Another random one-shot, because I was not satisfied with the backstory the anime's filler gave to Pakura. And because this fits in better with my Suna-centric fan-fictions anyway. I always thought of her as being from The Fourth Kazekage and Karura's generation and being romantically involved with TFK. Not that this story has anything to do with that.
Pakura of Sunagakure
People were screaming. Walls were caving in. The roofs were burning. I covered my mouth with my mom's old beige scar and ran out of my house into the chaos the Mist's swordsmen had created. There was smoke everywhere. No matter which way I turned, all I could see was fire and dead villagers. My neighbors, my teachers, my friends' parents. My knees trembled. What if I saw my own parents?
A man running by pushed me out of his way. "Run! Hide! Don't just stand there, stupid!" Then a blade pierced his chest and he was dead.
I looked up into the face of his assassin. I couldn't tell which of the swordsmen he was. He was completely covered in blood. "You should listen to him, little girl," he said, smiling what I can only describe as sweetly.
In an instant I was gone, fleeing as fast as I could, stepping around and on top of bodies that no longer held life. Not sure if that particular swordsman chased me, if any of them spotted and attack me. At the moment I was only another one of the dozens of terrified villagers running without direction, desperate for shelter. Because seven murdurers were massacring us and the raging fire burning and suffocating us.
Dammit. My village, home of the scorch release users, was being decimated by fire and seven men from the Mist out of all things. I didn't realize I was crying until the tears blurred my vision and forced me to stop. If only I was a kunoichi already, I could've fought. I could've protected my people. Instead, I was just a six year old little girl, powerless, hopeless. My legs gave out beneath me.
That's when I noticed Akane. She was only four years old and she was looking around, crying, possibly searching for her parents. Her cheeks were covered in ash and between her sobs she was coughing violently from having inhaled so much smoke.
I staggered towards her and picked her up. A collapsed house laid to our right, so I walked there. With some effort I lifted some wood, then in a void space underneath I placed the little girl down and climbed right in. The piece of wood served as a roof. "I know it's hot and cramped, but no one can see us now. We'll be fine," I told Akane. I gave her half my scarf so she could cover her mouth and patted her back until she fell asleep. Then I closed my eyes and thought happy thoughts until the screaming stopped.
Next time I opened them was when a shinobi from Sunagakure raised the ceiling of my makeshift shelter.
"There are two survivors over here!" he told his squad, which quickly rushed to aid us.
Akane and I were dirty, starving, and dehydrated, but we were alive. Survivors of the Scorch Village; orphaned refugees of Sunagakure. Later, kunoichi of Sunagakure. To our new home that had been so kind to us, we would lend our stregth, protection, and loyalty. Until the day we died. And as for the bloody Mist, I could only dream of the day when with my own hands I'd be strong enough to burn it to the ground, just like it had once done with my childhood.