Okay, well.
I'm not going to explain my birth to you, you're grown-ups, you know how it works.
And when I close my eyes, I see those horrible images I'd rather forget. So, no.
...
I've just been born, and it's weird, feeling the fresh air filling my tiny lungs again.
Not feeling wrapped up in that strange, viscous, protective substance anymore.
I still can't see; my eyes are still stuck shut.
Around me, I sense several people in the room while I'm held by a huge pair of hands.
"So?" I hear an older, gruff voice ask from a little ways off, as they wrap me in a small blanket.
That's a bit new too, the sounds, I almost forgot how it looked like. Much clearer than inside.
"It's a boy," answers a female voice, seemingly the owner of the hands holding me.
Great. That means my transformation into my past manga self went smoothly. It makes things easier—being a sexless blue-haired androgyne might attract attention, maybe even hate, and I'm almost sure that would be weird even in the Naruto world.
And after practicing my transformation, I can change into a human body in 5 seconds and roughly 30 seconds for the slime form.
...
"Well, good. Take him," replies the gruff voice, sounding like an old man.
"Wait! Please, let me hold him!" exclaims a second female voice, which I assume is my mother.
"…fine. Anyway, you're dying. We can at least grant you a few minutes," he adds.
Well, perfect.
Barely born, no mom. And judging by the lack of a male voice nearby, no dad either. My life's off to a great start.
I feel passed from hand to hand, exchanged like a package no one wants, just waiting for the first chance to hand me off to someone else, until I end up on a body resting on a woman's chest, her breathing heavy, panting. Held balanced by hands soft as silk—this must be my new mother.
Not for long, if I understand correctly.
I open my eyelids to discover eyes that seem strange to me. My baby vision is still too poor to see clearly, more like the worst of the myopic without glasses.
Still, I can partially make out a few features—a chin, a nose, a loving but tired smile, far too tired.
But mostly the eyes, a bit too far away for me to see clearly, but seeming radiant, a dark red, plant-like color, though I could be wrong.
Is my vision tricking me? Or does she have conjunctivitis?
"My baby, my sweet baby," my mother begins slowly.
"You're so cute, a future heartbreaker…" she continues, tears in her eyes.
Cute? You have no idea...
"Your name is Kiyoshi, Kiyoshi Takikara."
She names me slowly, solemnly, letting a few tears fall before continuing:
"I'm sorry I won't be there for you, but I know you'll be strong, smart, beautiful, and live a long, wonderful life. The freedom I never had will be yours, and you will grasp it. You will become someone great, respected, and you will always fight for those you love and for what you believe in.
I love you with all my heart, my sweet son."
I can only feel my heart tighten, instantly and irrevocably tied to this beautiful woman with strange eyes.
Is it a psychological mechanism forcing me to love her because she is my mother?
Is it my baby body and barely forming brain pushing me toward these unknown emotions?
Or is it the fact that, in just a few minutes, she's already shown me more love than I ever received from my previous parents?
I don't know.
What I do know is that right now, and I think I'll remember it my whole life, I feel for someone an affection I've never felt before, and a sorrow even greater, knowing exactly what's coming next.
She finishes before slipping into unconsciousness, the nurse from earlier taking me roughly into her arms a few seconds later.
And as they take me who knows where—probably for cleaning, weighing, a medical exam, or who knows what—I hear the old man's voice again.
Grave. Worn. Still as dry as ever.
"Strange. I've never seen a baby born without crying. Quite an odd little one."
He continues, as if commenting on the weather:
"Anyway, he could make a decent Taki ninja. And who knows… this runt could, if Kami wills it, repair the immense dishonor cast upon his family."
…
Excuse me?
Wait, what?
Well… looks like I really am part of the local outcast family.
Great.
Orphan and son of dishonored people.
What a start, I think, as the nurse carries me down a dull corridor toward what seems very much like an orphanage.
Cold building. Faded colors. Damp, resigned atmosphere in the air.
We enter a shared room. Half a dozen cribs, the smell of cheap detergent and tired wood. She lays me in a bed at the back, right next to a large wall mirror, slightly spotted.
"Is that him?" says a woman's voice, hard as old bread.
I guess it's the matron.
"Yes," replies the nurse who brought me, in a flat, almost apologetic tone.
"Tsk… And to think we have to care for the grandson of such trash. It's absurd."
Ah, the joys of maternal kindness. I'm already missing it.
"He's so calm. Too calm. Not a cry, not a movement, not a grimace, not even a tiny surprised fart. Looks like a doll."
"As long as he doesn't cause trouble, I don't give half of a shit," replies a third, harsher voice I can't identify from my angle.
"Well, we've got work to do. Pull up the blanket and let's go. Dinner to prepare."
Their footsteps fade on the creaking wooden floor. I stay there, swaddled, silent, eyes half-closed, brain buzzing.
Sure enough, they all leave the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
So… looks like everyone hates me.
Great. Barely born, already on the blacklist.
I seem like the descendant of the local bogeyman. I wonder what he did for everyone to hate me this much.
Funny…
I didn't even know there was a "monster" in Taki.
I mean, that's normal... it's not like a know anything about Taki anyway. This village is so irrelevant...
In any case, Taki isn't exactly the center of the world. No big names, no major events.
I mean, apart from Chōmei… the water of something… and Kakuz—
…
Wait…
No.
No. No no no. That's a joke.
It must be a joke... right ?
It has to be a Joke
...
I wriggle for several minutes to turn in my crib, just to get a view of the mirror on the wall.
After some effort, I finally succeed.
I'm face-to-face with my reflection.
I really look like in my past manga life. Very dark brown/black hair and pale skin. But what grabs my attention is one thing above all: my eyes. Beautiful little eyes.
Small, swaddled, very dark brown hair, pale skin. Nothing unusual so far.
But my eyes.
It's them that stop me dead.
Beautiful little eyes.
Beautiful little purple eyes… with green pupils.
…
Damn.
"A local figure. Nothing special."
Yeah, right.
Go fuck yourself Anubis.