A/N: Well, this is my first cross-over. I hope you like it. It's gonna be kind of Blah at first, but, a lot of good stories are. It's getting the boring stuff out of the way first that sux. So, without further adeau, here's everyone's favorite part, the disclaimer!!

Disclaimer: Me no owney Naruto, Tripp, or Amy Lee (Since I make mention to those two brands/people in this chapter. ) But, Me does own Kamisori. She is mine. xP

Being the school's 'ninja' wasn't an easy thing. You had a certain reputation to uphold. And Kamisori Ame was faced with such a job. True, the young girl was foreign, moving to America when she was 13 because of her father's involvement with the Japanese army. After a personal dispute with one of Japan's most influential leaders, they left the country and relocated to America, where they were given a new life and new identities. Her father chose the surname Ame, so Kamisori's mother, a short, blonde-haired, blue-eyed scientist from Chicago, became known as Amy Ame. Kinda funny actually. At one point in her life, Kamisori Ame had been Asa Kagami, straight A student at Ieyosu High in Okinawa, Japan. American life was different than life back in Japan, but, she was at least able to remain the same person she always was. Even today, she is arrogant, short-tempered, loud, and much too intelligent for her age, the normal 17 year old of America. Well, minus the 'too smart for your age' thing, except for in some cases. Okay, got sidetracked, back to being the school 'ninja'. As I said, reputations were important in the eyes of her peers, and Kamisori had made her own bed without even realizing it. Her father, being a very respectful and patriotic man, incorporated many of his country's martial arts and other skills into his children's everyday lives. Even to this day, he continues to teach his daughter, though she is nearly even with his skills as an 8th degree black-belt in ninjitsu. No, not the same kind of ninjutsu Kamisori watched on Naruto, her absolute favorite anime, the real, traditional ninjitsu. The very same techniques and beliefs that were taught to the Emperor's spies, the shinobi, more commonly referred to as 'ninja'. Upon her request, Kenko Ame allowed his daughter to take up several interests. Her first interest was gymnastics, which proved to be an easy feat because of her near innate flexibility and balance. Then there was karate, again, a rather easy thing for her to pick up on. Next came kick-boxing, another sport that proved near painfully easy, and then, there was fencing. Fencing was another story. She was okay, not terrible, but still dangerous. When angered at least. Especially if you give her a real sword. Watch out.

Oh, right. That reputation I mentioned, that's actually a funny story. Well, in her eyes at least. First day at her new school, she was still 14 I mind you, her History teacher, Mrs. Schwartz, was ranting on at her because she wouldn't read aloud from the book. Kamisori understood what was written and spoke English relatively well, not to mention she was quite good at masking her accent, but she wasn't a very talkative person in public. So, of course, Mrs. Schwartz was determined to make her read. Finally, after muttering under her breath about Kamisori being a stupid, stubborn Japanese girl, she struck a nerve. Getting to her feet, a pen clenched in her fist, the young girl stood on her desk, head lowered, and after actually running across several students' shoulders, landed herself atop the teacher's large oak desk with an inaudible 'thud'. Despite her short stature, she managed to back the teacher up against the blackboard. The woman, who had to be in her mid forties, looked as though she was going to have a heart attack. "What was that about me being an arrogant little Japanese girl? You thought I wouldn't hear, didn't you? Never insult my nationality again… And let this serve as a warning." With that, she smashed her pen into the white dry-erase board that covered one of the room's larger walls. When I say smashed, I don't mean that it simply shattered. Oh, no. The pen stuck into the board. As soon as the pen came into contact with the board, the old woman sunk to the ground in a faint. Turning around sharply, Kamisori's unusual blue-lavendar eyes swept over the gaping crowed. She honestly wanted them to tell them to rolls their tongues up, scrape their jaws off the floor and put their eyeballs back in their sockets. But she left with a sigh. "Eh. I'm outta here." She muttered and simply spent the rest of the day wandering about the halls.

Either she had scared the old History teacher senseless (and speechless) or put her into a coma, because she never came back. Oddly enough, Kamisori never really got caught. There were two options. One: everyone was afraid of her and were simply trying to save their own hides by not squealing on her. Or option Two: They were thankful for what she did and didn't want her getting in trouble. Whichever way it went, though most likely the first option, no one ever confronted her on the matter. She was stuck as a loner in school, but, she didn't seem to mind. Her parents didn't question her either, for good reason. She was still a straight A student and in several advanced courses. But otherwise, she was always out past curfew, blasted her music much too loudly, sang into a microphone turned up much too high, though her voice was only comparable to Amy Lee's, her parents didn't much appreciate her singing in the middle of the night when the rest of the neighborhood was asleep. Not to mention that her love of this one show, Naruto, absorbed a lot of her time. Watching and re-watching the episodes, memorizing hand-seals, studying every aspect of the Naruto world, wishing she could experience it for herself. Much to her surprise, the day came.

Another day of school came and went. She made her way through the high school's halls and towards the door leading home as usual, and the same people staring at her. The young woman dressed similar to always, a simple black tank-top covered her rather voluptuous torso, exposing a teasing amount of her chest. Her hips were hidden mostly by a pair of wide-legged Tripp brand shorts that reached a few inches below her knees, silver chains reaching from either hip down to the large cargo pocket slightly above her knee on opposite sides, forming a protective 'X' across the back of her legs. Her favorite pair of 'piss-off' boots were on her feet. Reaching the middle of her shins, unlaced as always, the black, edgy leather and combat style screamed 'Fuck off before I kick your ass.' And that's usually how she felt when she was wearing them. That non-verbal warning was for the sorry soul who decided today would be a good day to bug her. Not too many people even considered doing said thing, but there was always that one persistent bastard that couldn't take a hint. And that, was Shea. He followed her everywhere, always trying to coax her into talking. He had never asked her on a date, but there was always the looming possibility. There were so many times she wanted to drive his nose into his brain and end his sniveling, but was able to pull herself away before she so much as punched him. And right on schedule, as if being summoned, he was by her side, talking about how he and his mother were going shopping that weekend. She simply drowned him out. With her simple, camouflage skate boarding book bag swung over her right shoulder, she walked into the girl's bathroom. The one place Shea couldn't follow her. Though she gave off an 'I don't give a shit' air most of the time, she, like any other teen girl, cared about her appearance. She doubted any girls would dare intrude since several saw her enter and wouldn't go in or let others go in until she left. Kamisori usually had that effect on people.

'If only I could work that 'magic' on Shea… ' She thought to herself, looking over her appearance in one of the bathroom mirrors positioned above a large, white porcelain sink. The sink's color was the same hue as her skin, maybe a bit paler. She ran her thin, nearly delicate fingers through the sleek black locks that flowed only to her shoulder before being finished off with a bright cherry red. They say bright colors are nature's warning signs after all, right? She carefully examined her only visible blue, almond shaped eyes looked almost out of place on her slightly menacing face, but, it still worked nicely. There is no particular reason why only one of her eyes visible, the other being shrouded by her hair that formed a small screen to stop the word from seeing all of her. The intense color of even one eye still brought attention to her entire eye area, making her cheekbones appear higher and her face narrower. Her lips were a bit on the small side, but just right for her face. Sighing, she swung her backpack onto the sink before un-zippering one of the smaller pouches.

Her backpack was a strange combination of school, home, and ninjitsu practice. Amongst the papers in the largest pouch, were shuriken, a small samurai sword, scrolls on various forms and lessons, etc. It was a wonder she never had her backpack searched. Not to mention a change of clothes, toothbrush, hairbrush and wallet that were crammed in there as well. Hey, you never know when you might want to run away from home, right? Well, anyway… Out of the smallest pocket on her backpack, she pulled out a stick of eyeliner. Though she was mostly Japanese, she had her mother's face to most extents. Her eyes didn't have the usual angle to them that her father's had, and the color wasn't really Japanese either. But, like I said, it was more her mother's face than anything. Applying another thin coat of black around her eyes, she slipped the stick back into her backpack and finally left the girl's room. Shea had left, as did a lot of the student body. No one really wanted to stay in school after the day was technically over, right? And Kamisori was one of them. Hurriedly making her way out the front doors, she practically sprinted home. A new episode was released in Japan today and she wanted to watch it as soon as possible. Her house was relatively close to school and she could walk there within 15 minutes. Running, she could make it in about 7. As soon as she was through her front door, she only took time to read the note posted on the bulletin board.

Kami, Your mother and I are on a 3 month long exchange program in China. We are helping teach the students Japanese and English. Take care of yourself and stay out of trouble. By the way, we're sorry we're going to miss your birthday, so, Happy 18th Birthday. Then her mother's handwriting took over. Our birthday present to you is a trip back home to Okinawa and a scholarship to Waseda University. There's a round-trip airline ticket, so feel free to come home whenever you like. We'll miss you a bunch. Like your father said, take care of yourself and don't get hurt. Love, Mom and Dad

She felt her lips pull into a small smile when she noticed the airline ticket tacked to the cork board beneath the note. 'This is going to be awesome!' she thought to herself, looking at the date on the ticket. 'Hmm… I still got 3 weeks before I leave. So, might as well slack off for now and pack later.' With that in mind, she hurried to the family's computer and brought up a website on which she could watch the real Japanese Naruto anime. Pulling herself unto the chair, with her legs tucked up beneath her, she pressed the play button and became absorbed in the latest adventure. Despite the fact that sitting with her book bag still on her back wasn't exactly comfortable, she would deal. Half way through the show, she must have fallen asleep. But when she woke up, she wasn't in America anymore. Or the right time period for that matter.

Things were unusually foggy; the whole world around her was a complete haze of colors and sounds, like waves crashing against the shore during a storm. Finally, as her eyes adjusted more so to the light, she was able to begin defining specific objects. And the waves disappeared, and a woman's voice became more noticeable, along with the faint intervene of a male's voice. As she began to take in her surroundings, the world around her seemed to become more and more familiar. Finally, she recognized the voices. 'What? No way. It's impossible. I'm probably just dreaming…' Kamisori thought reluctantly to herself before managing to pull herself into a sitting position on the bed she had been laying in. Looking around, she realized she was in a hospital room. But not like any room she'd ever seen. The technology looked… Primitive. Casting her eyes to the door, she saw a pair of teal eyes turn and look in at her as soon as she looked at them. With that, the door was swung open and a blond haired kunoichi hurried in.

"You're awake. Finally. There's a lot I need to ask you."

"Calm down Temari, give the girl some room. She just woke up and she's been unconscious in the desert for a few days." A male's voice broke in; a young man in a black jumpsuit walked in and placed a hand on his older sister's shoulder before drawing her back from the bed a little. All the young girl could do was look from one to the other, her face expressionless due to the fact that she was internally fighting with herself. There was no way this was real. No way in hell. But, it had to be. Temari and Kankurou were standing right in front of her, talking to her no less. Finally, Kamisori worked up the nerve to speak. Her voice was soft, with a hint of unusual harshness hidden deep within.

"Where am I?" she mumbled, finally blinking.

"Welcome to Sunagakure." The male answered. " I'm…"

Kamisori cut him off. "Kankurou. And she's Temari."

They stared wide-eyed at her. "How did you know that?" Temari instantly asked, distrust evident in her voice.

"I heard you two talking." The younger female replied, raising and lowering one shoulder.

There was a pause before Temari broke the silence. "I have a few questions to ask you. First, what is your name?"

Kamisori sighed before answering. " Kamisori Ame." She muttered, keeping her eyes on her hands.

"How old are you?" the blonde pressed on.

"17. Almost 18." Kamisori continued, still keeping her focus on her hands.

"What village are you from?"

The younger female didn't answer.

"I said…"

Kamisori cut in. "I heard you. I'm just thinking. As for my village, I'm a rogue ninja from the Mist village." She said simply, lying back against the sheets. She knew that it wasn't true. But, then again, it really didn't matter.

Temari nodded. "I see. Why did you leave?"

"Because I hate it there. I just wanted to find a new village to live in."

The 21 year old blonde stared at her for a moment, something glinting in her eyes.

"Don't stare at me." Kamisori muttered, Temari obviously taken aback that the young girl had noticed.

"Sorry…" she mumbled before continuing. "Well, I suppose you could live in Suna. We just need to officially place you among the classes."

Kankurou's smile was apparent. "I get first fight."

"Kankurou, you're a ANBU. She'll have to start with a Genin."

"Please. I'd kill a Genin. Probably a Chuunin too. I might as well just fight a Jounin and spare two lives." Kamisori immediately interjected.

Looking over her, Temari decided that a Jounin would be too much for her, but, agreed anyway. "I'll set up a meeting and find you a sparring partner. The council members and the Kazekage will have to be there…" the female droned on as she walked from the room, leaving Kankurou and Kamisori.

"Hey, why don't I show you around? I have a feeling you'll be staying a while." He said, motioning towards the door. Nodding, Kamisori slipped from the bed and pulled her boots on before getting to her feet and slinging her book bag, which was resting at the foot of her bed, over her shoulder.

The two walked from the building and Kankurou began the grand tour, pointing out places of importance. Kamisori occasionally added a comment about a building that Kankurou mentioned, having memorized Suna like the back of her hand. Sometimes, being an addict was a good thing.

They walked about for nearly two hours before Temari eventually found them. "Kamisori!" she gasped, her hands on her knees, clearly exhausted from running what was probably all over Suna. "The council…" she drew in another breath. "They have an opening…" another shaky breath. " In 5 minutes. And the Kazekage agreed to be there." She finally finished her message, still obviously out of breath.

"Come on, Temari-chan. I'll help you back to the Kazekage tower." Kamisori said softly, slipping under Temari's one arm while wrapping her own around the female's waist.

Despite being only 5 foot tall, the young girl had quite a bit of muscle to her. Kankuro pitched in and with his help, the three managed to get to the tower on time. By the time they got there, Temari could walk on her own and lead Kamisori to the indoor arena while Kankurou stood with his brother and the council. As the young woman passed, she gave a small wave to the group of men before muttering a greeting.

"Hi Kankurou, Gaara, Ibiki, Shizu…" she continued to rattle off the names of the other six council members before walking down the stairs off to the right of where the men were seated, almost all of them gaping openly at her. Not only because of her appearance, but because she knew them all by name. Before she was out of earshot, she heard Kankurou mumble to his younger brother.

"I never told her your names…" his voice was a bit loud, but sounded a bit surprised at the same time.

As she walked into the area, she could feel a pair of aquamarine eyes, along with several other sets, watching her every move. She set her book bag down in one of the corners out of the way before pulling out several shuriken and slipping them in her pockets. That was all she needed. With that, she turned and walked closer to the center of the arena, standing aloof as ever as she awaited her opponent.

A/N: Well, that's Chapter 1 of my first cross-over. I apologize if i got a little sketchy at some points, but, ya know. Well, all I can say is, tell me if you like it, tell me if you don't. Help me improve if you will. Or if you'd like to be my Beta reader, then let me know. ) Thanks for reading!

Kei