Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was warmth. Wet, hot warmth.

Sasha drifted in it, half-asleep, half-aware, suspended in a dreamlike fog that tugged at her eyelids and kept her safe. It was comfortable. Familiar. Soft in a way that made the edges of her thoughts blur. She didn’t think much at all first really, mostly because thinking was hard, like trying to hold sand, the tighter you held the more escaped between your fingers, like dreams were, it was elusive.

There was just warmth and darkness, no dreams to break the gentle oblivion.

And then, one day—light.

Painful, intrusive, horrible light.

Sasha tried to scream at the betrayal. Or maybe she did scream, but it was weak and reedy, like a deflated balloon being aggressively squeezed. Air burned going into her tiny, fragile lungs, and—

Wait. Why did her lungs feel tiny? Why did her Everything feel tiny? Like her soul was too big for her body and her veins were straining to keep the precious life's blood inside-

Something big loomed over her. Big hands, bigger than a person should have, wrapped her up in something soft. Voices murmured in a language she couldn’t understand, their sounds dipping and rising in sharp, unfamiliar cadences.

A woman sobbed in the background.

Fear prickled under her skin, cold and creeping.

She tried to think. 'Where was she? Who were these people? Why was the air so very thick-?'

She tried to remember—

Nothing came.

Panic swelled in her throat. Her limbs flailed weakly, her fingers curling, too small, Too Small —This wasn’t right, this wasn’t her body, she wasn’t supposed to be—

Someone shushed her.

A firm, too big hand patted her back with heavy "thumps", like Sasha was some kind of malfunctioning appliance.

Her brain fizzled out as foreign warmth tugged her under the currents, the heat in her veins feeling like hot tar.

Then came exhaustion. The kind that reached into her bones, grabbed hold, and yanked her deep into the black.

And so, Sasha slept.

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Things Sasha had learned so far:

1. She was a baby. (This was deeply offensive.)
2. She was a baby in an uber-traditional Japanese household. (Why. Why did this happen to her.)
3. She did not speak A Single Sentence of Japanese past food names. (And penis. Because? Because.)
4. Everyone kept calling her "Itama-sama."
5. She was Going to Die.
6. Her new mother and father were MIA and the nursemaid(?) hated her.

Sasha had read enough bad isekai to recognize the signs. She knew, deep in the core of warmth in her belly, that she had been reborn into some kind of historical Japan rip-off. But there were problems. Many, many problems, each worse than the last.

For one, she couldn't even lift her own head. And thus had to be carried everywhere. (She's been nearly dropped on her head twice now, she was going to cry out of anxiety.)

Her vision was blurry. She had the cognitive abilities of a half-boiled egg. All her instincts screamed at her to Sleep, Eat, and Cry, and she had absolutely No Control over it.

The worst part? The language barrier.

Her past life had been full of dubbed anime and Google Translate, but none of that was helpful when she was a freshly hatched infant who couldn't even hold her own drool inside her mouth. (Sasha knew 4 Germanic derived languages, and 1 Latin one. All to not learn a new alphabet. See what good that did her now? She shouldn't have stuck with learning Greek even if life was too short to learn its writing system- at least then she'd know where to start in learning Kanji!)

When the Very Big People (because everyone here was HUGE—seriously, did they feed their kids steroids? Weren't Asians stereotypically short-?) spoke, the sounds blurred together in a meaningless garble, too many 'i's and though she was familiar with the accent due to anime, it wasn't all that helpful. But the same words kept coming up whenever someone looked at her:

"Itama-sama."

Itama-sama.

Itama.

It was her new name.

Sasha was Itama now.

And Itama—She—was Screwed.

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Sasha was hungry all the time.

Like, it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t a cute baby appetite. It was ravenous, horrible, constant hunger. The kind that made her want to gnaw on her own fist just to distract herself from the emptiness in her stomach.

And worst of all, she couldn't Do anything about it. She had to Wait for the nursemaid to bring food.

Sasha hated waiting.

So, she did the only thing she could do while worryingly left alone to her own devices in a baby proofed only because there was almost Nothing in it room: Sasha crawled.

At first, it was wobbly. But every time she toppled over, it was only her sheer rage that picked her up and carried her forward. Within days, she had mastered crawling with the feral determination of an escaped zoo animal. (Mostly because there was nothing else to do and the burning muscles distracted from the burning stomach.)

It seemed to be a huge house with huge halls from the glimpses she caught outside her room when the maid came and went. Wooden floors. The walls slid open and shut. No windows, just thin rice-paper walls and doors.

Traditional Japanese architecture? her newborn brain wondered idly.

That was when it hit her.

There were no Modern things here.

No electricity. No lights.

No Toilet Paper.

She almost wept.

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The... Pecker problem came all too soon.

Sasha discovered she had a penis in the most unfortunate way.

One morning, she woke up, stretched, felt something weird between her legs, and immediately froze in dread.

She stared down in abject half-asleep horror as the nursemaid changed her cloth nappy.

There. Sitting smugly on her own body, like it had always been there. Like it belonged.

She was a boy now.

She screamed internally.

This was, without a doubt, the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

(And yes, she had been reincarnated as a baby in feudal Japan and couldn’t understand anyone, but This? This was the real crisis.)

She had been a proud owner of tits in her past life. She had been Sasha. Now, she was Itama, a boy, with a tiny little—

She shoved the thought away before her brain could complete it.

Not for the first time, she genuinely, desperately wanted to crawl back into the womb.

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She was determined.

If she was stuck here, she was going to learn the language.

Her nursemaid (an impatient, long-suffering woman who never answered her existential screaming) spoke to her a lot. So Sasha started listening. Picking up words.

By the end of the month, she could say exactly one thing.

"Ore wa dekai chinchin ga arimasu."

("I have a big dick.")

She was so proud of herself.

Her nursemaid however, was Not.

Sasha was pretty sure the woman considered dropping her down a well.

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Boredom was the real enemy.

She had no books, no entertainment, nothing except a futon and her rapidly unraveling sanity. But she did have something else. (Probably Schizophrenia.)

The Warmth inside her, too rough for her baby veins and too heavy for the core in her stomach, throwing her balance off way too much.

Sasha could 'feel' people moving through the house. Their warmth. Their presence like frog lights drifting with the tide of life. It was fascinating.

And then, one day, she got really, really, Really Bored. (She's losing her mind thinking she can feel some kind of magic in the air, suffocating her and fanning the flames of the heavy warmth inside of her-)

So, Sasha embraced her trip to the medieval madhouse and focused on the warmth inside herself. Pulled at it. Twisted it. Gnawed on it with figurative teeth and Pushed it out.

And then—

A mushroom grew on her hand, hair-like roots tangled in her fingers

Sasha stared at it.

The mushroom stared back.

She wanted to cry.

She wanted to laugh.

She wanted to slam her head into the wall until things made sense again.

Because this was it.

This was her isekai superpower.

She could grow magic mushrooms like some sort of gloomy side character.

She was going to die.

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So. The food issue has been sorted.

The magic mushrooms were, in fact not the drug type to see the secrets of the universe (Unfortunately) but the regular button mushroom type. (Fortunately)

Sasha has found an infinite snack source achievement unlockedTM.

But seriously, it seems infinite? From what she can tell, it draws from the grain in her veins that in turn draws from the lead in her stomach, which was honestly such a relief man. Sasha had grown used to the heavy borderline painful feeling by now, especially the thickness in the air but sometimes the lead would turn to tungsten and the overflow in her veins would squeeze until she'd throw up.

But now? Two birds with one stone! She'd get infinite snacks to keep her poor belly from turning her spit into acid and she'd lessen the pressure of this world's magic. Sasha is so smart for real, for real.

The sensing of other's didn't really take magic either, it was more along the lines of feeling weights on a blanket rolling around (Sasha is the blanket and other people are the weights in this case.) than actual magic spells or whatever.

She keeps the mushrooms from the nursemaid out of pettiness though. Lady's been one mean bitch recently, always snapping and snarling in Sasha's direction for reasons unknown ala language barrier.

Screw her though, Sasha's got magic mushrooms and she doesn't so take that.

Chapter Text

Sasha has learned many things in her (eyeballed) six months of life.

1. She is getting Too Big Too Fast.
Her limbs aren’t proportioned like a normal baby’s should be. At six months, she should be squishy and round, a cherub-faced little goblin with zero muscle definition. Instead, she looks like a one-year-old. A big one. Her fingers are too long, her bones too solid. She’s not just getting taller—she’s getting built.

This is concerning.

2. The magic in her veins doesn’t like staying still.
She’s figured out (obviously) that the warmth in her belly—the same warmth that grew that first fateful mushroom— isn’t normal (subjective, what counts as 'normal' magic?). It sloshes around, uncomfortably heavy, and if she doesn’t do something with it, she starts feeling pressure. The worst kind. The kind that makes her stomach churn and her ears ring and her head feel two seconds away from imploding into a gorey mushroom soup colored red.

It only eases up when she uses it. Which is why she keeps growing mushrooms.

Which brings us to point 3.

3. Her mushrooms are getting out of control.
It started small. A little shiitake here, a baby portobello there. Normal, manageable fungi.

Then came the soccer ball-sized shiitake.

Sasha had decided that after a painful night of nausea and heartburn to screw it all and pump magic into a single mushroom until the headache disappeared, the consequences of which she had to hide it from the nursemaid for Two Whole Days before she could finish eating it.

She had no choice but to bury it like a bloody dog does to their bones under her futon, gnawing on it at night like some kind of deranged mushroom goblin-dog thing, and nearly cried when she took the last bite in a fit of toddler hysteria.

The worst part? It was fucking delicious.

Erm. Anyways. Next point.

4. Sasha is a mushroom encyclopedia now.
Because what else is she supposed to do with her time huh?

Her options for entertainment at present were:
- Stare at the ceiling beams
- Crawl/Toddle around the empty room until she faceplants
- Have an existential crisis about her stolen adulthood
- Study the mushrooms like a lunatic scientist she never got to be in the Before

So, she does. Making up for lost time and allat jazz.

She’s figured out she can grow:
- Shiitake (Her favorite. Smoky, meaty, perfect for gnawing on at 2 AM while contemplating all her bad pre-life decisions like that one nasty ex-friend of hers.)
- Button Mushrooms (Nice subtle flavor and uncomplicated. Good base food to pair with other mushrooms in a demented sandwich.)
- Oyster Mushrooms (Texturally weird, but still edible. Great in theory, but she’s never had a frying pan in this godforsaken room, so she wouldn’t know.)
- Porcini (A luxury mushroom. If she had butter and garlic, she could be making fine dining cuisine. Instead, she’s raw-dogging this shit like a caveman.)

And then there's the... weird ones.

One of them Glows fucking Blue.

(She’s pretty sure it’s from Skyrim. It makes her bones feel awesome after eating it.)

Another one is red-capped with white spots, straight out of a fairytale. Probably poisonous. Sasha is... Not testing that theory.

5. Magic mushrooms are great, but you know what would be better? A hamburger.
Or literally any real food. Sasha craves Fat. Oil. Grease. Seasonings. Her diet is 90% mushrooms and 10% whatever bland baby gruel the nursemaid forces on her. She would kill a man for a bucket of fries.

She has tried—desperately—to alter the taste of her mushrooms.

Her first experiment was simple: Make a mushroom taste like coffee.

It didn’t work.

Her second experiment: Make a mushroom taste like cheese.

Also a failure.

The third, most desperate attempt: Make a mushroom taste like bubblegum.

It... Kind of worked?

The result was an oddly sweet, spongey green mushroom that tasted vaguely of artificial fruit but also very much like fungus. It was, without a doubt, the worst thing she has ever eaten.

Sasha cried a little that day.

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The Nursemaid is a Bitch.

Sasha isn’t sure why.

She used to think it was just general baby-related resentment. That was understandable. Babies were loud, messy, and inconvenient. If Sasha had to take care of a screaming infant, she’d probably hate them too.

But this feels… Personal.

The woman never outright hurts her, but the little things add up. The sharper-than-necessary cloth wipes. The cold, clipped way she speaks. The scowl whenever she brings food.

Sasha doesn’t know why the woman resents her, but she does.

And honestly? Sasha can take a lot but not even Stockholm syndrome will keep her from resenting her right back.

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There is Something huge outside her room.

She’s been sensing people for a while now, as previously mentioned.

The warmth inside her lets her feel them—moving weights pressing against the fabric of reality.

Most people are small flames instead of suns meant to be orbited, flickering and shifting. She can tell when the nursemaid is nearby. She can feel the guards(?) passing through the halls, the distant hum of life moving around her.

But there is something else.

Something huge.

A massive, tree-like sunny warmth that keeps lingering near her room.

It always gets dragged away by something else before it can come too close though.

A lake-like presence, deep and vast, intercepting the tree every time.

Sasha is... Slightly aware that she's not supposed to be noticing this.

But she does anyways because life hates her.

So... Sasha has questions.

1. Who—or what—the hell is the tree?
2. Who—or what—the hell is the lake?
3. Why does the tree keep coming back?
4. Is she going to die?

...Probably.

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So, in conclusion (maybe, how do scientific thesis even work-?):

Sasha’s life is an existential nightmare.

She is too big, too hungry, too full of mushroom magic, and now there is a magic tree man trying to break into her room while a lake monster keeps fighting him off.

But the most important issue?

She still hasn’t figured out how to make mushrooms taste like a bubblegum milkshake.

And that is the greatest tragedy of all.

Chapter Text

The Tree broke in today.

And by that, Sasha meant that the massive, sun-bright, tree-like warmth that had been lurking outside her room for weeks finally barreled through the door like the Kool-Aid Man, but with significantly more ninja bullshit.

Sasha, mid-mushroom chew, nearly choked to death.

Because suddenly, there was a fucking person which wasn't the nursemaid in her room.

A child, which was technically better than an axe-wielding serial killer, but Only barely.

He was... Too big, too solid, built like a toddler version of Hercules for a boy that looked pre-teen. His... Kimono? Yamanaka(?) was a little fancier than the nursemaid’s, his bowl-cut brown hair an unfortunate choice, and his... "Magic Aura" for lack of better description felt like a motherfucking tree had just up and walked inside Sasha's room.

This was it.

This was how she died a second time.

Sasha watched, in numb horror, as the kid waltzed up to her, his ridiculous tree magic aura flaring wildly around him like some kind of warm, leafy embrace, and then—

The he-

...Dumped a pile of shit in front of her?

Some flowers, what looked like rock salt and-

And- What the Actual Fuck?

Sasha blinked.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

She stared at the knife.

Then at the salty flowers.

Then back at the knife.

Then, finally, at the boy himself.

He was... Grinning at her.

Sasha’s eye twitched.

Because, Sasha repeats: What the Fuck.

Why did this Child have a knife?
Why was he Giving it to her? Another child, practically a newborn may she add-
Was this some kind of... Of- tiny midgets Yakuza induction ceremony?

Oh god was the reason this place was so ancient traditional-like because her new family were organized crime? WAS SHE GOING TO HAVE TO LEARN HOW TO CUT COKE-?!

The boy plopped down beside her, utterly unbothered by the fact that he had just committed breaking and entering, introducing her to newfound existential dread, horror and panic and proceeded to Start. Babbling.

Loudly.

Rapidly.

In full, unfiltered Japanese that Sasha understood exactly 3% of past her ongoing melt down about the pros and cons about how she'd probably be roped into growing actual Magic Mushrooms and not magic because she has magic but magic because they were DRUGS-

"Itama!" The boy beamed, gesturing to her with frankly Alarming enthusiasm for a yakuza child who carries and gifts toddlers fucking Throwing Knives.

Sasha, still staring at the expensive, professional looking knife, very slowly looked back up at him.

She got nothing from the next sentence except "Otouto" and "Onii-chan."

Okay.

Okay, wait a fucking moment.

"Otouto" meant little brother.
"Onii-chan" meant big brother.

…Was he calling Himself her big brother?

Her big brother was in the Yakuza at the ripe age of fucking 6 or however old this brat was?

Sasha narrowed her eyes. (Don't ask her what color, probably hazel like bowl-cut's if he was really her brother.)

The nursemaid Never mentioned any fucking siblings.

...Granted, Sasha barely understood anything past how to say slurs but honestly that's all a person really needs, what more could you ask for-?

Sasha cautiously raised a hand, poking at the kid’s very Solid arm... Too solid. Bro. Sasha is going to weep why are children here so built-?

Jacked, bowl-cutted and creepy probably older brother giggled.

No.

No, that wasn’t normal.

No Normal human being could giggle like That while looking like That and still be taken seriously.

Sasha decided, right then and there, that this was not a real person.

This was some kind of- of Wood Spirit, sent by a vengeful deity to haunt her ass for kicking the emperor's puppy in a past life.

Which would explain the tree-like magic, the excessive warmth, and the fact that his stupidly creepy grin that was somehow immune to physics and logic.

Sasha was so bewildered honestly that she didn’t even react when the boy suddenly lunged forward, smooshed his entire fucking face against hers in what she assumed was a kiss, and then—

Bolted...?

Like Full on sprinted.

Straight out the still open door like the hounds of hell were on his ass.

Which, honestly?

Maybe they were.

Because not even two seconds later, a new, much sharper presence slammed into existence, fast as a goddamn bullet.

Sasha’s instincts screamed 'Danger' just as a flash of white blurred past the doorway, chasing after the fleeing bowl-cut menace at breakneck speed.

Sasha blinked.

Then blinked again.

And then, finally—

She looked down at the knife.

Still in front of her.

Right where the tiny tree demon had left it.

Her first words in this new life were a heartfelt:

"…What the actual fuck just happened."

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Sasha contemplates violence... Just a bit.

Because here’s the thing.

Sasha does Not like being confused. It leaves a bad taste in her mouth and an anxious heart in ass-hole feeling in it's wake.

And yet, here she was, all of six months old, holding a fucking knife, a half-eaten mushroom still in her other hand, with No answers.

None.

Zero.

Only questions.

1. Who the fuck was that probably demon probably yakuza child?
2. What kind of batshit universe did she get Isekai'ed into?
3. Why did he kiss her and flee like a cowardly cryptid?
4. WHO THE FUCK GIVES A BABY A KNIFE.

Sasha groaned, flopping back onto her futon, thoroughly done with everyone and everything.

The knife was still there.

The salty flowers were still there.

She picked one up, sniffed it, and decided fuck it, if it was cocaine it was cocaine and- the salt was actually sugar.

Then, slowly, she lifted the knife.

It was rather small, but in her tiny hand huge, and it's edges looked wickedly sharp.

It felt... a bit too comfortable in her hands, like it belonged there.

Which was alarming for So Many Reasons.

Sasha let out a long, slow breath.

Then took another bite of her mushroom.

Which, now that she thought about it—

Tasted a little bit like chicken.

…Huh.

Chapter Text

Sasha was hungry.

Like, ravenous.

Like, if she didn’t eat something not fungus soon, she was going to Commit a fucking CrimeTM.

The nursemaid— the absolute bitch —had not fed her gross veggy slop today.

She had come into the room, scowled, cleaned up a bit, still scowling like someone pissed in her tea then shat all over the carpet and then- the just Left! Without so much as a spoon of baby gruel!

Sasha had waited.

And Waited.

And then, finally, she said fuck this.

Sasha was Not about to die of starvation (Shut up so what if she can magic up her own food? That's not the point here.) in some fancy-ass Yakuza house while bowl-cut tree-demon child and his mystery lake monster friend were running around wreaking havoc or whatever they did when now playing keep-away-from-Sasha.

So, she had a PlanTM.

Step 1: Eat a truffle, because fuck you, that's why

Step 2: Fuck off into the sunset.

The door was open anyways, just a crack, barely noticeable, but unlocked nonetheless.

This was The MomentTM.

Sasha shoved the last bite of her luxurious black truffle snack (that she had never bothered to buy in her past life from the vague flashes she could remember, for some reason or another?) into her mouth and toddled her way to freedom.

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Observation 1: This House is Ridiculous.

The hallways stretched on for what seemed like forever. Winding weirdly until dead ends or sometimes just straight up seemed like Sasha was walking in one of those weird dreams where you move forward but never actually make any progress? (Sasha wrote those off as magic bullshit and moved on.)

Sasha wasn’t sure if magic Yakuza houses were just bigger on the inside or if she was just a shitty navigator, (probably both) but this place was confusing as trying to learn coding from scratch without any source reference.

The paper screen walls were painted with intricate scenes though, battlefields, towering trees, a lot of people with swords looking very Cool and ImportantTM.

Which, okay, weird flex, but alright. You do you my guy. If I had the organized crime money I'd probably add that to my house too.

The floors were polished wood, smooth under her bare feet and the doors were all sliding panels, mostly closed, which was kind of infuriating because she was still a tad too weak to push them open, magic mushroom baby or no.

Sasha passed what looked like a kitchen (empty, also too short to reach the pantry door).
A sitting room (empty beside the expensive looking pottery).
A weird little shrine thing (also empty beside the paintings of like 3 different women).

...Where the fuck was everyone???

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Observation 2: This (Crack)House Has a Courtyard

Sasha stumbled into it by pure coincidence, honest.

One moment, she was following the flow of fresh air a bit heavier with magic than the usual stale air of her room, and the next—

Wham bam, thank you ma'am.

Garden.

A huge, gorgeous courtyard, framed by wooden walkways and tall, sweeping trees that looked like a cross between willows, wisterias and lilac. They also looked better taken care of than Sasha probably did.

There were actual koi ponds, ornate stone lanterns, and an honest to god gazebo in the middle too, like this was some kind of fancy-ass samurai movie set. (Did Yakuza have the cash for all this? How much coke did these people Sell?!)

Sasha, for a moment, forgot her mission, her hunger, her general existential horror.

Because koi.

Sasha loved koi.

Big, fat, colorful fish, swimming lazily through crystal-clear water like the beautiful bastards they were-

Wait.

Why was there... Movement in the gazebo???

Sasha squinted.

There were two people in there.

And they were—

Oh.

Oh God.

OH GOD.

Sasha, a six-month-old child with the mind of a grown adult, had just walked in on the nursemaid getting railed.

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Sasha's first instinct was to fucking die.

Her second instinct was to turn around and erase this from her memory forever, via head smashing if possible.

The third instinct was to immediately start praying for the first time in both of her lives.

"Sweet Baby Jesus Wept."

The words came out before she could even think to stop them- a barely audible whisper, but still.

The nursemaid's head snapped up.

Sasha made eye contact with the woman. Didn't even try to look like she hadn't just caught the nasty woman pants down with some bald dude who hadn't caught on yet.

And that was when Sasha felt it.

A wave of magic, massive and unmistakably familiar, surging toward her like heaven sent tsunami. Maybe Sasha should make an effort to be more faithful in this life if she got answered like this.

Sasha had never been more grateful for tree-demon child in her LIFE. (What do you mean she met him two days ago? That doesn't matter-)

Because not even two seconds later, a blur of brown and white crashed into the courtyard like a bull through a china shop.

Tree Bro.

Sasha’s new Favorite person in the entire world.

...Not that she knows a lot of people in this world. But the sentiment stands.

The bowl-cut demon spawn himself.

Except this time, instead of grinning like an idiot, his expression was pretty intense.

The nursemaid barely had time to yank her robes up before he was on her ass. (Figuratively. Bro can't be more than 10 or Sasha'll eat ten of those white specked red mushrooms that were most certainly poisonous.)

Words. Many, many words.

Rapid Japanese.

Sharp, angry, disappointed words.

Sasha caught her name and something along the lines of dick and... Rice balls? ...That can't be right...

"Itama."

The nursemaid flinched like she got a stick rammed up her ass. Which... A side eye was spared for Baldy kneeling next to Nursemaid.

Sasha, for the first time in her entirely too short, miserable existence, felt powerful.

She did not know what was being said, but she knew exactly what was happening.

Tree-demon child was scolding the shit out of this woman.

Sasha, ever the petty gremlin, gave the nursemaid the most smug baby look she could muster. Horns and a tail were probably magicked up around her.

The nursemaid looked like she wanted to throw Sasha into the koi pond.

Which was fair.

But Sasha was far too busy basking in her victory to care. Get wrecked noob.

Until—

Sasha was suddenly being picked up by tree-demon who was still yapping a mile a minute.

And then—

Passed to someone else.

Sasha froze.

Because the person now holding her felt very, very different from the leafy green sunshine of bowl-cut.

Colder and sharper. Like ice-water and distant thunder.

Sasha turned her head.

And came face-to-face with a new child. (Christ what's with all the children in this Yakuza mansion?)

He was smaller than Sasha's maybe older brother, but only barely so.

White-haired and Red-eyed. Expression mostly neutral, though looked a bit wild around the eyes.

Sasha, for a brief moment, thought:

This was the lake monster and he was going to fucking bite Sasha or something and she'd have to find rabies shots somewhere in this god forsaken probably feudal Japan place.

Tree-Demon said something else as he was quickly bumped back down the favorability scale for handing her over to this feral looking child.

The white-haired boy frowned as her for a long moment, red eyes definitely a sign of his chronic wasting disease status.

And then—

The little shit sighed.

Like this was the most exhausting thing that had ever happened to him.

Sasha, contemplated if getting infected with a prion disease was worth biting Lake-monster before he could bite her.

Chapter Text

Sasha had expected to be dragged back to her room after the whole... nursemaid-fucking-in-the-garden, debacle. (Sasha will be traumatized for days to come before she inevitably forgets only to be reminded when she sees the woman again.)

She was wrong.

Tree-Kid, Sasha's maybe-brother, who seemed a bit too obnoxiously powerful in tree-aura magic, emotionally volatile, and unnervingly fast- (this was a worrying combination for a kid who breaks into her room and hands her, a toddler, weapons) was... Not taking her back to her room?

(On an unrelated note, said weapon was in the band of Sasha's nappy, just for in case anybody tries anything. Or if Sasha's yet undiscovered parents barge in and demand she cut cocaine, you know, like a normal drug lord family does... How does one cut cocaine again-?)

Instead, he and his white-haired counterpart had made off with her like two criminals arguing over the spoils of a heist.

And Sasha, the accursed loot in this case.

She had no say in the matter either. None. Nada. Zilch. Other ajectives along those lines.

She wasn’t even sure if they were arguing or just.. Had a really aggressive way of communicating with the pitch of their "i"s, but there was an obvious tension in how the two held themselves, which really didn't suit what looked like kids younger than a can of peaches, built like brick shithouses or no.

They moved really quickly for how short their legs were too, each step so silent that Sasha might’ve thought they were ghosts if it weren’t for Red-eye's very real grip on her. Oh and the magic aura. Can't forget about the weird mesh of tree-water sloshing around them like a demented swamp. No sir-e. If Sasha was thinking tree-boy could dent the ground around them the first time they met, then bowl-cut and red-eyes could start their own mine shaft right there in the hallway.

Well, at least it wasn't Tree-Kid that was gripping her.

Tree-Kid was just Trying to grab her a hold of her in those little bodybuilder T-rex arms of his.

But luckily (or unluckily) he was being physically blocked by White-Haired Child, aka The Lake Monster, aka the little fucker currently holding her hostage.

It was comical, in a... Semi unsettling, possessive gremlin sort of way.

Every time Tree-Kid reached out, White-Haired Kid would shift her away, arms locked around Sasha's middle like a meaty seatbelt in an evolution of the keep away game they used to play around her room before.

Sasha, still trying to process what the fuck was happening, had just one, (or 100, but her craving for mushy carrots weren't really relevant right now) single, despairing intrusive thought she wanted to unthink:

Red-Eyes was probably another brother of hers.

In what was ten-to-one a crime family.

Inside a house that may or may not be bigger on the inside than it's supposed to be.

Sasha closed her eyes for a second, inhaling through her tiny baby nose which was semi blocked with snot.

She exhaled noisily, a bit of mucus dribbling from her permanently pouting lips.

And then resigned herself to the fact that nothing in her second life would be normal if this was going to be the theme.

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This Is Most Certainly Not Sasha's Room.

They finally stopped moving, the air still heavy with whatever unresolved argument was going on between the two. (Probably the handing over of one unwilling Sasha but her legs had been starting to burn pretty badly at he end of her adventure there so getting carried wasn't Too bad... Maybe. Lake-brother does Not know how to properly hold small children.)

Sasha didn’t recognize the room.

It was bigger than hers though, like, a Lot bigger.

Messier too.

There were scrolls stacked haphazardly in one corner with a bowl of dried black stuff haphazardly balancing on one sagging roll, the walls lined with fancy nonsense looking carvings of kanji that Sasha couldn’t read but somehow felt... Not familiar but not unfamiliar either. The deep slashes in the wood reminded her a bit of the lead in her stomach.

(Maybe the metaphorical lead is actual lead and she's got a serious case of lead poisoning and she's been hallucinating this entire thing? Yeah that makes so much sense, or maybe its fumes from all the drugs she has yet to see but is 100% certain is around somewhere, probably behind a dramatic door guarded by two buff men with guns. Or um, swords? What era did guns get invented again-?)

The whole place reeked of magic, (or lead... does lead have a smell?) more than anywhere else in the house that Sasha has explored thus far, but that didn't really say much since almost all the doors were closed but- well. She's... Probably babbling right now.

Sasha, sitting stiffly in Lake-Kid’s lap, distantly acknowledged the reason why she was rambling about magic auras and her hypnotical lead poisoning and the angle of scratches in the wall.

The room felt like a thunderstorm on the sea. The kid holding her hostage felt like a electricuted water as well.

You can make the connection on who's room this is right?

She turned her head slowly, meeting narrowed red eyes.

Creepily, he was already watching her with a blank expression that is either a sign of early onset dementia or psychopathy.

But his eyes... Sharp, calculating... Something else, not cold but not exactly hot either.

Sasha had been around predators before.

She wasn’t sure when, or why, or in what context, but she knew the feeling of being observed, measured and evaluated according to some sort of unknowable convoluted standard she could never figure out no matter how much she agonized.

(There was a woman in Sasha's mind's eye, she seemed so very cold for all her place in the warm spotlight.)

And this child- this unnerving, white-haired child... was doing something similar to that.

Sizing her up for her worth.

Sasha felt a single bead of sweat slide down the back of her neck... That hopefully it fell on Red-eye's clothes. For petty reasons.

She didn't like this kid, he made Sasha uncomfortable in the way she probably did to people now that she was a hyper intelligent fetus too.

He felt too smart. Too... Sharp-edged, for a body so very small. But...

Maybe they were kin in this way. Sasha wonders if he was also stuck in a body too small for him.

Sasha, still held in his unyielding grip, slowly, cautiously turned her head to the other threat in the room, letting Red-eyes win their unintentional staring contest and do whatever he wants with that information.

Tree-Kid was still there, across from them when Sasha's eyes landed on him.

And immediately froze.

Because he had mushrooms growing on his suddenly gloomy head.

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'You have got to be shitting me.' The thought was distant but heartfelt as all the previous ones were.

Sasha stared at the small, round-capped brown fungus sitting right on top of Tree-Kid’s stupid haircut.

It was growing there.

Like some godforsaken antenna.

And he wasn’t even aware of it, busy as he was crouching and mumbling to himself like a dejected wood spirit.

No.

No, this wasn’t happening.

Her god forsaken bloodline had mushroom powers.

Mushroom. Powers.

Not cool fireballs.

Not sword summoning magic.

Not turning into cool magical animals.

Fucking. Mushrooms.

Sasha wanted to Scream.

And yet, some unhinged part of her, some insane, deeply buried cursed instinct, made her lift her hand on autopilot.

And grow a mushroom too.

A handful of pale, jelly-like fungi, pooling in her tiny palm.

...Magic DNA test mushroom.

Cursed DNA. Sasha could only hope Red-eyes had cursed mushrooms to show too... It was probably algae or sea cucumbers though. Do underwater mushrooms exist?

Tree-Kid's gasp was dramatical as all hell, like he had just received a life-times supply of knives to gift to little toddlers while Lake-Kid narrows his eyes like a man who just found out his entire tax return is being audited.

As for Sasha? Well, Sasha regrets every decision that led to up this moment.

...She's going to have to join the... "Family Business" now wasn't she? Gods she was too young to start cooking meth. Please whatever god threw her head first into this awful, no good situation, don't be so cruel-

There is a long beat of silence, so profound, so thick with unspoken implications, that even the air itself feels like it’s holding its breath and Sasha is Not a fan of this dreadful stillness while she's mentally cursing the gods, she kind of wants to throw the elf-ear mushroom blob at bowl-cut just to end her misery.

Then, Tree-Kid, the absolute menace and breaker of etiquette regarding small children- Lunges.

His hands grab her tiny hand like it was made of porcelain, warm brown eyes wide and practically sparkling, and then promptly starts yelling excitedly in rapid Japanese.

Sasha... has no fucking clue what he’s saying, but she understands the energy.

It is the energy of an older brother who just found out his baby sibling has the same superpower or whatever this magic bullshit was. Maybe this was a prehistoric version of My Hero Academia? With Quirks and stuff? Damn she hopes not. There are cooler pre-anime timelines to be isekaied into like Bleach or something.

And Sasha... Well Sasha's semi-clean record (Mostly because she can't really Remember what her previous occupation was-) is in danger of a bright red mark in drug dealing. Or growing. Or, um. What was it even called when you're caught growing drugs? Was there up to a certain presentage you could grow before getting into trouble like marijuana? ...Did drug bylaws even exist in probably-feudal Japan? Was her new maybe Yakuza family actually just a clan of innocent farmers?

...Does Japan even have native drugs not artificially made? ...Was opium Chinese or was that just one of her previous life's friends messing with her?

...Sasha is... Confused.

Lake-Kid, meanwhile, is still staring at her with his blood-red eyes.

At the mushroom.

Then at Tree-Kid.

Then back at her.

Then back at the mushroom.

Then, finally—

He sighs.

Which? Mood but also fuck you Mr. 'Grey hairs at the ripe age of fetus years old' Sasha isn't the one with a staring problem here.

...Or maybe he has vision issues? Sasha knows from having grey eyes once upon a time that the lighter your eyes are the more suspectable to sun damage and also something something small amount of melanin - albino eyes are bad so maybe she's just being a dick about something Red-eyes can't control so that's on her for being an inconsiderate asshole, she'll apologize as soon as she remembers the word for it and'll even stop side eying the kid's mouth waiting for the tell tale sign of rabies.

And then she'll-

Oh... Lake-kid let her go?

Welp, Sasha's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so she immediately tries to escape out the doorway- But, she forgot the strength of drug-fueled midjets it’s too late.

Because Bowl-Cut- her Maybe-brother, confirmed mushroom mafia member-

Scoops her up like she weighs fucking nothing. (Which she probably doesn't) And Laughs.

Loudly.

Like this is the best day of his short midget tree life.

Sasha, utterly lost, can only stare over his shoulder at red-eyes, who is watching this unfold with a deeply suffering expression.

Which? Mood. Again. But.

Sasha, through the sheer force of her will, manages to convey a single, desperate message past the language barrier with her eyes:

Help.

Lake-Kid does not.

What a bitch. Sasha is making mold in his dinner tonight. Guilt at being a prejudiced asshole or no.

Chapter Text

This place was too cozy honestly.

The tatami mats were soft and a bit worn beneath Sasha, warm from her body heat (just hers. Tree-menace was still nursing his arm with suspiciously teeth shaped marks with a pout) the afternoon sun was lighting up the simple paper... Wall-door thing, she's pretty sure the scratches on the wooden walls had something to do with the sliding doors that in theory would open to the courtyard (Don't think about it dontthinkaboutit-) but she'd have to check to be sure.

Maybe Sasha should be panicking a bit more, maybe trying to make escape plans from this maybe yakuza now that Bowl-cut and Red-eyes (and she should really figure out their names, the mean nicknames were amusing but she'd have to know their names if she planned on screaming wolf the next time something like the... Courtyard Incident, happened) knew about her magic mushroom of probably drug quality but...

Meh.

Okay listen. Sasha isn't a complete idiot, a bit of one yes but. She's obviously someone of some stature, the reason she knew the nursemaid wasn't her mother in the first place was because no lady would call their wrinkly little baby "-Sama" or "Lord" as the general translation was. Someone of respect. Couple that with the huge fancy house that had multiple ponds in with big, fat, colorful koi fish that screeched money and fancy golden scroll paintings on random walls?

Yeah her yet to be located parents (Please let her have parents and not be some random creature that got birthed out of mud like an orc from Lord of the Rings) were probably Loaded with ill begotten drug money. Lots and lots of drug money.

It maybe says something about who she previously was that the only important part of that last sentence was that she was a rich brat now.

A few magic mushrooms (the drug type in this case) wasn't going to hurt her pockets at all, on the contrary it would only help lessen the tar in her blood that was building as she sat there, playing staring contest with Red-eyes and trying not to let the instinct that told her to either throw herself at him or hide behind Tree-bro win.

This bitch was her brother? For shame.

Her two maybe-brothers, maybe-cousins, maybe-mafia-Familia sat in front of her, waiting. Waiting for what you ask?

Mushrooms.

What else.

At this point Sasha wanted to turn into a mushroom and never have to see another person ever again.

Lake-monster stared, Sasha stared, Tree-kid whines and well... Sasha sighed, a deep, defeated thing that made her blow spit bubbles. Gross.

A big fat Matsutake mushroom grew in Sasha's hand, the perfect size to be gripped and lobbed at Tree-kid's big ugly bowlcut. Which is exactly what Sasha did.

The smug pettiness she felt as it nailed him right in-between the eyes was something that could cure depression with how satisfying it felt.

There. He could stop sulking now.

Lake-monster’s red eyes gleamed with amusement, it was quiet and barely there but it Sasha could feel it in the way the icy water of his aura thawed a bit... She's not sure she was supposed to notice that but whatever. As long as you're having fun buddy.

Onto more pressing issues: She's hungry. So, Sasha reached over and plucked the mushrooms right back from Tree-kid’s hands, ignoring his noise of protest as she shoved it cap first into her mouth.

What? She's hungry. Priorities. Trying to chew over the too large stem Sasha held baleful eye contact with Lake-monster. His stare didn’t change much to show his amusement, but there was a tiny squint to his narrow red eyes. Damn bro's gonna have one killer glare when he isn't pint sized one day. Sasha, not for the first time wonders what she looks like in this life.

Bowl-cut makes a mournful noise as he pokes her cheek.

Maybe he was hungry? It'd make sense, Sasha isn't really one to keep track of time but the... Incident, happened around lunch and it was getting later on in the evening now.

Giving Tree-child a superior stare of pity, for his aura was probably 30 times stronger than her own and he Has to be starving 24/7, Sasha conjured another batch of mushrooms and split them between the two boys. A benevolent gift for the suffering peasant masses.

Tree-kid, the absolute menace, immediately latched onto her in a hug of overwhelming gratitude. Sasha let out a strangled squawk around the mushroom still lodged in her gills, nearly choking to death and squirming furiously to escape. As the oblivious bastard crushed her tiny ribs.

Through the mess of limbs, she caught sight of Lake-monster again. Still watching. Still silent. Still—

Sasha froze.

—Smirking at her.

Bold as brass, smug as a tom cat as his canines glinted.

Her flailing increased tenfold as she swore vengeance against the red-eyed brat.

Unfortunately, Tree-kid was Strong for a little brat, and her struggles only resulted in her being squeezed tighter.

Sasha contemplated spitting up the Matsutake into Tree-menace's face in indignation, but she was hungry and there was no mercy in this cruel world.

Lake-monster just sat there, watching it all unfold with that insufferable, knowing look.

There was going to be so much mold in Lake-monster's future. Sasha hoped he wasn't allergic to penicillin because he'd be choking on it soon.

And, as it turned out, her purgatory on the scale of Dante's inferno wasn’t limited to daylight hours. As the evening stretched on and the sky outside the paper walls darkened, Sasha kept waiting for them to take her back to her room. Waiting and awkwardly hovering by the door because she lacked the vocabulary to tell them to open the fucking door.

But no one came to retrieve her. No one opened the sliding door to let her escape and no one took note of her confused hovering. The boys seemed entirely content to keep her in the room with them as they squabbled over one of the more ragged looking scrolls at a low table in the corner after it was clear Sasha wasn't keen on their interest on her mushrooms, making no move to return her to the care of her nursemaid.

Dinner came and gone as Sasha gobbled down sort of fruity tasting fungi, still trying for the bubblegum but failing miserably. But hey, kind of citrusy tasting wasn't bad at all, kind of sweet too. It would make a nice chewy snack when her teeth started coming in... Would Sasha get teeth earlier than usual? With her growing so quickly in the fleshy areas? Huh, something to look int- Oh hey! Tree-bro was leaving.

Sasha toddled up to him to stand by his side expectantly, he'd probably drop her off on the way to his own room right?

No.

Tree-menace betrayed Sasha. She thought they were comrades, kin of mushrooms or whatever ominous name this Yakuza gang had but no. The absolute bastard gave her a wretched kicked puppy look as he awkwardly nudged her away from the door, rambling nonsense repeating something like "Gomen" and "otōto" as he slid the door shut in her face.

This bitch was treating her like a pet trying to escape while their owner left the house.

Sasha felt the urge to throw herself through the fragile looking paper.

They were rich weren't they? They could afford one door to learn not to treat Sasha like a dog-

A pair of hands caught Sasha under the armpits right before she could enact her plan.

She barely had time to suck in a breath to yell profanities before she was yanked under a blanket like some sort of ragdoll.

Lake-monster didn’t say a word as he pulled her against his chest, his arm looping firmly around her middle. His breathing was slow, steady, the rhythm of someone who didn't give a shit that they had a squirming toddler in their arms. But Sasha wasn’t fooled. His magic was bubbly and hissy like a cat.

A very warm, very comfortable cat.

Sasha scowled into the darkness, limp as a noodle and planning on giving this bastard the grossest case of foot fungus ever.

Sasha tried once to sneak her way out of his grasp as his hold relaxed.

The arms tightened again.

Sasha hissed like a teapot. Lake-monster didn’t react. She squirmed. He didn’t budge.

There was no escape.

With a last squirm Sasha stuck her ice cold feet back into the warmth of Red-eyes' toasty shin, gaining a hiss of her own from her maybe-brother and you know what?

It was getting a little chilly sleeping in her room anyways and Puddle-monster had a nice thick blanket.

Chapter Text

Sasha woke up to a loud bang, followed by the unmistakable sound of Tree-Menace's ungodly cheerful voice.

The morning peace— the little that unconsciousness graciously granted her- shattered as the sliding door slammed open, revealing Bowl-cut standing in the doorway, grinning like a loon. Sasha barely had time to process his lunatic entrance before Red-eyes let out an irritated bark of Japanese that Sasha didn’t understand. But she did catch something notable in the scolding.

"Anija." Lake-kid said that to Tree-kid often, often enough to not be a greeting, and maybe it was a verbal tick but... Maybe it was Bowl-cut's name? It'd make sense. It was also a pretty cute name, with the classical 'i' these people loved so much as well... Huh. Tree-kid- or well, 'Anija' also called Red-eyes 'Tobi' a ton yesterday, it also had the little 'i' so...?

...Itama, Anija, and Tobi. Tobi was sticking out a bit with his two syllable name.

Casting a bleary speculative eye at the Lake-monster in question Sasha groggily wondered how to fix that, she was still snuggled as deep into the blanket as she could get to avoid Anija's attention so she had some time to contemplate... Wasn't the word for brother 'nii'? 'Tobini' sounded kind of stupid though.

How about these two chucklefucks take some of Sasha's name? Sharing is caring and all the sibling nonsense right? So, Itama, Tobiama and Anima. (Sasha was pretty sure Anima was like those brain eating water parasites which suits the cheerful little tree-shit to a T.)

Sasha continued to blink groggily at the two squabbling newly named kids. Tobiama was already up and moving and Sasha did kind of need to pee soon so... She begrudgingly followed, crawling out from the futon with all the grace of a drunken raccoon, unfortunately attracting the attention of one Tree-Anima who immediately zoomed into Sasha's position like an eagle going in for a kill, only panic saved Sasha's poor, poor abused ribs as she promptly tripped over her own feet and crashed into Tobiama’s side, using him as an impromptu human shield against the Tree-hugger.

A wise decision, considering Anima immediately lunged forward, arms outstretched for a morning glomping only to catch one scowling albino instead of Sasha.

Tobiama, still scowling from Bowl-cut’s antics, barely reacted as Sasha continued clinging to him like a lifeline even as Anima let go. He simply sighed through his nose and adjusted his stance slightly to keep Sasha from toppling over completely.

Mature. Suspiciously mature. Sasha squinted at him.

Who was the eldest sibling here?

Anima looked older, but Tobiama acted older. The height difference between them wasn’t much, and they didn’t look like twins. Another mystery to add to Sasha’s ever-growing pile.

But for now— The outside!

The two boys were moving to the exit and she would Not be denied freedom like a misbehaving pet again. Stupid Anima. Sasha nearly stuck her tongue out at the kid as he came to stand at the other side of her still clinging to Tobiama like a fungus infection.

The two luckily didn't try to deny her as they led her out of the room and through a maze of hallways, weaving through sliding doors and eventually stepping out into the open air.

The morning sun bathed a significantly less fancy compared to yesterday's courtyard in a soft glow, revealing a simple but well-kept space. Laundry lines stretched across wooden posts, filled with traditional Japanese clothing swaying gently in the breeze. The path they took led them further away from the richer section of the estate, through an area that was notably more lived in.

It was here that they finally stopped—in front of a massive, bustling house.

Sasha had been taking in the sights, but all of that screeched to a halt the moment she spotted something familiar inside.

By God. Is that-?

Before she could fully process the implications of an actual functioning kitchen, Anima made the executive decision to bodily Yeet her entire existence into the spotlight.

Sasha let out a strangled squeak as she was unceremoniously lifted off the ground, the traitorous bastard hoisting her high above his head, standing proudly atop one of the low wooden tables like he was reenacting some sort of Lion King moment.

Tobiama’s shocked and outraged yell barely registered over Sasha’s own internal screaming.

All around them, the bustling kitchen came to a halt as every single person in the room turned to stare.

Sasha, dangling helplessly in Anima's grasp, made the only logical decision available to her.

She went completely limp, hanging like a ragdoll and praying for death as despair consumed her, she must have kicked some sort of important person in the balls in her last life to deserve an extrovert brother like this in this life.

Anima, the absolute menace, just grinned wider.

Social Anxiety feared this child.

Tobiama, meanwhile, looked about two seconds away from shoving their idiot of a brother off the table. Which? Apricated bro but I'll be going down with this Tree-hugger to hug the floor with my soft toddler skull so please don't.

Chaos. Pure, unfiltered chaos. And it was still barely morning.

Sasha wanted to throw herself into the fire burning merrily in one of the nearest wooden stoves thanks.

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Anima, the absolute bastard, was still standing atop the table with the confidence of a warlord surveying his conquered lands. Sasha, meanwhile, was still dangling in his grasp like some sort of sacrificial offering, contemplating the series of poor life choices that had led her here.

Tobiama, bless his little demon soul, Sasha owed him so many apologies- she doesn't know how she could have misjudged his character so badly- had finally had enough. With the grace and fury of a weirdly athletic midget built like a gym rat, he surged forward and wrenched the poor wronged maiden Sasha out of Anima’s grasp, holding her aloft against his 13 pack pre-teen chest in what could only be described as a "you absolute dumbass, stop traumatizing our sibling" hug.

For a kid with such an icy-cold magic aura Red-eyes was surprisingly cuddly.

Sasha, still recovering from the sheer humiliation of having been hoisted up in front of a whole god forsaken room of strangers like some kind of newborn lion cub, clung to Tobiama like a lifeline, a small tremor of betrayal running through her.

Sasha had trusted that bastard tree-hugger of a brother. He gave her a knife and everything and now he goes and does this to poor, poor Sasha?! For shame! Dishonor on him, dishonor on his tree magic and dishonor on his stupid DNA mushrooms!

The kitchen workers had started forming a crowd by now, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright desperation, and some were even whispering amongst themselves in rapid Japanese. The weight of their attention felt suffocating, and Sasha seriously considered whether or not she could make a break for it if she squirmed just right in Tobi's hold.

And then, like the social menace he was, Anima used the lack of burden in his arms to start gesturing wildly at Sasha, his voice an excitable babble of words she couldn't understand but had unfortunately started associating with pure chaos.

He mimed something. Sasha squinted.

...Explosions? Dicks?? Flowers???

It was mushrooms right??? Otherwise he was miming for Sasha to get naked and piss all over the floor and Sasha didn't know if she could continue watching this train wreck of a mime show play out or put Tree-bastard out of his misery as a favor to the pool of evolution.

Sasha contemplated disowning him.

The absolute bitch. Not even a full day and this dumbass was already demanding magic mushrooms from her? Like some sort of toddler drug dealer? This may be a yakuza family but she does Not want to be part of the family business thank you very much you stupid bowl-cut brat.

Tobiama, apparently on the same wavelength as her, scowled and muttered something sharp at Anima, but the tree menace remained undeterred, instead turning to her with those big, hopeful puppy eyes.

Oh hell no.

This menace. This absolute brain eating parasite of a brother.

The exaggerated tone of his next words made something inside Sasha snap.

This bitch was baby talking her. For mushrooms.

Social anxiety stemmed humiliation completely forgotten, Sasha narrowed her eyes.

That stupid grin needed to be wiped off her dumbass brother’s face. Immediately.

The next second, a gigantic puffball mushroom exploded into existence in her tiny toddler arms. She grunted under the weight before launching it in Anima’s general direction.

It didn’t even come close.

Anima’s grin widened as if Christmas had come early to midget town.

Oh, that’s it.

Fueled by sheer rageful spite, Sasha began rapid-firing mushrooms at her tree-hugging, bastard of a soon-to-be disowned brother. Shiitakes, enokis, portobellos—she didn’t discriminate. The little shit had to start wildly dodging her fungal assault, arms flailing as he barely avoided getting smacked in the face by a well-aimed oyster mushroom. The air became thick with flying mushrooms, a hailstorm of fungal fury as Sasha burned through every ounce of magic lead energy she had accumulated during the night.

One particularly large shiitake smacked against a wooden beam, rebounding straight into the face of an unfortunate bystander. Someone let out a strangled gasp. Somewhere in the chaos, a kitchen worker slipped on a rogue enoki and nearly went down, arms pinwheeling like a cartoon character before their face went 'smack' against the dusty floors.

The kitchen workers had stopped murmuring. They were just staring now, watching all this unfold with the same horrified fascination one would have watching a school bus full of children go careening off a highway in slow motion.

It was fine. Everything was fine. Sasha was going to nail this asshole right in his smug little face and then deal with all the rest.

She just needed one more—

Just One More and-!

Her stupid baby arms gave out.

A wave of exhaustion hit her like a freight train, her body betraying her at the worst possible moment. And, because the universe clearly hated her, it triggered the one thing she had zero control over in this tiny baby body of hers.

Her vision blurred. Her tiny lip wobbled.

Oh, hell no.

Hell no.

And then, against all of her previous life’s self-respect and survival instincts—

She burst into tears.

A loud, frustrated, hiccuping wail of a cry.

Fuck.

Anima froze mid-dodge, eyes going wide with something close to horror as the mushroom finally pelted him square in the jaw. Tobiama's arms stiffened around her, his icy calm magic aura shifting and starting to slosh around with waves, the electricity sharp.

The kitchen workers? Oh, they were eating this up, much to Sasha's shame. Shame that only motivated her stupid baby brain to sob harder.

Sasha wanted to DIE.

A few gasps echoed through the room. A couple of the older women clutched their chests like they had just witnessed something life-altering. One dude in the back looked like he was about to start crying in solidarity. Someone whispered something that sounded suspiciously like "Kami-Sama." Another muttered about "Ningen." and some bastard ran right out the god damn building.

Sasha, despite being the one actively crying, wanted to shove her head underwater just to get the noise to stop.

She tried to rein it in, tried to glare at Anima through the tears, but it was hard when her whole body was shaking with exhausted, betrayed sobs. Stupid. Stupid baby hormones. Stupid tiny weak arms. Stupid loud idiot brother.

Anima, now looking as if he had personally caused a national tragedy, scrambled forward in a panic, hands hovering uncertainly as he made a frantic string of apologetic hushes and coos. His usual confidence was gone, replaced with frantic, guilty energy as he tried to pacify the tiny, furious baby sibling he had upset by being an insensitive prick.

Tobiama, to his eternal credit, just turned Sasha around so her face was smushed into his chest and started patting her back in a silent, comforting rhythm. His hold was steady, warm, a solid contrast to the unhinged energy radiating from Anima.

It almost worked. Almost.

Then some old lady in the crowd let out a quiet squeal and Sasha’s shame deepened into the seventh layer of hell.

She was going to strangle Anima in his sleep.

Just as soon as she stopped sobbing like a pathetic little idiot first.

And then, to make matters worse, a deep, unfamiliar voice rumbled from somewhere behind the crowd.

Sasha hadn't a clue what he said but the crowd gasped like and parted for the man like the red sea.

Oh. Oh, fantastic. Another situation.

Sasha, still hiccuping from the force of her tiny toddler breakdown, peeked over her brother's shoulder.

A tall man with long brown hair stood at the entrance of the kitchen, his arms crossed, face unreadable. His presence alone was enough to make the kitchen workers snap to attention, their backs straightening like school children caught misbehaving.

Anima, the absolute coward, immediately pointed at Sasha.

Tobiama growled quietly above Sasha.

The man took in the scene, frowning severely as his fancy looking robes billowed behind him with some inopportune wind.

Sasha considered just dissolving into the floor. Maybe, if she wished hard enough, the universe would let her just sink into the wood and back to her old world like some sort of fairytale.

Sasha was never going outside ever again.

Chapter Text

Sasha, still clinging to Red-Eyes like a distressed koala bear in a hurricane, was violently regretting her life choices. (Well she does that every other day but today Especially is awful, no good, horrible, Other Synonyms. Even the vague thing in the back of her head labeled "Past Life" agrees with her.)

Fancy Man— the dude currently barking what she could only assume were some profoundly disappointed words in angry Japanese— looked like he was about two seconds from committing a very dignified murder. Oh, and also 5 seconds away from an aneurysm. Sasha kind of hoped the aneurysm would come faster, it would be funny to watch.

Not that she's complaining this random dude has come to the kitchen to draw all the attention to himself at right this moment where she's bawling her little heart out because... Because.

Sasha, of course, as per status quo understood exactly None of it beside Tobiama's name and some sort of "Hash" word, which? Sasha could actually go for some hash browns right about now, or any form of breakfast really... A longing gaze was aimed at the floor below covered in mushrooms.

Who even was he yelling at? Anima? (The rat would deserve it) Tobi? The both of them? The world in general? (She felt that one, she'd like to yell at the world at large too please and thank you.) Hell if she knew. All Sasha knew was that the combined shame of her breakdown, the public spectacle she had made of herself, and now this noble-looking motherfucker berating her new-life siblings in a language she didn’t understand was making her head hurt.

Or maybe that was just the normal post-cry feeling.

Tweedledee and Tweedledum, on the other hand, reacted instantly. So it must've been directed at them.

Both of them stiffened like scolded puppies, ears metaphorically flattening as they scrambled to follow... Whatever fancy-clothes said. Cowards. Fuck the patriarchy.

The Fancy Man whipped around with the dramatics of a concubine about to throw herself off a palace balcony because her husband was caught talking to a maid and that apparently meant he was cheating or whatever those period dramas were about, robes billowing in the wind like he had a personal drama budget.

Oh, and Sasha too, because apparently she just did not get a say in shit anymore, Tobiama just followed right after him, carrying her along like a goddamn handbag.

Alright. Fine. Whatever. She wasn't going to complain when she could just sit here and process the absolute circus that had been the last hour of her life.

And promptly start pretending it Never Happened. Because Sasha probably owned a river called The Nile in her past life.

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It was a long walk back to the Fancy part of townTM, the one where the rich assholes lived, Sasha could only assume because apparently it's where where her and her two absolute dipshit brothers also lived. Because of course. Of fucking course her theory about being the kid of the head honcho had merit. Of course. (Sasha wanted to continue her little cry fest. Desperately. Stupid baby emotions.)

She was still held to Tobiama's chest, while Anima pranced alongside them like the absolute menace he was. She refused to look at him. Not because she was embarrassed or anything, just... Pride. Yeah, she didn't want to seem like she knew this loser in public.

At some point, they passed The Courtyard.

No.

Please no.

Anywhere but here.

Please abort, not to the gazebo, why, please not here.

Tobiama’s arms tightened around her.

Sasha used his chest to try and smother herself.

Why did the world hate her so???

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She was still mid-cringe spiral when they finally arrived at their... Destination.

The Gazebo.

The scene of the crime against her poor innocent baby retinas.

The gazebo she caught the Nursemaid and Baldy doing the horizontal tango.

Sasha wanted to take the koi route out of life. Just toss her into the pond and let her float into the afterlife please Lake-monster. A favor for your favorite little sister. Because this? This situation? This was her own personal trauma episode.

Meanwhile, Fancy Man, the reason for her current misery, took a seat at the large wooden table, pretty messed up looking hands neatly folded over the table. Huh, Sasha kind of assumed that he was some rich noble lord or whatever but dude was missing a pinky finger and had a thumb look like it went through the meat grinder.

Tobiama followed suit, sitting opposite him, which meant Sasha was plopped right into his lap like a glorified housecat while Anima- the snake- slithered in next to them, still too... Lively, for her liking, and Sasha had to actively fight the urge to hurl just one more mushroom at him out of some childish compulsion. Totally caused by the state of her body, of course. She's not usually so petty, trust her bro.

She held back. Barely. Because she's nice and civilized like that. And it would be a waste of mushrooms.

Then, finally, the... Conversation began?

Well. More accurately, Fancy Man launched into a mid-end battle villain monologue of Aggressive Japanese while Sasha happily tuned it out, processing absolutely none of it even as she watched with silent glee as Anima wilted like a flower. Take that you little shit. Revenge, retribution, vengeance for making her cry in front of everyone. Mowhahahaha.

Tobiama, to his credit, just sat silently over her like a limestone gargoyle when Concubine dude started pointing at Sasha like she was to blame for the twin tower incident or whatever. Which? Rude? Didn't anyone ever tell this guy it was impolite to point? (Sasha happily ignored the fact that she often points during conversation only to laugh when others start pointing as well.)

Though... Actually. Just who the fuck was this dude anyways?? Sasha kind of just sat there blinking for lack of anything better to do as Concubine dude started getting freakishly happy, like a zealot who just had their victim- Cough, Sasha means... Conversation Partner, agree with their point of view. She's sort of hoping to someone would throw her a bone and give some context.

Like.

He was tall. He was fancy. He was clearly important. He looked like Anima if Anima grew up to be one bad day away from a mental breakdown and with a stick the size of an obese Labrador up his ass.

But he also had Red-Eyes' eye shape.

...Oh.

'Oh fuck me in the ass with a rusty spoon and call it a massage.'

Sasha's stomach just sort of dropped. Heart in ass and nasty cold feeling in her chest.

The first words from Tobi since they sat down just confirmed it. Sasha kind of regrets wondering who he was now, ignorance was bliss.

"Otou-Sama"

This the Yakuza drug lord or whatever she's been imagining?

Was this The Big Boss? The guy who probably signs off on all the crime and assassinations and whatever the fuck else this unhinged mushroom growing family does??

Was she—

Sasha, roughly 6 months old and already on thin fucking ice mentally and physically, (her stomach was killing her with this awful cocktail of stress, magic and hunger okay?) currently sitting at the same goddamn table as the head of the fucking Yakuza and where she caught her nursemaid having a grand old time instead of feeding her.

Sasha wanted to run far, far away from this place. She was probably going to tire herself out soon and resign to her fate but for now?

The koi pond was right there. The water was right there. The answer to all her problems was right fucking there.

Whatever cruel Gods threw her head first in this situation were testing her.

And Sasha? Dear Sasha was failing. Miserably.

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The food arrived, carried by a luckily not-bald man with a noticeable limp, Sasha kind of worried he'd drop it all on the ground with that massive tray but he was surprisingly efficient as he placed dish after dish on the table. He must be the envy of a many hospitality workers.

The sheer variety of food though had Sasha’s stomach immediately attempting to digest itself out of spite, growling the smell hit her like a brick through the teeth. Steamed dumplings, golden and glistening. Fried fish, glistening with a dark sauce (A slightly suspicious eye was cast at the koi ponds). And miso(?) soup that practically beckoned her soul into the bowl. Not that she'd mind.

She was starving. Absolutely dying.

And yet.

Tobiama, the great betrayer Sauron, kept her firmly in place, arms a prison of steel and lake-monster magic preventing her from her sweet, sweet dues, from lunging across the table and stuffing her face with the dumplings like a feral raccoon like she desperately wanted to. She hadn't had solid, cooked food in so very long it was a crime. A breach of her human rights. Sasha shot Lake-monster a glare that she hoped communicated the depths of her outrage since she didn't know what "fuck off" was in Japanese yet, but Red-Eyes remained impassive, waiting and watching...

Oh. Right. The Boss.

Sasha very, very pointedly avoided making eye contact as their father— ugh— lifted his chopsticks and took the first bite, his expression neautral from what she could see staring at the place the fish dissapeared into his mouth. Only then did her cruel brother dignify to move his ass, grabbing a bowl of rice and bringing it closer picking up a small bite with a spoon before bringing it toward her face.

…Huh?

Sasha blinked at the offering.

Then up at him. His red eyes were expectant so it must be for her, not just him holding it a bit too low or something.

He... wanted to hand feed her? Sasha could feed herself, she's been eating on her own for a long while by now.

Her knee-jerk response was to deny him but... Her arms were kind of still a tad tired from earlier.

A glance at Tree-Menace cemented her acceptance of the situation though.

Anima, who was staring. Big, tragic, betrayed puppy-dog eyes full force. The sheer longing, the utter devastation on his face as he realized He wasn’t hand feeding her.

Sasha tried to stick her tongue out at him, only partially successful as she leaned forward and accepted the bite, chewing slowly, deliberately, just to rub salt in the wound. Take that bitch, you just couldn't stand still could you? You just had to put her in that situation in the first place too huh? You brought it upon yourself.

The little gasp Anima let out was music to her ears as he clutched his chest like a granny clutches their pearls.

But her dumb brother was quickly abandoned because- Oh. Oh my god. Oh. My. God.

The rice was so good. Steamed to perfection and slightly sweet with rice wine.

Like, it shouldn’t be this good, it was literally just rice, but her malnourished, mushroom-dieted body was practically leaping around in joy.

Sasha opened her mouth for another bite before she even properly swallowed the previous bite and Tobiama her beautiful, darling angle of a brother ever the dutiful sibling, obliged.

Anima made a noise of unspeakable sorrow.

Double Victory.

Then—soup.

Sasha wanted to weep in joy.

“Ohhhhh,” she'd deny the baby coo forever but all all thoughts of pettiness lost in the face of sheer bliss when the first spoonful was offered. Warm, rich broth slid down her throat, and if she were capable of ascending to a higher plane of existence, she would have. (Not just because this place sucked and her newly discovered drug lord father was creepily staring at her)

Tobiama was now her favorite. No contest. Sorry not sorry, Anima. Your paltry knife offering pales in the face of true greatness.

She made sure to make direct, triumphant eye contact with her other brother as she took the next spoonful.

...He was cooing. Like one does when watching a cute animal video looking like he was about to lean over and squish her cheeks. Damn.

Concubine-dude cleared his throat.

Sasha ignored him past the fleeting moment of gratefulness for dragging the Tree-menace into a conversation.

The meal continued, luckily undisturbed as Tobi alternated between feeding her and himself. Anima managed to sneak a quick pinch at her cheek but was swatted away by Tobi, but she was so comfy it hardly registered so eventually, inevitably, the world began to blur at the edges, warmth and fullness lulling her into a little doze, fairies tugging at her eyelids.

Babies sleep a lot, right? No shame in passing the hell out on Red-Eyes.

She barely managed to shift slightly, snuggling deeper into his arms, before sleep pulled her under.

Blissfully unaware of the future hell Fate was cooking up in his meth lab for her.