I don't own Naruto, just my OC's, and please forgive me, I am doing this as an experiment.

You know, for some people, being called Kristen Stewart is considered a compliment, or at least being compared to her by use of a simile. But to someone like me, I took it as an insult and a warning that I needed to work on moving the muscles in my face. Unfortunately, I had to have a mirror to work on those expressions, but fortunately, I could work on moving the muscles in my arm right at the moment the asshole said that. His nose is broken now, and that is the reason why I'm running at the moment.

Where exactly am I running to you ask? My aunt Vivian's house. Why not my parent's you ask? Because they aren't in the picture at the moment. No, not in the whole orphaned child sap act, they're just literally not in the picture, haven't been since I was seven. Not in the picture as in they don't give a damn about me unless they want to come around for money to blow down in Atlantic City or the good ole Sin City. I'm sixteen now, but you wouldn't know unless Aunt Viv hadn't made me shave my face regularly. Being 4'5 and a sixteen year old boy is not a good mix in a highschool occupied by a bunch of assholes. I huffed and turned my head over my shoulder to see Jacob Styles suddenly lunge at me from two feet away.

I dodged to the left quickly and brought my left arm behind me 120 degrees and felt a jarring quake in my elbow as I felt it connect with his cheekbone. Jacob let out a hrmph noise and fell down, I didn't bother looking where at, I just tried to hit mach 5 as I burned down Oak lane. The houses were becoming less and less spaced together and started to grow farther and farther apart with every block. Any second now I would see Turkey Road come up and take a right, then it was five more blocks to freedom. I know for a fact that the front door was unlocked, and I also know that Aunt Viv is out of town at the moment.

"Get back here you little shit!" Some guy yelled. "Wait till we get our hands on you little FAG!" Another threw in. I raised up my hand and gave them the universal rude gesture, then lowed my hand and put it into my coat pocket and found my house key attached to a foot long lanyard I had sewn into for just this case. Been caught on the front porch trying to pull my key out of my backpack, got plenty of bruises out of that one, they caught a bloody lip and almost broken arm. I burst into a Cheshire cat like grin when I saw Turkey Road come up and hopped over the culvert on the side of the road and then hopped over the other one to save a few seconds. My feet slide on the slice pavement and my knees buckles slightly. It had sprinkled for an hour around lunch today.

I had a little under half a mile to go before I hit Aunt Viv's house, I had to go around two bends and up one hill that was surrounded by woods, a lot of woods. I went around the first bend, it was long and steep and almost did a 90 degree turn, it would be a bitch getting up with the slick pavement, but luckily they're many paths that go around these bends, and I know most of them. Today I'm going to utilize trail F, and now I just turn left. Hey, I rhymed, and I'll soon be home in no time. Okay, time to stop being an idiot.

The trail showed partial use, a slightly worn line between the trees on the ground. this was the outer edge of the woods, so the tree's were newer, smaller. And on this trail it'd take me six minutes to get halfway to home, then it would be eight minutes to get home, as long as they didn't pull up the car. I made them ditch it when I went down Highway five, then suddenly turned around and went down a side road, they had to stop in the middle of traffic and a cop was nearby. The car was an SUV, and I'm sure that it was full of football players. I had punched Billy Huggins in the nose around sixth period, and when seventh ended I stuck out of the school through a window in the back of the school, that threw the bastards off until a cheerleader saw me running out the side road. Next thing I know, I'm running down Highway five with a SUV trailing behind me and the horn blaring. That was a good thirty minutes and six resting stops ago. Damn it, and I forgot my bike at school, fucking assholes. They just had to park by the bike rack out front.

I stopped about thirty feet away from the road and leaned up against a thin tree and took a deep breath. The weather today was just barely above cold as balls, around fifty eight degrees, and this wool coat was really making it feel warm. I moved my messager bag to where I could reach inside and unbuckled the flap. Reaching into it I found my sweating water bottle. Smiling, hey I'm working my facial muscles, I pull it out and unscrew the cap and take a huge swig.

Breathing again, I took another swig and then screwed the cap back on and put the bottle in the bag. Taking a few more breathes, I finally pushed off the tree and started running again. I stopped slightly at the edge of the road and looked both sides, when I saw a slight flash of silver and blue, crap the school colors. I booked it down the road and didn't bother looking back. Eight minutes, eight more fucking minute. "FEET DON'T FAIL ME NOW!" I shouted aloud.

"There he is!" One of the idiots shouted. Then I heard a slamming and a revving of an engine.

"OH SHIT!" I yelled again, then tried to go for an extra burst of speed. Damn it, damn it. Where the hell are those other paths? I heard a slight squealing of tires but didn't bother to look back. I heard the engine rev again and it sounded like it was getting closer.

One of the assholes did a cowboy whoop then yell. "RUN YOU LITTLE FAGGOT!" Oh for the love of, you tell one girl that you're gay to get her to leave you alone and the next thing you know someone clever enough tapes a bundle of sticks to your locker and slashes your tires in the same day.

I jump over the right side culvert to a slight clearing in between the woods and culvert. This way those assholes couldn't try to run me over. Five more minutes, no wait I see the lightning struck tree coming up, two more minutes. The SUV pulls up along me on the road, I glance at it to see something get chucked out the window. I try to lean forward more but it hits me in the shoulder and knocks me off balance for a few steps. "ARRGH, ASSHOLES!" I yell at them, catching another object being handed to the bastard that threw the first one. Is that a… no way, a goddamn BRICK?! He throws it and I dive forward and it misses me. "Hah, you missed you dumb fucking shit." I throw at him.

"SHUT UP!" he yells, then he's handed another one. "Get closer Charlie, I'm gonna nail this cocksucker."

"TRY YOU ILLITERATE SIMIEAN!" I yell at him, then he throws the brick. I turn towards it and stick my arms out and catch it. I raise the brick up and glare at them as I get closer and closer to my driveway. "You know what? I take that back." I tell him, then I throw the brick back at him, but ahead of his direct path. It sails in an arc and the SUV catches up with it. The brick hits him in the forehead and sends him back into the SUV. The car swerves slightly and comes to a skidding halt. "THAT'S AN INSULT TO SIMEANS!" I yell back as I laugh and continue on. I started running faster when I saw the beat up driveway. I heard the car start up again as I turned into the driveway. So close… So close.

I risked a look back at the SUV and saw it turn into the driveway. I looked forward and saw the house looming closer and closer. They're really three ways to get into the house, the door on the side garage, the back door that was easy to get to since it was attached to a open air rock patio that lead out to a pool, and of course the front door. I started running across the lawn and my foot hit the little concrete runway in front of the steps in a few strides. Within six more strides I was up to the door and had the key in the lock. My had took a few seconds to turn the key, and as I heard it click open the door open I also heard the SUV pull up to the end of the driveway at the side garage and some doors open. "SHIT!" I curse. I quickly pull out the key and push the door inward, I heard a yell and see the appearance of a jock running up the sidewalk that leads up to the front door.

I jump into the house and quickly turn around to see the jock running up the steps. "Don't you dare close-" I cut him off by slamming the door and then locking the dead bolt in place. Then the door thuds and I hear him banging on it with his hand. "FUCKING FAGGOT!" he yelled loudly.

I lean over to the side and look out the small glass side. "Think of a better insult you moron." I taunt him. He slams his fist into the glass but I just grin and turn around and am greeted by the familiar parlor of the two story house. The big stairs that are on the right wall and then wrap up to the left. The office to the right of the staircase in a separate room. The dining room in the left and straight ahead is the living room with a hallway in between that leads to Viv's room to the right and the kitchen, informal dining and living room and garage. I race upstairs and then take a left to go to my room at the end of the hall.

I get to my room and immediately go to my bed and throw my bag onto it and then go to the window that overlooks the end of the driveway. Pushing the black out curtains aside I see six other jocks leaning against the car, well, the one I hit with the brick yes, the others were milling around looking angry and stupid. The jock that was banging on the door earlier came up to the SUV and started yelling at the others. "Oh, please do something stupid." I beg as I pull apart the curtains further and pull up the blinds to get a better look as I back away towards my dresser. My hand rested on the top drawer handle as I watch the lead jock lean through an open window of the SUV and then he pulled out a baseball bat. "Oh, thank you." I say aloud looking up at the ceiling.

Gleefully, I quickly pulled open the drawer and my eyes automatically rested upon the black leather gun case in the middle of the drawer. I pulled it out and placed it on top of the dresser and unzipped it, then opened the flap all the way. Resting upon red dyed rabbit's fur was a aged and blued Webley Fosbery Automatic revolver. The zig-zag grooves etched into the eight shot cylinder looked seamlessly perfect, the polished oak handle gleamed darkly. Smiling, I picked it up and pushed the top half back by the part of the barrel closest to the cylinder. The hammer cocked backwards and then snapped forward again, the hammer in the rear back position.

The Fosbery, or Fos as I called it, originally belonged to Uncle Leo, Viv's ex husband. He was a avid gun collector, and this was a gem to find. But when Viv divorced him shortly after I came here, she won it in the settlement, she asked for it because she asked me which one I liked best. Leo was a douche and an ass, so no hard feelings. The Fos was made in 1903 and chambered in .38 ACP, not the stopping power of the .455 Webley round, but hey, take what you get. I heard another yell and grinned as I went to the window and put the Fos on the sill and opened it slowly.

"HEY!" one of the jocks shouts. I smile and wave at them, then lean over and pick up the Fos. I sit on the sill with one leg up and resting on it to block the view of the Fos. "Think you're so smart you little FAG!" one of the jocks yells.

"Smarter than you?" I ask with a grin, I look up in mock contemplation and shake my head. "Then yes I do."

"You're DEAD! You HEAR ME?! DEAD!" the one with the bleeding forehead yells, I see Jacob styles stand up beside him, he had a lovely little road rash on his cheek. He's holding a brick in his hand and starts to pitch his arm back.

I quickly pull out the Fos and aim it at the front yard and fire it in one swift motion. The shot echoes through out the room and the space around, the Fos flips upward slightly and kicks the cylinder backward, cocking it again and rotating the cylinder. See the use for the grooves now?. The jocks hit the ground and Jacob drops the brick. I grin and move it to point it at the lead jock. "Now, I suggest you all get in your fucking car, and get the hell off my Aunt's land."

"Th…those are just blanks." Jacob yells and stands up. The others all get up and do an agreement chant.

"Oh really?" I ask, then motion with the Fos. "Look that way." I tell them. They do and see the small dirt slide and then crater in the earth about 10 yards away. "Now, the first one was real, but the others may be blank." I say shrugging my shoulders in the 'maybe/possibly/whatever' way. "But then again," I smile wickedly. "Maybe not." Within seconds, they all load up and drive off. "Hnn, though so." I say gleefully happy, then get off the sill and close the window with hand and put the blinds and curtains back in place. I turn back to my dresser and hit the latch on the left side of the gun and the pull the barrel forward. It pops open and hinges like a door, the middle of the cylinder pushes up slightly, but I stop it about halfway before the rest of the bullets could be ejected. I grab the still warm casing and pull it out.

I put the casing on the dresser and look down into the drawer and see an open case of .38 bullets and pluck one and load it into the spent chamber and then close the gun. Then the phone decides to ring. Sighing I put the Fos back on the case and race out of my room after grabbing my backpack and down the stairs and head to the kitchen and grab the phone that sits on the center island. I didn't own a cellphone, didn't see a point. It allowed people to find you easier, I.E, my parents. And smart phones turned people dependent and dumb. Besides, what the hell is wrong with talking to people face to face or over a damn phone instead of texting? I pick up the phone and press accept. "Hello?"

"Zachariah Isaac Squire, you best tell me what the hell you did to deserve In School Suspension in six seconds before I come home early and make you live out in the empty jacuuzi!" Aunt Viv says dangerously. Viv's a lawyer that specializes in corporate stuff, so her pay is good, but she's away a lot on her job around the world. If she used my whole name, then damn she is pissed.

"Hey Viv, who's Naples?" I ask calmly as I go the fridge and pull out a can of V8 fusion.

"Did you hear a damn word I said?" she asks.

I sigh and open the can and take a sip. "Billy Huggins said that I looked like Bella Swan, well actually it was Kristen Steward, but he basically went to twilight on the reference." I took another sip.

Viv sighed. "Alright, I'm starting to see a good reason, but why exactly did he say that you look like Kristen Stewart?"

I sigh again. "Because I have no facial expression and I'm going to end up screwing a sparkly Fairy."

Viv barked with laughter but ended up coughing. "Alright…alright… hah. Damn I needed that. Alright, you're off the hook. But next time, intimidate the asshole would you, I don't want your principal to call me again. One, she's a dumb bitch. And Two, it scared me like the first time." my heart skipped a beat slightly when she mention the first time someone called about me to her.

I lean against the fridge and sigh. "Yeah, sorry. Didn't mean for that to happen." I hated thinking about it. Just like I hated my parents every damn time they came around demanding money, or threatening Viv to sue her for custody of me every time she said no. It reminded me every time about what they did, what they forced me to do. God, I need a fucking therapist, or a big roll of bubble wrap. After all, therapy is expensive, bubble wrap is cheap.

"Yeah, me too." She says. Reminding me of how much we both really don't talk about, me being here. We ignore it, for both our sakes. I deny that I ever lived anywhere else when around her, and she doesn't talk about never wanting to be a parent, never wanting to deal with a kid. Especially a damaged kid that would possibly require actual emotion to take care of. "So, see you next week then. You've got food?"

"Yeah." I say making a mental list. "I've got ramen, pasta, leftover pizza, my basic food groups." She laughs.

"Good, take care of yourself, and don't forget to go to school."

"Yeah, and don't get sold into the human trafficking rings." I tell her. She laughs and hangs up. I sigh and go to the phone housing and put it there and go to the informal living room and drain the rest of the V8 and head to the TV. I stop and look into the mirror that's in the other living room that's visible from the informal living room. It showed a short kid wearing black shoes, lighter tinted black jeans, a grey wool Eisenhower style jacket that's zipped up and buttoned, the sleeves down to my middle thumbs, wearing fingerless black cloth gloves and with a black hoodie sticking out the back. My light brown/slightly black hair skewed about messily like morning bed head. My black rimmed glasses made my skin look paler than actuality. God, I am the shorter male version of Kristen Steward. I try smiling into the mirror and happily see that my face actually moves, I then wiggle my eyebrows and other ranges facial emotions, proud that I have more than three.

"Now I can rest in peace." I joke aloud as I pull my Ipod classic out of my backpack and throw myself onto the couch, enjoying the coldness of the house. Why turn on the heat when you love the cold? Sighing, I turn on my Ipod and put my earbuds and start my Mindless Self Indulgence playlist. I needed to look at my arm, anh, do it later.

-Next day-

I pulled on my fingerless black gloves and shook my head to Skrillex 'With your friends (long drive)'. Today's Saturday, that means it's my day for target practice and just practically a excuse to walk around outside and listen to music. I pulled on my wool coat over my XL brown Henley style long sleeve shirt. It was in the low sixties with wind chill today, so I didn't need to zip up my coat. I pick up the Fos, still in the gun case, and with car place it in my messager bag alongside eight boxes of ammo stacked on the far side. Then came my portable speaker, my over the ear headphones, and a small box full of metal full moon clips made to hold eight shots.

You just load the bullets in through the inside and put each one in a groove, then all you have to do is pick up the clip and pop it into the cylinder. I had three already loaded, then a small box full of ten others. My Ipod and ear buds where in my coat pocket, my wallet and balance book in my pants pocket. Out of sheer paranoia I brought along my Ipod charger in my bag, actually, it's out of sheer force of habit, I always pack it because I use my bag for car trips. So really, it never left the bag unless I wanted to transfer songs onto it. I put in my earbuds and pressed play and soon Ellie Goulding's playing and I head off. The main trail I use for Saturday's is behind the house and leads further up the mountain. My spot is the creek that's about forty minutes hike from here and a few more different trails.

I grabbed a plastic bag full of cans on my way out and soon started blazing the trail. I had brought my water bottle with a charcoal filter in it this time, never know when you need water. I was halfway through the bottle and nearly nine songs done when I finally reached the creek. The creek itself was about maybe six feet deep and flowed a mild pace, enough to make a soothing running water noise. The banks on each side was a mild mixture of earth, moss and rocks. And about thirty feet away from me was a fallen tree about three feet in diameter and was in the process of rotting, albeit slowly. I walked to it, my feet crunching on some of the bigger rocks. As soon as I got to the log, I paused my Ipod and pulled out my earbuds and put them in my pocket and took my bag off my shoulders and put it down on the tree in the more flattened spot, then unlatched it.

I didn't bother taking out the entire case, I just unzipped it and pulled out Fos and then put my bag behind the tree. I put the cans in the trees and sit on the tree and try to shoot them out. Grabbing the seven inch barrel I pushed back on the gun and it went backwards, then I let go and it snapped back into place. I was about to lean over and grab the plastic bags of cans when I heard shuffling, then a few snickers. Shit, who the hell followed me? Crap, it may be the local fish and game guy, he's passed threw a few times. I quickly leaned over the tree and put Fos back into my bag and pulled it closer to the trunk and stuffed it between the big dirt clump that was still attached to the roots. Then I turned around and layed down on the log and put the cans on the opposite side. Putting my hands behind my head, I laid down and stared up at the sky, it was gray and bleak with clouds, in my opinion, a perfect day.

I concentrated on the noises and pinned down that they where coming from the trail I used, more than two, but not so sure of the exact number. "Heh, looks like you were right Billy." I hear the familiar voice of Jacob Styles, oh damn it all, and I just put of Fos.

"Tholdh You," I heard a nasally clouded voice, like someone who recently had his nose smashed in. Well, la di da. Billy Huggins. I bolt up right and look back at where I came from and sure enough, here he comes, along with four other guys, one being Jacob Styles. He sneers at me with a gauze packed nose, his eyes black and cheeks swollen. "Founth you littlth shith." He says mockingly. He then pulls something out of his pants pocket about a foot long, the top part looked silver and the bottom half was… a sheath? "Guesth whath thith ith?"

"I don't know." I shrug. "Your spine?"

"Shuth up you dickthles fath!" he yells.

I snort. "Yeah, five football players over 5'6 against one guy who barely almost makes five feet, and I'm the one whose dickless." I launch myself up from the log and land on my feet. That's when two of the jocks come running up to me with a war cry, both arms stretched outward like giant pincers.

I wait in the spot I was in, my body relaxed and ready, then right as the faster of the two gets to me, I quickly step forward, force my right hand into a rigid spear, and then bury it into the jocks throat. He makes a choking gurgling noise as he continues on running into my hand. I step to the right of him, then raise my left leg, and bring it back and kick the back of his knee and he goes down. I bring up my left arm and then elbow him in the back of his neck. He goes falling face first into rocks and I step away from him and start bouncing from the balls of my feet, shifting my weight to each foot.

The other jock reaches me with another enraged cry and throws a loose punch at me, I step forward into his arm and bring up my left arm underneath his and raise it up, then I bring up my right hand and jump up slightly and slam the heel of my palm underneath his nose. It crunches and gives and he goes stumbling forward slightly. I bring up my left leg and then down on his back, he goes down and lands on his hands and knees. I step towards him and bring up my arm ready to strike him, but instead something strikes me. To be more exact, two something's, big ass football players that are in a running tackle.

I go flying in their grasp and few feet, but then everything blacks out slightly as my head hits a big rock. I groan and then feel myself get dragged by my arms. Next thing I know, I'm looking back up at the sky and my face feels wet.

"Is he awake?" one of the jocks ask. I feel something connect with my jaw and my vision burst into stars, then it clears. I gasp and taste something coppery and sticky in my mouth. "Now he is." Another one says. I look down and see Billy standing over me, to the sides I see two jocks that had tackled me holding me down, Jacob to my right. I'm surprised my glasses stayed intact and on my face.

Billy leans down closer to me and pulls up the silver and black thing, the silver part was clearer now, and my eyes widened when I saw it. It was intricate handle, shaped like brass knuckles, and at the top was a silver cracked skull with a wide and gaping mouth. Oh god. "You seeth ith now?" I don't speak, instead I spit blood in his face. he screams and reels back, then he kicks me in the knee. I grunt in pain and glare at him. "FAGGGGGGG!" he screams.

"Hope he better not give you AIDS." Jacob quips. Billy glares at him, then unlatches the sheath and pulls on the handle, then I see the rest of the silver blade. my eyes opened wide in shock and Billy sneered. The blade was 9 inches long, pitted and rough, made to look like it was created by hand. It had a grooved slit below the top of the blade that stopped and curved back three inches before it reached the end.

Billy pinched the skull at the end of the handle and pulled back on it slightly, a segment of the metal pulled backwards and revealed that the slit was actually the space in between the actual knife and a smaller one that slid on top. The real blade was hooked at the end. "Scared yet?" a jock asks?

"Go fuck yourselves." I tell them all venomously.

Billy steps forward and then he grips my shirt and pulls it up roughly. "Keep talkthing fag." He says, then he grips the top of my pants.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" I shriek at him, my voice cracking in fear. No… NO, not again.

Billy puts the tip of the blade on the button of my jeans and sneers at me. "You ain't no man fag." He says in surprisingly clear english. His face looks warped, sick and twisted. "So you don't need this." He then unzips my jeans. I start to thrash about and then he punches me in the face.

My vision goes blurry but I try to twist in the jocks grasp, I lash out with my foot but Billy steps on my ankle. "STOP IT!" I cry out loud, then try to twist my arm out. "STOP IT, STOP IIIITTTT!" I yell again. Billy sneers and then I feel him unbutton my jeans and place the blade on my stomach.

"Come on man." Jacob says his voice wavering. "You're just supposed to scare him, you know, for shooting at us."

"SHUTH UP!" Billy yells, he steps off my ankle and I take the chance to knee him in the groin, my knee comes in contact with something hard and solid as Billy grunts. SHIT! a CUP, REALLY? He then kicks me in my thigh twice. "LITTLTH BICH!" he yells.

I try to breath, then feel a pool of hot sticky metallic blood in my mouth. Then an idea hits me, I turn my head to Jacob and spit the blood at his face. it hits his eyes in a wide spray and he screams and lets go, I then bring my right over my and punch the other jock in the nose, he lets go and gasp for breath. I push up against the log, and the next thing I know something hits me in the stomach. I don't feel anything at first, but my hand goes to my stomach automatically, I feel something cold and hard brush against my fingers. The breath rushes out of my lungs and I look down in shock. Sticking out of my stomach was Billy's silver knife, the skull grinning up at me.

"WHAT DID YOU DO BILLY?!" Jacob screams. I look up as blood starts to flow out of my stomach and onto the blade, Billy steps back slightly, a absent look on his face. That look, that look set off something, I don't know what, but some sort of rage. Before I knew it, I had grabbed ahold of the skull and pulled it out, searing pain rushes trough me, then a truck load. I gasp and feel blood rush out my throat and a trickle down my mouth. Then, I stab the blade into Billy's thigh. He screams right away as I pull it away, a small torrent of blood began to flow. I put my hand on the log and slowly and shakily, I breathe through the pain and get up.

"Fuck…fuc." I gasp as I hobble over to the roots. "Fucking." I say slowly as I reach the end of the log and lean against it.

"Shit man!" a jock exclaims.

Billy screams again and that sends me over the edge. I lay against the tree trunk and within a moment I'm reaching into my bag and grasping Fos by it's oak handle and pulling it out. I don't know how I got to my feet, or how my bag was clutched by it's strap in my other hand with the skull knife. I see Billy getting pulled to his feet by Jacob and the other jock and the two I hit earlier are getting to their feet. I raise up Fos and sight it on Billy's chest. "FUCKING BASTARDS!" I yelled with all my might, then I pulled the trigger twice. Billy's chest blossom's at his shoulder and by his stomach in a flower of blood. Jacob drops him and looks at the body, the other jocks run off. I fire off three more rounds after them, then turn to Jacob.

He looks at me, then faints. I shakily lower Fos and look at him, then sigh painfully. "Pussy." I say, then drape my bag over my shoulder carefully, wincing in pain. Something kept it away, like a dull ache. Was it adrenaline? Or the lack of blood. I looked down at my stomach and saw my shirt covered in blood, the handle of the blade now smeared. Wincing again, I put the skull knife in my pocket and put my hand around the blade and applied pressure. I cough once and leaned over, then stumbled. blood dribbled off my chin and onto my shirt. I started walking, shuffling, stumbling, I don't know why, I just did.

I didn't go down the trail, that much I was sure of. I don't know how long I walked, I barely saw anything but a slow mist creep up on my eyes. By the time the mist cleared, I was stumbling into a flat clearing with a large tree in the middle. Something… pulled me to the tree. I stumbled closer and closer, and the pain slowly drifted away, the sickly unease I felt earlier was now gone. I felt euphoric, light as a feather. My heart didn't race, the knife moved and cut me further, I felt nothing. just joy.

Soon, I was upon the tree, standing there, looking at it's large glory. Then it hit me. I was going to die. Then, I felt tired, so damn tired. But for some reason, all I could do was laugh. Then I started coughing, blood, lots of it. I looked at the ground and saw black sticky clumps mixed in with the red liquid. Sighing, I looked up at the tree, and the first thing I saw was something sticking out of it near the base. It wasn't a branch. I stumbled closer and nearly tripped, my shoulder caught me against the tree. I stopped and tried to breath, but coughed. I looked up and took a shallow breath to clear the mist, and then I saw it. the thing.

It was black at both ends, with a tan round handle in the middle. The end black piece was a giant circle, the other end looked like a crescent moon with a knife poking through the middle of it. The knife, it emitted something, something warm. It called me, it told me to touch it. to grab it. I slowly raised a shakey left hand up, and when my fingers touched it, my body felt better, warmer, less tired. I gripped the handle tightly, and I felt stronger, so strong. Then the tree burst into flames. I let out a yelp and fell backward, pulling the thing with me.

I landed on my back less than a foot away from the tree, I watched as the flames quickly covered the tree, turning black, white and silver. The leaves crackled and fell, turning to ash way before they reached the ground. I stared at it in wonder, then… then the flames came towards me and began to change. They became less and less flickering, and seemed to turn into a flowing mass, becoming sleek and agile as it formed, then, before I knew it, standing before me was a snow leopard with piercing blue eyes.

I blinked at it, then I started laughing like a mad man. Then I began to cough more and more, finally, I started to hack and gag on the blood. I finally stopped and looked at the leopard with heavy lidded eyes and smiled. "Sorry kitty cat." I tell him ruefully as I raise up Fos. "But I'm not gonna become your chew toy." The leopard growled and jumped as I pulled the trigger three times, each one hit it in the head. A bolt of lightning struck the burning tree, a loud rumble sounded as the rain began to come down. Then the leopard is on me, and my world goes black.

-Third person P.O.V-

"So how long till we get there?" Asuma asked as he took in a long drag of his cigarette. He breathed out in a large cloud of smoke, it wafted up and trailed behind him as he and Kurenai continued along the dirt road.

"Ten minutes subtracted from the last time you asked." Kurenai responded with a sigh and looked up at the sky. "Think it's gonna rain again?"

Asuma took another drag of the cigarette. "Don't know, but honestly, that last shower was a little weird if you ask me."

"Yeah, seemed like a warning of some kind." She said. "Think it has anything to do with this mission?"

Asuma shrugged and then threw the cigarette down in front of him and stepped on it, making sure to twist his foot for good measure of putting it out. "Maybe, but I think its just paranoia settling in with old age." He joked.

She snorted and punched him in the arm. "I'm serious, what kind of C ranked mission requires two Jonin anyway?"

Asuma sighed and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his vest pocket and knocked a fresh one out. "Maybe it's just for us to kill time before the new genin come in?" he said as he took out a lighter and light the end of the cigarette. "Besides, it's just a bodyguard job, nothing much to worry about unless you think on it too much."

"But still, little bit of an overkill." She tells him, then suddenly sniffs the air.

"You smell it to, don't you?" he asks as they both continue on the road. The smell of burning wood, thick and almost as nauseating as Asuma's cigarettes hung in the damp air. As did a metallic scent, something all too familiar to the Jonin, the smell of blood.

"It's coming from up ahead." Kurenai says, then draws a kunai. "What do you think happened?"

Asuma shrugs and takes a small drag from his cigarette. "Never know that until we go and look." He says boredly, then in a flash, they are both running towards the source of the smell.

Within minutes of running, they soon came upon a clearing, they stopped and stared at the center, where a large billowing cloud of smoke trailed from it and into the sky, there was no fire, but all that remained was almost a charred stump.

"What the hell happened here?" Asuma asked as he took a step closer, but stopped when Kurenai swiftly raised up an arm to block him.

"Look." She says, not pointing, but motioning with her head. Asuma traced her look to the target and saw what she had, a metallic object glimmering as it stuck out skywards from something on the ground. They both as one carefully stepped closer and closer to the object and the unfamiliar shape, both noticing that the smell of blood was getting stronger and stronger as they both got within range. "What?" Kurenai exclaimed suddenly as soon as the form became clear to her.

Asuma quickly drew his trench knives and began to look around, scanning the area. The form on the ground was that of a boy laying upon his back, arms and legs spread eagled on the grassy plane, if it wasn't for the blood trails from his mouth and the handle of a silver trench knife sticking from out of his gut, someone would have thought he was sleeping. "Kurenai, chec-" he didn't have to say anything really, for his companion was already at the side of the fallen child, looking down upon him with a look of concern and disgust. Asuma was on the other side of the boy looking down at him as he continued to keep an eye out for anyone that could have been held responsible. When he looked down, he saw that the boy clutched the strap of a bag in his left hand, and in his right was an unfamiliar object, it was metal, a long tube attached to a fatter one that had ziz-zags etched into it.

"Who did this?" Kurenai asked in disgust and pity as she put two fingers upon the boy's neck. Then gasped in shock, she looked up at Asuma in shock. "He's alive!"

Bun ba dun dun! And that's the end of this chapter. Obviously, I don't know what I'm doing, just trying something new. All well, tell me how it is and I'll be grateful. TTYL.