A youngster collapsed back into the still-dewy grass and flowers which dotted the meadow. The early, lazy mornings were her favorite time of day; when no one was yet rushing around to shove every minute of every day into some sort of arrangement. She was too young, at eight, to fully grasp the importance of a categorized day, she mused. To her, it seemed rather presumptuous to try and make the day, and time, for that matter, bend to one's will, much less to continue to do so forever. But alas, she was eight, and eight she decided to remain in discerning how grown-ups accomplished this monumental task of controlling time itself.

She inhaled deeply and filled her small lungs with as much meadow-and-dew scent as she possibly could; she hoped that would tide her over until next weekend when she was able to return. These lazy days of rest that arrived only once a week seemed few and far between to her.

She was glad that her father had been given the day to spend with them as well, seeing as he didn't often have the chance to go with her and her brother on these little jaunts out to the peaceful, damp meadow. She could tell his presence appeased her previously edgy mother, and they had disappeared off somewhere into the small wooded areas to share a pleasant breakfast together.

The young girl sighed and rolled over to her right to gather more of the cool and refreshing morning dew on her skin, and as she giggled with the wet contact she realized her brother was watching her antics in the meadow with some glee from a branch of a tree some yards away and above.

She controlled herself enough to not immediately rush him and tackle him—that was, if she could catch him. Speed was one of his accepted skills, beyond his lack of control.

A smirk formed slowly on her face, and a snicker managed to find its way out of her throat. Ah, yes. She had a plan to get around that. Luckily for her, she knew well enough how to circumvent his abilities. He wouldn't get away with finding amusement from her ridiculous enjoyment—besides, it had been at least nine days since last they were alone enough to fight using their abilities—far too long under their guardian's respective thumbs.

--

He watched with mounting delight as his sister continued to roll around giggling in the wet soil and grass. He'd been certain for a moment there when she stiffened and slowed that he'd been sensed, but she'd simply sat up and, so quickly he almost hadn't caught it, thrown a small root or stick, or something, out from under her into the undergrowth. She's rubbed her backside for a second before collapsing back into the blooming spring flowers and—snickering?

Wait, what? This wasn't the same giggle as before…

He frowned before tilting his head and reviewing her throw again. Had something happened…?

Suddenly his inherited thought processes had given him reason to worry over his inherently aggressive and judicious sister. He started to shift his weight to make a quiet move of his own—

He then began to make a gasp, but wasn't even allowed to finish that, either.

A dulled kunai (all his mother allowed him and his sister to posses outside of supervised activity) pinched his skin at the base of his neck.

"Oh, sh—"

The real Tomoe kicked him in the back off the tree branch with enough force to shake the entire limb. She heard a slightly wet plop from about ten feet below and nodded in a self-satisfied manner.

"Teach you to even think about making fun of me, Arashi." She muttered with some vehemence down to the eight-year-old boy sprawled below. She knew he could hear her very well.

--

The parents of these twins currently engaging in their own form of ninja warfare watched lazily from a not-too-distant spot comfortably settled in the wooded meadow. As their young daughter had discovered, the warm, wet mornings on days of relaxation forced even the most alert of ninja veterans into a peaceful state.

This peaceful state was currently working in Tomoe's favor as Sakura and Naruto chuckled together over this activity reminiscent of their own early years which they were inclined to let be, for now.

"Why ruin a perfect morning, one which the council has so graciously given our overworked Hokage, by expending charka to teach them a useful lesson?" Sakura muttered into her husband's ear. He pulled away to smile gleefully at her.

"'Course not. I seem to enjoy recalling similar behavior a long time ago, eh, Sakura-chan?"

Her face scrunched up a bit at that, and he hastily retracted, "Well, maybe not so much enjoyment, okay?"

She shrugged and relaxed against him. After a few minutes, though, the yells and thumping sounds were getting repetitive. Naruto only moved, however, when the birds were disturbed in the bush seven feet away. He'd been watching those birds. He supposed it was time to stop the twins from completely shattering the morning stillness.

Time to re-teach lesson number one in the Uzumaki household – there was a very good reason their father was both Hokage and the most unpredictable ninja in Konoha.