No snappy quotes in this chapter. Sorry darlings. Maybe later though.

Summary: The Butterfly Effect dictates that the smallest pebble dropped into the ocean would create the greatest of tidal waves. How much change could one new life make, if added to a world it was never meant to be in? Self-Insert. OC.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Wait. I own this book that I bought off of Amazon. It is a wonderful book. I forget what it's called but it is wonderful. I think.

Warning: Nothing for this chapter. Character death, I suppose.

Beta: Kalafina94

Beta: silverseed

Edit: 1/1/2018

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Nao.

That was the name I was given in this world. The name that I had been called, the name I had responded to, the name I had worn for many years now.

It was as familiar to me as my old name was.

Though for the life of me I could no longer remember my old name. Come to think of it, I could scarcely remember anything else of the old me. In the beginning I could remember it with such clarity it pained me to be in that new, strange world. But now, I am afraid that me has long ago been forced to fade away with the other ghosts of my past.

The old me was—is—no longer needed and as such, she had left.

The new me, the current me, is the speaker of this story.

I had heard of others that have been put in my situation, vaguely recalling the stories and adventures they told. The hardships and scars they were forced to face; but, I had yet to meet another one in that world (in my world).

Perhaps I had missed them.

Perhaps I was merely alone in that fashion.

It mattered not, though, the rumors of others. Nothing could be changed or done with mere thoughts and speculations.

Something I had learned many times over in that (my) life.

I will spare you the horror of my birth into that world, as I had chosen to repress the memories of helplessness and fear.

I will spare you the first few months of my struggle with my frail, premature body in the hospital, where I was probed and poked out by creatures in white.

I will spare you the first two years of my life where I struggled with a rapidly decaying illness and miraculously recovered.

Instead, I will start with the day I was first brought home from that dreary place they dare refer to as a hospital.

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Snuggled in the warm blankets Momma had brought me, I was carefully carried in by Papa. My home—as they insisted I refer to it as—was large and strangely styled. I had never seen anything like it. I recalled vaguely there were whispers that referred to it as a compound or an estate.

Inside there were many people gathered, all of whom still looked so strange to me. There were a group of large people to my left, a group of dark haired people to my right and in the middle was an arrangement between blonde and orange.

I only recognized one face among the crowd of people inside the large room.

My older sister.

I could see now that there was a banner strung up behind the group of people. There was food—cake, ice cream, and colorful foods that I did not recognize—streamers, presents, all sorts of other goodies stacked around.

I was slightly overwhelmed and I curled into Papa.

Papa chuckled lightly, his strong arms moving to set me down on the ground.

I did not like that arrangement. I was not safe on the ground. I clutched the blankets around me, disliking how they were too big for me and slid off me.

That was when she came to me; a stumbling run of sorts, her face lit up with joy and her pale blonde hair shining in the light of the home.

"Nao-chan!" she exclaimed excitedly.

My face lit up as well, relief and happiness spreading across it as the familiar (safe) figure came towards me. Tiny arms wrapped around me, too small to engulf me and the large blankets. My arms were locked in the blankets and prevented me from hugging her as well.

I disliked that even more so.

I released my hold on my blankets, using my frail arms to wrap around her waist. I hugged my sister tightly.

When I released her, I glanced around to see all eyes on us. Different emotions flickered across their faces. For some, relief; others, joy. It was a strange sight to see such an array of emotions staring down at (me) us.

Confusion washed over my features and I turned towards Momma.

Momma always had answers to my questions.

She gave me a smile, but it was unlike the smile I had seen within the past two years. That smile was strained, tight, (broken) sad; whereas the current smile was warm and bright. My confusion doubled.

Momma was never so happy when she looked at me.

Carefully, she knelt down to my eye level. "Nao-chan, this is your birthday."

The language she spoke, so foreign to me at first, had become second nature to me now. Unlike usual, my mind did not need to forcefully think the words out to understand them.

"Okay," I said, having nothing else to say. Who cares if it was my birthday?

My sister hugged me again. "This is the first time y-you're home. 'Cause now y-you're all better."

I blinked my eyes owlishly at everyone. They continued to watch me.

Vaguely I got the impression they were calculating me, measuring me, placing me under a microscope and studying me. I felt so small under their gazes, so weak and helpless. My body was already frail from its fight with my disease, it could not take much more.

My cheeks warmed and my eyes trailed down.

"Okay," I mumbled, tugging at the blanket and beginning to wrap it around me again.

They chuckled at my actions, much to my displeasure.

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A month after my birthday party I found my sister outside with Papa in our large backyard (training grounds).

My blanket rested in my bed, where it would stay. Momma was unhappy that I lugged it around everywhere I went and dirtied it, but I argued with her that it made me feel safe. When questioned how it made me feel safe, I said it was the size and how I could fit into it and disappear.

In my blanket's place, she gave me a very large white hoodie. The sleeves were so long they dragged to the ground if I did not pick them up, the length of it so long it fell past my knees and the hood so wide my entire head was lost to it.

But I enjoyed it.

Momma enjoyed it as well. Despite it being white, it rarely was dirtied enough to be of notice. Momma had explained to me, when questioned, that it was made of a special chakra material.

That was my second clue to what world I had been born in (the first being the strange food, and language, along with strange clothing).

My sister was taking a stance, a familiar one (tai kwon do) and her face was mixed with displeasure and mild annoyance. She was covered in dried dirt along with a few bruises. In front of her, Papa stood with an amused smile and a relaxed stance.

I ran towards them, smiling widely. "Sister!"

My sister's face broke away from annoyance and into joy upon seeing me. She shot Papa a smug look before turning back to me and opening her arms. I kept running until I had entered them, wrapping my own arms around her.

"Wha' are you doing?" I asked, my voice muffled against her.

She smiled and pulled back. "Otou-san's making me train." Her face screwed up as if the word train was a bitter taste in her mouth. "He's been working me into the ground!"

I blinked up owlishly at my sister before turning to Papa. "Train?"

Papa gave me a smile. "Something you will do when you are older."

I blinked, taken aback by this answer. I looked between my sister and Papa, frowning. "But I wan' train now."

Worry crossed over Papa's face and he gave me a frown. "I do not think—"

"Why can't she train?" My sister folded her arms across her chest. "I could use the partner! I j-just began this stuff too, you know."

I looked back up at Papa, my eyes wide and pleading. I did not want to make my Papa uncomfortable, but the prospect of doing an activity with my dear sister—no matter how tedious or strenuous—seemed far more appealing than watching everyone move about their day alone.

I was rarely allowed to partake in many things around the house, either too small, young, or frail in their eyes. Momma would teach me all that she could in writing and reading, but I had already long since grasped those with ease.

Papa pursed his lips and gave a small nod. "A single spar. If—and I am emphasizing if here—you do well, then we may see if we can continue these lessons. But do not feel discouraged if you do not. Your sister is older than you and has been training in this longer than you—if only by a year."

I nodded my head firmly and smiled at my sister.

Papa glanced between the two of us. "Taijutsu only."

"Yeah, yeah," She said with a grin and wink at me. I giggled, my desire to please and impress my sister increasing.

Taijutsu...

The word was so familiar to me though. A strong sense of déjà vu washed over me from it, but for the life of me I could not place where I had heard it from. But it sounded similar to jujitsu. Perhaps Papa merely mispronounced the word?

Jujitsu. I was not familiar with the style, I only studied tae kwon do, not bothering to master the pins and defensive stances jujitsu normally dominated in.

My feet slid apart and my hands moved up into the familiar positions. A stance I had not taken in two years, at least. I was glad I could remember the basics of it. Even though my body did feel awkward in it, my mind told it otherwise.

Papa frowned, watching me carefully.

My sister seemed unperturbed by it though, taking another, different yet similar stance. At Papa's nod to begin, she rushed forward.

I inwardly frowned.

She had dropped her main style already, giving me a wide opening to attack. No wonder Papa was drilling her through stances; she had a horrid habit. For a flash, I felt fear and worry for my sister. What if she were in a real fight? She would lose and become injured with such a wide opening!

I snaked forward, my body angling towards her opening. My hands snapped forward, driving up in between her own sloppily held arms. I pushed her arms out and away, my left leg shooting forward and hooking around her right knee. I kicked it in, forcing her to fall towards me.

If she were to become injured, I would feel awful. She was my sister and I didn't want anything to happen to her. I wanted to protect her and keep her safe, as she had done for me the past two years. If Papa was teaching her how to fight this early, then he must have had a reason to. Papa never did anything without careful reasoning. If Papa thought she needed to learn to fight, then she needed to learn to fight. If she needed to learn to fight then she would, obviously, be in a fight.

My body twisted so my right arm hooked underneath her own right armpit. My body continued to turn, moving with her fall towards me and I pulled her right side over me. She landed with a thud on her back in front of me.

She stared up at me with wide eyes.

I looked down at her with concerned eyes.

"Sister?" I asked tentatively.

"That was awesome!" She burst out, quickly scrambling up to tackle me in a hug. "You're so amazing, Nao-chan. How did you do that? You have to show me—no wait, better idea. You have to show Otou-san. Ha! Otou-san can train you instead of me, how's that sound?"

I frowned. "But Sister, you nee' to learn to defend yourself."

Papa moved forward. "Your sister is right, Ino. As the clan heiress you must learn this. Inonao, excellent work."

At my real name, my frowned deepened. I did not like my birth name and preferred that everyone called me Nao.

Ino pouted slightly but didn't seemed actually put off. "But Nao-chan was great, right Otou-san? Does that mean she can train with us too? Please?"

My eyes widened at the prospect of permanently training with my sister. A smile lit up my face and I looked eagerly at Papa. Papa eyed us both before chuckling and holding up his hands in surrender. "Alright. It's clear Nao is adept in taijutsu, at the very least. Let's move on to chakra, shall we?"

I blinked.

That... sounded even more familiar.

I frowned, an odd thought wiggling through me. "Papa? Where do we live?"

Papa smiled at me. "The Village Hidden in the Leaves, dear."

Oh.

Wait.

What?

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And so concludes the first chapter for Nao. 

The Question: For those of you new to my stories, I will have a question for (you) the readers at the end of every chapter. I had seen some of my favorite writers do this and it seemed like a fun thing to do. You don't need to answer the question(s) if you don't want to.

My question is, if you were reborn into the Narutoverse, what family would you want to belong to?

Reviews are love.