Lin glanced at her watch. The hour hand was already pointing to eleven.
Outside the window, the rain drummed relentlessly against the glass like countless tiny fingers tapping without pause.
She sighed heavily and downed the last gulp of cold coffee. The bitter taste spread across her tongue like punishment.
"Lin, this report is needed for tomorrow morning's 9 a.m. meeting. You must finish revising it tonight."
Her supervisor, Sister Li, slapped a stack of documents onto her desk. The scarlet polish on her nails glinted sharply under the fluorescent lights.
"But Sister Li, it's Qingming Festival today…"
"The company doesn't pay you to go on vacation!" Sister Li cut her off impatiently. "Director Wang specifically named you for this project. Don't be ungrateful."
She took a long look at Lin's pale face and silently scoffed—Tch, vixen. Still playing the innocent act after three nights of overtime? Who are you trying to seduce?
Lin clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.
She had been working overtime for three days straight.
Last year, she missed seeing her grandmother one final time because of another "urgent project." Her phone was off the whole time.
And now, on Qingming Festival again...
Sister Li's heels clicked rhythmically across the floor as she walked away, each thunk stabbing at Lin's fraying nerves.
The harsh blue light of the monitor stung her tired eyes. The office was silent now, the central heating had long stopped, and the damp chill seeped in through every crack.
She pulled her thin blazer tighter and continued typing mechanically.
At 1:27 a.m., she finally saved the last file.
Rubbing her itchy, dry eyes, she carefully tucked the USB into her bag.
The elevator descended to the lobby—empty.
She pushed open the glass doors, and cold raindrops immediately pelted her face.
"Damn it, it's still raining…"
She hadn't brought an umbrella, nor did she have a car.
Her phone showed there were 87 people in the ride queue. Walking home would take only 20 minutes. She grit her teeth, raised her bag over her head, and dashed into the downpour.
Rain soaked through her blouse in seconds. Her heels splashed into puddles, icy dirty water seeping into her stockings, slick and cold.
As she rounded a corner, she heard it—a faint sob in the storm.
She froze, knees going weak.
A rainy night, Qingming Festival, and someone crying alone on the street?
It was textbook horror setup.
She pulled her bag over her face and pretended not to hear a thing.
"Wow, the rain is really heavy. I need to hurry home," she muttered to herself, ignoring the crying and forcing her jelly-like legs to move.
Then—the sobbing abruptly stopped.
A chill shot down her spine.
Eyes shut tight, she screamed and bolted forward blindly.
Which is why she didn't see the open manhole ahead.
Her foot plunged straight into the pitch-black hole.
There was only time for a single scream before she tumbled into the darkness.
The fall seemed endless.
Then—nothing but pain and blackness.
Somewhere in the haze, she vaguely heard shouting.
"Someone! Help! Someone fell into the sewer! What do we do?!"
Oh, she thought. So it wasn't a ghost after all… Just a random crying person in the rain in the middle of the night. Who does that?!
---
"I can't believe I actually fell into a sewer because I got scared… I refuse to accept this!!!"
That was Lin's final coherent thought.
---
A soft, warm light tugged her consciousness back.
She tried to open her eyes but her vision was foggy.
She instinctively attempted to curl up, but her limbs wouldn't respond.
Muffled voices floated around her, like hearing through frosted glass.
"Kenichi-san, congratulations—it's a healthy baby girl."
"R-Really?"
The man's voice trembled with a deep sorrow.
He didn't even glance at the newborn in his arms.
His eyes were locked on the figure beneath the white sheet.
"Misaki… she's really…"
"We're sorry. The bleeding was too severe. We did all we could…"
"…sob…sob…"
The weeping faded as Lin drifted back into sleep.
---
When she woke again, she felt herself being gently lifted by a pair of large, rough hands.
She forced her eyes open, but only blurred light filled her view.
Piecing together what little she could understand, she came to a conclusion:
Oh. I've been reborn.
And my mom died giving birth to me.
Fantastic. Let me just die again, thanks.
Difficulty: Hell Mode.
---
Hanabuchi Kenichi, a Special Jonin of the Hidden Leaf Village, skilled in sensory tracking and trap-setting,
was currently panicking as he fumbled with a diaper.
"Now now, Rin-chan, hold still… Wait—!"
Smack!
Baby Rin kicked her new dad in the face and rolled her mental eyes.
Ugh. No. Just—NO.
---
Discharged from the hospital, Kenichi stood outside their home with the swaddled infant in his arms, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Misaki… What am I supposed to do?"
The house was silent. She was gone.
He took a deep breath, swallowed his grief, and rocked the baby awkwardly.
"Rin-chan, Daddy's going to try his best…"
Thus began Rin's chaotic baby life:
At 3 a.m., Kenichi spilled formula everywhere and scalded his hand.
He constantly put diapers on backwards.
During bath time, he nearly dropped her into the tub and had to grab her by the ankle in a panic.
Rin: gurgle gurgle
Seriously. Someone just let me die already.
This idiotic dad is going to kill me someday.
---
A month later, Kenichi finally got the hang of the basics.
He learned how to:
Use chakra to sense the perfect water temperature (thanks, sensory jutsu!)
Lull Rin to sleep with a single-hand Wind Release—which accidentally puffed her hair straight up, and he laughed like a fool
Apply trap-building logic to child-proof the house with padding and barriers
Despite having the mind of an adult, Rin still couldn't escape the chaos.
It wasn't that she was a difficult baby—just that Kenichi was hopelessly inexperienced.
Still, after a month of chaos, she finally figured it out—
She'd transmigrated into the Naruto world.
Of all the anime she'd watched, this was easily the one with the highest body count.
Is falling into a sewer after overtime not bad enough? Now she have to live through Naruto?
Rin: sighs~
"Awww, my baby's sighing. So cute~ How can a baby be this adorable? Daddy's gonna smooch you—mwah mwah mwah~"
Rin: …
She give up.
---
One night, after finally coaxing her dad to sleep, Rin was awakened by soft sobbing.
Through the crib bars, she saw Kenichi kneeling before a photo of his late wife, shoulders trembling under the moonlight.
He looked utterly alone.
Something in Rin's chest twisted.
She let out a loud baby "Yaaah!" and Kenichi scrambled to wipe his tears.
"Rin-chan? Daddy's here. Did you pee? Let me see—"
Sigh.
Okay, okay. You're pitiful. I'll reluctantly accept being your daughter.
---
Time passed, and Rin grew older.
At one, she finally learned to walk.
Kenichi wept with joy—then tripped over her toy and landed face-first on the floor.
A Special Jonin, taken down by a baby toy. If the Hokage knew, he'd probably revoke his ninja license.
After Rin could walk and talk, she became impressively self-sufficient.
But to take care of her, Kenichi had taken extended leave. And since ninja don't get paid time off, after a year of expenses, their savings had completely dried up.
With no choice, he entrusted Rin to the neighbors and returned to mission work.
Their time together shrank drastically.
Every time he came home, he'd clutch Rin and sob about how much he missed her.
To which Rin could only pat his face with her tiny hand and say in her soft baby voice:
"Enough. Idiot."
Kenichi: "How could you say that?!"
---