Chapter Text
It was a misty spring morning, a week before Sakura’s second birthday, when she first became aware of the existential horror of her own existence. She of course had spent her entire, short life with the memories of Tristan Hughes- charming family man, highly successful contract lawyer and consummate serial killer- in her head but it wasn’t until that moment that her brain became developed enough to adequately examine her own sentience.
It wasn’t often during his previous sixty three years of life that he had pondered on what happened after death, considering it a largely useless subject to speculate on when there was no reasonable method of testing any hypothesis, but he certainly had never considered that he might be reborn as a pink haired girl in a world where magical ninjas were real and her father liked to cut his hair in the shape of a starfish.
Tristan, having chosen to die in a blaze of gunshots and glory when his Parkinson’s diagnosis threatened to become debilitating to his hobbies (read: murdering innocents and evading the law), found herself looking forward to her future in a world where professional assassins were exulted heroes.
For now, Sakura would bide her time and enjoy the complete lack of responsibilities that childhood would bring.