I'd like to say I handled my rebirth with grace and dignity. Truth is, I spent most of that first day cycling between crying, sleeping, and staring in wide-eyed disbelief at my new reality. But hey, I was a baby. I had an excuse.
It was during one of those wide-eyed moments that I caught Tsume – my mother, Christ, that was weird to think about – studying me with a furrowed brow. I stared back, taking in the sharp angles of her face, those distinctive red fang markings. She looked younger than I remembered from the anime, but no less fierce.
"You're an odd one, aren't you, pup?" she murmured, a calloused finger gently poking my cheek.
I blinked, trying to school my expression into something suitably baby-like. Probably failed miserably, because her frown only deepened.
"Those eyes," she muttered. "Too aware for a newborn."
Shit. I needed to be more careful.
When the nurse came to check on me, I made a point of flailing my arms randomly. See? Just a normal, uncoordinated baby here. Nothing to see.
The nurse cooed and reached for my hand. On impulse, I gripped her finger.
Her eyes widened. "My, what a strong grip for a newborn!"
Double shit.
Tsume's gaze sharpened. I quickly let go and did my best to look innocent. Can babies look innocent? I had no idea, but I gave it my best shot.
"Hana will be here soon," Tsume said, mercifully changing the subject. "Your big sister's eager to meet you."
Sister. Right. I had a sister now. This was going to take some getting used to.
As if on cue, the door burst open. A whirlwind of energy bounded in, all wild hair and excited eyes.
"Is that him? Is that my baby brother? Can I hold him? Please, please, please?"
The rapid-fire questions came from a girl who couldn't have been more than five or six. Hana. My sister. God, she was tiny.
"Calm down, pup," Tsume chuckled. "You can hold him if you're gentle."
I found myself carefully transferred into small, eager arms. Hana peered down at me, her face split in a wide, toothy grin.
"Hi, Kiba! I'm your big sister! We're gonna have so much fun together. I'll teach you all about ninken and how to throw kunai and-"
"Hana," Tsume warned. "He's a baby. That comes later."
"Oh. Right." Hana's grin turned sheepish. "Sorry, Kiba. We'll start with crawling, okay?"
I gurgled in response, my adult mind reeling at the contrast between her childish excitement and... well, me. I was physically younger, but mentally? I had decades on her. The dissonance was dizzying.
A new scent hit my nostrils then – milk. My stomach growled, a primal hunger asserting itself. Oh no. Oh hell no. I was not ready for this.
But my body had other ideas. As Tsume took me back and positioned me to feed, I found myself latching on instinctively. The rational part of my mind squirmed in embarrassment, but the rest... the rest found it oddly comforting. Warm. Safe.
I tried very hard not to think about it.
Later, as I dozed in my hospital crib, I overheard Tsume talking with someone. A medic-nin, judging by the antiseptic smell that clung to him.
"...unusual chakra signature," the medic was saying. "Stronger than we typically see in newborns."
"Is it dangerous?" Tsume's voice was low, concerned.
"No, no. Just... noteworthy. You may have quite the powerhouse on your hands, Tsume-san."
I filed that information away for later. Enhanced chakra reserves could be useful. Very useful.
That night, we went home. The Inuzuka compound was a sensory explosion – new smells, sounds, the ambient buzz of unfamiliar chakra signatures. My enhanced senses, which I was already struggling to control, went into overdrive.
Sleep proved elusive. Every time I started to drift off, a new sound or smell would jolt me awake. Dog barks. The rustling of leaves. The musky scent of ninken.
And voices. Low, concerned voices from somewhere in the house.
"...not natural, those eyes..."
"...strong chakra, could be a prodigy..."
"...keep an eye on him..."
Great. I was already arousing suspicion, and I wasn't even a week old.
As the hushed debate continued, I stared up at the ceiling of my new room, mind racing. I had knowledge that could change the course of this world's history. Power that, if developed right, could save lives. But one wrong move, one slip-up, and I could end up as a lab experiment or a tool to be used and discarded.
I had to be careful. Had to plan. Had to become strong enough to protect myself and those I cared about.
Sleep finally claimed me as dawn broke, my infant body exhausted. But my mind? My mind was already plotting, strategizing, preparing for the long game ahead.
Kiba Inuzuka was going to shake up this world. But first, I had to survive infancy.
One day at a time, I told myself. One day at a time.