I decided to set up yet another SI in the Naruto world, this time I'll keep an eye out for characterization.

There are a lot of ways to start an SI fic, but I feel, like many others, that giving some sort of cause to the event helps giving meaning to the whole story. Everyone can start an SI placing themselves inside of Dumbledore's head at the height of his power, but that, while undoubtedly cool, won't make for a terribly interesting story. Another version is starting out as reincarnation, which doesn't need to be scrutinized too closely, since by definition it lingers upon the idea of death which is beyond human understanding. On the annoying side, being reborn forces the MC to grow up from the start, and is forced to either completely ignore all bonds, since the MC had those in his previous life and doesn't feel like lying to the people around him (refusing to replace what he has lost), or unreasonably feeling part of the world he was reborn into from by the Author's will.

Entering a world that you've read about as fiction doesn't help you form meaningful and sane attachments unless there is a part of the world that makes you consider it as real and worthy of yourself. Here is born the 'merging' technique, which drops foreknowledge inside someone's mind and you find yourself piloting a life that has affections already in place. This technique is great from the writer's point of view, since it allows us to get immediately started with the juicy part of the story (and you as the reader won't need to read through the first couple of chapters written by someone that feels forced to in order to set the tone and the world of the story).

So, besides being reborn (boring at the start), merging (annoying because you have to take into consideration a regular kind of character), or simply being dropped into the world (a nightmare if one needs documentation), there is only another option: an incident or knowingly executed mad experiment that sets the SI in the place of the consciousness that drives the body of the author's MC.

The choice depends on what the author wants from the story he's going to write. AU fictions (and by that I mean those in which the SI is the leading part of the story instead of a passenger of canon) tend to be best served by the reborn-style or the dropped-in-world-style (that is on average, each author does as he/she please).

I have already played with people being reborn, with people being dropped in, and I don't enjoy the idea of taking the 'merging' route, mostly because the characters that I'd care for using as a mixed vessel for my SI are perfectly fine as they are.

I've already taken both roads of reborn SI-OC, one for Root and one that doesn't start there (Revolution), in this fic instead, I'm abusing the system as everyone should do at least once in his life.

In this fic, the SI overrides Sasuke's consciousness as a consequence of Itachi's bullshit eyes. It even makes some kind of remote sense, those eyes are directly inherited from Hagoromo's bloodline, which came from the Rabbit Goddess herself, whose power comes from the Shinju, the God-Tree.

You've seen Itachi being a prodigy. You've never seen what someone motivated can do in the body of Sasuke fucking Uchiha.

I hope you enjoy this premise and the fic that will follow.

I own nothing.

Awake

A slow and constant beeping was the sound that managed to pierce through the cloak of unconsciousness that had covered me up to that moment. It wasn't my ringtone, but it carried with it a constant insistence that I couldn't really deny. Groggily, and feeling my stiff body protest against each movement, I stirred, noticing the minute beeping slightly increase its tempo.

I opened my eyes to see a white ceiling, white tiles on the floor, and white paint on the walls. I was in a hospital room, tucked in a bed with white sheets and a clutter of white machinery that monitored my life signals. I blinked blearily a couple of times, slowly but surely bringing my hands to my eyes in order to scratch out the sleep-grime that still going to my eyelids.

Deliberately, I took stock of myself, wiggling my toes, feeling my legs twitch and answer to my commands, even if the soreness of my muscles was real, before passing my hands slowly over my torso.

Finally, I decided that I spent enough time checking myself for the worst of injuries, after all, waking up in a hospital wasn't good news, the circumstances of my awakening in the hospital would have turned out worse if I awoke with a missing limb. What the fuck did I drink the night before to wake up in the hospital?

With a grunt of exertion, I sat on the bed, groggily moving my legs on the side before sliding down, feeling the urge to empty my bladder. I sucked on my teeth for a moment, realizing that I was also thirsty after what probably was a hangover coupled with either an incident or a brawl at the pub.

Well, at least I wasn't handcuffed to the bed, that would indicate a far worse night that I can't remember. I thought as I yawned heavily, immediately identifying the door that led to the in-room bathroom.

I quickly relieved myself before reaching over to the tap and washing vigorously my face. It was then that I noticed that something was... out of place. Namely, the room seemed to be sized for a three meters tall man.

I walked back into the hospital room, looking for my actual clothes even if what I supposed had happened the night before didn't foretell anything good about their state, and only as I forced myself to climb over the bed in order to pull up the curtains that kept the room shielded from the sight of the city and the likely harsh glare of the sun, I realized, belatedly, just how short I was.

The room was perfectly proportioned: from the chair in one angle to the bathroom to the position of the machinery that had been monitoring my heart rate until I took off the wires taped on me.

I frowned, recalling that I hadn't been able to see myself in the mirror for I was too short to reach, it, but I discarded that particular once I pulled apart the curtains to watch over the city.

Only, it wasn't a city.

It wasn't anything for which I had words.

With numbness spreading over myself, I stared at the monument that was the trademark of Konohagakure no Sato for what looked like a lifetime. My blood rushed to into my ears and I could only hear the beating of my heart. I forced myself to look around and try to find out if it was only a big cosplay movement moment or not.

Not far from the hospital, I could see a park that had a low wooden fence and a number of benches, with an abundance of bushes and skimpy trees, slides, and even a sandbox. Without really thinking about what I was doing, I opened the window, ignoring the person that I could see with the tail of my eye on my left, and breathed in: it didn't smell like a city. The air was crisp and clean, and the incessant rustle of leaves washed over my ears like the evermoving sea once I removed the glass barrier that separated us.

Trees were sprouting everywhere between the buildings, and while there wasn't a single cloud in sight, leaves were fluttering everywhere over our heads. Looking back, even cultists wouldn't give wooden kunai for children to play with. Or would they? After watching "The Following" I thought that everything was possible for a cultist.

My eyes roamed down the street, spotting three kids walking down the road laughing among themselves, I immediately recognized their Hitai-ate. They had forgettable faces and moved... well, like civilians actually, no show of magic chakra powers of any kind. For a moment, I started to relax. It's only a cult of Naruto. I thought, somewhat relieved. The situation still had a lot of problems and issues I needed to solve, but I had to deal with humans, no strange shit. Physics was still real, and I wasn't going to attend Hogwarts, I didn't have to find a strange ring to toss into an active volcano. Surviving was doable.

I blinked, and in a gust of wind, a man with a shiny Hitai-ate appeared in front of the trio I was observing, scaring them shitless. Probably the trio had done some bullshit, I had other thoughts running amock amok in my head. It's real. sounded in my head.

I ran, without direction nor reason, it wasn't like I knew anything about what the fuck was going on, did I? I hoped in a bad joke or nightmare of some kind, but it was simply outside the realm of possibilities, I felt the clothes on my skin, the breath running heavily through my labored, far-too-small lungs, there was no machine or trick that could mimic being once more in the body of a child.

I tore through the corridors of the hospital like a man possessed, throwing myself down a ramp of stairs and staggering back to my feet as soon as I could, and in less than a minute, I was on the street.

I ran into the closest park, stopping only at the edge of a small course of water where I dived in head-first, hoping that the cold water managed to do what washing my face could not, only to stop as I spotted my reflection in the water.

The black hair of a medium length, black eyes, chubby yet fine features that I immediately recognized: my reflection belonged to a 7 years old Sasuke Uchiha, from the manga Naruto.

Yesterday, I was getting plastered with some friends at the pub, and maybe I had decided to drive home instead of waiting for a cab, I didn't know.

Now, I was in Konohagakure no Sato, in the newly awakened body of Uchiha Sasuke, right after Itachi's killing spree.

I need to run away. I decided immediately: even without considering the madness that was my situation, being in the body of Sasuke of all people was a sure ticket to whatever shit was about to go down in the story, and I sure as hell had no need for it.

I fell on my ass still staring at my reflection, my mind stilling and running useless circles as I lost the ability to react to what was happening to me.

A smudge of color attracted my attention on the other side of the river, where a man in a black skinsuit and grey armour was staring at me from under a white mask painted with the rough features of a bird of some sort.

"Sasuke Uchiha, Sandaime-sama wishes to speak with you now that you're awake." the masked figure, no, the ANBU, spoke.

Fuck. Was my prominent and only thought.

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