Chapter 1: Knowing What's Going On

Disclaimer: Just really hoping this isn't a bad idea—and I don't own anything except my character! So, please enjoy!

Chapter 1: Knowing What's Going On

I didn't really know where I was at first. All I knew was that I was wet, tired, and hungry. But when I tried to voice these thoughts, all that came out were wails.

Why was I wailing? Last I checked, I was a growing 18 year old teenage girl, thank you very much.

It was only when the voices above me began to sing a soft lullaby that I really began to understand the situation.

I had been reincarnated as a small baby wailing for care from my new parents. While the person holding me continued to sing a tune I couldn't recognize, my somewhat-adult brain kept on questioning things.

Why me? Why was I reincarnated? Why do I still remember everything from before? These thoughts continued to swirl through my head, even when leaving the nursery and joining my new family at home. Honestly, it's still hard to think of them as 'Mom' and 'Dad', because I still remember my old family—and I couldn't help but miss them.

That's probably why I cried so much initially when growing up as a toddler. When I look back on it, I feel bad for my new parents since they had to deal with a large amount of my babyish tantrums. Attempting to hold down said tantrums didn't work either, since my new body acted very similar to my old one in being emotional like all hell. I wouldn't have blamed them for trying to give me up to someone else—because I was a loud baby.

In my previous life, Mom and Dad said that I was rather mild-mannered and a good kid, but now? If I didn't know any better, I probably would have appeared to be a small she-devil in disguise. But when thinking on it, I had good reasons for my tantrums.

No matter what my new family tried to do, I couldn't help but remember everyone from my past life. Everything my new parents did reminded me of what I once had.

My mom, occasionally singing while washing dishes and calling me, 'her smart little girl,' in that gentle voice of hers when I was nervous about going into college.

My dad, being the 'Vietnamese Batman' as I would say, warmly saying, "I love you," when I would hug him before going to bed.

My big brother, who would sarcastically say, "Go away," while accepting one of my hugs in the middle of the night.

My only female cousin on the maternal side of the family, acting as the big sister I always wanted by buying Hello Kitty pencils and giving me advice.

Josh, one of my best friends (and the first to find out I was ticklish) who would happily pinch my cheeks when I pouted.

Leo, my lovable asshole boyfriend of 2 years, kissing me as a way of shutting me up when I worried too much about his health.

I missed everyone, and that showed quite a bit when I was growing up—even through the potty training and walking. I hope I wasn't too much of a pain (considering I cried so much to where even at that age, I could see the dark bags under my parents' eyes) since it took about a year and a half to finally let everything go.

Even if I did cry about it, nothing would change. I had died and was given new life wherever I was now, and I had to start enjoying that life a little more.

It was just a bit hard though when my infant ears finally started to recognize my new name and the language my new family were talking in.

"Nakanaide, Tomoko-chan, nakanaide." Japanese…And 'Tomoko-chan'?

Yep, turns out my new name is Hoshino Tomoko, born September 24th. And for some reason, I felt screwed.

Then again, considering that one of the first things I saw was the freaking Hokage Monument, you would share the same sentiment.