Reputation

A bad reputation doesn't make you a bad person.

Huzzah! Random crazy (not crack) DeiSaso-ness! Be happy, precious readers. +w+

Warning: OOCness, messed up ages, Sasori acting drunk, literal character bashing, stupidity, and other crap lie ahead. -smiles dementedly-

All characters are property of Masashi Kishimoto and his awesomeness.

Sasori grasped his small shoulders in a futile attempt to keep out the cold. He bit his bottom lip unconsciously as the shivering grew. His eyes stung and he blinked furiously, pulling the collar of his thin shirt tightly around himself.

He had all but given up when a figure emerged from the monstrous snowstorm. He was so hungry and weary and lonesome by then that he didn't care if it was friend or foe. After all, he was only a child. He let out a pleading whimper before falling face-first into the frozen white cushion and laying there.

After a moment, he felt a pair of strong, slender arms wrap around him and pull him up. By then he was beginning to lose consciousness, but he did pick out a soft, reasurring voice, and one beautiful blue eye.

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Nine years later, he continued life as an average high school student with no family and a broken spirit. Very common where he lived.

The erdhead was always cold, no matter the season. And no amount of clothing or warm tea could raise his frigid temperature. Yet he never wore anything more than a hoodie or light jacket, claiming it'd do no good.

He gave a rough sigh as he hoisted his book-filled backpack onto a sore shoulder. Wincing slightly, he headed off to his next class to finish the boring day with little trauma.

Hopefully.

Sasuke's gang was always messing with him, and the females in the class found him "weird", for some reason. Not that he cared. There had only ever been one creature of interest to him since his parents' deaths; his rescuer.

He doubted his blue-eyed savior would attend his school, due to the fact that nine years ago they were old nough and strong enough to carry a young boy to safety during a snowstorm. But it could happen.

An though he often teased himself with the idea of a beautiful woman, aforementioned savior was probably male. Even his young, untained ears could tell at the time.

He always tried to imagine what his guardian was really like, having gotten everywhere from a muscular fool (not likely) to a frail beauty. He hadn't settled on any one just yet.

But at that momet he had an algebra test. Yay algebra.