AN: and here is Chapter 5 :-) Feedback PLS :-)
I did not face a fifty‑million‑watt cataclysm.
For a moment, I didn't trust it. I kept my eyes open only the tiniest fraction, waiting for the familiar, brain-scorching blast of impossible brightness that had defined my entire existence so far. But it didn't come. No flash. No pain spike. No sensory overload. Just… vision.
Actual vision.
My breath stalled, tiny chest rising just a little before freezing again.
I can see.
The realization hit with a slow, creeping warmth. Not excitement. Not joy. Something heavier. Like awe mixed with disbelief, because after six months of darkness and guessing and occasional agony, I had no frame of reference for actually seeing the world.
So I kept my eyes open, and the world eased into clarity around me.
The first thing that registered was darkness.
Soft, muted darkness. The kind created by the gentle glow of moonlight filtering through a shoji screen. The whole room was bathed in a faint silver wash that made shadows stretch and shapes soften.
The ceiling above me was wooden—thick beams arranged in a grid pattern so precise and sturdy it felt like it had existed for generations. Every line was clean, the wood polished but worn in that particular way that only long-inhabited homes develop.
Traditional Japanese architecture…
I slowly turned my head, careful not to lose this precious clarity. The crib—yes, definitely a crib—was smooth and wooden, lined with a soft blanket tucked around me.
On the far wall, tall wooden cabinets rose in simple elegance. Some had sliding doors, others open shelves holding lacquered boxes, a delicate vase, a carefully arranged set of small figurines, and several framed calligraphy scrolls. Everything was arranged deliberately, respectfully.
I shifted my gaze.
To the right, a small alcove held a hanging scroll and a simple flower arrangement—ikebana, understated but beautiful. They were the kinds of pieces people placed in rooms meant for honored guests or important family members.
But the room didn't feel formal. It wasn't cold.
It felt lived in.
Warm.
Protected.
On the other side of the room, two people slept on a wide futon laid out over the tatami mats. The futon was layered with thick quilts, carefully folded edges revealing precise craftsmanship. The two sleeping figures faced each other, breaths flowing in steady rhythm.
My heart thumped.
Was this… my family?
I studied them slowly, drinking in every detail I could. The silhouettes were dim in the moonlight, but there was a quiet serenity in the scene that made something ache in my chest.
It was beautiful.
Like a frame taken from a period drama—except this wasn't fiction.
I'm really here. In Japan. In a traditional home. In a life that looks like something out of the culture I admired for years.
A wave of pride rolled through me.
My last life hadn't been glamorous, but I'd always secretly wanted to visit places like this. Old-style homes with tatami and shoji doors, spaces arranged with intention and quiet beauty. And now I was waking up inside one.
"Okay," I thought, half dazed, this is incredible.
But after a few minutes, reality set in.
It was the middle of the night.
Everyone was sleeping.
And I was a baby.
Great. I finally unlock vision, and the world decides it's nap time.
Still, the accomplishment warmed me. For the first time since my reincarnation, I drifted back to sleep with a sense of victory instead of confusion.
The next time I woke, everything was bright.
Warm daylight pressed through my eyelids in a diffuse glow that felt… nice. Comforting. I stretched slightly—an unconscious baby wiggle that I absolutely did not consent to—and then instinctively opened my eyes.
And immediately regretted it.
A spike of white-hot light slammed directly into my skull.
OH COME ON—! I thought, eyes snapping shut as I mentally shrieked. I FORGOT THE ENERGY THING. I FORGOT. I ACTUALLY FORGOT.
Lesson number one of being whatever weird energy-infused baby I was: control the flow behind the eyes.
Lesson number two: forgetting lesson number one resulted in instant suffering.
Groaning internally, I focused inward, feeling for the warm current inside me. It responded sluggishly—slow, heavy, still waking up. I nudged it, adjusted the flow behind my eyes, and waited.
Gradually, the pressure eased.
I opened my eyes again.
This time, the world settled into gentle focus.
A soft sound—steps on tatami—approached. I turned my head just as a figure leaned over my crib.
A woman.
Her face was soft, gentle, beautiful in that serene way that only people who radiate genuine kindness manage to be. Her dark blue hair was tied back neatly, framing pale, flawless skin.
But what captured me—froze me—were her eyes.
White.
Pure, unbroken white.
No iris. No pupil. Just luminous, gentle whiteness.
Something in my stomach flipped.
She spoke to me in a warm, melodic tone. I didn't understand most of it—just one word:
"Hinata…"
She lifted me into her arms. The warmth of her body curled around mine, soft and secure. I was still trying to process the visual overload when instinct took hold and she brought me to her chest.
My brain screamed.
My body did not care.
I drank.
WTF WTF WTF WTF— my thoughts spiraled, uselessly flailing in every direction. Those eyes. HER EYES. That's not normal, that's not normal AT ALL—
Before I could piece anything together, the door slid open.
A woman entered, bowing her head politely. Her posture was elegant, her tone respectful.
"Hikari-sama," she said.
I blinked.
Hikari-sama?
My gaze drifted back to the woman holding me.
Hikari.
White eyes.
Traditional clothing.
Traditional house.
The newcomer approached with folded fabrics in hand. As she leaned closer, I saw her eyes too—white. Unmistakably white.
A chill ran through me.
"Hikari-sama," the woman said again softly, then added:
"Hinata-hime."
My entire brain short-circuited.
Hime?
HIME?!
She just called me a princess?!
HINATA-HIME?!?
Pieces slammed together in rapid succession.
White eyes.
Traditional clan household.
The name Hikari.
The name Hinata.
My mind spiraled into panic.
WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. BACK UP.
White eyes… chakra-like energy… Japanese but not modern… clan structure… the name Hinata—
No way.
No way.
NO. WAY.
I felt something inside me collapse and ignite at the same time.
Am I—AM I IN NARUTO?!
Am I seriously Hinata Hyuga?!
Hinata. As in that Hinata?!
The shy girl. The chronically bullied heir. The drama magnet. The "surprise backup love interest" who gets maybe ten lines until Shippuden?!
My thoughts began firing at machine-gun speed.
Okay okay calm down. Calm DOWN. What timeline is this?! Pre-canon? Canon? AU?
Did the universe seriously think "hey let's reincarnate this guy as a baby girl with anxiety in a literal war zone"?
Why couldn't I get reborn in a slice-of-life anime? WHY DO I GET THE ONE WITH EVIL SNAKE MEN AND CHILD SOLDIERS AND CHAKRA NUKES?!
And… oh god. I'm… a girl.
I WAS NOT A GIRL LAST LIFE. THIS IS NEW. I DO NOT HAVE THE PATCH NOTES FOR THIS.
Also—also—if I'm Hinata Hyuga, I'm technically a princess?! I don't know whether to celebrate or panic harder—
The thoughts spiraled faster and faster.
Chakra. That energy was chakra. HAS to be. OH GOD I HAVE BEEN PLAYING WITH CHAKRA CHANNELS WITHOUT KNOWING—
What if I broke something?! What if I mutated?! What if I—
My tiny body trembled with the weight of the meltdown.
I felt dizzy.
Overwhelmed.
Exhausted.
And right as I reached peak existential crisis—
My energy reservoir gave out.
Darkness swallowed me whole.
I didn't even get to finish spiraling.
My body simply shut down, dropping me into unconsciousness.
End of Chapter 5.