Okay, so here's my first attempt at a fanfiction...I hope i do a good job. I do not own the Naruto-verse nor do i pwn any of the characters therein. I'm doing a build up of the lives of the two new characters, Hyuuga Hanzo and Uchiha Sayuri, from a brief glimpse of the nine-tails attack to after the 4th war. There will be a bit of time skipping during the early stages to get them through their training years. Probably might hit more than 30 chapters. Will contain BDSM elements to the story later on and if that bothers you then i urge you to reconsider reading this story. If it doesn't then enjoy the ride :) Uh... I guess that's about it. No smut in the earlier chapters though so bear with me haha. Hope you all like it. Reviews welcome.

Chapter One

The girl-child wailed loudly in the smoke filled room. Nothing more than a toddler, two years at the most. There was fire everywhere and beams were falling, the crackle of flame loud in the shinobi's ears. He noted the red and white fan symbol that was put on the door was slowly being burned away and the shinobi smiled, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. He crossed quickly to the child who was standing there, eyes wide in fear and tears running down her face. It almost made his heart twist at the sight. Almost. In a swift move he snatched the girl out of the way of a falling beam and rushed out of the broken ceiling into the cool night air. A ways off, he could see the nine-tails wreaking havoc on the village he had once called home. Jonin, Chunin… it wouldn't matter who they threw at it. Konoha would be destroyed…. As he sped away back to his hideaway he looked at the child he had cradled in his arms.

"Uchiha…Sayuri….."

An odd sounding name in his opinion. The child had dark hair and typical Uchiha features...and yet she seemed delicate like the lily her name depicted her as. A softness in her eyes that took away from the typical harsh face of the Uchiha clan. He smirked at the, now silent, child as he leaped from tree to tree. She would manifest the Sharingan…and then he would be that much closer to his goal.

Three Years Later

"Fire style: Fireball Jutsu!"

Her hand seals had been a blur of perfection, and she felt the rush of chakra within her. All that was left was the fire itself. With a powerful breath she blew with all her might… and groaned as all she sprouted was a few embers.

"Orochimaru-sama! Why can't I do it!"

Seated in a chair a few feet behind her, the man in question chuckled.

"In time you will obtain power, but until then practice makes perfect. Continue."

Sayuri frowned and turned to glare at him.

"Easy for you to say. Jerk."

Orochimaru frowned at her.

"Remember whom you speak to child. If not for me, you would have burned" he spat.

Uchiha Sayuri glowered at him. The bastard, he always lorded that over her head. Claimed she owed him. Never failed to bring it up when she was demanding answers about her family, if she even had one. Kami, she hated him sometimes. Growling under her breath she brought up her hands and flew through the required hand seals.

"Fire style: Fireball Jutsu!"

Leaning back, she inhaled and spat out a ball of fire two feet in diameter, the heat so intense it caused her to break the technique and stumble back onto her ass. Panting heavily, but with a smile on her face, she stood and turned to look at Orochimaru who was smiling.

Five. The girl was five and well on her way to mastering her clan secrets. He'd kept her with him ever since she were two and in three short years she'd surpassed his low expectations for her: She learned to talk earlier than expected and had the right attitude he needed for his subjects: Thirsty for power. Her power was a deep one, and it promised great things for his experiments. And when she manifested the Sharingan? HE would be in possession of everything he needed. Orochimaru smiled at her and nodded his head

"Well done, child. Well done."

"OUT! GET OUT!"

The six year old needed no more encouragement. He left the training ground of the compound, covered in coin sized bruises from the sparring session he just had. He limped as fast as he could, all feeling in his left leg, part of his chest and left shoulder gone. Tears threatened to spill over in his eyes but he held them in check. He would not cry. Not now. Not ever again for the sake of these people. When he got to his room he shut the door silently and all but collapsed on the floor, rolling onto his back.

"Why…..why me."

He asked the question to nobody in particular. Hyuuga Hanzo, clan reject, didn't know the answer. Born into the Hyuuga Branch Family, he'd been sealed only two years ago at the tender age of four. From then on, as he was trained in the clan martial art of Gentle Fist, he'd been a screw up. He simply couldn't do it well enough to be considered good at it…or even remotely passable. He was slow, clumsy and his Byakugan was nowhere close to par. It had been a thought that the act of sealing him had done him some kind of mental harm but that wasn't it. He simply just couldn't get the technique. Nevermind hitting any tenketsu. Hanzo sniffled and began the crawl to his pallet, painfully making his way there. Thankfully, his chakra was beginning to flow normally again so he regained a bit of feeling in his leg and chest. When he was mostly recovered, he would leave the compound and live alone. It would be better than his life here at least. He closed his eyes and drifted into a light sleep.

"Hanzo is a failure. We cannot allow such a blemish to exist in the history of the Hyuuga clan!"

The voice had been a whisper but it was more than enough to wake Hanzo. He must have fallen asleep for an exceptionally long time because it was pitch black outside. Sitting bolt upright in bed he couldn't help the shiver that worked its way up his spine. He didn't recognize the voice of the person but figured it had to be an Elder. Most likely the one who had witnessed his training session today.

"Hn…you're right…I wish there was another way but Hanzo cannot be allowed to remain alive"

Hanzo froze in utter shock. That voice he did know. Nothing in the world could have stopped the tears flowing down Hanzo's cheeks as he replayed the words of his own father in his mind. Still crying, he shifted silently off of the pallet and began gathering his things onto his sheets, everything he knew he could carry: Some kunai, a few sets of clothing. A water bottle and his medicine pack. A few stolen onigiri from the pantry. He would fill the water bottle in a stream nearby and then leave the village as fast as he could. He stopped when he heard his father speak again.

"We must take him now. It will be easier for us all to be rid of him this night and deal with any repercussions in the morning."

The Elder let out a "Hn" of agreement.

Hanzo dumped everything into his backpack and ran out of his room, not even bother to close the shoji door behind him. He ran as fast as he could through the halls, then bursting out onto the training ground and onto the rooftops. He didn't look back until he was far enough that the compound was a distant image, lights popping on all over it as they no doubt had discovered that he'd escaped. Turning way, he sprinted for the main gate of Konoha Village and stood on the dirt path that led to the world outside. A tear spattered onto the ground. It was soon followed by more. He'd made friends in this village. At the academy. Now, thanks to his subpar skills and his dismal Byakugan, he was slated for execution. Sadness gave way to righteous anger, which was then routed into cold determination. Lifting his voice, he hoped it carried all the way to his father back at the compound.

"I WILL RETURN! AND I WILL SHOW YOU ALL!"

Six Years Later

Sayuri had to keep backing up, making sure she kept the blade that Kabuto-sama was trying to slash her with at bay while she concentrated on his movements with her two-tomoe Sharingan. Even with the kekkei genkai active, she could barely keep up with his attacks and suffered shallow cuts to her arms and legs. Kami damn it all but the fucker was fast. Dodging yet again, she tried to punch him in the face as he got close but not only did he dodge but she took a knee to the stomach for her efforts. Falling to the ground, she laid there and tried to remember how to breathe.

"You're not trying hard enough Sayuri-chan," Kabuto told her, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, "You rely too heavily on your Sharingan to save you but you haven't fully gotten used to the power yet. Your taijutsu is decent enough but you lack strength. Your shuriken-jutsu is excelling rapidly and your ninja techniques are progressing well. But everything you do can use more improvement. Was Orochimaru wrong to save you from the fire?"

Oh no he fucking didn't. Sayuri pushed herself to her feet and glared at him with all her might.

"Go to Hell!" She spat.

Kabuto frowned as her hands flew through a set of seals that she had been working on, unbeknownst to anyone.

"Fire style: Pheonix Fire Jutsu!"

The flames she spat were so hot they burned white and raced towards her target who stood there in shock. As the flames hit Kabuto she smirked. Of course she knew that even with this, the man would have most likely performed a substitution. Sure enough, she whirled around just in time to block his kunai with her own.

"Interesting move Sayuri. Looks like you've gotten into the scrolls in the library haven't you."

Sayuri grinned like a fiend before spinning herself along his outstretched arm and landing a palm strike on his sternum. Kabuto stumbled back, wincing as he rubbed the spot with his free hand. Nodding he tucked away his kunai and smirked at her.

"What else did you find in the library?"

"Eight Trigrams, Sixty-four Palms!"

Hanzo fell into the stance of the classic Hyuuga technique and charged. His target? A log in the ground that he'd drawn tenketsu points on in his own blood. His clothes were ragged but were relatively clean, as was he. His hair was long and disheveled and he had a fresh dirt smudge on his face from this mornings training. His pants were ripped a little as was his top. He was drenched in sweat. His belly howled in hunger. But he wasn't going to stop until midday.

"Two strikes!"

He jammed his fingertips into two tenketsu on the log, right about where the left side of the chest would be on a human.

"Four strikes! Eight strikes!"

His next hits met the target in rapid succession and he spun around the log to attack from the back.

"Sixteen Strikes! Thirty-two Strikes!"

Iron-solid fingers and steel strong palms slammed into the wood over and over. Almost there. Time to wrap it up. Hanzo dug deep and began to whirl around the target his hands a blur.

"Sixty-four Strikes!"

He'd been working up to a three-hundred and sixty degree distribution of the final sixty four strikes for a while now and he'd been perfecting it ever since he'd gotten the hang of the original technique a month ago. But when he finished his last strike he vaulted over the log and spun on his heel. No, he wasn't done yet.

"Vacuum Palm!"

Hanzo flew backwards from the blast of chakra leaving his palm, skidding ten feet away. Shaking from exertion and pain, he knelt to look at the log and saw the deep dent in the wood from his attack. His previous training post had been too dented to use, the lack of power in his attack leaving puckered holes in the bark. This dent was much deeper and the wood had splintered.

"Getting …..better." Hanzo got out between pants. He laid there as he recovered, his arms and legs sore from movement. He'd taken to taping his arms and legs so that the damage his body suffered would be less. Groaning, he pushed himself to a sitting position, then stood and made his way over to a nearby stream. Stripping quickly, he hopped into the water and set about scrubbing himself clean and washing out his clothes. As they dried, he swam around the water for a bit, enjoying its frigid temperature on his post workout body. Twenty minutes later, he dressed in his equally ragged, but clean set of spare clothing. Stomach now protesting in earnest, he made his way into the town nearby to see if he could beg a kind soul for a meal.

Sayuri crossed blades with Kabuto, the medical ninja now hard pressed to land a hit on the 11 year old when, before now, she'd been easy prey. The little ninja had a wicked smile on her face and Kabuto scowled. She'd clearly been holding back before and his comment had riled her up to the point where she held nothing back. Dodging one of his attacks, she slashed at him with her kunai and he back up fast, allowing her the breathing room she needed to form hand seals….or, as was the case now, fling a multitude of hira shuriken at him. Kabuto swore and weaved through the flying metal and rushed towards the girl, intending to knock her stone cold unconscious with one blow. He never got that far. Sayuri smirked and yanked hard on the wire she had attached to each and every one of those shuriken. Too late he realized her plan and, unbelieveably, was wrapped head to foot in cables. He hit the floor in a cloud of dust and Sayuri brushed her hair out of her face, looking smug.

"Looks like I win, eh Kabuto-sama?"

Kabuto was about to respond when he heard someone slow-clapping near the doorway. Orochimaru's cold voice drifted over to them and Kabuto felt a familiar chill down his spine.

"Well done Sayuri-chan. Kabuto-san here underestimated you. You have been progressing well."

Sayuri bowed low at the praise.

"Thank you, Orochimaru-sama."

The snake man walked over, released Kabuto from his binds and then beckoned to the Uchiha girl.

"Come. You will rest and we shall talk."

Sayuri, emboldened by his praise, looked him in the eye, her Sharingan still active.

"Please, Orochimaru-sama…I wish to know of my family. If I had one…I'd like to know who I am."

Kabuto winced as Orochimaru frowned and then began to walk over to the child. Sayuri had fallen to her knees in another bow, proving that she was not foolish, and stared at the floor.

"Forgive me Orochimaru-sama. I just.. I need to know if I was all alone from the beginning."

This had stopped the man in his tracked. And then, Orochimaru began to laugh wickedly.

"Come child. I will answer all of your questions. And you will know all you need to know by the days end."

Hanzo quietly ate the bowl of ramen he'd been given by the restaurant owner, free of charge. He sat in the corner of the shop, out of anyone's way yet close enough to the door so he could escape if need be. As he ate with the proper decorum of a member of the Hyuuga household, he watched the people go by, envying their lives. They all had it easier than him for the most part. Most didn't have to beg for a meal like he did. A roof over their heads to keep out the elements. Clothing that wasn't ripped in more than several places. And a family that loved them. Not to say that there weren't people who were worse off than him. He'd seen the cruelty of the world in different forms and knew that he was blessed to be able to defend himself up to a point. Most people in this town weren't shinobi so they couldn't defend themselves from thugs and bandits.

As he was contemplating these things, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He didn't decide to activate his Byakugan though. He was still a bit unused to the new strength he'd gained with it through his training. Instead, he turned his head to see a man, probably mid-thirties, sit at the table beside his own and order a bowl of ramen. The man politely nodded to Hanzo, who just blinked back, unused to such politeness from a stranger. Hastily recovering, Hanzo nodded back and then returned to his bowl of noodles.

'Today is looking up.' He thought. A good training session, and now actual politeness from a stranger? He must have bathed very well today because people usually turned their noses upwards in disgust at him. Slurping happily, Hanzo didn't pay too much attention to the four men who entered the shop at that moment. He did notice that they looked a little ragged, like he did, although they clearly ate better. They also carried weapons on them as well, but they looked old and worn, the handles smudged from sweat and ragged with use. As Hanzo paid more and more attention to them his eating slowed, then ground to a halt. The four patrons were simply standing there. Not only were they standing there, they were staring directly at him. And if that wasn't bad enough, the one in the middle had a picture of him in his right hand, the breeze making the paper sway.

'Shit…..'

Hanzo slowly started eating again, not daring to activate his kekkei genkai just yet. It would only provoke a possible attack.

"Hyuuga Hanzo?" the man in charge, Hanzo presumed, spoke with a reedy voice.

Hanzo said nothing and finished off his noodles, slurping down the miso broth as slowly as he dared.

"Your father has hired us to bring you home, boy. Come along now son." The man said with a smile.

Hanzo didn't move an inch. His father hadn't said anything like that and he knew it. The man had planned his death nine years ago and would have followed through with it if he hadn't escaped from the compound when he did. Lowering the bowl slowly, Hanzo was going to speak but the man who had come in before the new people spat at the ringleader.

"You're fooling nobody with that whole 'nice-guy' bull shit, my friend. It's plain as day the four of you intend to kill him for a bounty. What's more is that this boy could take down the four of you in less time than it would take for me to finish a second bowl of ramen. And if the boy can handle you then i most certainly can. Leave the child alone. He's harmed no-one and is simply trying to survive."

The man shifted and everyone could see the handle of a sword poking out from above his right shoulder. Hanzo wasn't focused on that though. He was trying to fight back tears. No one had ever stood up for him. Certainly not his family, and he'd left the village before he could make any real friends. And now this old man that he didn't even know was prepared to fight over his safety.

"Don't make us laugh, you don't know who you're messing with old man!"

As one, the four men drew their weapons and Hanzo frowned. The lead man carried a wicked looking katana that, despite years of obvious use, was bone-cleavingly sharp. The two men on either side of him both carried kama, the sickle-blades stained with blood in some places from a previous kill. The final one in the back was the real cause for concern. The man was huge and was holding an axe the Hanzo was sure could cleave a grown man in half with little effort. Heaving a sigh, the man stood up and winked at Hanzo.

"Well, son, looks like we've offended them. Shall we escort them to the hospital together?"

Son…he called him son and didn't even know him. Hanzo let only one tear of gratitude fall before he took his place beside his new friend. Nodding, he fell into the Gentle Fist fighting stance and activated his Byakugan.

Sayuri looked up from where she lay on her pallet in her room. The window showed that it was already sun down. And just like the sun gave way to the night, so too did her constant need to know who she was give way to a crushing depression. An Uchiha. She was an Uchiha, which kind of explained the fact that she possessed Sharingan now didn't it, but not only that, she was the last Uchiha…No family to speak of anymore. They'd all been killed by…oh Kami, she couldn't even go there. Rolling off her resting place, she paced around her room, fighting back tears.

"Who does that…who does that to their own family!" She muttered harshly under her breath.

And that bastard Orochimaru had been smiling as he told the story. Like it was a great joke. But of course he would find something like this amusing. The bastard had no heart and was as power hungry as the monster who'd eliminated her family. He probably looked to tales like this for inspiration. Unable to stand being confined in her room a moment longer, she leaped through her window and raced through the forest, not even paying attention to where she might end up. Kami knew how long she had been travelling for but she stopped when she didn't recognize any of her surroundings. She was just outside the gate of a river-town and, even at this late hour, it was alive with activity. Entering the place, she lost herself in the nearly visible camaraderie of the townspeople. Everyone just seemed to be happy here. As she walked through the streets she stared in wonder at everything around her. Kabuto-sama had taken her on outings before when she was smaller but she'd never taken the time to just, enjoy the sights. It was always a trip to get something for Orochimaru, or food for them all to eat that night.

She was passing what must have been the restaurant district of the town when she saw a commotion over by one of the stores. Making her way over, she arrived just in time to see four men lead the way out of a local ramen shop, followed by a man who looked to be about thirty-three at least, and a boy who couldn't be any more than a year older than she was. The four men had all drawn weapons and their intent to kill was a feeling so strong that it almost made her freeze on the spot. Looking back towards the boy and middle-aged man, she noticed that there was a sword strapped to the back of the man and his right hand was resting on the hilt over his shoulder, his face calm and impassive. The boy had no weapon but around his eyes she could see veins as clear as day.

'Dojutsu..' she thought to herself.

Without a doubt, she knew that the four men wielding those vicious looking weapons were going to have a hell of a time. Glancing around, she noticed someone in the growing crowd that she really didn't want to see. Frowning, she did her best to blend in with the bystanders, hoping to at least catch part of the fight. Glancing back at the boy, she saw that he'd been looking at her….well it felt more like staring with the way his eyes looked. Timidly, she offered a small smile. The boy nodded and gave her a grin in return before facing his opponents. The old man shook his head.

"Son, now is not the time to impress the ladies. We've got a hospital appointment to get to. We'd best be on time, yes?"

The boy nodded and took up a fighting stance that was utterly unfamiliar to her. Blushing, but head tilted to one side, she couldn't resist activating her Sharingan to get a better look.

'Who is he….'

Hanzo couldn't lose now. There were pretty girls everywhere and, even though he knew that it was completely foolish to base his performance in this fight on whether or not he'd be noticed by the girls, a loud screaming voice in his head was telling him to be as show-offy as possible. Sillping into Gentle Fist, he looked at the four men he was about to break into pieces.

"Sir, perhaps we should take the men with the kama first? Or would you rather I take two and you take two?"

The man bellowed a great laugh and grasped the hilt of his blade.

"A fine plan son. The two kama-wielders first then, eh? Alright, I'll follow your lead."

Hanzo was taken aback for a moment. Follow his lead? He'd never even been in a real…

'Oh my kami, I am going to die.'