Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing that registers when Sara wakes up is the light so bright that it blurs her vision. Her second thought is a realization that, somehow, she is alive. How anyone, even a doctor, could save her after she’d been trapped in a car with the metal bent around her body and a long rod impaling her abdomen, she doesn’t know but is thankful all the same. Sara can still remember the pain, even if the only thing she can feel now is the headache she induced while trying to focus her vision. A wound to the abdomen making her unable to focus is a mystery she isn’t keen to try and figure out while her head is still aching. Instead, she closes her eyes to shield them from the light that only exacerbates the throbbing. She falls asleep the second her eyes close before even realizing how tired she is.

When Sara wakes she is startled by the wrinkled face just inches from her own. Her gaze is drawn immediately from the old woman’s face to her startlingly red hair. “Nawaki.” Even the woman’s soft words cannot pull Sara’s gaze from the red hair. It isn’t hard to recognize what the woman said as a name, even if Sara doesn’t remember it. She wants to correct the stranger invading her personal space.

Instead of “no, my name is Sara,” a string of wet, nonsensical syllables fall from her lips. It embarrasses Sara, but the stranger appears to find her struggles endearing, as she smiles and puts together a few nonsensical words of her own. For a moment, Sara thinks the woman’s words sound Japanese. Immediately, she shakes away the thought, justifying it by telling herself she must have a concussion if her fascination with anime and manga is being projected onto a stranger who must be a nurse, only there to help her get better.

Sara begins to settle, comfortable in the knowledge of where she is. A hospital is the best place for her if she has a concussion serious enough to be mixing up languages. A moment passes in contentment before she begins to fuss again as she realizes just how close the woman’s face is. She flails her arms, trying to get a bearing of her surroundings, but they hit a barrier immediately. Whatever is restraining her is soft and not uncomfortable, but that it keeps her from moving as she pleases puts her in a panic. The wail comes involuntarily, but Sara makes no effort to calm down because something isn’t right , and no one is explaining anything to her.

Her outburst finally draws concern from the old woman. With a frown she starts cooing as if speaking to… to a child. That can’t be right, but… Sara can feel herself bouncing lightly in the air. It is clear she is being rocked and that couldn't be possible unless… not unless she really is a baby.

Her crying tapers off into sniffles as she focuses all of her energy on trying to figure out what, exactly, is going on. There has to be a logical explanation. Something other than reincarnation because that… Well that can’t be real. Not when she has all of her memories.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a soft, “obaa-sama?” That much Sara understands from the anime she watched, though she doesn’t know anyone who calls their grandmother that respectfully in real life. Well, didn’t. If she truly has been reborn and the old woman was related to her somehow, it wouldn’t be strange if she were to get to know the girl attached to the new voice.

Obaa-sama, as Sara (Nawaki?) didn’t have another name to call her, speaks to the girl that Sa-Nawaki still hasn’t managed a glimpse of. The soft sound of footsteps on a tatami floor is followed by Nawaki being shuffled as obaa-sama frees one her hands to make room in the other to receive something the little girl hands her. The girl moves toward Nawaki with a grin, she is blonde Nawaki observes, and she shoves her fingers toward Nawaki’s face. Nawaki might have grabbed ahold of them, if for no other reason than to compare the size to her own, but her limbs are still inhibited by the blanket swaddled around her. The girl is unperturbed, turning to Obaa-sama and speaking in quick, excited Japanese. Obaa-sama speaks softer, calmer, and slower. While Nawaki doesn’t understand Japanese at any significant level, the deliberate ways the older woman speaks allows her to hear the individual sounds well enough to pick out what she assumes is a name: Tsunade. Nawaki can’t stop the gurgling giggle that escapes when she thinks that a name she could only associate with anime before is now owned by a girl who is very likely related to her.

Her laugh is cut off as she discovers exactly what it is that Tsunade handed Obaa-sama a moment ago. The object is thrust into Nawaki’s mouth and instinctive suckling brings warm milk flowing down her throat. Less than halfway through the bottle, Nawaki is jostled again, and she feels herself moving through the air as Obaa-sama passes her into Tsunade’s arms. Nawaki worries a moment about being held by someone so young, but Tsunade’s grip is sure. Soon she relaxes into Tsunade’s hold and she drifts slowly into sleep.

Throughout most of her infant life Nawaki is asleep. So much, in fact, that it is the waking hours that seem to be the inbetween rather than the other way around that Sara used to measure her last life. During these inbetweens she often wakes alone, though she learns that if she makes noise, even quietly, it doesn’t take long for Tsunade or obaa-sama to appear miraculously by her side. Both of them coo at her, speaking fluent Japanese. It’s difficult to understand without context, but knowing they are probably talking about her with the frequent “Nawaki-chan” mixed in helps. The words make more sense the more often she hears them. Words said before feeding her or changing her diaper become especially familiar.

Nawaki grows and strengthens more than her vocabulary. The flailing of her limbs becomes more controlled. She uses her developing muscles to turn over and drag herself small distances. Tsunade cheers for her with clapping hands. Obaa-sama smiles and makes her something to eat when she tires herself out.

Nawaki spends increasingly more time awake. She starts to recognize patterns. Obaa-sama is always there, day and night, at home. Tsunade leaves sporadically, and Nawaki never has any way of telling how long she will be gone. It seems random. Although Nawaki can now understand nearly anything Obaa-sama and Tsunade say, she still lacks the ability to speak back to them when she has no teeth to shape her words. Since she can’t ask them for an explanation she does what she can. She walks.

Her first few wobbly steps are taken while Tsunade is absent. Nawaki is distracted by something else though. During all those times that Obaa-sama and Tsunade changed her diapers, she tried to block everything out due to embarrassment. While walking she has finally taken notice of existence of something between her legs. All those times she heard Tsunade say “otouto” she assumed she was mishearing or that she was wrong about what it meant. Now it is painfully obvious that Tsunade truly did see Nawaki as her little brother. She wonders if she can tell Obaa-sama and Tsunade that she is really a girl and have their acceptance. She doesn’t remember Japan ever being so tolerant, but maybe her family can be an exception. She’s not sure if she’ll take the risk when she has the chance.

Nawaki begins teething alongside learning to walk. It hurts. She can remember the beginnings of her wisdom teeth coming in, but that was barely uncomfortable compared to the pain she is feeling now. The only solace she can find is that with teeth she can speak and that Tsunade and obaa-sama are doing the best they can to keep her gums numb. She still cries through half the day.

Obaa-sama often pulls out books to distract her. Children stories about great ninjas of the past. Tales about her grandfather and great uncle. And wasn’t that a shock to the system. Perhaps she should have thought about how much her sister Tsunade resembled the character Tsunade, or maybe given more thought to her name being the same as the character's little brother, but it escaped her notice. Perhaps because Nawaki is only a passing mention in both the anime and manga. That’s another terrifying idea she doesn’t want to think about. Then she thinks that maybe she has to. This entire time she was learning to walk just so she could interact with the world. Now she wonders if maybe her life depends on her ability to learn and learn quickly.

This entire idea is brought a little too close to home when Tsunade brings her team to visit. Orochimaru freaks Nawaki out. He smiles at her, but instead of seeming friendly she is reminded of a time, when she was still Sara, that she saw her cat playing with a chipmunk outside. The way that once she caught it she would prod into running again just to play a game of catching it again.

Jiraiya grins at her. In a complete contrast of Orochimaru’s his smile is full of teeth and so friendly that it is offputing. “Hi there!” Jiraiya’s voice booms and he crouches to come face to face with Nawaki. “So this is Tsunade’s little brother.”

Nawaki bites back the correction even if inside she screams “sister!” She only shrinks back from the stranger who has gotten entirely too close without her permission.

Orochimaru’s chuckles bring Nawaki’s eyes back to the eerily pale boy. “You’re scaring the child, Jiraiya. Now you can add children to the list of people who don't want you near them, right under women.”

Tsunade cackles while Jiraiya splutters. Even Nawaki can’t hold back a snort.

Jiraiya shoots a betrayed look at Nawaki, as if he somehow expected that at least she would come to his aid. A moment later he finds his voice again as he glares at Orochimaru, “I’m not nearly as scary as a creepy snake-teme!”

At last, Nawaki truly begins to laugh and Jiraiya is visibly relieved. “You’re not scary at all,” Nawaki says through giggles. She was so intimidated before, but now Nawaki has to admit that these three, including Orochimaru, have a way of getting those around them to open up. If she thought about it, she might consider it a terrifying ability. Now, though, she is distracted and laughing with Jiraiya.

Orochimaru hovers at the edge of the room while Nawaki convinces Jiraiya to tell stories of different missions he's been on. "Nee-chan and Obaa-sama don't tell me anything," she explains dramatically.

"Hey," barks Tsunade, affronted, "I tell you about all the missions I go on."

Nawaki looks at her sister with incredulously raised eyebrows, "your stories are like mission reports. I want to hear about the fights and the cool jutsu you use."

Jiraiya guffaws, "how old are you kid?"

"One and a half," she answers proudly.

"So young," Orochimaru remarks. It sounds casual, but Nawaki can feel his eyes on her, and he is definitely paying more attention than he was before.

Tsunade doesn't appear to catch on, "exactly, someone who is still a baby doesn't need to learn about fighting and jutsu. You won't even remember today a year from now."

"Yes I will," Nawaki says. It doesn't sound indignant or stubborn the way most children's words are. She says it casually, as a fact, with no weight behind it at all.

It seemed to annoy Tsunade nonetheless. "No you wont. Babies don't remember stuff."

"I'm not a baby."

Tsunade opens her mouth to talk back, but Orochimaru interrupts her before she can start. "I propose a wager."

The gleam in Tsunade's eyes in unmistakable, "Oh?"

"If Nawaki remembers then I will train him so he can be a part of the 'fights and cool jutsu' that intrigue him. He appears eager enough. However, if he forgets, then I will allow Tsunade to shave my head."

Tsunade was prepared to protest the training of a child who would be only two years old by the time the bet reaches fruition, until she processes what Orochimaru just offered. "Wait, seriously?"

"Deadly," he purrs. "We have Jiraiya as a witness and, of course, little Nawaki here."

Tsunade scoffs, "he wont be much of a witness a year from now."

Orochimaru waves away her concerns with a flippant flick of the wrist. "If you're worried then spread it around the village."

Jiraiya tries make sure his crush keeps her perspective, "Tsunade are you sure--"

"Deal." Tsunade ignores him entirely and hold her hand out to Orochimaru to seal the deal.

The curve of Orochimaru's lips as they seal her fate without her input unsettles Nawaki. Logically, she supposes, she has all the power. She can just as easily pretend she doesn't remember when the time comes, but she knows she won't pass up the oppurtunity to begin training early. Under a Sannin no less, even if they have yet to be bestowed the name. If she continues to allow Tsunade to determine everything, Nawaki worries she may share the fate of Canon!Nawaki and die before she can call herself a teenager.

"What day do I have to tell you I remember?" Nawaki finally inserts herself into the bet that relies entirely on her.

"Today is March eleventh," Orochimaru informs her and turns back to Tsunade. "I believe we can agree to give the child two days leeway in either direction on the exact date."

Tsunade shrugs, "he won't remember anyway."

Orochimaru nods and faces Nawaki again, "You have five days, March ninth to March thirteenth of next year, to inform someone that you remember this day.

Nawaki nods resolutely, "got it."

Chapter Text

One year after The Bet, Nawaki wakes with a lump in her throat and a knot in her stomach. She knows she needs this training to survive, but it scares her all the same.

At breakfast, Tsunade is suspiciously smug. Probably, Nawaki muses, because two of her allotted five days passed already. It might be silly, but Nawaki chose to wait. She wanted to prove that she could remember the date exactly.

“Nee-chan?”

“Hm?”

“Will Orochimaru-San be coming over today?”

Nothing will ever bring Nawaki as much joy as the look on her sister’s face in this moment. Tsunade freezes, food still hanging from the chopsticks halfway to her mouth. She doesn’t move for a solid five seconds. Not even to glare at Obaa-Sama’s less than polite laughter.

Finally, Tsunade recovers and narrows her eyes at Nawaki. It’s almost frightening, but Nawaki forces herself to maintain her innocent facade.

“Alright brat, you win. Finish your breakfast.”

Nawaki allows herself to grin now, but she only manages a couple more bites. Then the knot in her stomach tightens again. She pushes her plate forward, “I’m not hungry.”

Tsunade’s irate gaze becomes concerned. “Hey, are you okay? You don’t have to start training if you don’t want to.”

“I want to!” she protests. “I just…” Nawaki struggles for words. The ones that come to her feel weak, but it’s all she has. “I’m just nervous.”

Tsunade snorts, “trust me. Orochimaru may seem scary, but he’s a softie at heart.”

Nawaki doesn’t believe that, and the incredulity must show on her face because Tsunade keeps talking.

“If you hate it or it scares you, you can stop. No questions asked.”

“Okay,” Nawaki says quietly. Nothing feels resolved. Nawaki knows she has to be strong to survive whatever is coming for her.

(And isn’t that the worst part? She doesn’t know what’s coming. All she knows is that Nawaki is meant to die.)

Nawaki knows she can’t possibly quit halfway no matter how terrible Orochimaru is. She forces herself to finish breakfast, though. For Tsunade’s sake.

Then they leave to meet Orochimaru.

Nawaki is doing this to survive, but every step feels closer to the grave. Tsunade’s mutterings of losing sound like bagpipes at a funeral. An eternity passes in seconds and Nawaki sees Orochimaru waiting in the middle of the training grounds.

“Ah, you're here,” Orochimaru purrs, “and right on time, too.”

“Alright, you won your stupid bet,” Tsunade acknowledges. “But I'm not leaving Nawaki alone with you. If you hurt my little brother…” she curls her fist into a ball and grinds into the opposite palm instead of putting the threat into words.

Nawaki wonders if this display is for her benefit. Another attempt to reassure her after she let her anxieties show this morning.

“Tsunade,” something about the way Orochimaru says her name makes Nawaki think he wasn't acknowledging Tsunade the first time he spoke. Not that he just noticed her, but as if she didn't merit his attention before and only barely does now. It makes Nawaki shiver, the dismissal making him seem more powerful than Nawaki already thought he was.

It makes Tsunade angry. “Don't laugh at me you smug bastard. You may have won the bet, but I'll still kick your ass if you push my baby brother into something he isn't ready for. He’s two years old!”

Nawaki wanted to pipe up with her usual ‘two and a half!’ but the tension between Tsunade and Orochimaru was palpable in a way that clogged her throat.

“The child is intelligent beyond his years,” Orochimaru says. “Maybe even a genius. Do you really want to waste that because of your pride?”

Tsunade’s jaw dropped. “No amount of talent means you should start training at two!” she spat.

“Relax Tsunade,” Orochimaru drawls, “I will not require Nawaki to do anymore than he wants. I won’t go any further than the basics until he asks.”

Tsunade breathes a sigh of relief, but Nawaki doesn’t miss the smug way Orochimaru looks at her. Maybe Tsunade would see it if she didn’t have the trust in her teammates that Konoha worked so hard to instill in their shinobi, but betrayal is still a foreign word to most in the Leaf Village. “Fine,” Tsunade says, “but Nawaki has to be home in time for supper.”

“Of course,” Orochimaru says as Nawaki watches her sister leave with apprehension. “Now child,” Orochimaru finally addresses Nawaki, “Shall we begin your training?”

She runs her bottom lip between her teeth for a second. Then Nawaki nods, “yeah.”

“Excellent,” he hisses. “Your first task is simple. You only have to hit me.”

“Hit you?” Nawaki questions.

“Yes, if you can land a single hit then I will give you a reward.”

Nawaki purses her lips and narrows her eyebrows, “what kind of reward?”

“That will be up to you. Provided you’re up to the task.”

Nawaki considers it a moment longer. She has no experience in fighting in this life or the one before. “And if I can’t hit you?”

Orochimaru’s lips curl upwards, “clever child. If you fail to so much as brush my sleeve you will make the journey back home without touching the ground.”

Nawaki frowned, attempting to solve his puzzle. Obviously, she knows she can always say no, but the thought barely crosses her mind. This is a test created by Orochimaru. Despite this being her second meeting with the man she has already learned he doesn’t teach lessons. Instead he gives tests.

Only, Nawaki isn’t sure what he is testing. Orochimaru is ten years older than her and already a jounin at an age when most are barely genin. She knows she wouldn't be able to make it within ten feet of him if he didn't let her, and he is definitely aware that Nawaki doesn't have a fraction of the skills required to tree-jump home. He has concocted a challenge she has no way of winning yet she can't afford to lose.

At first, the predicament reminds her of the tenth question of Naruto’s chunin exams, but she knows Orochimaru can't be testing her loyalty when he has none to speak of. Then she remembers Orochimaru himself in the same chunin exam. There, too, he confronted a would-be student with impossible strength. Sasuke tried to take the only way out he could find, Nawaki remembers. Sasuke offered Orochimaru the scroll, but he wasn't interested in that.

She decides that whatever Orochimaru is after, it isn’t surrender. Attempting to wield the element of surprise, Nawaki takes a running swing at Orochimaru, but he slides smoothly out of harm's way. One failed swing is too early to get angry, but Nawaki can feel the beginnings of frustration. She tries to turn the punch into a kick, but only succeeds to literally spin out of control while Orochimaru barely moves to dodge it. Gritting her teeth, she gets up from where she fell after making herself dizzy and rushes toward Orochimaru again. And again. And again.

His moves don’t remind her of a snake the way she thought they would.They’re too quick, too graceful. They’re too natural for a dance, too. Nawaki likens him to water, seemingly still but unable to grasp. Like a river, Orochimaru’s destinations with each motion seem to already be carved into the earth and he simply slides into them. Nawaki can’t help but wonder if she can predict his movements. It's a foolish thought. That power only comes with the Sharingan, but she understands Orochimaru’s obsession with the dojutsu better now.

In a swift change of tactics, Nawaki stands back for a short while, just staring at Orochimaru. The older boy does nothing in response. He doesn’t twitch, nor open his mouth to ask if she’s given up. He only stands in that infuriating way with his arms limp at his sides. He’s dismissing her and, as much as she knows he is her superior in every way, it draws a feral screech from Nawaki as she launches toward him again with new fervor. She doesn't try to think out her strikes anymore nor silence her battle cries. It isn’t stealthy or ninja-like in the slightest but, she reasons, she is only two and a half.

Her latest onslaught has brought the only emotion to his face that Nawaki has seen since before the fight began. The satisfied smile only fuels her fury. Her aimless punches become open-handed as attempts to claw at him. After a particularly close dodge Orochimaru is close enough to her ear to whisper, “you’re getting desperate.”

It is reflex that causes her to lash at him to keep him away, but he already moved and she finds herself on the ground instead. If asked, she would blame the tears building in her eyes on child hormone imbalances, but she knows that even in past life she cried more easily when angry than sad.

Orochimaru’s smirk remains on his face as he watches her pick herself back up and hurriedly wipe the tears away. The test doesn’t last much longer. Hours have passed and Nawaki is clearly too tired to keep it up, and Orochimaru promised to have her home for dinner. “That’s enough.”

The moment the words leave his mouth Nawaki flops to her back, arms and legs splayed out. “I don’t understand,” she moans. “What was the point of that? Didn’t you say you were gonna teach me.”

“Did you learn nothing from the exercise?”

Nawaki lifts her head slightly to glare at him. “I learned that you’re an asshole.” A few hours ago, before the so-called training, Nawaki wouldn’t have dared to talk to Orochimaru like this. Now, she is too exhausted to be scared.

If he is surprised by the language he doesn't show it. Then again, he was on the same team as Tsunade so he likely knew where she learned it.

“Training is over. Your sister is expecting you.”

Nawaki huffs and pushes herself away from the ground. “When will you train me again?” However useless this first session felt to her, Nawaki wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

“Tomorrow. Six AM.” She nods and turns to walk home. “Did you forget the penalty already?”

Nawaki turns back to face him, arms crossed. “I’m not touching the ground. I have shoes.”

Her response elicits a bark of laughter that she didn’t know Orochimaru was capable of. It leaves her stunned and wondering if she is making a mistake equating this twelve-year-old boy to the villain a book from a lifetime ago says he’ll become. “I see, clever boy. Then go home tonight and be prepared for tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

Tsunade questions Nawaki as soon as she walks in, “How did Orochimaru train you? Did he hurt you?”

“No! C’mon nee-chan, he didn’t even touch me.”

“Hmph! Then what did he do?”

“Just danced around the training field.”

“What?”

“I was trying to hit him.”

“Why?”

“Because he told me to!”

“Well did you?”

“No, not even close.”

“So,” Tsunade drawls hopefully. “Are you done training with him now?”

“What? Of course not! I actually want to learn something.”

“Then just let me teach you.”

Nawaki looks at her sister incredulously.

“Hey! I can teach, brat.”