A strange new life

It had been a few days since the thing happened. Since then, I learned a few things. I couldn’t speak. For some reason, no noise would come out. I wasn’t mute; I know I wasn’t. My body just refused to obey whenever I tried to make any sort of sound. I was almost five years old, and from listening to all the whispered conversations, I was kidnapped when three. No one knew where I was for the last two years. 

That helped me put some things into perspective. The event know as Hyuga affair happened when Hinata was three years old. The Third Raikage sent his village Head Ninja to kidnap her— me. This was confusing. At times It felt like I was Hinata, other’s I was still Camilla. In the original story, that failed, the Head Ninja was killed, and Hizashi — my uncle — was offered to Kumogakure as restitution.

That seems to be the point of divergence from the original time-line. Hina—I was kidnapped, and they only found me two years later. I didn’t know where I had been kept, but from what I remember, some sort of lab. Was it in Kumogakure?

I learned other things as well. I slept for about a week after being rescued. During that time, the Hyuga clan disowned me, and after I woke up, tried to kill me. From all the past few days gossiping, I learned the reason why. Neji had been adopted by the main family after I vanished. In the original story Hizashi wanted his son, considered a genius of the clan, to be free of the cadet branch family stigma. After losing the heir, what better way to settle the dispute between brothers than adopting a talented kid into the main family?

But that was history. I wasn’t that Hinata, at least, not anymore. Before I left the hospital, old man Hokage came to visit again. Skipping all the pleasantries, this was the meat of the one-sided conversation.

“What do you plan to do now, Hinata?” The old man asked, looking at me. “If you want to join the Academy, we’ll arrange a place for you to live and a monthly stipend for your daily necessities.”

It always surprised me how kids in Naruto stories were treated. Child soldiers, harsh training, adult treatment while still kids. Were they different here somehow? Was it because of chakra? Or was it just cultural differences?

“If you don’t want to be a kunoichi anymore, we can place you in an orphanage and maybe look for a family to adopt you.”

I considered for a moment. If butterfly effect didn’t spiral things too out of course, I knew what fate awaited this world. Pain’s attack, Konoha’s destruction, the fourth war, white Zetsu army, Infinite Tsukuyomi. Could I live in such a dangerous world and let others dictate my fate? No, I could not. I raised one finger. I couldn’t speak, but I hoped this would be clear enough.

“You want to join the Academy?” The God of Shinobi asked.

I nodded.

“Very well, it pleases me to know that.” He smiled; it looked genuine. I wasn’t sure if it was. “I’ll—” He started, but I moved my hands again. I mimicked writing, drawing the hiragana characters in the air. Hinata hadn’t learned enough kanji before being kidnapped, mastering only the simpler version of the language.

Nevertheless, I wrote. “Could I ask for something?”

I didn’t know if Hiruzen was used to this type of conversation. The man didn’t blink or even struggle to understand the words I wrote.

“And what would you ask for?”

I looked down. A nurse had been kind enough to bring me a mirror. When I looked at myself, I saw Hinata’s face reflected. Dark blue hair had started to grow again. It was still the same round, soft face except for the eyes. They were not white anymore. The girl in the mirror had black eyes, and if I looked hard enough, one of the pupils was vertical, like a snake’s. Another reason why Hiashi wanted to kill me?

I looked back at the Hokage. He waited patiently. It was a gamble, but without any clan resources, I wasn’t sure I could keep up with people from this world. I wanted an advantage. I wanted a cheat. I wrote again.

“Fuinjutsu theory books. Language primer.” My reasoning was simple. The fourth Hokage was cool. And sealing techniques are op. Without a Dojutsu cheat, seals were the next best option.

Old man Hokage scratched his chin. Looked me up and down. “Can you cast Fuinjutsu?”

I had no idea. I think most people can cast it, but the real question was if I had any affinity to it, which I didn’t think I did. At least initially, Hinata didn’t study that field. I shrugged.

“Very well,” Old man Hokage said, “I’ll give a scroll with basic instructions. If you can learn from it, I’ll give you more.”

I nodded, happy. That was fair and more than I expected. After that, the conversation turned to other boring matters. Hiruzen asked what I remembered. I omitted the things I knew from my previous life but told him what Hinata did remember, which wasn’t much. She didn’t remember falling unconscious. There was no memory between her passing out and my waking up. The only thing I did remember was Wolf-san bursting inside the lab. Hiruzen chuckled when I called Kakashi that. Weird.

A few days later, I was in my own apartment. The place was small, cramped, and nothing compared to what I knew from my two lives. Camila lived in a three-bedroom with her mother. It wasn’t the biggest, but it was cozy. Hinata lived in a luxurious home, being the daughter of a clan leader.

The new apartment was small and bare-bones. One bedroom. One living room. The kitchen at least had the basic necessities. I really appreciate the oven. I already had ideas. Again, it was small and simple, but at least it was mine for as long as I worked for the village.

Lack of spoken words made things difficult until I bought a small drawing board, pen and an eraser. My writing still wasn’t the best, I could only use hiragana, but it was enough. With the money I received, I got new clothes, shoes, food, notebooks and other things I needed.

The first days were complicated, I was used to living with family, or as Hinata, having servants. I spent my days pouring over the language primer, then the fuinjutsu manual. It didn’t work like I wanted it to. Learning traditional kanji was complex and repetitive work. The style in the primer didn’t help either. The fuinjutsu manual assumed you already could sense and use chakra. But I couldn’t. Hinata had been too young to start training with chakra before being kidnapped, and nothing in the manual said how to sense or manipulate chakra.

It was frustrating. Infuriating.

To clear my mind, I started another project. I didn’t want to forget what I knew about the story of this world. Memory was a fickle thing, and the sooner I did this, the better. However, I didn’t want to simply write down things. I was pretty sure I was still under observation, perhaps even full-time. I didn’t want to write the story of this world where anyone can read it. I needed a way to keep things secret without alerting a bunch of paranoid ninjas.

My solution was a simple one. I started a diary and a storybook. In my diary, I wrote what I did for the day, how I felt, things I wanted, and my hopes and dreams for the future. Not the actual thing, you know. The storybook was something else. There, little Miss Chef Camilla wanted to learn all the recipes in the world and become a renowned chef. The story itself wasn’t important; the recipes were. The trouble of acquiring the ingredients, the competition with other chefs . They looked like nonsensical things, like a children's story, but each of those actually referenced a ninja, place, or event. Orange was Naruto. Lemon was Sasuke. The less said about that, the better. Once I learned more, I intended to move all this to an adequately coded book.

Aside from reading and writing, I also started with morning exercises. I loathed them before, but now I couldn’t not do it. Not with how many monsters were waiting in this world's future. My days settled into a routine. Wake up, run, have breakfast, train the katas I still remembered from the Hyuga clan, have lunch, study language, gnash my teeth in frustration trying to feel chakra in the evenings, sleep and start it all over again the next day.

Three weeks later, I received a visit. A chunin told me the academy started next Monday, and I was to attend it.