"I died to a truck named 'Truck-kun' and maybe an insane barista? What the actual fuck."
Amara Paice was an average, anime-loving child. Or as average as a child can be when most of her town avoids her because of a birthmark on her shoulder that she...
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~🌖🌕🌔~ ~
~5 years old~
"Big Sister!"
A small but excited voice filled the room as two small hands gripped the blanket I was currently hiding under. The said blanket was easily ripped off of my small form causing me to shiver as the cold air brushed over me. I winced before lazily opening my eyes, letting them adjust to the dark room before turning them to the little girl in front of me.
I weakly smiled at my small energetic sister, ruffling her hair. A lot has happened in the time span of a few years. I'm now five years old and more aware of where I was reborn. I've been reborn into a series called Naruto. It took me years to get my head wrapped around the thought but after a solid year or two, I got used to it.
I've been gifted with 2 amazing siblings both of them being twins and younger than me by a year and a half. They both looked almost identical despite them being opposite genders and to say I was attached was an understatement. I absolutely adored the two even if they looked mostly like our father.
Our father is the complete opposite of what I thought he would be at first glance. He was neglectful Lil shit besides when it came to training or education. It makes me feel a lot more thankful that he stays out running the clan than stays home with us.
Our mother however was completely the opposite. She was kind, understanding, and in all just loving. I sometimes wonder why she married our father out of all the kind people in the clan.
With that all said and done, Let's get back to the present. My younger sister, Christa, bounced in her spot. Her hands gripped my blanket tightly in excitement causing me to chuckle at her. I quickly sat up, stretching out my back as my face scrunched up as I released a yawn.
I pushed the remainder of the blanket off my body, swiftly sliding out of the bed. As the 4-year-old looked up at me expectantly, I swiftly picked her up supporting her weight on my hip. She hooked her arms around my neck as I made my way into our shared bathroom. Sitting her down on the counter, I glanced beside me catching sight of the other twin, Chris, standing on a footstool still in his pajamas.
Despite sharing a room with our energetic sister that woke up at ungodly hours such as 1 in the morning and wouldn't care who she awoke, he always found a way to sleep in and avoid his twin's wrath.
The said boy fumbled with the toothbrush, eventually placing it in his mouth. He directed his attention to me as his eyes brightened. I sent him a warm smile before grabbing a brush. I began to brush through the young girl's hair, untangling it. I quickly finished the job, setting her down on the floor before directing my attention to both of the twins as they looked up at me.
