Author's Note:Please leave reviews and comments — I'd love to know what you like or dislike! 😊I'm really new to writing and just doing this as a hobby, so don't expect professional-level work. Thanks for reading!
Warm.
That's how it started again.
But this time, it wasn't just warmth. It was light. Something soft and golden played across my face, nudging me gently out of sleep. I scrunched my face instinctively. The light pushed through my eyelids like someone was shining a flashlight into my soul.
I cracked one eye open.
Sunlight. Real, honest morning sunlight. It streamed through a paper screen somewhere to my side, wrapping the room in a soft, glowing haze. It should've been peaceful. It was, actually—until I remembered I was a baby.
I tried to move.
Big mistake.
My brain said, turn your head and look around. My body said, flail like a drowned ferret. Tiny arms wobbled upward, legs kicked out weakly. I grunted with effort, but all I managed was an awkward series of twitches.
Before I could make sense of my environment, something strange started happening.
A warmth began building inside me—not emotional, not external. Internal. Subtle at first, like a gentle pulse just behind my eyes. It grew quickly.
Oh no.
For a brief, horrified moment, I thought, Am I about to pee myself? But then the warmth sharpened, concentrated in my skull, and—
BOOM.
My vision exploded.
Not like opening my eyes. Not like waking up.
My entire world unfolded.
Depth, shape, heat, chakra—yes, chakra—poured into me. It was like reality itself had been peeled open. I could see everything. Walls became layers. I saw the grain inside the wood, the energy flowing through my own limbs, the pulse of life in a moth resting against the wall.
And the pain followed immediately.
It slammed into my temples like someone had fired a cannon inside my head. The flood of information turned to chaos. My nerves screamed. I didn't even realize I had started crying until I felt tears sliding down my cheeks.
I wanted it to stop.
I tried—desperately—to shut it off. I thrashed. I tried squeezing my eyes shut. Nothing worked.
But something was changing.
The warmth that had triggered this vision was fading. Rapidly. Like a battery draining.
And just as the last thread of warmth vanished, the vision folded back in on itself.
Normal vision returned. The screaming in my head dulled to a throb.
Arms lifted me. I was no longer alone.
Whoever it was held me close, radiating warmth and safety. I felt their voice more than I heard it—a gentle hum in my ear, followed by soft shushing.
"Shhh, shh, Hinata... it's okay. You're okay."
The voice. The rhythm. The contact.
It soothed something primal in me. The pain ebbed. I sagged against her.
And just before sleep overtook me again, one thought bubbled to the surface:
That... must have been the Byakugan. I never imagined it would hurt that much.
I woke up later in the same place I had started the day.
The same room. The same golden light, now softer, stretching longer shadows across the floor.
The pain was gone.
I let the drowsiness roll off me and focused inward. The warmth I'd felt before—the battery, the chakra—was still there. Barely. A flicker of heat, like a candle stub gasping its last breath.
I felt a flicker of relief.
No chakra vision this time, thank god.
I blinked slowly, then began the painstaking process of turning my head.
It was... difficult.
My neck muscles were clearly not made for this sort of ambition. Still, I managed to shift my gaze slightly.
The room.
It was a traditional Hyūga room, clearly. The same one I'd woken up in the day before, but this time I took time to look.
A bed. Larger than I remembered beds being. Neatly folded blankets. A simple wooden dresser with ornate handles and a mirror above it. A paper sliding door to the left, slightly ajar, revealing what looked like a narrow walk-in closet lined with soft-colored yukata. Another two closed doors led to unknown rooms. Everything was neat. Ordered. Old, but loved.
The floor was covered in tatami, and soft cushions were arranged in one corner. This wasn't just a bedroom—it was a sanctuary.
I didn't have long to admire it. My stomach grumbled again.
Ugh. Seriously? Again?
I tried to vocalize something—a protest, maybe. A request. A demand for food.
"Aeh... gahh... meh..."
The sounds were utterly useless. Baby noises. But they worked.
From somewhere just outside my view, she appeared.
My mother.
Hikari.
She leaned over me with the same tired but radiant smile, and to my horror—she started making silly faces.
No. No no no. Stop. Food, not funny.
But my body betrayed me. I started crying. Loud, angry baby crying.
"Hinata, what's wrong?" she cooed, concerned. Then came the soft chuckle. "Ahhh, you must be hungry."
Yes. Thank you. Finally.
Feeding happened. I had no control. Nature took over again.
Afterward, as was now tradition, I was hoisted upright and patted gently until I let out another hiccup-burp hybrid.
Dignity: officially extinct.
But then—something new.
I looked up at her face. Her eyes. Her warmth.
And I smiled.
A real, deliberate, baby smile.
She gasped.
"Ohhh, look at that smile," she whispered, voice cracking slightly.
She held me tighter. And for a moment, all my frustrations—chakra vision, pain, diapers—faded.
Because in that moment, I wasn't a reincarnated thirty-year-old.
I was her daughter.
And in her arms, I slept.