I gaze down at the bloodied, unconscious man in disgust.

Konoha ninja.

His hair is a startling gray, but he looks young. I push down the mask that hides most of his face, and I'm somewhat surprised to see an attractive face and a strong jawline. There's a scar that runs from his left eyebrow to his cheek. I wonder briefly if he is blind in that one eye.

It's quite strange – he's covered in blood and has obviously suffered through a battle, and yet there's little sign of disturbance in the forest. There's no scuffle, no broken branches …

I should kill him, right here and right now. Forget about conscience, and forget about mercy. Forget about a chance for redemption.

I press the edge of the kunai to his throat where I can see a pulse flutter weakly. My hand shakes.

I sigh, and put the kunai away. I can't do it. It's not something I could do.

And I'm not able to watch him be killed by my friends either, so I remove his forehead protector gently and toss it into the woods. It'll be suspicious, but hopefully it won't be linked to the ninja now in my arms.

I grunt as I lift him – he's heavy. I shift his unmoving body over my back and sling his arms around my neck. His head rolls to rest against mine, and I don't push him away, even though a rivulet of blood tickles my cheek. I'd seen enough blood that I wasn't bothered by it anymore.

His weight is painful, but it's not impossible to get him back to the village. It will take me about twenty minutes, I estimate – twenty minutes to feel like the worst traitor in history.

When I'm about halfway there, the man stirs.

"Who … who are you?" he croaks. "Where am I?"

"Shut up," I snarl, looking straight ahead. "If anyone asks, you're from the Country of Lightening, got it?"

He doesn't reply, and I realize that he's fallen unconscious again. I hope he heard me.

"Kentaro!" I shout. "Let me in!"

"What the hell, Mirai? Who is that?" the gateman exclaims, but he doesn't move to open the gate.

"Let me in or I'll tell everyone about you and Tsubasa!"

He glares at me, knowing I have leverage over him there, but I'm too exhausted to feel anything but relief when he opens the gate.

He takes the man from me, still glaring as I stretch out painfully.

"We're going to my house," I say imperatively.

"Who is he?"

"A guy I found out in the forest."

"And you just brought him back?" He's incredulous.

"What would you have me do? Leave him to die? Though," I say uncomfortably, "he seems pretty damn close to it anyways."

"Do you even know anything about him? What if he's a spy?"

"Come on, Kentaro," I say, laughing despite a twinge of discomfort in my belly, "nobody knows we even survived. How would they know where to come to find us?"

"You realize I'm going to have to tell Keiji about this, right?"

I glance at him. "I don't care if you tell him," I lie, "but don't go seeking him out."

Kentaro's expression doesn't look promising.

"You know what I can tell Keiji," I threaten. "He wouldn't be pleased to know that you seduced his youngest daughter …"

"Shut up!" he says, glancing around to see if anybody heard.

We reach my house.

"Kentaro, stop worrying," I say, feeling a sudden wave of pity for my brother-in-law. My father still didn't know they'd gotten married. "I'll take full responsibility for anything ill that happens because of him. And if he's a rogue or an enemy, I'll take care of it." At least, I hope I will. "I think I can hold down a guy who looks like he's on the brink of death."

Kentaro doesn't look completely convinced, but he dumps the guy on my bed. I wince – I'd meant to remove the sheets first. He leaves without saying goodbye.

I shake my head. He'll get over it. We usually get along pretty well, but Kentaro can be much more ruthless than I am sometimes. But he really does love my sister, and it was really she who seduced him, rather than the other way around.

Hopefully, the man will be healed in a few days, before my father returns.

Now that the man is in relative safety, a new problem arises. I've been trained a little in healing, but not enough to heal serious wounds. How will I be able to heal him?

I try to slip off the green vest he wears on the outside as gently as possible, but I have to lift him a bit. I don't know whether to be thankful or not that he's unconscious. Then I remove the long-sleeved, dark blue sweater he has, and I gasp.

A huge patch of raw, burnt skin is visible across the left side of his abdomen and chest. And there's a deep gash on his right shoulder, still bleeding.

The bloody wound will have to be my priority now. I can't tell if he's sustained internal damage, but he probably has, judging by the weak state he's in.

I mold chakra in the palms of my hands and place them over the wound. Hooking my ankle around the leg of a stool, I bring it closer so I can sit, without removing my hands from him.

I can feel it when the bleeding ceases. It takes about fifteen minutes, and about half my chakra. I continue for another five minutes, making sure the wound won't open up very easily unless he moves, and then I go to find the salve I used to use for victims of burns. I hope I still have some left. I'll put the salve on after cleaning him up a little bit. The medicine cabinet is in the kitchen, which is a room separate from the bedroom. I'm fumbling around in the cabinet when I hear sense movement from behind me.

I whirl around to see the man standing at the doorway, leaning heavily on the door frame.

"What are you doing?" I yelp, nearly dropping the bottle I hold him my hand. Panicked, I run toward him and notice that the wound has opened up again. A tremor of fear courses through my body as I near him, but I swallow my fear and help him back into bed.

Suddenly I notice that his left eye, the one with the scar, is different from his right. It must be a kekkei genkai, one that would surely identify him as a dangerous ninja. I'll have to get him to keep the mask on if I ever leave the house, because if anyone see that they'll realize he's a danger and attempt to kill him.

"Where am I?" he mutters, wincing in pain as I begin healing his shoulder wound again. I don't answer right away, and suddenly his hand grabs my left wrist. Just as quickly, I draw a kunai and press it to his throat. His eyes widen.

"I'm trying to help you," I hiss. "Don't make this difficult."

His grip on my wrist loosens, and he winces again in pain.

I sigh and slide the kunai back into the little pocket against my thigh. "You're in the refugee camp of the survivors of the Land of the Sky."