Hey, Piper Here! This is my first story in this new little "project" of mine. Posts will be pretty infrequent, but I'm pretty sure that they will keep coming. Please enjoy and review (not too harsh, though. A little happy criticism works too).

Lost On The Path

Chapter One: My (sort-of) little bro

"Ayame, if you do not open this door right now, I am going to knock it down so help me god."

I smiled and leaned against the small and frail door to my one-roomed apartment, feeling the sound from his knocking fist vibrate throughout my spine. I took a deep breath and made my voice mockingly bashful for the reply "oh, but I don't want you to see the wretched state of this dump."

"I don't find this amusing," I heard him refrain from knocking and slump down, his back to the door, probably in the same position as me.

Funny was the one word that I could accurately use to describe this. How many times had I been in his position, pounding on the door and trying to drag him out? "Besides, why on earth would you want to drag me away from my cozy retirement?"

"Because my dad told me too, that's why. He says you're far too comfortable while the rest of us work, or some shit like that...why? Do You think I would do this of my own volition?" That was my (sort-of) brother speaking. Never did anything if he could help it, "can I at least come in? I might fall asleep in the hallway if you're not careful."

I sighed and pulled the door open suddenly enough that he stumbled through and onto the ground, "sorry for my unearthly apartment," I said, scratching my head as I looked around, "the bed's in here somewhere, but I just put a blanket on the counter and sleep there."

Shikamaru's jaw was completely slack as he looked at my wasteland. I went through slowly, brushing things out of the way until I found first a lawn chair and then a pouf to drag into the clearing for us to sit on, "so what's this shit that your dad's spilling about me coming out of retirement?"

"You know it would do a lot of help to everyone," Shikamaru said on his pouf, "other ninja in the village have been through much more shit than you and they're still fighting. You're in the ANBU squad: one of the best."

"Correction: I was in the ANBU squad. And one thing that nobody seems to get is that I HATED it. I hated it. Hated killing, hated torture, hated taking orders, hated watching people die. I never wanted to be a fucking ninja! That shit's overrated."

Shikamaru sighed and leaned back, "I'm a Chunin now, you know," was all he could think to say as a reply. I sighed and ran one hand through my hair in exasperation.

"How old would that make you?"

"Thirteen now. And you?"

"Nineteen."

We sat in silence, him looking me up and down. It was an uncomfortable feeling, being looked at. Even when I wore turtleneck shirts and let my hair hang loose around my face, the scars were still visible, looking rude, raw, and red as they snaked up around the border of the right side of my face, teasing the corner of my eye and my hairline.

"You didn't have to move so far away from the village, though," he said, "and I'm not allowed to go back if you're not with me."

"Then you'll have a good life here with me."

"This isn't where I want to be," he said, sighing and putting his hands on his knees, "I traveled two-hundred fucking miles in the past week to come and get you, all because dad told me to, and after four years of absence from my life, you think that you can dictate me around!"

He was getting heated now, and I loved it. People show their truer colors when they're angry.

"Do you want to know the real reason that I left the village?" I asked him. He didn't, no matter what he said. Nobody wanted to hear the real reason.

"Yes."

Bad answer.

"Well I'm not going to tell you. And because I'm feeling gracious tonight, you can sleep on the counter. I've got dibs on the bathtub. Good night."

I picked up a blanket and pillow on my way to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. The mirror had long-since been smashed so that I didn't have to go through the pain of staring at myself. The small bits of broken mirror were still gathered in the bottom of the sink.

I was weak, I would admit. I was host to the spirit inside of me: Hakaisha-Karasu, the destroyer bird. Being the host of the Karasu was similar to being a Jinchuriki host, but much more difficult. In order to host a creature such as the Karasu, one had to be born with special chakras of containment. Even if you did have the correct chakras, there was a special chemistry to one's soul that they needed.

The Karasu was also painfully difficult to control, and the channel of chakra that I could draw from it was thin and flowed extremely slowly. I had it bound with the chains of my heart, therefore I could draw a bit more of its chakra, but it still wanted to kill me the entire time.

I had only learned to fully control the Karasu during the first year of my retirement, when I was fifteen. I still found myself having sweaty, epilepsy-esque fits from time to time as the beast pushed on me from the inside.

It was a given fact, I forced myself to realize, that I would be returning to Konoha. I wasn't sure if I could stand having my (sort-of) little brother banished from the village because of me. I sighed and lay down in the tub, ensconcing myself in warm fleece blanket.

Sleep didn't come easily that night. To be frank, it hadn't come easily in about one thousand, eight hundred and twenty five nights (5 years). Most nights, it was a miracle if I even fell asleep at all so I should have been thanking god for the gift of sleep.

But maybe it's better when you don't sleep.

It keeps the nightmares away.

"Ayame! Wake up!" a small-ish pair of hands were roughly shaking me back and forth, moving with frantic sense of urgency.

I ceased my screams and straightened up immediately, managing to bonk heads with Shikamaru and sent myself sinking back into the tub with a loud moan, "what?" I asked crabbily. There was going to be a bruise there the next day.

"Y-you were screaming, so I decided to come in and wake you up," he said, his eyes changing from fearful to bored, "pack your stuff, because we're leaving at noon."

I scoffed and sat up, "what makes you think that you can force me to come back with you?" I asked, sitting up in the tub as he walked towards the sink, looking into the broken mirror with furrowed eyebrows then running the water over his hands, not bothering to soap them.

"Because there's too much for you in the village," he said simply, "you've got your dad and my family, That man with the eyebrows, Yamato-kun, Kotetsu-kun, Izumo-kun, Iruka-sensei, Asuma-sensei…" he drifted off before meeting my eyes again, "they all want to see you, too, you know."

I sighed and slumped my shoulders, looking down and into the drain of the tub, where several chunks of accidentally-ripped-out hair were stuck, "why me?" I asked, and closed my eyes. I hadn't cried in nearly twelve years and wasn't going to start now, "I'm coming, I guess. Just get out please. Come back at noon." I sat and listened to his footsteps as they made their way back through the apartment and out the door.

Ah, I'm so stupid! I screamed aloud, standing up and walking over to what was left of the mirror. I drew my arm back and punched it as hard as I could. Glass rained around me, slicing my scalp and arm, creating a small scratch on my nose.

Karasu's power immediately flared up to heal my wounds, but I fought against it, twisting my fist around, watching the blood drip down my wrist.

There, I thought, removing my hand and watching the raw, bloody knuckles as they smiled up at me. That was good enough recompense. What would any of them think? What would any of them say?

They would hate me, of course. Iruka was probably more bitter than I cared to imagine, Asuma burning with disappointment, Maki as hateful as always. Hell, Kakashi probably had forgotten my name by this point. He had never enjoyed me anyway—just sort-of protected me.

Gai would be fine, and then Kotetsu and Izumi would welcome me back with the most open of arms that I could possibly imagine. The three of them had sheltered me the most in my life.

My father was hardly ever in the village, spending so much of his time tracking down his ex-teammate throughout the world. I could not deny that he was the one that I loved more than anyone else, but it made me sickeningly angry to think about his large absence in my life, thinking that giving me that Nara family as an exchange would somehow work for me.

And Kushina was dead. I loved her more than anything I had ever felt before. Gai had the ghost of an understanding of me, and she had the entire thing. We were hosts together, suffering together, stuffing ourselves with unhealthy food together. I would liked to have thought that she was my biological mother. I would never know who my biological mother was, I feared.

There was now no sign at all that a mirror once hung on that wall, just an empty medicine cabinet, without a door. I knew what I would have seen, though, had I looked in the mirror.

I would have seen the face of a killer.

An angry, selfish killer. Moonlight pale skin, large thick-lashed silver eyes, a regal curve to her nose, considerably thin lips, high cheekbones, wavering jawline. Pale bronze-colored ringlets fell everywhere around her body, down to her waist.

And there were the scars. I had them all the way down to the top of my right thigh. They hugged me angrily like a glove, looking raw and shiny, as if I had been eaten alive. They didn't curve too far around me, though. They hugged my ribcage and waste, a good half of my right breast, my shoulder, chest area, a good half of my neck, and the outside curve of my face.

I didn't have the guts for this shit, I realized for the umpteenth time.

There was nothing that I needed in this apartment, I realized, looking around. My Konoha gear was all back at home, rotting in the basement.

I had two outfits total, and since it was hot outside, I opted for the second, which consisted of plain madras shorts and a loose-fitting t-shirt that had been sliced around the collar and the waist. I had bought this off of some man in the village where I had taken residence in, for only two Ryo.

I managed to find a tent somewhere amongst the rubble, and decided to carry it with me, in the event that Shikamaru had somehow made this week's journey without a tent.

And with that last resentful thought, I was ready to go.

Back to some remnant of my prior life.

There we go, Chapter One. Not as scary a process as I thought (although I did have to convert my files to Microsoft Word for this to work). Please R&R (if this website even has review...I should look into that)

Chapter Two coming soon-perhaps even tonight, If internet at the Best Western doesn't fail me.

Love Y'all!

XOXO Piper