This is a product of boredom and being confined to bed sick. SI are the bane of most fanfics (I know), but like I said, bored, and possibly delusional from all this medication. This will probably be a little bit of a crack-fic, just something small to pass the time. It's more for me than for anyone else really, just needed a place to stick it, and FFnet seemed like good a place as any. That being said, feel free to let me know what you think if you want, or not if you don't.

**I do not own the cover art for this story. I have adapted a picture created by kai-isolated on deviantArt, credit goes to them for creating the picture.

Disclaimer: All characters of Naruto and things Naruto belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

I'm Defying Gravity

by ShadowedNara



I'm What?

I guess I should start off by saying that I died. The specifics behind it are all really fuzzy, a massive blur that's gradually fading from my memory. But there's a definite recollection of a body of water, and the sensation of not being able to breathe. It's something that never fails to raise the hairs on the back of my neck and instigate this sinking, sickly feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's definitely the most probable reason behind my irrational fear of large bodies of water.

I wasn't entirely sure how I ended up where I am, but the how wasn't important. The why was even less so. I didn't even want to attempt to comprehend why such a thing like this—reincarnation—had happened to me. Whatever higher being or deity pulled this off, there must have been some kind of reasoning behind it, though for the life of me I couldn't—and moreover didn't—want to know. It just hurt my brain trying to think about it.

But back to the important things. My name from before, not so important. Now however . . . they call me Shiro. The name itself seems pretty reasonable and understandable: my hair borders the line between white and silver, so many interpret my name to have taken after that.

But in reality, the name was originally given to me under the meaning of 'fourth born son.' Now, that's not to say I have any brothers. No sisters either. To put it bluntly, my mother got around. Or so I've heard. We don't talk about it, period. I've been told she'd had three sons prior to me, though their fates are largely unknown, and I wasn't entirely sure if it was true or not.

She'd died giving birth to me and had had enough strength before she passed on to name me, and then send me on over to my father who'd knocked her up this time. I was surprised she'd done even that much. What was even more surprising though was who my father ended up being.

It took me a while before I eventually recognised it. As a baby, your senses are highly underdeveloped, and your ability to retain large sums of information was minimal. Despite having the memories of my previous life locked away somewhere in my subconscious, I didn't really become self-aware of everything around me until I was just a little over nine months old and words began spilling out of my mouth (not sentences mind you, just words).

But that's when it finally hit me. And let me tell you, it hit me, and it hit me hard. Like a tonne of bricks. I'll admit to curling into a ball and crying and wailing like a real baby for a little while after I'd found out. As a baby there wasn't much else I could do.

Gravity defying silver hair. Mask. Aloof. Some call him Kakashi, some call him Dog, while others call him the Copy Ninja. To me, he was simply dad.

And by association, that meant that I was somehow in the Naruto-universe. Well wasn't that just fantastic . . .

Back to bed I go . . .