Tamamo sat still beneath the high window of the Uchiha library, her arms wrapped loosely around her knees. Dust danced lazily in the early light. Somewhere beyond the walls, the village was waking up. But inside, it felt too quiet.
Reading about Madara and the founding of the Hidden Leaf had stirred something strange. It wasn't just the tragedy or the weight of history. It was the loneliness between the lines. Something about Madara's story — the distance between what he dreamed and what he lost — made her think of home. Not this home, but the one she barely let herself remember.
She hadn't thought about her old world in a long time.
She had forced herself not to. Told herself there was no point in clinging to memories that couldn't change anything. But now, her thoughts drifted backward — to her old bedroom. Her phone. The warmth of her blanket at night, the taste of fast food. Chicken nuggets. Streaming shows late into the night. Her parents. Her name.
It felt like a ghost life.
Like something she might've dreamed up. And waking from that dream into this world, as a toddler with no power, no say, no choice—
She hugged her knees tighter.
—
Mikoto found her first.
Tamamo had returned to the kitchen in silence, helped dry the remaining dishes, and sat by the window without a word. No jokes. No snide remarks. Just… quiet.
"Sweetheart," Mikoto said gently, kneeling beside her. "Are you alright?"
Tamamo blinked. "Yeah."
But it was too fast. Too flat.
Mikoto placed a hand on her forehead — no fever. She studied her daughter's eyes. Thoughtful. Heavy.
Not sick.
Just far away.
—
Sasuke encountered her next. He had stomped into the hallway after a nap, hoping for tomatoes, only to see her sitting in the engawa, staring at the koi pond like it had whispered forbidden truths.
"Oi."
No answer.
"…Did you fall asleep with your eyes open?"
Still nothing.
"Okay, are you broken?"
Tamamo turned her head. "Do you ever think we're just small pieces in someone else's story?"
"…"
Silence.
Sasuke just stared.
"I just wanted some tomatoes," Sasuke muttered and backed away slowly.
—
Later, Itachi returned home to find Tamamo sitting cross-legged on the porch, tracing a line in the wood with her finger. He stood behind her for a full minute, just watching.
She hadn't noticed.
"Tamamo," he said finally.
She glanced up. Her eyes were blank for a second too long.
"You're quiet."
Tamamo looked away. "Guess I ran out of things to say."
Now that was suspicious.
He crouched down beside her. "Are you upset?"
She shrugged.
"You can talk to me."
She didn't answer.
He watched her for another few seconds, then rose.
—
That evening, after Tamamo went to lie down early, Itachi gathered Mikoto and Sasuke in the kitchen.
"She's not herself," Mikoto said softly.
"I asked if she was upset," Itachi said, "but she wouldn't say."
Sasuke crossed his arms. "She said something weird about us being in a story. Then just sat there."
The door creaked. Shisui's voice rang out.
"So we launching an emotional intervention or what?"
Everyone turned.
"You're late," Itachi said.
"I was gonna make a grand entrance, but someone left the window locked. Rude."
Mikoto sighed. "She's sad."
Shisui's smile faltered. "Tamamo? Sad? That's like—itachi-getting-stuck-in-a-jar level impossible."
There was a beat of silence.
Mikoto and Sasuke slowly turned to look at Itachi.
Itachi gave Shisui a look.
Shisui sweatdropped and cleared his throat. "Anyway, point is: this is serious."
"What do we do?" Sasuke asked.
They all exchanged glances.
Mikoto folded her arms. "She's not going to talk about it directly. So maybe… we do something fun. Something light."
Shisui rubbed his chin. "Something so absurdly over-the-top it drags her out of the gloom by sheer force of nonsense."
"Something Tamamo."
The plan was forming.
—
And so it began. The operation to fix one very broken mood.
Shisui led with full-blown dramatics. He burst into her room that evening with a red scarf tied around his forehead like a headband and declared himself the Champion of Cheer.
Tamamo didn't even blink.
"I have been summoned by the elders to restore balance to the grumpy child within these walls," he proclaimed.
She gave him a look that could have withered crops.
Next came Sasuke, who, after being bribed with tomatoes, reluctantly put on a paper mustache and declared himself Lord Tomato, Bringer of Fruit and Joy.
Mikoto tried a more subtle approach. She handed Tamamo a small wooden carving she'd made—just a fox, no bigger than her palm. No words. Just a quiet reminder she wasn't alone.
Even Itachi joined in, presenting her with a scroll labeled "Top Secret Mission: Operation Smile Storm" with actual hand-drawn stamps.
Tamamo held it for a long moment.
She didn't laugh.
But she smiled.
A real one.
And then Shisui tried to do a backflip, slipped on a sock, and knocked over a stool.
That did it.
Tamamo burst out laughing. It came fast and loud and just a little teary. She laughed until her ribs ached and her cheeks hurt.
Everyone stared.
Victory!
—
Later that night, long after the others had gone to bed, Tamamo sat by her window.
She looked up at the stars, a blanket around her shoulders.
"I miss them," she whispered. "But… I'm glad I'm here."
She didn't know when it happened. When her old life stopped being home and this one started feeling like it.
But tonight, it did.
BONUS SCENE
And then the door creaked open.
Fugaku stepped in, took one look at the blanket forts, the scrolls, the paper mustache on the wall, and the red scarf still stuck in the potted plant.
He closed the door.
And walked away.
"…I'll go patrol the east sector again."