Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Naruto characters or series, that all belongs to M. Kishimoto. All things related to Memoirs of a Geisha, also belongs to Arthur Golden. This is not for financial gain, but for my personal enjoyment.

A/N: So I'm back from what feels like forever, and I come with a new story. I say 'new' but really I've had the draft of this story gathering dust in my computer documents for a couple of years now. I blame Sasuke and Naruto for making me share this with you, seriously they are such boyfriends in the new manga chapters, I really had no other outlet for my shipping needs. The story is based upon the book 'Memoirs of a Geisha' (my favourite book, if I might add), and though I haven't deviated from the plot too much, I hope that the characterisation and writing style allows this fanfiction to be as unique and intresting as I envisioned, but I guess that's up to you to decided.

Before you do; biggest shout out to my beta-writer 'FlamesOfASaphire', who has to deal with my excruciatingly long emails and ideas.

That's everything, If you have any comments at the end of the chapter, be sure to leave a review so that I know it's something worth continuing. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1: THE BEGINNING

Clouds intertwined in the sky with the radiance of molten silver, darkness dwelling in the horizon. A suspended twilight lay over the small village; harbouring a thick, malevolent atmosphere. The ground timbered with every harsh slap of the sea, a fine mist transcending its coast. The natural elements were in midst of a war with one another, in a battle of dominance and supremacy.

As the belligerent wind rode past the waves and blew viciously at the land, a small, tipsy house lay facing the seaward cliffs. The wooden walls trembled at the storm's ferocity, the threat of tearing away only growing stronger with each brutal lashing. However, the home remained rooted like an old oak tree, to the ground sheltering those within.

The winds howling could be heard from the inside, a young blonde boy, no older than 10, could feel the wooden panels vibrate violently though out the house making the house creak an ominous tune. There was a defined crack in the ceiling which attracted the young boy's gaze, silver, he thought, the sky was definitely silver. The swirling shades of grey and violent hums of wind had only offered a moment's distraction to the blonde boy. Eventually, he looked back down, and recalled the whispering that had awoken him so abruptly in the night. He crept closer to the curtain that concealed his room; he leaned over to hear the muted mumbles on the other side. The young boy shuffled closer still, catching the deep sound of his father's voice.

With a touch of hesitation, the young boy slowly lifted his shaking hand to move the worn curtain which blocked his vision. At first, his eyes were drawn to the fire place crackling in the centre of the room, the heat from the flames immediately clinging to his skin, the fumes filling his lungs. His sight adjusted itself accordingly to the dim surroundings, until he could eventually see a man...a stranger who sat to one side of the fire. Though the sound of boiling water proved difficult to overhear, the young boy strained his ears to listen to the quiet words spoken.

"She doesn't have very long, a couple weeks at most." The old stranger regrettably informed his words somewhat requisite.

"...I thought, she was getting better..." A voice further in the room whispered, a voice so raw, filled with so much pain, a voice that belonged to none other than Minato. "Isn't there anything I can do?" His voice cracked in desperation.

The blond haired boy leaned further past the curtain with the urgent need to see his father who kneeled to the other side of the fire. Minato's head hung downwards, floppy and lifeless, his hair pressed against his face in a cold sweat, flickers of light allowed the young boy to clearly see his father's pained expression.

"No, her illness is set in stone; there is no hope for her, I apologise sincerely for your pain. The only thing you can do now is make an arrangement for your son." The old stranger solemnly advised.

Minato roughly rubbed at his face as if to hurt himself, speaking tiredly like a man who has suffered nothing but sadness, "I never...I never meant for Naruto to grow up alone. I hope one day he will understand."

At the call of his own name, Naruto could listen no more, the heat from the room had reached an unbearable temperature and the room had begun to sway around him. He opened his eyes once more, only to catch sight of his mother, who lay on the ground across the fire, a blanket brought up to her neck. Her red hair rested limp and lifeless against her pale face but what struck him were her eyes. Her violet eyes that still held a former vibrancy to them, however the truth lay in the shiny tears which suggested she was very far from her former self. Kushina opened her mouth, her dry lips cracked parting, trying to form words, but nothing came out, only tears that ran down her hollowed cheeks.

Naruto fell back into his room; he closed the curtain with panic, scurrying as far from it as he physically could considering the restraints of his boxed room. The boy found it difficult to breath with the image of his feeble mother in his mind; he gripped his chest to subside the dull ache and fear in his heart. Naruto remained in that position, motionless, listening to every word across that curtain even though his judgement was telling him not to.

"Thank you for all the help you gave to our family, doctor." Minato whispered, though his words were almost silent, the crying that accompanied them was more audible drowning out his words.

Naruto burrowed back into his blankets on the floor, bringing them over his face. It was only until he felt the moisture under his fingertips that he realised he was also crying. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that what he witnessed was significant, it felt too scary to be anything other than significant, and he knew that one day he would want to remember that odd conversation his father had with the stranger, a conversation that would always be recalled whenever he saw a silvery sky like the one he had this night.

Like the clouds on a storm filed day, Naruto could feel a change riding on the waves; he only hoped that he could hold to his home as the wind threatened to blow him away.

Naruto peered through a small square hole, the window of the main room. He had heard a clamour outside, there house was high on the sea cliffs and it meant that there were never any passersby. Which was why it made it all the more strange when an older man walked into the constricted view given by the window, it was a brown-haired man, he wore a black, woollen cloak and had a forehead protector which framed his face.

Naruto watched the man's impatient movements, he seemed like he came from somewhere outside their fish-catching village, perhaps from one of those big cities his father often talked about. The rattle from a dim lantern behind brought Naruto's gaze away from the stranger outdoors. The young boy turned just as his father came to pull at his wrist. Naruto's reflexes were to resist not wanting to move away from his space at the window. Minato however, persisted as he pulled Naruto and lead him away.

There was little care in the way the young boy's was rushed out the room, his father seemed too occupied as he pulled him along, so roughly Naruto tripped on his feet. Minato picked his son up immediately, but only with the convenience to guide him to the door quicker.

Naruto was almost out the house, but he briefly turned to see his mother. She was sleeping by the fire, her face peaceful and her breathing calm. The moment was cut short however, as Minato pulled him through to the outside.

It was raining heavily, and Naruto could feel the droplets fall on his face and dampen his clothes, his blonde hair ruffling in the wind. He was quickly passed on to this brown haired man, who helped push Naruto onto the back of a wooden carriage. The stranger secured the back of it with a thick, metal chain. Naruto felt a disorientation, seconds felt shorter than seconds, he stumbled from the back of the carriage unable to comprehend how he had gotten there when had been standing at the window only moments before.

"You are Mr. Tenzou, correct?" Minato asked, the pounding rain making it hard to hear.

"Yes." The man replied, placing some coins into his father's hand. "We'll be going now." The man moved away as he said this, wasting no time getting into the front of the carriage.

"What does he mean by going, otousan?" Naruto interjected, finally breaking through the initial shock, his eyes frantically searching his father's face.

"Forgive me." Replied Minato as he bowed his head. "Forgive me, Naruto."

The carriage gave a sudden jolt, accompanied by a horses cry as a whip was cracked. The carriage began to pull away but Naruto held on the sides to steady himself up, he looked into his father's eyes, hurt swimming in the blue. "Otousan!"

He continued to scream for his father, but the carriage kept moving further and further away. The image of his father and the flickering lantern kept getting smaller and smaller until they were only a dark silhouette against the larger image of the wooden house. Naruto refused to stop calling for his dad, but his voice no longer reached him, the sound of the rain completely drowning him out. He felt consumed, his ragged clothing were soaked, his dirtied orange waist wrap had taken a muddier colour. He was thrown about at the back of the carriage, holding onto the wood so tightly splinters dug at his fingers. The sea raged as if to echo Naruto's pain, as his tears fell so did the sky's, he felt completely consumed, he was nothing but wind in the air.

The carriage delved through the woods, until the tipsy house was no longer in sight and the sea coast was no longer heard. Naruto had no voice to cry anymore, he slumped into the corner of the carriage trying avoid the several bumps of the ride. As he closed his eyes, the last image of his crying father stayed with him, perhaps the strangest sight he have ever seen, regardless it was the only thing he thought about.

The brown-haired man, Tenzou, looked away from the path from time to time to check on Naruto. He continued this for hours, noting how had Naruto gradually calmed down but never did stop shaking. Whether it be cold or fear, there was nothing to be done, their destination was set and as they traveled through the night, Tenzou did not stop until they reach said destination.

Tenzou pushed the young boy through the train platform, his hands gripped around him to stop him from escaping. Naruto blinked past the white steam that engulfed the station, only really being able to see as the far as the wooden floor boards beneath him. As the air cleared up Naruto saw a man with a basket uncaringly brush past, he saw the several men shifting wooden boxes into the long metal trains.

"Stand here." Tenzou instructed, distracting the boy from his surroundings. The man bowed in front of a ticket officer, before giving money in exchange for tickets. "Arigatou"

Naruto intently watched the two men whisper, unable to hear their words through the blaring steam train engine. Tenzou eventually pulled away, grabbing hold of Naruto's arm to haul him onto the train.

"No! I don't want to go." Naruto protested, with the little power he had. He knew the moment he stepped on that train, he would really be going, he wouldn't be coming back after this.

Despite his best efforts, Tenzou easily lifted the kicking boy up, and placed him aboard the train. Naruto had no other option other than to settle down and take the seat by the window. He had never been on a train before and he found distraction in the scenery outside despite the fear dwelling in his gut. There were long slopping mountains in his view, a dark, rich green covering every visible area, with each gust of wind the trees would shimmer in unison like the tide in the sea. The day was beginning to dawn, the pale morning light shining between each peak of land, the clear cut silhouette of the birds soaring through the light.

Naruto wasn't born to the life of a geisha but that was where he was lead nonetheless, like so much in his strange life, he was carried by the wind. As he observed the gliding birds, he wondered if they knew their path or just going where the breeze took them too.

Naruto had subconsciously known that this train ride was inevitable. The first time he noticed his mother was sick was when his father stopped going to work, it was then all too soon followed by several strangers visiting their home. Kushina was suffering from cancer, though this was not something Naruto knew at the time, and because of this their family went into deep poverty.

Before Naruto's mother was too feeble to talk, she would always remind him that he was like the wind. According to her, wind could slice anything to bits, even against lightning wind would match up...but most importantly, the only thing that could save a dying flame and give it strength was the power of wind and nothing else. Naruto could only hope that her words would one day come through.

As the train gradually pulled into the final station, Naruto managed to catch the sign of the city, Konoha. As he walked out onto the platform, he coughed as the heated smoke fanned his tanned face. There was a red dim light cast on the station, giving everything a darker shade. The people waiting for the train were from a much higher standing, they weren't dressed in rags or carry baskets of food, instead they all carried sturdy suitcases and stood proper.

Naruto was held by a tight grip, as Tenzou manoeuvred him through the seething mass of people. It was an overwhelming number, to an extent that Naruto had never seen before, they all seemed occupied in their own world not noticing as they pushed past the younger boy. Tenzou carried Naruto into another carriage, which was constructed differently from the one they rode to the station. It only had two wheels, each with an extending pole carried by a single man at front; he wore a pointed straw hat. As he began to run forward, he carried the roofed carriage behind him, in which Tenzou and Naruto sat.

It was now the evening, the train journey had taken most of the day, and as Naruto looked out onto Konoha he felt entranced by the city. The streets were dark, but painted red by the streams of lanterns that flowed on every street. The houses were tightly packed together, made of wood but with tiled roofs. There were women laughing, wearing kimonos, several stalls selling food, restaurant bustling with people as they sipped on bowls of ramen, the sound of hot steam and food being fried, bicycles weaving past. The city was alive. Konoha was alive.

Naruto could only stare in amazement at the life that would one day be his.