My Butterfly

by ArielBubbles

"I live here, go away." There's a pause. Then, "Nobody lives here." "Nobody lives here," I agree. "Nobody but a boy and his ghosts."

Chapter 1

Sometimes when I can't sleep, when my secret gives me trouble, I lie on my back and stare up at the ceiling. Sometimes I think about nothing. I just listen to my own breathing. The steady inhale and exhale of my body without any real input from me, the mechanical rise and fall of my chest is comforting. Other times I just let my thoughts wander as it flits from one subject to another aimlessly. An upcoming test, some old piece of stale gossip, do I really want to run a bakery in the not so distant future? Most times though, I remember that vivid dream I had all those years before.

My parents always said it was just a negative effect of my hearing all those made up stories about that tragedy and over the years I'd pretended that I was convinced that's what all it was. Even when getting dressed and showering I took special care to avoid looking at that thing, and somehow in my daily life managed to cover it up automatically. It seems that lying comes easier to me than most.

What it is, well, it's some strange black mark on my left hip, what it is? I don't know, really I don't. It has some strange swirly design on it with other little almost comma shaped things around it. It just appeared after that dream. I couldn't tell my parents, what would they say? They'd think I was crazy. Or that it was a tattoo and a sign of teenage rebellion that I was trying to cover up with a lame story to evade their parental wrath.

The dream was so real though. I was only six years old. My young mind struggled with the stories I'd heard that day from the older children. A whole clan, a strong clan, in our village decimated. Some of the kids said that Itachi Uchiha did it all by himself. Others said that it was a terrible monster disguised as a handsome shinobi that tricked them into opening the window and slaughtered them all. The first theory, which turned out to be true, was too horrible to talk about it. So naturally, the second theory was spread everywhere like wildfire getting more wicked with ever y retelling.

While the horrors of a disguised monster creeping in my window terrorized my mind and sent icy shivers down my spine, I slipped between my sheets. I snuggled down and shut my eyes tight, desperately trying to forget all the things I'd heard that day. I tried everything, I thought about helping my Mama bake cakes on Saturdays. I thought about kittens. I even tried thinking about my birthday and Christmas. But such childish comforts did not sooth such agonizing waking terrors.

When I had all but given up I rolled to my side to look out the window, nearly causing my heart to stop. A boy stood by the side of my bed looking down at me. I glanced past him to see my window wide open. My curtains flapping in the night chilled air. The boy wasn't scary looking, which scared me even more. He smiled kindly at me, he had dark eyes behind round glasses frames, and silver hair pulled back in a pony tail. He wasn't an adult or a child, more like a young teenager. My guess put him around 14.

He reached out a hand and put in on my head smoothing my hair back in a soothing manner. When he finally spoke it was clear that the words weren't for me.

"He said he wanted a young one, this one's about the perfect age."

I pulled the blanket up to my chin nervously, hoping for him to leave, but it seemed to draw his attention to me even more.

"How old are you?"

"Six." I whispered hoarsely. "Where are my Mommy and Daddy?"

He continues to speak in a comforting, kind voice. "Asleep." He narrowed his eyes while tilting his head to the side, lost in his own thoughts again as he speaks to himself. "Hmm, yes. She'll do. She is a bit young, but old enough. A pretty little specimen besides." He placed the hand smoothing my hair to my forehead. "What's your name?"

"Chieri," I slurred as my body relaxed and my eyes drooped dangerously against my will and pathetic struggling.

Then I was in a strange place, the silver haired guy was there, but someone else was there too. He was tall and thin. His skin was deathly pale, so white that the yellow-greenish eyes were the most prominent feature on his slightly feminine face. I peered at those chilling eyes now, they were framed by purple markings and I noticed his high cheek bones. His features reminded me of a snake.

The snake man pushed long silky black hair away from his face as he studied me critically. "Whatever did you pick this one for?"

The silver haired one answered, "She's the perfect age, they'll test her chakra abilities soon I'd say. It'll be a perfect opportunity to test your abilities. You can see how effective your seal really is. Also, her family runs a rather successful bakery in the village, it's highly unlikely that they'd pack up and leave so there's low risk of losing track of her as he grows. Not to mention it'll be easier to keep an eye on her if she's from the village."

The snake man's eyes rove over me critically and I shiver in fear, but force myself not to look away from him. If he's going to do something terrible to me, I'm determined he'll remember my face so I can haunt his memories. "She's brave, I'll give her that. You're right about the chakra; she'll probably development elemental abilities before her peers." His eyes meet mine and he smiles at me. "Who knows, maybe if this works out she could be of use to me one day." Abruptly the smile disappears, and is replaced by a haunting expression, letting know that my memory will not cause him a moment of discomfort. "Hold her down."

The silver haired boy jumps at the command, each hand pushing my shoulders down and pinning me helplessly. His voice buzzes near my ear, "Chieri, be a good girl now." He warns dangerously as the ghostly white hands of the snake my yank my pajama shirt up to my belly button and the other cold one presses against my hip, lacing a biting burn through me. I hear myself squealing in pain and fear as my vision blurs and fades into blackness. The last sound I hear before waking up in my own bed is the snake hissing, "It's perfect."

Five years later, the memory of that hissed phrase still has the power to make me want to cower under my sheets and pray for daylight. I glance at the window quickly, as is customary on nights like these before turning my attention back to my ceiling and resuming this path of well worn thoughts.

I remember how the next morning I ran downstairs frantically searching for my parents. I was in such shock to still be alive; I thought it would be too much to expect that the monster had left them alone. But I was greeted by the usual morning routine well in progress. Father was sitting at the table, working on a cup of black coffee and Mother was busily flitting around the kitchen, finishing everything that needed looking after before directing her energy into getting me out the door and on the way to school. It was more relief than my little heart could take and I folded on the floor, giving my parents a world class scare.

This time around when I woke I was in the hospital, as I opened my eyes weakly I saw that as I peered at my surroundings. Finding more strength I blinked opening my eyes all the way and seeing Father's warm brown eyes and feeling my Mother's hand caress my cheek. I was feeling blissfully peaceful until my eyes wandered to the open door of my hospital room. I saw a doctor smiling at me, "I see someone's awake!" He says as he approaches me, reading a file.

"Doctor, we can't thank you and your son enough, what luck it was for him to be walking past the house at that moment!" Mama says.

"Don't mention it," The Doctor says, "My son always finds a morning stroll a peaceful way to start the day, and it certainly was good fortune he was around when you called for help."

I look around questioningly, his son?

Noticing my confused expression he quickly fills in my mental blanks. "I hope you don't mind, my son is showing a lot of promise at becoming a great medical ninja. He's still young but I let him shadow me on my less urgent cases."

Father pats my hand, "You must be very proud of such a fine boy."

"I definitely am. Well, speak of the devil, hey? In here, Kabuto!" The Doctor calls out.

When the silver haired teen from last night walks in the room my heart hammers and I get dizzy all over again and my left hip burns a little. It seems to serve as a sharp reminder, as if I was in danger of forgetting what happened. My head swivels around the room, alarmed, but no one else shares in my panic.

"I'm glad to see your feeling better, Chieri." He says in the same comforting tones as before.

I open my mouth to tell, the whole story just on the tip of my tongue, when the burning gets worse, insisting that I shut up. I obey the burn and snap my lips together firmly. I settle for a slight, frightened nod vainly hoping someone would pick up on my silent signals.

I remember when I get home my parents telling me how the Doctor said I passed out from an extreme shock to my system made worse by my body being weakened for some reason. Quietly, I whisper parts of my dream, the burn warning my not to say a word about the snake man, or the pain I'm feeling. I tell them about the rumors at school of the monster and how last night Kabuto climbed in my window and took my away.

My parents were upset about rumors scary enough to give a child horrifying nightmares; they dismissed the other details to nothing more than situations created in a scared child's mind. In their minds Kabuto was a hero. When I fell to the floor Mama screamed and Kabuto heard her and came running to the door. But even now when I see Kabuto in the streets I skirt away from him, trying to avoid his glance and touch at all costs.

Finally, morning light spills into my window, signalling for me to get through another day without sleeping, and landing me solidly back into the present.

Huffing out a breath I get up and get ready to go to class.

I follow my morning routine as if I got a perfect night's sleep, a performance perfected by much practice. I make chatter with my parental units, listening to them about the daily goings on in the bakery. I watch Father, considering his medium height and his lanky build even at his age. Wearing a white button up shirt and casual jeans carefully ironed by Mama, he smiles at me, his kind chocolate eyes crinkling up in the corners. I notice that his close cropped brown curls were getting a touch of gray about them.

"Chieri," Mama's voice snatches my unusually perceptive mood to her. She gives me her customary warning, "Come straight home from school, okay?" After the nightmare my parents decided that I was fragile and needed to be protected from socializing too much with the other children of the village, especially shinobi in training. They were convinced that the trainee's could fill my head with all sorts of terrible horrible things that would give me unending nightmares for the next thirty years. I know behind my back, they breathed sighs of relief at my lack of skills with chakra.

Instead of saying all that, I just give the same reply as always, "Yes, Mama." Satisfied, she turns away from me, and I use to the time to study her also. She's a tiny woman, short in stature and slim as a twig. Her hair is so blonde it appears white at times and she keeps it bobbed short, it barely needs any attending to since it's as straight as a whip. Her face is one that seems forever youthful despite any marks time lays on it and her eyes always seem to be brimming with joy. Father always says how he fell in her eyes and never bothered to climb back out. They're framed by thick lashes, not needing any touch of make up to look stunning, and a strange blue-green colour that never can decide what colour it wants to be.

Done with my over observant ways for the morning, I get ready and walk to school alone just like every day, lost in the sea of my own thoughts. I supposed I should be lonely, spending so much time alone, but I enjoy thinking my own strange private thoughts and not having to share them with others and risk ridicule. Everything is pretty much average until I see Sasuke Uchiha run past me. He's a rare sight; he normally heads out to the academy long before I even leave my house. I only ever see him in passing –and barely ever at that- but when I do I'm always reminded of my first day of school.

Before the future shinobi get shipped off to the academy they spend two years in normal school with the rest of us, learning the basic skills of life. On my very first day I made my way to school with a skip in my step, expecting nothing than the very best. I didn't think anyone would comment on my looks, besides maybe the polite complements I got from adults when I went to the market with my Mama. I have long blonde hair, not whitish like hers, mine is a stark buttery yellow. It falls straight until the ends of the strands, where it kinks and curls. No matter what I do to it, the ends of my stubborn hair refuse to straighten out and conform to the rest of my head. I suppose the curly ends are a gift from my Father, and he likes to joke that my hair is as stubborn as I am. I also have green eyes, a deep emerald green that stands out starkly on my face. These features, combined with my mother's cream complexion usually earned such comments as, "My how fair coloured you are." I thought nothing more of my characteristics coming into a class full of dark haired, dark eyed children.

However, my perception of my looks either getting complimented or ignored was not realised and instead I was received with mostly teasing for my alien looks. Of course, by alien I mean strange, not ET.

After being made fun of for the majority of my day I made good use of lunchtime. When the bell rang for lunch I followed the crowd of children heading for the playground, painfully aware now of my differences from the others, and sequestered myself to a remote corner. I felt so different and separate from the others that I did not deem myself good enough to mingle with them and sat quietly, bravely hanging for a few minutes before breaking down into bitter tears and muffled sobs.

Suddenly, I felt a gentle poke on my shoulder. Lifting my head I saw Sasuke crouching down directly in front of me with a quizzical look on his face.

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. He was a year older than me! I had a measly five years of life compared to his brilliant six! He was older than me and all the girls thought he was terribly handsome, and a shoo in to be a brilliant shinobi on top of all that. I was convinced there had to be some mistake until he spoke to me, "Why are you crying here all alone?"
Wiping my eyes I told him about how my class mates had rejected me because I was too different. I was composed of ridiculous, outlandish colours, while they could all take comfort in their similarities.

Sasuke considered this for a moment before getting to his feet and running off.

I was more miserable than ever, I thought for sure he was going to go tell the other older kids to come see the strange girl crying in the corner, they would all have a great laugh over the crying baby.

But before I could throw myself into a sea of misery, he came back. This time he had a piece of paper clutched in his hands. "I've got something for you." He said simply, handing me the sheet.

I accepted the gift and studied it. It was a drawing of a butterfly, with gold and green wings. Confused I looked back at him, not understand the point of the drawing.

"Butterflies are made out of all sorts of colours. When they make fun of you, you just have to remember that you're a butterfly. Your colours make you special." Sasuke grinned, pointing at the butterfly on the front pocket of my pink first day of school dress.

I never forgot him after that day. We never spoke again, of course, and I doubt that he even remembers me and the strange kindness he did for me. He probably doesn't realize what it meant to me, and how all this time it's helped me keep my head up through difficult situations. I ran home that day with my gift tucked safely away in my pocket and told my parents all about how I wanted to be a shinobi. That of course, was before I was tested to see what my chakra abilities were. I have no ability for nin or gen jutsu, what so ever. It's almost if I have no chakra at all.

Also, this was before the Uchiha tragedy. I treasure that memory as a forgotten piece of a boy left marred and scarred by unspeakable events.

Shaking such thoughts aside I trudge onwards to suffer through another day.

The day was miserable; I place my hand on my hip as I walk home. The burning didn't fade even a little bit over time like it usually does. It just got steadily worse and persistent. I bite down on my lower lip, trying to take my mind off it, when I walk into Kabuto.

"I'm so sorry!" I apologize, jumping back feeling embarrassed.

He gave me sickly sweet smile I remembered so well, "Don't worry about it, Chieri. No harm done. You look like you have something on your mind though, what's up?"

I begin to feel a little nervous. "I'm fine, thanks for asking. Just school stuff, you know?" I hedge looking for a way to get out of talking to him.

"Yeah that's right, you never went to the academy did you? You always said that you wanted to be a shinobi though. Why is that?"

If I was feeling nervous before, this only caused it to get worse; his questions struck me as extremely odd. I certainly didn't spend any of my time with Kabuto, and no one besides my parents knew how badly I wanted to go the academy. It wasn't exactly hot gossip, especially not after all these years. There was something in his tone too, underneath the sugary sweet voice there was an undertone of something more than just polite conversation or idle curiosity.

Warning bells started to screech in my head, and the pain in my hip started to get intense. I force a weak smile, "I was just a kid. I never had much talent after all. Well, I have to go now." I sidestep around him and march forward, before his suggestion stops me.

"Why don't I walk you home?"

Familiar chills dance up and down my spine causing me to repress a shiver. "No thanks." I continue to walk away without looking back.

"I insist." His voice turns hard and his hand clasps my arm roughly.

My eyes whip around trying to find help, but there's no one around, all the streets are empty. I know that I have to save myself and be smart about it.

I force my body to go limp, letting myself whimper in fright. Eventually his grip loosens and he tries to console me. "I'm not going to hurt you."

With courage and strength I don't really feel pull the oldest trick in the book. I rip my arm away from him and run savagely.

I can hear him pursuing me so I focus more on putting distance between us than my direction, until the pain in my hip gets worse.

The faster I run, the hotter the burn gets. I try to fight through it, but the pain causes me to limp.

I try to choke back the cries of pain as another fiery stab hits me nearly knocking my feet out from under me. I dodge into an alley jogging until I hit the dead end. I press my back against the wall behind me, facing front and waiting for Kabuto to catch up. I press both hands to white hot pain in my hip, tears stinging my eyes and air ripping in and out of my heaving chest, a metallic taste in the back of my mouth.

Without any warning, the pain goes away. I hold on for a beat or two, waiting for something to happen. But nothing does. "Huh," I mummer standing up right from a doubled over position I didn't realise I'd adopted.

Pain explodes. It's nothing like I've ever felt. It brands itself on my every cell. It fills my brain to the brim demanding to be felt and to have all my attention. My legs turn to jelly and wobble under me. I'd rather be sawed into bits and pieces. My sight fades in and out. All I can do is scream and scream. But even that gives no relief and just brings my stalker down on me.

I fall back against the wall and sink to my bottom, gagging and struggling for air all at the same time and the pain gradually begins to fade, and my screams turn into sobs. My vision clears and I can see Kabuto at the opposite end of the dead end alley. I lift my hand out, palm out trying to warn him off. A strange sensation floods me and I'm filled with a strange heat that doesn't burn, but feels like a wildfire bubbling under my skin.

Some many things are happening to me all at once, and my brain is scrambling trying to take it all in and process it at once. The thoughts kept coming; the heat under my skin, the absence of pain, Kabuto creeping closer every second, and my useless outstretched hand.

"Stay away," I squeak pitifully, begging.

"You're sick, I can help you." He promises, still coming closer.

My fingers twitch and fire erupts from my palm, filling the alleyway in an instant inferno.

As quickly as it happens, it stops. Kabuto is gone, leaving no trace so I know somehow he got away. I wonder if I'm crazy.

Shakily I get to my feet and wobble up the alley, inspecting the singes on the brick walls. The posters that hung there minutes before reduced to piles of ashes.

So I didn't imagine it, it really happened. This time, I don't think, I don't see, I just run blindly. I run and run and run until I collapse.

Gasping for air and my cheek planted firmly against the ground I open one eye and quickly look at my surroundings. I'm in someone's backyard. I shut my eye again, struggling to keep my mind blank.

"What are you doing here?" A male voice demands.

I don't know who it is; it could be Father for all I know. I don't wanna analyze a voice because that means I have to think and if I think, I'll remember. Automatically a lie spits out of my mouth. "I live here, go away."

There's a pause. Then, "Nobody lives here."

My eyes open all the way looking at the house in my direct line of vision. What I failed the notice the first time I looked around was the flag hanging by the door. The emblem on the flag left no doubt where I had stumbled in my running. Again another automatic response leaves my mouth without my permission, "Nobody lives here." I agree, "Nobody but a boy and his ghosts."

"Who the hell are you?" The voice demands again, this time very angrily.

I scramble to sit up, so I can get a good look at whom I know is questioning me. "Sasuke," I whisper.

I watch the emotions play across his features, anger, confusion, recognition, confusion again, and finally awe. "Butterfly?" He chokes out.

"Chieri," I correct, embarrassed as I push sweaty blonde hair out of my mouth and away from my face.

Quickly he drops his gruff attitude back down to cover the moment of softness. "Whatever your name is, what are you doing here?"

I open my mouth but no sound comes out, I don't know what to say, where to begin. My mouth is still hanging open as I search his face for a clue. I see concern flickering under his hard expression. In a rush, almost everything comes out; my dream, the snake man, my mark, the pain, the sleeplessness, how the pain was worse today before it exploded and nearly stopped my heart, being chased, the fire under my skin, and the physical fire.

I don't tell him about Kabuto, I just say it was a stranger. I don't know why, it was just out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Finally though, I'm out of breath and story so I stop.

"So all of a sudden you can do elemental jutsu? Do you still have the mark? What did it look like?" He fires the questions at me without pause.

"I- I don't know," I stutter brilliantly.

He snorts sarcastically, "Then why don't you look and see if it's still there?"

My cheeks heat, "I'm not going to do that! I can't do that here! It's on my hip."

For a quick moment it seems like a little flush of pink tints his cheeks before he turns his back and yells at me, "I'm not asking you to check in front of me! Geeze, what do you think I am?"

I'm still so confused about everything that's happened to me today that I don't have the patience to even consider a rational answer, "Well, you didn't specify anything! What was I supposed to think, you idiot?"

He whips back around getting in my face. "Idiot? Who are you calling an idiot, you idiot?!"

The proximity of his closeness mixed with his harsh words and tone causes me even more inner turmoil and confusion, stressing me out. Without warning I feel the strange fire under my skin again.

I gasp grapping my wrist and pointing my palm downwards. "Go get water, quickly!" I hiss between my clenched teeth.

With unbelievable speed he sets a bucket of water at my feet and I plunge my hand down in it.

He gives me a strange look, surprise mixed with pity. I pretend to ignore it.

He crouches next to me, much like all those years ago. "It's obvious you need help. Since I'm the one that found you, I feel responsible for you."

I find that logic difficult to swallow at best so I don't reply, just nod mutely.

"I'm going to show you how to gather up all that loose chakra running around. " He instructs me, "After we take care of that you're going to go check for that mark. You're also going to draw me a picture of it so I can do some research on it."

I nod silently again, grateful for the help. I draw my hand out of the bucket and give it a rueful shake.

I watch as Sasuke forms a simple hand sign, and I mimic it. I feel the energy in my body condense at the center. "Whoa," I gasp.

After I finish sketching the mark on a sheet of paper per our agreement, I ask, "Why are you doing all of this?"

He shrugs, looking at the drawing and avoiding my gaze. "I figure if you're walking around like a loose cannon you could light anyone or anything on fire by accident. Since I'm the only other one, besides you, who knows your story, if anything like that happens it's my fault. Out of the two of us I'm the only one who knows how to keep you under control. I can even show you how to master it."

Feeling embarrassed again I mummer, "Thank-you, Sasuke."

He grunts in reply to that. Then he says, "You can thank me by coming back tomorrow, this is gonna take a lot of work." He sighs in an annoyed fashion.

I stand up, brushing myself off and turn to leave.

"Hey, where are you going now?"
I glance over my shoulder at him, grinning. "Home. Don't you know what time it is? I gotta get home before my parents do. They'd freak out if they knew what was going on right now. Until I figure out what I'm going to do I want to keep things for them as normal as possible. You said come back tomorrow, and I will. I'll let you know about my mark then too, alright?"
He rolls his dark eyes at me and scoffs, "Fine, get out of here. I'll see you the same time tomorrow then, Butterfly."

"Chieri." I correct again before running off.

I guess you can say that's the first day that Sasuke Uchiha started to get under my skin.