AN: Moi moi, dear readers. Peruna here. Have I ever told you about the wonders of procrastination? Research has even shown that procrastination helps the creative process! Isn't that fascinating? Will you please not lynch me for putting off the next chapter of Lizard Brain? No? Well, can't have everything. Anyway, this is just a short experiment to see if I can write anything good in second person narrative (is that how you call it? I got no idea). Please do give your opinion on whether or not I manage to pull the perspective off, because I think it's kinda hard to make it broad enough that the reader can easily immerse themselves, while still having some kind of personality.

I do not own Naruto.

This is stupid.

It is dangerous.

Shinobi should generally be left alone, not snuck up to. Especially when those shinobi are battle-hardened Jounin. Especially when it's the middle of the night.

This is stupid, you tell yourself as your hands clench and unclench nervously, trying to ignore how your palms are sweating.

"This is stupid!", you hiss at your brother who's standing next to you with a sly smirk, his hitai-ate glinting above his smug expression.

"Chicken", he chuckles lightly and you can see it, can see in that quirk of his lips that he doesn't believe you can pull it off. It doesn't matter that he has always known just how to push your buttons, in this moment all you know is that it is on!

Looking up at the window, you swallow dryly. Sure, your uncle would never consciously hurt you, even if he happened to catch you sneaking into his apartment in the dead of night, but even as a newly-minted Genin I know that being a shinobi is not always about the conscious decisions. There are instincts. There is pranoia and questions asked only after the threat is eliminated. But damn it all, you will show him that he has to take you seriously now!

The last two years you had to endure your brother boasting about being a ninja and now you are too, so he'll have to respect you once you've proven your skill. And by the Will of Fire, you will show him!

So you step up to the smooth concrete wall of the apartment building and channel chakra to your hands, testing that it does indeed let you stick to the vertical surface before stepping up onto the wall. When you look down at him, your brother gives you an encouraging thumbs up and it makes you feel a bit better, despite the jittery nerves plaguing you. Tree walking isn't taught at the Academy, but if everybody in your family is a shinobi there are some basics that you naturally pick up on.

Crawling up the wall more than simply walking, you reach the correct second-story window and start examining it in the dull light of a streetlamp around the corner and the weak moonshine from the rather cloudy sky. There have to be traps, every good ninja is paranoid and if his stories are anything to go by, your uncle is a very good ninja indeed.

Thankfully you can spot the tripwire along the bottom of the windowsill, as well as one very thin, almost invisible thread of something metallic diagonally bisecting the space in front of the window. Those should be fine as they are, knowing their position you are certain you can slip past without setting them off. Being short and nimble, not quite in the age of awkward growth spurts -as your brother is, ha!- has it's advantages.

Just as you grip the bottom of the window to slide it open, a click has you freezing. Your heart is pounding so loudly in your chest that the beat travels all the way up your throat to lodge in your ears, the hectic drumming all but deafening in the silence of night. With shallow, stuttering breaths, you lean forward to see what kind of horror you have unleashed while keeping your fingertips glued in the exact same position, afraid of setting off the trap should you let go of the window.

Through the glass you can spot the trap, a wire running along the inside of the window frame, leading to a spring launcher loaded with all kinds of deadly weapons you don't even want to imagine. The wire is quivering, at the edge of snapping out of the trigger holding it back, the trigger that opened when you moved he window, it's on the side of the frame, on the other side of the glass.

You take a deep, trembling breath to centre yourself. You can do this. All you need is patience and dexterity and that's not so hard, is it? With another deep breath, you inch a little closer to the window, crouching on the side of the building and slide your right hand through the narrow space of the opened window. Holding your breath, you wait for another trap you haven't noticed to trigger, but nothing happens, so you take in another deep lungful of air and ask the kami for help before dfocusing on the goal. You force your fingers to stop trembling and watch unblinkingly as they approach the open trigger. Almost there, almost there, almost...

With a twist of your knuckles, the trigger closes and locks, clicking again and it's the most beautiful sound you have ever heard. Relief flushes through your body and makes your head feel light and you can't believe you've done it! A sigh escapes your lips and you look down at your brother who is still watching you with rapt attention. Right, this isn't what he dared you to do, you still have to sneak into your uncle's room and put the note on his bed. But you can't help but feel so accomplished already, the adrenaline pounding with your pulse giving you a rush like nothing you've ever experienced before. You give your brother a thumbs-up and he grins back at you, before sliding the window open all the way and shimmying inside, careful not to catch on any of the wires running across the space.

It's a good thing that you know your uncle's apartment like the home you've grown up in, because it is shrouded in complete darkness, the light from outside not able to penetrate the shadows inside. Carefully, you pick your way around the couch towards the hallway. Across the living room is the kitchen, but further along the corridore is the bedroom and that's where you have to go. Sneaking over the wooden flooring, you avoid the creaky spots you know are there, you avoid making any sounds at all, every time that your clothes rustle you silently curse inside your own head.

But nothing moves except for you. There are no trip wires, no traps that you have to avoid, you just have to tread lightly along a mostly straight line towards the bedroom door. Your breath hitches. The bedroom door is open, the window inside letting moonlight into the room, illuminating it enough to see clearly. The bed is empty.

"And what do you think you're doing?" A voice whispers right behind your left ear. Your shriek is involuntary and your instinctual attempt to flee is disrupted by a strong arm catching you around the middle. Outside you can hear your brother's laughter and a menacing chuckle sounds right behind you. "I clearly remember warning you not to approach sleeping shinobi, but it appears you need another reminder."

A whimper is all the answer you can give to that. At that moment you swear bloody revenge on your brother for goading you into this. This was the last time you would fall for that trick! No more tests of courage!