A/N This fic is being written for FanNoWriMo. So yes, this will be a chapterfic, updated hopefully steadily through July. It's not being edited very much right now, I promise to go back and fix everything in August. So, warnings, uh, this will contain both het and yaoi pairings, wierd ones, because I like wierd pairings. Also this will most likely get ridiculously violent as it progresses. In the meantime, it's pretty safe, so uh, enjoy the intro, I hope? Also, I promise the whole thing won't be in this same wierd style. But it'll crop up from time to time.
Their clothes were ragged and there were holes in their shoes when they came in sight of the village gates. They came hollow cheeked and bone thin, with dirt in their hair. And Fleas. And they spoke no language that the guards understood. They came shambling and weary eyed into the shadow of the leaf village, four of them and a baby in a frightened, hope filled group. Under the grey cloaked dawn they came into the village exactly as they had left their own, an ocean away.
Few villagers walked the streets at those small hours but the guards, one who led the travelers wordlessly, one who ran ahead to the main administrative building . Those other shinobi and civilians already awake took little notice of the group. They had all seen refugees before. When they arrived the Hokage was waiting for them. They were led down long hallways to her office, where she was seated pensive at her desk with her fingers threaded and her chin resting atop them and her sake bottle for once left to the side, and there was food laid out for them when they arrived. No one spoke. But the travelers fell to the cold rice and dried meats when long minutes of silence and weeks of hunger had convinced them that there was no trap. The Hokage watched, and gestured to her assistant. As the medi-nin left the room, the baby began to cry. Wailing a sound thin and grey as the dawn that made to follow her to the street, but ended at the door. Autumn had settled over the village. The sun was weary, and red leaves danced down the near deserted walkways and between buildings. Shizunes didn't run. This was not the first group of refugees to make it to their gates, and would not the last. Survivors had shown up with increasing frequency over the last several years. Her feet took her to the far side of town, past the hospital, and Ichiraku ramen, to where the buildings started to stoop, and clotheslines hung in the narrow space between houses.
The sun was nearly full in the sky and slanting coldly through the window behind the Hokages desk when she returned. The sake bottle back in its familiar place, and half empty. She did not return alone. Two men and their wives watched with anxious eyes the young shinobi that followed at her heels. The baby was asleep. For a while, they were left to themselves save for the Hokage, who said nothing, and the newcomer, a fresh Jounin with too much eyebrow and more concern. He spoke to them in their language. He told them that his name was Lee, that he knew the country they had come from and the ocean they had crossed, and he asked them why they had crossed it. And they told him. And later he would tell the Hokage what had been said. To tell their story left the travelers exhausted and heart sick. But it was with a sort of desperate relief they made their plea. They waited still and silent huddled together while he related all they had said to Tsunade. She looked sick, and worried, and then she looked calm. She took one last drought from her cup, and let it set with a chink on the desk. She thanked them, and promised sanctuary. The young Jounin translated. There was a tap at the closed door and more Jounin appeared. She nodded to them, and to the translator, and he bowed himself out the door, and if anyone noticed her hand touch his shoulder as they passed each other they either thought, or said nothing of it. Later, he would return to the travelers with more questions, which they would not want to answer, but would anyway. For now, they were escorted to the hospital, and given beds to sleep in, clean clothes and a place to bathe. There was a bottle with formula for the baby, and a blanket, sky blue and full of fuzz. The travelers were to full of fatigue and relief to be grateful, or even overwhelmed. Two went to their baths and tier beds without a word. The others straight to their beds. Sakura took the baby, once it's mother was asleep. It was sickly, and needed to be examined.
By evening, four runners had been sent barreling from the gates with scrolls sealed in wax and chakra and stamped with the Konoha emblem. Shizune sat in silence with her teacher, her watched them from the window in her office. She didn't ask where they were going or why. As the sun sank and turned red, Lee sat alone in the woods, back against a well worn practice dummy, and didn't train. He was thinking about fleas, and tattered clothes, and the baby. He itched sympathetically, pulling an imaginary insect from his hair.