Author's Note: Okay, so I have revamped this story. It is now in first person, from the view point of my original character, Tori Yumiko. I hope those who read it enjoy it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kick, punch. Kick, punch. Over and over again. This is what my life has become. A blur of training exercises. Every day I spend hours in this clearing, honing my skills. Working to be what I couldn't be back then. I lost myself in my training, and sometimes it was almost impossible to pull myself away for food and sleep. I stopped for a moment, and leaned over, resting my hands on my knees. My body was coated in a layer of sweat, and I could feel it dripping down my face. My breathing was heavy; I knew I had really overdone it this time. I grinned. I need to stop this I said. I'm killing myself a little every day. I thought about this. Then I collapsed, the world around me fading to black.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I woke up, I was certainly not in the clearing anymore. I had been sleeping in a plush bed that stood low to the ground. Was this a dream? Or was this reality?

You black out in a forest.

You wake up in a place you've never been before.

I crawled out of bed and realized that I wasn't even wearing my own clothes. An old T-shirt and a pair of ripped shorts hung loosely off my thin frame. Where the hell was I?

The door to this dark room I was in was open, and light painted a pattern on the floor near it. My own clothes were nowhere to be found. As I continued to search the room, however, I discovered a lone kunai setting on a table. Firmly grasping the knife in my right hand, I silently stalked out into the other room.

There was someone sitting on a sofa and watching a television on the other side. I crept across the room, unnoticed, and stood behind the sofa. Was this chick a total dumbass or what? Here I am, practically breathing down her neck, and she's still mesmerized by the TV. I decided to make my move.

Grabbing the woman's chin with my left hand, I cornered her with my right by putting the blade of the kunai against her neck. I leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Hi there. Mind telling me where I am and who you are?"

I pressed the knife a little harder against her neck. "Wow, I save your life and this is the thanks I get?" She replied.

"I said tell me where I am."

The knife dug into her skin, but she didn't bleed. "You're in my house. I'm Mitarashi Anko, a special jounin of the leaf village."

"And just why am I in your house?"

I pushed down a little harder, and a tiny trickle of blood crawled away from the knife. "I was out in the woods and I saw you lying there, unconscious. So I brought you back here to make sure you were still alive. Someone really did a number on you."

I laughed.

I think, funny thing is, that someone was me.

I pulled the knife away from her throat and stepped back.

"So you think you're a savior? My own personal Jesus, eh?"

She turned around, a thin line of blood running from the slit in her neck down to her chest. "Well, I'm not that cocky. All I was trying to do was help you out. You seem really grateful."

I stared at that line of blood. God damn. Something was making want to climb on top of her and lap it up like a dog. I shook my head and turned away.

I say, thanks, thanks a bunch.

She senses my sarcasm. The woman gets up from the couch and walks towards me. "You know what, you're a pretty ungrateful little shit." Ouch, she's getting defensive. "You could have died out there, and I made sure you, a complete stranger, were okay. And how do you repay me? You try to slit my throat!"

I've still got the kunai. And I've got more. But she doesn't know that.

"Okay, okay. Thank you, thank you. You saved my life! I'm forever grateful! Is that what you want to hear?"

"It'll work for now."

"Great."

I toss the kunai at her. Lucky for her, she's got good reflexes. When she catches it, a drop of her own blood falls from the tip of the blade. She's still got that damn line on her chest. I sigh.

She goes into the bedroom, and I make myself at home. I spread across her couch and change the channel on the television. I'm actually enjoying myself. When she comes back, the blood is gone. She sees me stretched across her couch and just stares.

"What are you still doing here?" She asks.

"You never said to leave."

She rolls her eyes. "Well do you have someplace to go?" Should I tell her the truth?

Sure, why not, my brain says.

Technically, yes. There's a one room, piece of shit shack in the middle of those woods. There's a mattress, a sink, a shower, and a toilet. Home sweet home.

"You live in a shack?"

Yep. Don't even have to pay rent.

"And do you like it?" She asks.

I hate it.

I hate it, hate it, hate it.

"If you'd like to change your living arrangements, all you have to do is ask." I wonder, ask what? If I can stay with her? Not exactly my idea of a good time. But this place is pretty nice. I'll go for it.

Can I please stay with you? Please, please, please?

"I didn't say you had to ask nicely. But yeah, you can. You like that couch right?"

Yeah, it's pretty nice.

"Great. That's where you'll be sleeping."

She turns around, walks straight into the bedroom, and closes the door. She's a cold, hard bitch. And damnit, I like it.