not the calculative bastard who bankrupted many of my business ventures.
Ezume, the gentle son and the youngest child, is not the two-faced, backstabbing son of bitch I know.
Or at the very least, they're not yet the people I knew.
It took me a whole decade to adjust after I started remembering— or should I say, dreaming of my past life—at four years old. The first few years after remembering were harsh, both to me and to my new family. I ignored them and used petty tricks to cause them discomfort. Slowly but surely, I got better at hiding my hatred. As time passed, hatred became dislike, then civility. I treated them with enough respect and politeness.
If only I didn't remember my past life, maybe I could have loved them. Too bad I remembered in clear detail my so-called parents' coldness and those little fucker's viciousness. I could erase the hatred because even if they are their reincarnation, they didn't remember the past. Still, I couldn't forget the betrayal and the disappointment I felt towards my sorry excuse for a family. I know where I'd stand.
I'm Arisu Katsumi, the estranged eldest daughter of this family.
"Arisu, are you listening?"
Chinami bumped my elbow with hers and whispered, "Oneesan, chichi-ue is calling you."
I took a glance at Chinami's face, then looked at father's.
"Well, I am now," I answered before flashing an irritating smile.
As usual, Father remained impassive.
My past life's father was like that too. Always calm but the moment he strikes back, the opponent will either be left speechless or dead. More often than not, they end up with a bullet wound on their forehead.
"The marriage date between you and the Minamoto heir has been decided."
I froze, but just for a moment since I had long expected that this father of mine would arrange my marriage. After all, this is ancient times. Sons are favored over daughters. Sons are raised as heirs while daughters are married off for connections. Although, Akihiro is a better father than my old one. He is still an ancient man with old-fashioned ideals.
I hid my displeasure. My soul might be in my late twenties but my body isn't. I didn't fancy marrying at 14 years old.
"I see..." I picked up a piece of sushi with my chopsticks. "And when will it be, father?"
"Three days from now."
...Three days?
Oh boy, am I not surprised. Leave it to ancient people to arrange a quick wedding.
I sensed the hot gazes of my four younger siblings. One by one, I glanced at their faces and asked, "Is there anything you would like to say?"
"I… I…" Chinami stuttered.
Bunko and Ezume flushed and looked away.
Only Daichi kept his composure— albeit, somewhat— and looked me in the eye.
"Will you… will you still live with us?" He asked, treading carefully.
I smiled at Daichi. I know that they are aware of my dislike for them. After all, they weren't mere children, they were my siblings. They're smart and sensitive enough to know why I distance myself from them.
"Why? Do you not want me here?" I answered his question with another question.
"I…" Daichi glanced at Bunko, Chinami, and Ezume as if he was asking for help. To no avail, the three avoided his gaze.
Daichi's face contorted and looked at the three with an expression that screamed 'traitors!'.
Well, this is interesting. I grinned.
It seems like my younger siblings are already starting their secret meetings. For what reason though? The little fuckers in my past life held secret meetings to plan for my death. Will the reason be the same? I hope not. I'm not sure if I can stop myself from retaliating. I may not be a fan of fratricide but I don't want to make the same mistake of letting my siblings be.
"Well, do you not want me here?" I repeated.
"I…" He stuttered again.
To be honest, I didn't care whether they wanted me here or wanted me gone. In my memory, Daichi from my past life took after our father the most. Cold. Calculative. Calm.
And so, the flustered face of this little Daichi is a rare sight to behold. For some reason, I pick up signs that my siblings are scared of me.
...As they should be.
Sometimes, I think my death is also my fault. Maybe one of the reasons why I died is because my siblings didn't fear me enough. I didn't ooze the 'don't mess with me' aura, so maybe that's why I'm the first one who died in an inheritance fight that I didn't even want to be a part of. Perhaps, I was too soft-hearted. Even if I didn't plot for their deaths, I should have planned to put them in prison or confinement.
Lucky me, I reincarnated in a world where softness gets you killed. I could use the practice.
I looked at Daichi again.
"It's fine. Don't force yourself. It's not an important question."
I resumed eating.
Marriage, huh. We'll see about that.
¤☆¤
After dinner, I went straight back to my room and took off my kimono, revealing my white nagajuban, or the Japanese way of calling a kimono undergarment. I removed the ribbon that tied my hair back, letting each black strand cascade down my back and shoulders.
I took out a small strip of paper inscribed with seals outside a small wooden box and infused my chakra on it. Seconds later, it burned into ashes.
I smiled.
Satisfied, I lay down on my bed, closed my eyes, and slept.
¤☆¤
On that same night, four other paper strips with identical seals burned in succession in different parts of— what was known in canon as— the land of water.
A/N: This is just merely an idea that suddenly sprung up. I'll continue writing until I can't think of anything anymore.
In the warring clans era, there are no 5 great nations yet. Land of water is still divided into many smaller territories ruled by different daimyos. When these territories wage wars that's when they hire ninjas to do their dirty work.
In this fic, Katsumi Island is one of the many islands in canon land of water.
I posted this chapter as soon as I finished it without much editing since I'm afraid of analysis paralysis. So, no beta-ed. Let's live and die without fear!
Q. How many islands/small territories do you think the land of water have?
(It's not specified in the wiki or even in canon. I just need help deciding how many should I put).
