It was cold, or at least, the drops of water falling from the sky were cold. As I lay back against the grass, I could see the lighting flashing through the trees. One, two, three, four... I closed my eyes; five, six, seven, eight... I felt the earth shake from the power of the thunder. I figured it wasn't such a good idea to be outside during such a storm, but where else did I have to go? What choice did I have?

The storm was close to eight miles away, but there was really no way to tell what direction it was coming from. I couldn't hear the rain hitting my skin, but I could feel it. I couldn't hear the thunder practically shattering the sky, but I could sense it. My dream, ever since I was a young girl, was to hear something, anything, even if it was the sound of my own scream. I had always longed to carry on a verbal conversation with someone, but it was impossible for an aspiring shinobi like me. You could talk to me, but it would literally fall on deaf ears. Silence, despite the fact that that was all I knew, was my biggest fear.

Sensing someone near by, I opened my eyes and shot up, spinning around and leaping into a crouch. There, standing roughly ten paces away from me, was a young man. He looked no younger than me, but there was something about him that gave him an eternal look. I couldn't help but wonder if it was his eyes that cast that illusion.

I raised my hands to sign out my questions of "who are you" and "what do you want," but he raised his arms in the offensive. I frowned and lowered my hands. Most people thought that, when I was only trying to talk to them, I was going to attack them. His eyes, slightly narrowed, never left me, and his arms, raised and ready to strike, never lowered.

"Who are you?" I tried to say, not knowing whether or not I was successful. I could feel the vibrations of the sound coming from my mouth, but having never heard how a word was supposed to sound, he probably hadn't understood what I was trying to ask him. However, realization dawned on him, and for a brief second, he appeared confused. But then his apathy returned, and he walked forward, crouching in front of me. In a moment of rare bravery, I reached for his hand and held it in mine. He tried to snatch it back, but I shook my head and tapped the corner of my eye, signalling for him to watch. I opened his tightly fisted hand and spread it out so I could easily trace the letters of the sentence I had wanted to form.

He frowned and looked around him for a moment. Then his shoulders drooped and his lips parted slightly as though he had sighed. He reached up to uncork the gourd on his back. In response, sand flowed out and slid to the ground in front of him; he waited for less than five seconds for the sand to turn to mud before he began writing.

Gaara.

I gestured to the sand and he nodded. I shifted and crawled beside him so I could write my name in the sand. In response to the closeness of my body, he tensed. I merely smiled and, after writing my name, returned to my previous spot.

Mizuki.

I reached for his hand again and traced the letters of my next question. Are you alone? He didn't respond right away, and he even looked as though I had taken him by surprise. I stretched my arm and tapped his forehead, right on the kanji. He blinked and began writing in the sand. It expanded of its own accord, giving him more room to write. I glanced up at him, but it must have been nothing new to him, because he didn't even seem to notice it. I couldn't help but be amazed.

Yes. I'm travelling. Are you alone?

I nodded and wrote my response in the sand, shifting back to my place beside Gaara as I did so. But instead of moving back as I had the last time, I decided to stay where I sat. He barely flinched this time.

Yes. I'm alone here and everywhere else. I have no home.

I glanced at him through the corner of my right eye, waiting for some sort of reaction, like shock or sympathy, but he didn't show any emotion. I could practically see the gears turning as he mulled over what I wrote, but his expression never changed. After less than thirty seconds, he began to write again.

Neither do I.

I frowned and wiped my hand across the sand. I expected someone that looked like him to have a home, or at least somewhere to go. He had said that he was travelling, but was that the truth? I looked up at him, and even though he wasn't looking at me, I searched his face for any sign of sadness of anything. It seemed though that Gaara had no room for emotion.

Gaara, are you a shinobi?

He nodded and looked at me, not even bothering to write in the sand. I could see the same question in his light green eyes. I pursed my lips and fell back against the grass, staring up at the sky. Then I raised my hand and pointed my thumb downwards. I glanced at him and he nodded and stood, as though he were about to leave. For some reason, I began to panic. I rolled over and grabbed his ankle, making him stop. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed his hand.

Don't go.

His eyes narrowed and he looked at me for a while, probably trying to figure out if I was a ninja in disguise or something. Then he grabbed me before I could protest, wrapping his arm around my waist, and began running. I wasn't trained, so obviously I wouldn't have been able to keep up with his speed, therefore he had to semi-carry me to wherever he was planning on taking me.

Before I knew it we were on the outskirts of the village Hidden in the Leaves. I looked at him questioningly, but he only shook his head and pulled me along behind him with his hand wrapped firmly around my wrist. I didn't understand why I was following him so willingly, or why I hadn't wanted him to leave me so soon. I had no idea who he really was, or, had he been given the excuse to, if he would have killed me back in the forest. I poked his shoulder, trying to get his attention, but he ignored me. I huffed, feeling the small puff of air escape my body in a show of frustration.

Abruptly he stopped, making me run into him. He turned and took my hand, tracing three letters in my palm. Eat. He gestured to the ramen shop down the road and placed some money into my hand. Once more, he tried to leave, but I grabbed his wrist, pleading silently for him to stay. I could see the questions in his eyes, but they were questions even I didn't think I could answer. He nodded briskly and followed me this time to the ramen shop.

While I waited, I grabbed a pencil and a sheet of paper from the other side of the counter.

Why do you want to leave so much?

Because I have some things I need to take care of.

Can I ask what those things are?

No.

My eyes burned with the tears really shouldn't have been rising. I glanced at him, but he was staring down at his hands which were folded in his lap.

Will I ever see you again?

Maybe.

Can you stay for a little longer?

He took the paper and crumpled it into a ball in his hand, nodding instead of writing. I allowed myself a small relieved smile and turned to look at the bowl of ramen sitting before me. Despite myself, I could feel my stomach growling. The owner of the ramen shop was trying to carry on a conversation with Gaara as I ate, but Gaara wasn't interested in talking. I wasn't looking at him, but I could feel his strange eyes on me, watching me as though he were making sure I ate every bit of what he had bought for me. Halfway through the bowl, I stopped eating and pushed it away, shaking my head. I felt sick, probably because I had eaten too much. It was more than I had ever eaten in my entire life.

Understanding, Gaara stood and wrapped his arm around my waist and put my arm around his shoulders and led me away from the ramen shop. Earlier in the forest, I had told him that I had no home, so what he was doing now was wandering aimlessly through the village probably wondering what exactly to do with me. Before long though, we were stopped by a relatively tall man with spiky black hair and what appeared to be a scar across the bridge of his nose. I lifted my head to look at him, watching him and Gaara talk. The man's eyes filled with sympathy, but Gaara remained apathetic. He shifted me from his arms to the stranger's arms. I panicked again, reaching out for the boy I had just met.

He reached out and took my hand, holding my gaze for what seemed like an eternity. Then a ghost of a smile made the corners of his mouth twitch upwards and he touched my cheek with the palm of his hand.

I'll see you soon, Mizuki.