Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. The few sentences at the beginning of each chapter is from a song I wrote myself and has not yet been published, so it is allowed (I think) and please do not steal it. The title is 'Escape.' If you'd like a 'theme song' written for one of your stories, feel free to message me about it. I get this lovely warm feeling when someone shares their thoughts about my stories, so please review!

~ Taboo: Chapter One ~

I was the girl in the corner by myself

Reading my fairytales all alone

No one pays attention to a girl who's 4 foot 6

With a serious attitude

"Shorty!"

He wheezed it and it took some time before the word reached her ears. The first reaction was cold hard silence. Then she raised her hand and grasped his collar, pulling him up to meet her eyes, which wasn't difficult, because he almost met her eyes from his spot on his belly. Her eyes flashed, and then she did something she might not regret too much later.

She hit him hard, in the face. Then she left his sorry hide in the dust and went out for lunch, feeling quite pleased with herself for an obvious reason.

Hisoka swung her legs back and forth on the chair. One might think she was eight or so years old if not for the very mature scowl on her face. Maybe she'd have felt better if her feet reached the floor when she swung them back and forth. Then again, maybe not.

"Hisoka Mizutani, am I right?" Iruka-sensei asked slowly, bending over to meet her at eye-level. Her scowl deepened.

"Who's asking?" She retorted, crossing her arms defensively and pursing her lips sourly. Iruka sighed, hanging his head.

"I would say kiss and make up, but you don't seem very penitent at all," he said mournfully. Hisoka snorted and then was silent.

"That wasn't very nice," Iruka continued. "That poor boy you hit in in the hospital now with a broken nose and black eye. He's probably at least three years older than you, too, and a Chunin. I'm not even going to ask how you managed it, being so small."

Hisoka stiffened slightly.

"I mean, most little girls would run off crying. I appreciate your youthful enthusiasm, but perhaps a little less next time?" Iruka suggested. There was a moment of silence. Hisoka suddenly brought her foot up at an inhuman speed, and Iruka doubled over. Oh, yes. She had done it. She had hit him just there.

There was some muffled laughter from the class who was observing, and then there were some who didn't even attempt to hide it.

"Say that again," Hisoka dared, her eyes flashing. Some students made furtive 'stop now while you're ahead' motions to Iruka-sensei. Her teacher straightened up, the look on his face one of pain. He tried to tower imposingly over her (which wasn't usually difficult) but the pain of those few uncharted inches lower than his midsection caused him to stop about halfway up.

"You can sit out this class," he said, his voice strained. "Go sit over there, Mizutani."

The demon child (new nickname – thank Iruka) leaned forward slightly, pushing herself up with her hands on the chair until she was about ear-height. Her lips parted, and then she imparted eternal wisdom on her weary, over-worked teacher.

"You can stick that…"

The rest, I am sorry to say, was incoherent, but the class got the gist of it. About half doubled over in laughter, some cheered her on, and some of the more studious students looked torn between reproach and awe. Iruka was speechless for the third time ever in his entire life. The first two were with a certain male blond student who, he was glad to say, had graduated years before and was long gone. He had thrown a small party in his apartment afterward and got happily drunk and ended up owing a lot of money to someone, but that's a story for another time.

"You…" he spluttered, trying to reclaim his speech ability. Hisoka smiled sweetly.

"For the record," she said as she hopped off the chair. She crossed the classroom and waited by the door momentarily, glancing back at him. "I'm not short," she finished. Then she disappeared from the doorway, and, as Iruka gazed over the class, within moments the entire classroom was silent except for the nervous fidgeting and finger-pointing.

"She's not short," Iruka said to himself, shaking his head slowly. "She's not short, damn it. She's just a little firework waiting to explode in your face. Man, she reminds me of Naruto Uzumaki so much..."

Hisoka paused momentarily to glare through the trees at a group of older Chunin. Though she may not have looked it, she was only about a year or two younger than them. She would graduate from the Academy soon, along with the rest of her boring class. As far as Hisoka was concerned, Iruka Sensei would give her a hitai-ate even if she had to pry it out of his cold, dead hands.

She watched the group for a moment. It was comprised of two boys and one girl. One of the boys had his hair in a ponytail and the other boy was delightfully chubby, and the girl had long blond hair tied back in a ponytail with her bangs covering one side of her face. Hisoka snorted. Fashion diva.

She kept walking. Of course the training grounds would be busy at this time, because this was normally when they were free (because class was still going in the Academy). Nevertheless, Hisoka thwarted their plans again.

"Excuse me," asked a polite voice from behind her. She turned slightly. It was another group of Chunin, another of one girl and two boys, and quite an odd-looking group at that. The girl had delightful pink hair and hazel eyes, one of the boys blond and blue-eyed and the other, the one who had spoken to her, extraordinarily pale and dark-haired.

"Shouldn't you be in school, little girl?" The person continued. Hisoka froze. Why, oh why, was it always her?

"Excuse me?" She said through gritted teeth.

"Sai, that's rude," the girl scolded.

"Oh? I read in a book that when speaking to small children, you should come up with a cute nickname and smile when you talk to them slowly and clearly. Is that wrong?" The boy asked curiously. Hisoka didn't have time for him to mull over the specifics, and instead she smiled up at him.

"You look awfully pale, sir," she said clearly and politely. Without warning, her eyes suddenly flashed crimson. "Shall I, perhaps, dip you in boiling oil until your skin burns to a blackened crisp and your innards are baked nice and tender like an organic sweet potato?"

All three jumped back in surprise – or rather, two. The blond one looked down like he had just noticed her.

"Who's that?" He asked, frowning slightly.

"Don't make any sudden movements," the pink-haired girl murmured, her eyes wide, holding the pale boy's hand as she slowly took a step back. "Okay, now just back away really slowly…"

"I'll give you all posthumous names," Hisoka sputtered, growling like a cat faced with an entire bathtub full of water and bubbles. Naruto thought about whom that threat reminded him of.

"How cute," the pale-skinned boy said a little weakly. "Er… Sakura, appease it."

"Why me? You were the one who infuriated it," the pink-haired girl hissed back. "Appease it yourself, Sai."

"I'm not an appeaser by nature," Sai explained.

"What are you talking about?" The blond boy knelt down to inspect Hisoka through half-shut eyes. "She's just a little girl."

Naruto Uzumaki wasn't sure how it happened, or why it happened, or even why it had to happen to him, but the next thing he knew, he had hit a tree headfirst with about as much spinning fury as a small fourteen-year-old girl can manage. She fumed behind him, her aura glowing with murderous intent.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Naruto said pleadingly, on his knees as he begged for mercy. There was no mercy from the demon child.

"Hey, Mizutani-san!" Someone called. Like a rabid bunny rabbit, Hisoka went from murderous rage to ultimate innocence in a flash, looking back at the boy who was hurrying towards her. He stopped in front of her, panting, his hand on his knees. He looked up.

"There you are," he said, relieved. "Are these your friends?"

"Meet Potato Fry, Sissy, and Weakling," Hisoka said, pointing from Sai to Sakura to Naruto. "They're more like insulting idiots of the worst kind."

"Oh, they said it, huh?" The boy said agreeably, nodding seriously.

"Oh, so that's creative nicknaming," Sai murmured thoughtfully from behind them. Sakura scowled.

"It's just a little girl, so I'm not going to hit her or anything, but consider this a warning," Sakura said evilly. Hisoka mirrored the evil grin.

"I'll have you know I'm fourteen, and I'll bet you I can beat you fairly in a one-on-one," she said threateningly. "If not, I'll take back the nickname and give you a better one."

"Bad idea," the boy mouthed from behind Hisoka, desperately miming decapitation to Sakura.

"You're on," she said agreeably. Hisoka began to grin.

"What's all this, then?" asked a new voice from a behind her. Hisoka frowned suddenly.

"Well, top me with seaweed and call me sushi," she said incredulously, turning around to meet the newcomer. "It's Iruka-sensei's replacement."

"Yes, well, Iruka had to suddenly head to the hospital for fear he would never be able to procreate the species… er, never mind," the man said hurriedly. "You two have to get back to class, especially the little girl after that stunt she pulled in the classroom."

"Call me that again, and I'll take your ability to procreate too," Hisoka threatened, brandishing a fist.

"She would. She's merciless," the boy said woefully. He turned slightly towards Naruto. "I'd like to apologize on my sister's behalf," he said, giving a dazzling smile and bowing to the small group of Chunin. "I'm Kuro Mizutani, and you've already met my older sister Hisoka."

"He's so cute," Sakura cooed, her eyes devolving into hearts as she held back the urge to hug him and cover him in kisses. Her maternal instinct would never, ever outdo her.

Come on, you know you want to, inner Sakura crooned. Sakura shook her head and looked firmly down at Kuro.

"I'm Sakura," she said in a business-like fashion, holding her hand out stiffly. Kuro took it gracefully and, instead of shaking it, lifted it to his lips and gave her hand a small peck. Sakura whipped around, fighting back the now life-threatening desire to hug the adorable little boy.

"Seems I'll have to go for now," Hisoka said mournfully. She shot a dark look at Sakura. "But I'll be back, I'm warning you! I'll kick your butt yet. And you, Potato Fry… I'm watching you…" she pointed with two fingers from her eyes to the group threateningly in the 'I'm watching you' gesture, and then gaily hopped after Iruka's replacement. Kuro glanced back at them solemnly.

"I'd better get going," he said. He turned back and shot Sakura another dazzling smile. "I will return, fair maiden."

He disappeared after them.

"I just want to…" Sakura choked, her heavenly aura of happiness radiating around her in pastel shades and pastoral flower patterns. "He's just so… cute!"

"Breathe, Sakura-chan," Naruto said, scowling. "I'll take her down for you. She needs to be taught a lesson for sure."

"Fair maiden?" Sai frowned slightly. "I see… put towards the cuteness factor, I assume…"

"You can't analyze everything, Sai," Sakura said with a sigh. She jerked a finger towards the direction Hisoka and Kuro had disappeared in. "You could learn a whole lot of stuff from him, you know."

"I think I shall," Sai said cheerfully. "I will return, fair maiden."

With that, he disappeared. Sakura and Naruto looked after him blandly.

"It just doesn't work the same when he says it," Sakura said finally.

"No," Naruto agreed. They turned and headed back in the other direction.

"Hisoka, you ungrateful child, look at me when I'm talking to you!"

There was a ringing slap that echoed throughout the hall of the small house. Hisoka froze, her head turned, her cheek stinging. Then she slowly turned her head back to face her angry father, her expression calm.

"I sent you to the Academy to learn more than just the Way of the Shinobi," he exclaimed. "Not only did you fail to learn any of that, but manners, too!"

There was another ringing slap as he turned her other cheek. There was another pause, just like the first, and Hisoka emotionlessly turned her gaze back to her father.

"Er…" Hisoka's mother tried to butt in, but her father raised a hand threateningly, and Hisoka's mother retreated with a sorrowful look at her only daughter.

"They sent me a letter today," Hisoka's father growled. "Do you know what it said? I'll give you a hint. It mentioned our daughter and an act of willful misconduct. Hisoka, I adopted you assuming that you would make us proud, and instead you… you run around misbehaving? How could you turn on me like that?"

"Well, it involved quite a bit of enduring the pained yells of my conscience," Hisoka replied slowly, as though she were thinking it through. Kuro winced from the doorway as there was another smacking sound, accompanied by a small whimper as Hisoka fell to her knees.

"Don't you dare turn that smart-ass mouth on me, young lady. If you ever so much as put an eyelash over that line again, so help me, I will kill you," her father growled menacingly. He stood up suddenly, tipping the chair over, and stomped out of the room. Kuro and Hisoka's mother immediately raced to the fallen Hisoka's side.

"I'm fine," Hisoka grunted, getting unsteadily to her feet and raising a hand to wipe away the trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. She batted away her mother's comforting hands and headed to the doorway.

"Thanks for the help, mom," she said sarcastically, and disappeared down the hallway towards her room. Her mother knelt in the middle of the room, dropped her head into her hands, and began to sob uncontrollably.

Not knowing quite what to do, Kuro resolutely patted his mother on the back.

Hisoka brought her hand down hard on the table. She wasn't quite thinking when she did this, and when the table was reduced to splinters under her hand, she didn't much care. Her eyes blazed with fury, and she shook with rage. She had to do something, she knew, but what could she do? She was just a child.

Hisoka raised her hand again and paused in thought as thin trickles of blood made their way down her arm. She sighed and used her other hand to begin plucking out the sharp pieces of wood imbedded in her palm.

Every day it was the same. Her father didn't know what she had accomplished on her own, without any help from the stupid Shinobi Academy. Then again, she knew that if she told him and he became proud of her, her dad would find the need to vent his anger on someone else – such as her younger brother. As an older sister, Hisoka couldn't let that happen.

Besides, at least to outsiders it just looked like she had gotten into a fight, which was quite believable due to her 'pleasant' personality. No, it was better to let him be proud of his son and not his fake daughter. It made more sense than Hisoka cared to think about. Out of all the times she had ever done something to displease him, her father felt it was right because she was being ungrateful. After all, they took her in, fed her, and clothed her… but who was keeping track?

Hisoka looked up at the window as a daring thought came over her. Daring thoughts were common these days, especially for someone as emotionally unbalanced as Hisoka. She glanced to the other side of the room and went to collect her ninja tools, paying no mind to her mangled hand. It didn't bother her much. She had a high threshold for pain.

She grasped the handle of the bag that contained her shuriken, summoning scrolls, and a number of various items that she technically wasn't supposed to have, but what else would a delinquent spend her measly allowance on?

She'd practice alone for a while. School was out, anyway, but she had her own special secret training place that nobody else knew about. She could train there, away from prying eyes, and perfect her Jutsu style. She was much smarter than anyone gave her credit for. She couldn't pull off a decent Genjutsu to save her life, and Ninjutsu was hard to master, but Taijutsu was surprisingly easy for someone as small as her. All she needed to do was let go and vent her anger. Ha, and Iruka-sensei wondered how she knocked out a Chunin!

Hisoka hopped nimbly up onto the windowsill, her bag swinging in her good hand as her injured hand clutched the windowpane for balance. Blood trickled down the pane, but Hisoka ignored it and instead hopped out into the street below.

There was a moment in which the kunai knife seemed to hover as it left Hisoka's hand and slammed into the target, sending up splinters of wood.

"That one's for my brother," she snarled. Sweat poured down her face as she tossed another one to join the cluster of knives around the target's bulls-eye. She brought another and another, until finally the circle just popped out of the rest of the target neatly and fell backwards onto the grass. Hisoka was breathing hard.

"Leave him alone," she spat, envisioning her father in the center of the target peppered with kunai knives instead of just wood. She wiped her hand along her forehead and stopped when her hand began to sting. She looked down at her hand, blood still leaking sluggishly from the ragged tear across her hand. She folded it, paying no mind to the pain, and brought her hand to her heart, her eyes flashing with determination.

He won't get Kuro, she thought venomously. Even if he kills me, I'm not letting him start on Kuro.

"Damn you!" She shrieked, her eyes wild, and she yanked out another knife with her injured hand. Red blood merged with the steel gray of the knife's hilt as she raced towards the target, intent on simply tearing something apart. She didn't care what she ruined; she just wanted to hurt something.

Her hand was suddenly halted smoothly and not unpleasantly in mid-air, and Hisoka prepared to wrench her hand away from whatever it was that met her wrist, until she saw what it was. A wall of sand stretched up, cradling her hand in the air. Growling, Hisoka whipped around to see who had stopped her harmless training. This place was supposed to be secret!

"You seem angry," the cool coppery-haired boy remarked, his arms folded, his face emotionless. Hisoka's own face melted into an emotionless façade.

"No," she said, yanking her arm away as the sand fell back to the ground. It raced along the ground like a snake to climb up the boy's leg and funnel into the huge sandy-colored gourd on his back.

"You'll hurt yourself," the boy said reproachfully, nodding down at Hisoka's hand.

"I'm completely calm," Hisoka snarled.

"You don't look it," the boy said, frowning slightly. "You seem rather feisty for a child, don't you?"

"What did you say?" Hisoka's eyes hardened, her hand clenching the kunai knife harder. Her teeth ground together. "Are you looking for a fight?" Hisoka demanded. "This is a good time for me."

"How old are you? Where are your parents?" The boy continued.

"Which set?" Hisoka retorted.

"Is it possible to have more than one father and one mother?" The boy asked curiously, frowning slightly. "I did not think it was…"

"Yeah, when you've got one dead one and one murderous one," Hisoka said with a snort. "I'm not a child, you brat. I'm fourteen, and I've almost graduated the Ninja Academy. Soon I'll become a Genin."

"Isn't fourteen a little old to have not yet graduated?" The boy continued.

"I don't like you," Hisoka said. "You look dishonest and heartless. I don't think you could care about someone if you tried. I see that hitai-ate on your gourd; you must be from the Village Hidden in Sand. I don't know who invited you, but the party's over. Goodbye."

Hisoka collected her back and yanked kunai knives by the handful from her target, then turned to go.

"What is your name?" The boy asked.

"Hisoka," Hisoka replied. "But it's Mizutani-san to you."

"You have the same eyes," the boy murmured as Hisoka disappeared.