"Hai," he said. Yes.
"Hai!" I echoed, figuring it was as good a first word as any. I clapped my hands and grinned.
"Hai! Hai!"
Mikoto vanished, reappearing a moment latter with Fugaku in tow, and I repeated my first word for him too. He smiled and commented about my early verbal skills.
Sasuke was also smiling and laughing, not understanding the commotion but enjoying it anyway. I felt a brief flare of chakra and realized that Mikoto had activated her Sharingan.
For a moment, I wondered if there was a threat nearby, but she was merely smiling down at me.
Oh, well, I supposed that the Sharingan was used to memorize things. So maybe this was the Uchiha version of a photograph, or maybe a home movie? I repeated my words a few more times, still smiling and clapping for her.
It felt strangely heartwarming that there was someone here who cared enough about my first word to remember it. I saw her Sharingan again a few more times like during birthdays or when she dressed us up for the New Year's festival.
Soon enough Itachi began attending the academy, leaving Sasuke and me to our own devices for most of the day. It was pretty dull without him around, as Fugaku was always off at work and Mikoto was running the house and various clan affairs by herself.
She tried to make time for us, playing games and giving us toys, but there was an odd undercurrent to many of them. Several of the dolls were ninja-shaped with vital organs marked with large black "X"s that Mikoto trained us to poke.
The clapping games were filled with what looked like jutsu hand signs. And there were various targets around the room that she taught us to hit with beanbags.
Then there were the stories she read to us. They were filled with great ninja, samurai, and rogue warriors fighting for clan and country.
They tended to include a lot of fighting and death. And I mean a lot.
Although the subject matter of the books was disconcerting, I focused on learning how to read, tracing the symbols and reading them back to her over and over again.
When Mikoto was busy, I toddled around with story books and held them up at anyone who made eye contact with me. Itachi was always willing to read, and Fugaku could be convinced with puppy-dog eyes.
Visiting family members and guests occasionally fell victim to my guilt trips if Mikoto wasn't careful to keep the doors closed. Once when she was hosting a dinner party and had locked the dining room door, I even managed to escape the house and found a pair of old men playing Shogi who readily obliged in reading to me.
A harried Mikoto burst out of the house an hour later and hauled me back inside, but I merely waved at the men with a happy "bye-bye!"
Mikoto, apparently deciding that I had far too much energy, started teaching Sasuke and me basic stretches and exercises to build muscle and flexibility. She turned it into another game, adding new movements regularly as we memorized the old ones.
We also started doing stamina-building, which I thought was a little strange considering our age, but maybe she just wanted to tire us out now that Itachi was away for most of the day. Stamina-building consisted of running.
Lots and lots of running.
Sasuke and I were told to run laps around the back yard, taught things like push-ups, sit-ups, and lunges. We weren't quite two yet, so our stamina was virtually nonexistent, but I was sure that a normal two-year-old from my previous world wouldn't have had the strength for most of this.
I chalked it up to the chakra flowing through our bodies, strengthening muscles and speeding reaction times far beyond what a normal human child should be able to accomplish.
This was hampered greatly by my asthma, one of the side effects of my troubled birth. Dust and strenuous exercise were enough to leave me gasping for air, and ninja apparently hadn't invented inhalers yet.
It felt unfair that I was half-Uzumaki and still suffered from health complications, but apparently I hadn't inherited the famous Uzumaki constitution. I probably shouldn't be too upset, though.
Bloodlines weren't a guarantee of perfect genetics. Traits could die out or skip a generation, like how Boruto wouldn't have a Byakugan even with Hinata as his mother.
My physical limitations weren't enough to completely deter me, however. I went as far as I could go, and then I took breaks while Sasuke continued to train.
Well "train". We were still toddlers, after all.
But I was a little surprised and unsettled by how early they were starting us down this path. The Uchiha really were ninja straight out of the cradle.
Less than a year into our training, Itachi graduated. We had a grand feast that night where most of the clan turned out to offer congratulations, more to Fugaku than Itachi, oddly.
Sasuke and I were dressed in tiny blue kimonos and we were allowed to sit at the table beside Itachi, who seemed embarrassed by all the attention. I occasionally slipped sweets onto Itachi's plate, which he ate surreptitiously when no one was looking.
Afterwards, Itachi started taking D-rank missions and training more often. When he played with us, he started using reflex games and even taught us a few throwing techniques with rubber balls.
Sasuke and I managed to pick up some of the basics easily enough. Sasuke had far better aim, which didn't surprise me at all.
In my former life, I'd never played sports because I was terrible at just about anything involving aim and coordination. My asthma only served to widen that gap further since I could only train for a fraction of the time, but that didn't bother me too much, as I wouldn't live long enough for those skills to be useful.
Sasuke, on the other hand, ate up whatever Itachi was willing to teach and often spent hours upon hours practicing in the back yard.