Summary: Even afterlives had expiration dates and mine was no exception. If anything, my second life's clock had started ticking the moment I was born into a world where the impossible was possible and where only the strongest survived. Self-insert/SI OC
Disclaimer: Me no own Naruto, that's Kishimoto's to troll and play with~
A/N: I'm finally trying my hand at one of these SI OC fics after being inspired by so many good ones, although really, this is more of a stress-reliever and pet project more than anything...
Looking back on everything… I didn't remember dying, but I didn't remember being born either. It was likely a defense mechanism, something to protect my then-fragile mind.
What I did remember…was waking up in a comforting nothingness, a place that felt protective and warm. I wasn't conscious long enough to even begin to think about what had happened; soft murmurings made their way to my ears and a steady pulse lulled me back into the waiting darkness.
I would stay there for a long time.
When I woke again, I immediately noticed that my comfortable cocoon was gone. Instead, I felt myself in a place (being?) that was bigger than where I'd previously laid dormant.
Self-awareness trickled slowly into my mind, making it hard to think clearly, though a little voice kept telling me that I shouldn't be this…conscious of myself. I suppressed it though, because despite the fog surrounding my thoughts, I was curious. About where I was and more importantly, who I was. That was what nagged at me.
My arm twitched and I clenched my hand instinctively. My body, I realized (so that's where I was, in my body!) was moving because I could control it, unlike when I'd been in nothingness. Relief flooded throughout me but it left quickly when I noticed the oddness of the motion. It wasn't quite natural.
I carefully brought my hand to my face, peering intently at it. To my surprise, I could barely see my hand–my vision was too blurry.
As my other fist made contact with my mouth (so I didn't have too much control after all), something clicked. It was absolutely impossible and though a tiny part of me had already accepted it, the rest of myself was in shock that my body was now of an infant.
Life was somewhat normal after that shocking revelation. For the most part, I was okay with being a baby again; I didn't do much other than eat and sleep those first couple of months.
The absolute worst part of infancy was the feelings of confinement I felt when I was on the verge of waking up. There were times when my mind would drift and I'd forget about the body I inhabited and how much control I lacked over it; it was mind-numbingly terrifying during those first few moments of awareness. More often than not, I would wake up gasping and choking for air as my chubby little arms flailed about. It was frustrating, but I would be able to properly control my body once I grew older (how much older?); I just had to get through my infancy and childhood first.
Body issues aside, what truly bothered me was my lack of knowledge. The why, the when, the how about my situation. I had ended up in a new body and I couldn't understand why. There is such a thing called reminiscence, but in my case, it was simply nonexistent. Calling them memories was too much; they were closer to wisps of sensations, incomplete and always slow to filter through to my conscience.
Most importantly, there were just enough bits and pieces to grasp who I was (or rather, who I had been) and that was probably the only reason why I hadn't panicked outright–that and the strange darkness I'd laid in.
Despite the fact that I more or less knew who I was and what had happened (because I'd obviously died, though I'd have time to think about that much, much later) it wasn't enough nor did it prepare me for the world I'd been born in.