Sora is such a hilarious character. He tends to be cocky, pick a fight with just about everything(ask Akamaru), and really he's just such a hoot. This story is just a general category and kind of meant to be cute for now. I guess he's a little kid in this story. I don't know exactly how old he was when the kyuubi chakra mangled up his hand.
The Temple of the Baldies
It was very quiet in the Fire Temple the night Chiriku first met Sora. A harsh breeze rattled the ominous silence of the corridors. Little dust clouds swept its way over the huge courtyard where Monks-in-training well, went to train. One small boy stood poised by the gray stone well. Chin length hair falling down his neck as he reached up with a hop, skip, and a jump. He tried to grab the rope but it was out of his reach. He concentrated again and made a jump only this time the end of the rope went down to his level.
"Careful Little One, you don't want to fall down the well," spoke Monk Chiriku, his hand held firmly to the rope, Sora thought he always looked crotchety with his eyebrow permanently knit in place. Afterwhile, Sora shrugged and decided that was just his happy face. Sora still went jumping for the rope. He was bound and determined to do it himself.
"Little One," Chiriku toned.
"Ah hush it ya Grumpy Baldie. I can dah it myself!" Sora shouted at the top of his tiny lungs, chest puffed out, small hands on hips and his pitch of voice no higher than a songbird, "My names Sora and don't you fahget it."
Chiriku balked at the sudden tenacity of one haughty little boy.
"Now listen here Little One," Chiriku started.
"My name is Sora!" Sora huffed, crossing his arms with a cute little pout.
"Okay Sora," Chiriku explained, with a small smile, "Do you know who I am?"
"Uh . . . Uh . . . Uh," Sora was at a loss for words as he looked the giant grumpy bald man over. This was his first time ever stepping foot inside a temple. All the bald guys looked the same. Well, one they were all bald and to Sora, baldness was for old people. Two, they all wore the same pajamas of white and deep dark blue. Sora didn't know they were actually official monk robes. He just called them pajamas because he thought the old men wore them just so they didn't have to dress for bedtime. His slate almond eyes roamed Chiriku's body up and down till he spotted that familiar sash around his middle.
"Hey You're one uvva . . . Five, six, twelve! TWELVE GUARDIAN SHINOBI!" Sora yelled in excitement. Chiriku's head jolted at the sudden volume in Sora's tiny voice as he suddenly rambled about his father being part of the Twelve Guardian Ninja and how we wanted to be Twelve Guardian Ninja and about this and about that . . . Going on and on and on in that cute little babble that just comes naturally to all children his age. Poor Chiriku's ears were ringing. He nodded, pretending to understand but thanks to Sora's suddenly loud voice, he couldn't hear a thing besides the temple bells clanging between his ear drums.
"And . . . And-and you even met the Daimyo right? The funny looking guy waving the fan? My tou-chan met him once and the Daimyo owns a cat! It's funny too. It yowls like an oni when you hug it." Sora continued to chatter, ignoring the fact Chiriku still had a pounding headache. Chiriku, had to think of something and fast.
"How about we play?" Chiriku asked in uncharacteristic jest.
"Play?" Sora asked, the new word flowing off his toungue.
"Yes, you, me, and quiet time to play," Chiriku mused, his brain focusing on the word quiet when what he should've really focused on was the little boy Sora who trembled in such excitement at the word . . .
"YATTA!" Sora cheered, "LET'S PLAY! LET'S PLAY! LET'S PLAY!"
With that he whisked Chiriku away. The big Monk's huge body was hunched over in a funny half jog. Sora dragged him by the finger over to the training field, going wild. He played Throw the Kunai. He played Walk the Tree. He played tag. He played Sparring and he went nuts running all over the compound. Quite a few monks looked in disdain at their local hero who quite forgot he wasn't supposed to be running down the halls. All he knew was keeping up with that little ball of energy; that haughty little boy named Sora.
The current Head Monk at the time, a wisened old man gray of beard leaning over his cane, used that cane to bang a loose wood panel. The panel turned out to be a button that brought up a trap floorboard. Sora was too short to get caught. He zoomed away while Chiriku got a wood plank full in the face. Chiriku fell with an ominous crash.
"Watch Way ya going Baldie!" Sora shouted, "Ya kissed dah f-oor."
Chiriku got up into a kneeling position rubbing his poor nose. It didn't help matters when Sora went to poke it. The constant jabs making his already aching head pound. Sora didn't really know what to do with the big baldy. Yet the concern in his eyes was genuine.
"Are ya okay Baldy?" Sora asked, poking Chiriku's sore nose a third final time. Oh wait, he had to poke it ten more hard times just to be sure.
"I see you've met Kazuma's little boy," the Elder Head Monk chuckled, "He will be training with us in the temple since Sora's father for some reason does not trust the Hidden Leaf Village."
"Yes sensei," Chiriku answered, as he stood up winded, and tried his best to make a proper bow.
"Yes Bearded Baldy," Sora happily chirped trying to mimic Chiriku's antics yet failed on account of a mad case of the giggles.
Chiriku only looked Sora's way out of the corner of his eye. Yes his other eye was developing a nervous twitch at the word . . . Baldy but his chest couldn't help but swell with pride. He'd never met many kids Sora's age with that much stamina and chakra. Something about him never seemed quite right, but he'd find out later. Right now Chiriku was secretly glad. Sora was a much needed bright spot in his life during this tumultuous time.