Leaves On The Wind

Prologue

Rain

The wind swept over the lip of the small valley, howling as it whistled between the ancient hills. The moon's usually luminous face, hidden by turbulent thunder clouds, did little to banish the darkness of the night. Rain poured down from the heavens, creating miniature rivers that ran down the sides of the vale and forming ponds in the gullies at the bottom. Lightning danced across the horizon, illuminating the sparse forest that lay at the western end of the valley, and the tiny village at its heart. Windows glowing with the light of crackling hearths seemed like pinpricks in a blanket of darkness, the only signs of life in the shadowed world of the night. A winding road, visible only as a pale ribbon in the gloom, ran from one end of the vale to the other, rising over the top of the basin before streaking away into the world.

The village was of no great size or worth. An assortment of bars and taverns lined the main street, with a single shinobi outpost that had been long since abandoned standing alone on the western side of the small town, hunched on the side of the road like an old beggar. A cluster of crudely constructed houses sat beside the remnants of what had once been a large lake, its muddy depths riddled with the wastes of civilization. Several burned out ruins of what had once been homes were slowly being consumed by the growing forest, a testament to the devastation of the war that had taken so many lives all those years ago.

The old bar perched at the entrance to the village was well lit, being a favorite of the locals and travelers alike. The liquor was good, and many a worker would retire to the sake after a hard day's toil. Despite its popularity, business was small in a town this size, and the bar often had no more than a dozen customers at any one time. Travelers rarely stayed longer than the time it took to gulp down a quick drink, choosing instead to move on to the larger town no more than thirty miles away in the hopes of finding more comfortable lodgings. This did not disturb the village's residents, who enjoyed the solitude their isolation offered.

A loud crash echoed through the interior of the bar, momentarily drowning out the insistent drumming of the rain against the ancient wooden roof. A few patrons glanced around to the source of the disturbance, before sighing wearily and turning back to their own business. Despite the fact that travelers rarely stopped there, the tiny village's position on the border of the Fire and Grass Countries almost guaranteed that the few people that did stop there on their wanderings were not what the villagers considered the norm. Indeed, the person seated at the table in the corner with two of the village's farmers was living proof of the peculiarity of the rare individuals who stopped in the quiet town.

She was what many men would consider beautiful, although the fierce scowl twisting her features would have been enough to send the bravest running. Blond hair hung to her shoulders, and there was a frightening fury burning in her hazel eyes. Long cracks ran out along the table from the point where her fist had struck it, and the broken shards of what had once been her cup lay in a puddle of sake by her elbow. Coins were scattered across the surface of the remains of the table and around the legs of the chairs. The two locals' eyes were darting between the money pouch hanging from her belt, and the anger burning in her face.

"Double or nothing!" she growled, looking first at one man, and then the other. The two villagers looked at each other nervously. On the one hand, the blond woman seemed to have an unending supply of the worst luck they had ever seen, successfully losing more than a dozen times in a row. But on the other hand … they shivered as their gaze landed on the long cracks running along the table.

The smaller man, a balding fellow with beady black eyes, glanced shrewdly at his partner before leering at the stranger, "I think you'd best take what you've got left. You're going to have enough trouble where you're going, what with the money you've used up here."

"Just one more game!" the blond insisted fiercely, "I've got the cash!"

Greed glinted in the black eyed man's eye, but as he opened his mouth, the other man placed a gnarled hand on his arm. The smaller glanced at the other for a moment, and then turned away, scowling. The taller, a gray haired man with weary brown eyes, seemed to gather his courage, and looked directly up into the intimidating woman's eyes, "I am sorry, but you will have to find someone else to gamble with. My brother and I are done here." The two men stood up, and nodding shortly to the bartender, stepped out into the rain drenched night.

The blond stared after them for a moment. Once she was certain they were gone for good, she scowled darkly, and brought her fist crashing down again, this time hitting the table so hard that the legs collapsed. Muttering curses about fools who wouldn't know a good idea if it slapped them in the face, she pushed herself out of her seat and lurched over to the bench at the back of the small bar, throwing herself onto one of the rickety stools.

The bartender watched her warily. Since her arrival in the village a few days ago, she had visited the bar every night, her thirst for sake managing to balance out the destruction her incredible strength caused. Her companion, a smaller, dark haired woman who appeared to be much more conservative than her fellow traveler, was a blessing. The blond woman's terrible power could destroy the tiny establishment in the course of one night; if the smaller woman hadn't interfered each night as she usually did, the bartender wasn't sure his bar would still be standing.

He started as she turned her burning gaze on him, "Well, what are you waiting for? I need another drink. Unless it's customary for people here to let their patrons die of thirst!" The round faced man bobbed hastily and turned to the door behind the counter. If he was lucky, his insanely strong customer wouldn't notice that he was taking longer than necessary to retrieve more of the alcoholic sake that she craved.

Tsunade glared at the retreating form of the bartender; her predicament was difficult enough without foolish peasants making it harder for her. The villagers had been cool at best since both she and Shizune had arrived three nights ago, which did nothing to help the female Sannin's already foul mood. To make matters worse, the incessant rain had not relented since the two travelers' arrival, rendering the mountain passes to the west impassable, and thereby delaying their departure, at least until the downpour ended.

After several long minutes, there was a shuffling of feet as the bartender came back from the shadowed back room, his eyes downcast as he hurriedly placed a flask that was filled to the brim with sake and a new cup before Tsunade. He furtively glanced up into her hazel eyes, saw the barely masked anger there, and hastily turned away again, searching for some menial task to do. Anything to get away from the furious gaze and mighty strength of his patron.

Tsunade grunted in appreciation as she poured herself another drink of the alcoholic beverage. She finished the cup in a mere gulp, and was reaching to grab the flask again when a smaller hand grasped her outstretched fingers. Tsunade scowled fiercely as she turned to face Shizune. The Sannin's apprentice's face was pale and rain streaked, her jet black hair plastered to her head. She was staring at Tsunade with a nearly flawless mask of emotionless serenity, the only crack in her façade a slight twitch of reproving irritation at the corner of her mouth.

"Let me go," Tsunade growled as she made another grab for the pitcher of sake. With a single hand sign, Shizune pushed the flask further down the bench, away from the annoyed Sannin. She gave her teacher a warning glance, before reaching into her tattered money pouch and dropping a few coins onto the bench top. Grabbing Tsunade by the shoulder, she dragged the older woman toward the door, ignoring the elite shinobi's heated protests, and the pointed stares of the other occupants of the bar.

The rain fell heavily on the street. Puddles lined the roadside, and water poured off rooftops in streams. Children's wide eyed stares, their pale faces barely visible in foggy windows, followed Shizune and Tsunade as the kunoichi pulled her sensei down the street. The Sannin grumbled under her breath, but otherwise made no noise as her apprentice led her in the direction of the long abandoned shinobi tower on the edge of town. The remains of the door creaked on its hinges as Shizune pushed it open, and, once making sure no one was watching, hustled Tsunade into the interior of the hulking ruin. The only bar in the entire town did not have any rooms to rent, and the villagers were far too suspicious of outsiders to allow them to stay in their own homes, so the two travelers had been forced to seek shelter where they could.

Despite, its rough outer appearance, the inner rooms of the outpost were largely intact. A single lamp hung from the centre of the low ceiling, its dim light barely serving to illuminate the inside of the abandoned outpost. The roof was unbroken, as were most of the walls apart from a long, thin crack running down the northern side. An iron stairwell ran up the east side, with a trapdoor at its head that led up onto the watch tower. Two sleeping mats were unfurled in the corner, the two female ninjas' kunai pouches lying hidden beneath the straw upon which the mats lay.

As soon as the door was shut behind them, Shizune swung to face Tsunade, both disapproval and accusation gleaming in her dark eyes. "You said you wouldn't go back again," she said quietly.

The former kunoichi of Konoha glared at her student for another moment, and then sighed wearily. She dropped herself onto a rickety stool by the door and dropped her head into her hands. After a moment she looked up, her hazel eyes boring into Shizune's dark ones, "I know what I said. And yet I find that I can't help myself." She lowered her eyes again. "There is nothing you can do, so don't concern yourself."

Accusation faded to understanding in the blink of an eye. Shizune stepped forward, and hesitantly put a hand on her sensei's shoulder. "You had the dream again, didn't you?" Tsunade didn't say anything, but nodded mutely. Her apprentice sighed and reached into her belt pouch, extracting a small flask and a small porcelain cup. Seeing the glint in the female ninja's eye, she shook her head firmly, "I think you've had enough of the sake tonight. This is just a simple brew I cooked up to allow you to sleep easier."

Tsunade said nothing as her friend finished preparing the tea, muttering a word of thanks as the younger woman handed her the steaming cup. She closed her eyes and sniffed the sharp scent of the brew, its herbal essence serving to soothe her aching head. Nodding to herself, she lifted the cup to her lips and drained it in a single swallow. She grimaced as the heat from the freshly made tea scalded her throat, but slowly relaxed as she felt warmth spreading out along her arms and legs, reaching to the very tips of her fingers and toes, chasing away the cold brought on by the icy night air.

Shizune studied her sensei over the brim of her cup. The jutsu that the Sannin used to give herself an eternal figure of youthfulness did nothing to hide the shadowed bags beneath her eyes, or the way her shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Shizune had not seen her in a condition like this since they had first left Konoha, right after the death of her uncle Dan. Indeed, the dark haired woman half suspected that the nightmares that Tsunade was having were nightly apparitions of the loved ones she had lost in the war with Iwa.

Shizune frowned, her gaze roaming across the room before landing on the swirling contents of her cup. Tsunade was usually more open with her apprentice on matters that concerned her than most people would think was appropriate, and yet on the slightest mention of her dreams, she became stubbornly close mouthed. Only when she was totally and completely inebriated would she expose her feelings, and even then Shizune could not tell if what she said was true, or was merely the ramblings of a drunkard. Regardless, the female Sannin was not yet ready to come to her willingly, and until then, she would have to be patient.

"The farmers say that the rain should have stopped within the next two days," Tsunade said suddenly, causing Shizune to look up, "The passes should be open within a week from then, if the weather holds. We can be well into Grass Country by the end of the month."

Shizune frowned, "If they're wrong, and the rains don't stop, we could be caught up here for as long as a month, and it's only a couple of weeks after that before winter sets in. If those passes are snowed shut, we won't be able to attempt another crossing here until at least next spring."

Tsunade groaned, probably at the thought of being cooped up in the tiny village for any longer than a few days. Shizune felt the same way; the border town was so small and isolated that there was nothing to do but sit and wait out the storm. And unless the weather was going to stop as soon as her sensei seemed to think, then the two travelers would soon be out of money as well. They could not stay much longer without Tsunade using up the rest of the precious little they had.

"We could take an alternate route," Shizune suggested, "If we move quickly enough, we may be able to reach the border of Waterfall by the end of next week, and be back on course within a week of that."

Tsunade was about to reply when there was loud bang as someone hammered on the door from outside. In a well practiced motion, the Sannin grabbed a kunai from one of the pouches beneath the straw and rushed to the side of the door, already gathering some of her chakra into the fist that gripped her weapon. All signs of her earlier inebriation were gone, replaced by firm authority in the face of a possible threat. The younger woman followed her rapidly, standing behind the door with her kunai at the ready. While it was unlikely that a foe of any sort would attack them in such an isolated place, it was sometimes better to be on the safe side.

Tsunade nodded at her shortly, before peeping through a crack in the door out into the rain soaked night. She frowned; in the space before the door where the mysterious visitor should have been was only empty air. She opened the door a crack and called out into the night, her voice thick with suspicion, "Is there anyone out there?" Only silence answered her call.

Shizune watched as Tsunade's eyes roved up and down, scanning the night. But it was only when she was only when she was almost looking straight down that she reacted. An expression of the utmost shock crossed her youthful features, her grip on her kunai loosening enough to allow it to fall to the ground. Shizune paled and tightened her own grip on her weapon. If whatever lay beyond the door was bad enough to make her sensei nervous, the younger woman was going to be in for a hard fight.

However, she could only stand in stunned silence as Tsunade wrenched open the door, leaving her kunai where she had dropped it. Of course, because she had been preparing for an assault, she had already focused a lot of her chakra into her arm, and thus she pulled the ancient door completely off its hinges. Shizune leapt in front of the dazed Sannin, kunai poised to strike. And then she felt her own arm go slack, her weapon dropping from her hand.

Sitting on the doorstep was a scroll. It was tightly rolled, with only a red wax seal pressed against the point where the paper ended. And, Shizune noticed with a start, all the rain seemed to fall away from the scroll without actually touching it. There was not a drop of moisture on any part of it!

Tsunade snatched up the scroll and carried it inside, turning it over in her hands as she examined it carefully. Lifting the door back into place in front of the newly created hole in the wall, Shizune followed her teacher to the small circle of light beneath the lamp hanging from the ceiling. From this close up, she could feel the small amount of chakra that had been imbued within the tiny wax seal, protecting the scroll from damage on its probably long journey.

Shizune felt a slight brush of chakra from Tsunade as the older woman tested the scroll for any traps. Having assured that there were no unpleasant surprises awaiting them, the Sannin broke the seal and opened the scroll, her eyes instantly darting across the spidery script scrawled across the paper. The dim light didn't permit the dark haired woman to read it herself, but by the growing scowl on her teacher's face, whatever had been scribed in the message was not good news.

With a muttered curse, Tsunade finished reading and with a vicious tearing noise, ripped the scroll in half. Shizune shook her head at her sensei's temper. She bent to pick up the torn paper, but jumped back as the remains of the scroll suddenly burst into flame, destroying what was left of the message. She looked up at Tsunade, but the older woman's eyes revealed nothing but her displeasure, and a hint of something that Shizune didn't recognize. But years of dealing with the legendary kunoichi had taught the younger patience; and so she waited.

Finally, the fierce scowl on the Sannin's face faded into a firm expression, an authority Shizune had not seen since her shinobi days entering her voice when she spoke, "Get your things together; we're leaving."

"But the passes won't be open for at least a week," the younger woman objected, her mind searching for an explanation as to why her teacher would suggest such a thing, "And its sheer suicide to attempt them in this weather." And then something clicked. She stared at her sensei, "Unless of course, we are no longer going to the Grass."

Tsunade nodded grimly, "It will be a hard journey, and I'm no longer certain exactly what our welcome will be where we're going." She stared intently at her protégé. Shizune nodded, her suspicions correct.

"We're going home."

Turbulent clouds hung low over the tiled rooftops of the houses, their swirling innards hidden from the eyes of the people far below. Tall trees rose around on every side of the village, with a single, white peak that stabbed the sky like a gigantic spear rising high on one side, its peak scratching the dark underbellies of the thunderheads surrounding it. On the very top of the huge stone, a tiny black figure, barely visible between the bright flashes of lightning, stood like an immortal statue, his features all but indiscernible in the darkness.

Bright orange hair, inexplicably undisturbed by the roaring wind, was held back by a forehead protector bearing four identical straight lines, with a fifth slashing horizontally across the others. His face was hidden in shadow, only his eyes, glowing like bright red orbs, were visible in the darkness, burning with an unnatural light.

The figure tilted his head for a moment, as if listening to something only he could hear. In the back of his mind, a near inaudible voice whispered to him. It is done. The shadowed man nodded once, almost imperceptibly. A faint smile curved his invisible lips, as he looked back to the village far below and the churning clouds above.

The first drops of rain started to fall.

It had begun.

Hi, this is my first Naruto attempt so it would be good if I could get some early writing evaluation. This story is going to be covered in two parts, the first being the shortest, which covers the Chuunin exams. Part two is much longer, but i can't tell you what it's about, or it would ruin the story.

I love to write huge action sequences, as will be seen in future chapters. Character development is a weak point, but hopefully it'll be a great story anyway. I understand some people don't like Naruto/Sakura, and I'm sorry but that's just too bad. I haven't seen past the second stage of the Exams in the anime, so there will be big OOC for characters like Shizune, Tsunade, Jiraiya etc. as I'm basing their personalities on research from wikipedia and other naruto sites. One question; do you want Romanized Japanese or English for jutsus? Oh, and I'm not sure if it's actually true, but let's say for the sake of this story, that Tsunade was 'running from her past' when she left Konoha after Dan's death.

If you've been reading TSH or FTEOTW, don't worry. I'm not abandoning those stories. It was series of unfortunate events that kept me from writing for four weeks and lost me all my files. But never fear, the show must go on, and so it shall.

Enjoy and, if you could, feel free to review.

Red.