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The Art of Defiance

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Sakura was not happy.

Not happy in the slightest. She’d drifted off to a very painful sleep after receiving that fatal wound, knowing full well that her teammates would be waiting for her in the Pure Lands. She’d been looking forwards to seeing them, after a whole two months, and now her plans had been waylaid. Majorly.

The people holding her wailing form looked to be giants to her. Sakura knew that they weren’t ridiculously big, and that it was just her who was ridiculously small. She’d handled enough pregnancies to know the intricacies of the birth canal, and now she knew it all too intimately – having just been squeezed out of one.

Sakura could only come to one conclusion.

The universe was screwing with her. Again.

So she did the only thing she could – scream the living daylights out of her new lungs, because god knows she was entitled to it. She’d just been squeezed out of her new mother and she remembered every detail of it.

Sakura was traumatised. For life.

Well, for her second life, if she really wanted to be pedantic.



The first time she realised the implications of her apparent rebirth was after her vision had improved from that blurry baby sight. She’d been set down in her crib as per usual, after being changed and fed, which was mortifying. Absolutely mortifying. Her tiny little eyes had fixed on the strange red and white blob marked on the very top of her crib. Curious, Sakura pulled her tiny infant body towards it, stubby baby fingers reaching up at paw at the design before she realised exactly what it depicted.

An Uchiwa.

Sakura blinked, taking a moment to comprehend what that meant. It wasn’t like Uchiha leant out baby cribs to their friends. Nor had her parents gone to anybody else’s house and set her down in one of their cribs. They’d have to remove the crest if they wanted to get rid of a crib to any non-clan members… which meant only one thing.

She was in the house of an Uchiha family… so why had her parents left her there? In fact, she never remembered being taken out of the house by her parents, who had to be non-Uchiha. They had to be. They absolutely had to be.

Who was she kidding?

Her lip wobbled, tears building in her large eyes, tiny meaty hands flailing as the reality of her new situation set in far too quickly for her liking. She couldn’t deny the truth any more. Denial was stupid and could get her killed. She was a shinobi, and they had to adjust quickly or die trying. There was only one reason why she’d be in a crib with the Uchiwa painted on it. Only one reason for her to be there in the new life she hadn’t wanted in the slightest.

She’d been reborn as a fucking Uchiha.



She was two years old when she worked out she had a twin. Before, she’d just thought of him as a baby she was occasionally set down next to in the crib. Honestly, she was kicking herself the first time she realised that he wasn’t just some other random annoying baby. He was her twin brother, and he was ridiculously cute. Well, once she’d realised they were twins, she’d started to see him in a new light – a cuter light. At first, part of her hoped it might be Sasuke, but her hopes were quickly shot down, along with her dreams of becoming a kunoichi. Her father had come home once without bothering to change or visit the Clan Baths, thinking them too young to understand exactly what it was he was wearing, blood spattered on his red armour – armour Sakura recognised… if only from the history books.

It was then that she came to the horrifying realisation that she hadn’t been born in a time of peace. She hadn’t been born into the Uchiha Clan located within Konoha. Konoha didn’t even exist yet. They were at war – with the Senju – and it was going to last for a while longer still. Madara wasn’t clan head, and Sakura actually shuddered at the thought that she was actually looking forwards to that time. Madara. The same Madara who was going to go insane and try and force the entire world into a twisted genjutsu in order to create peace. He was going to be the head of her new clan at some point, and that needed to happen in order for Konoha to be formed. Sakura wanted to vomit, and when she next ate, she got her chance.

From what she’d overheard in her eavesdropping sessions, she’d learnt the son of Tajima was a few years older than her, and he’d be stepping onto the battlefield soon enough. Though word was, he wouldn’t be facing off against the Senju just yet. The Senju were vicious, according to her father, and they actually sent their women to the frontlines. The Uchiha, as she’d learnt, did not.

The birth rate of females within their clan – and Sakura couldn’t really deny the fact that it was her clan now – was alarmingly low, so it had been made law that women were to stay within the compound… and though Sakura could see the logic in that, she had no plans to become a simpering housewife. She’d gut someone before she did just that. She’d never fit into the mould of a perfect Uchiha Housewife, and she hated the fact she’d once longed for that very role. She couldn’t be quiet and demure. She’d be more likely to pound someone into the afterlife rather than simpering and waiting on hand and foot of her future husband.

So when her father presented a set of blunted kunai to her twin brother, she grabbed one and made her decision.

She was going to fuck this world ten times over, whether Zetsu liked it or not. A smirk pulled at her lips as she stared at the blunted blade. That plant bastard would die. Zetsu was the main instigator, the one who pulled the strings behind the scenes. She refused to live in a world designed by his manipulations again. Besides, Naruto would chew her ears off if she met him in the Pure Lands after she was done here and hadn’t done anything about the treacherous black plant. She was coming for him.

In fact, she had the perfect sealing formula in mind for the plant bastard.