The wagon was uncomfortable. Sakura would much rather ride on the backs of one of the stout mares pulling it. They looked like good, healthy mares, too. If anything, being the daughter of the most successful horse merchants in Kirigakure gave her knowledge with the animals.

Right now, however, she was stuck being jolted and bucked around, her head occasionally knocking painfully into the splintery roof. The cushions beneath her didn't do much for her comfort. This route, according to Mama, was the sole link between two very popular trading posts.

So why was it so miserable to travel on? Surely people would've seen it fit to upkeep the path.

The five year old sighed. Good thing they were switching over to camels once they reached the desert. Mama had said so, and she would never lie when it comes to Sakura's questions. Sakura had only seen the strange animals once, a long time ago, when they had to meet up with their Sunagakure relatives at Suna's border. She hoped the cute creatures were like how she remembered them. She smiled slightly. Sunagakure shouldn't be so bad if there were camels there.

The thought of Suna brought her back to reality. Mama and Papa have wanted to get out of the Wave for as long as she could remember. Konohagakure had been their initial choice, since its weather was milder than Suna's and it was relatively closer. But it seemed that many refugees from the Wave thought the same, too. The path between the Wave and Hi no Kuni was now one of the most dangerous roads to travel on thanks to it being filled with the Mizukage's patrols, all of them intent of capturing any refugees. Besides, Papa's mother was in Sunagakure, and even though her father and grandmother haven't been on speaking terms in years, it was still better than nothing. So Suna it was.

And Sakura knew why her parents were so eager to leave. It wasn't so hard, piecing things together. The Fourth Mizukage had begun purging all the clans with any working kekkei genkai since sometime during her birth. It had started with only a few minor changes. And then things just kept escalating, until their monster of a leader just outright executed tens and hundreds of people in public settings, forcing everyone within the vicinity of one of these massacres to attend. Those who did not were given the free opportunity to become the star of the next mass execution.

Sakura had only been to only two of those massacres, and the cries and screams of the children present still haunted her dreams today. She shuddered. Mizukage-sama was certainly a very creative man when it came to killing. There had been so much blood, so much blood, leaking down the cracked pavement already wet from rain until it soaked her shoes into that crimson color she hated so much now. The shudders turned into trembles, and Sakura found herself unable to stop her fear-induced spasms.


Mama Haruno noticed this. It wasn't the first time that Sakura fell into one of these shaking spells. Really, there were better things for four year olds to do than to watch people being tortured in the most inhumane ways possible. The woman herself still had macabre thoughts running through her head time to time from watching those "executions". Her expression darkened at the mere notion of them. She pulled her trembling daughter close, and wrapped her arms reassuringly around the child. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her husband throwing a worried glance in their direction.

She silently cursed the Fourth. It was bad enough that her once prosperous business consisting of hundreds of mares and sires had dwindled to a couple of horses over the course of just a few years, deteriorating along with the Haruno's influence. It was even more unforgivable that Sakura was exposed to something so terrible at such a young age. But the man just had to go overboard and give her child a seemingly incurable phobia of the color red.

The fear itself wasn't that bad- but that was the problem. It was the memories triggered by seeing the color that did the damage.

There were so many incidents where it interfered with her child's everyday life. She couldn't eat red meats because of her strange phobia, unless she was spared from seeing her food before it was prepared. She would freak out whenever she received the tiniest of wounds, and it was even worse when it happened to other people. It didn't help that her husband's hair color was a vibrant shade red, and Sakura would freeze every time her gaze wandered upwards from her father's smiles.

Because of that, she was actually dreading the moment Sakura was reunited with her cousin. If the family photos her husband had shown her were accurate, than she would probably faint the moment she laid eyes on his hair.

Curse the Fourth. Curse him to the deepest pits of hell.

After a few minutes, Sakura had managed to divert her mind away from the unholy color, with the help of her mother and Inner Sakura. Inner was always there to help, no matter how annoying she is sometimes.

Hey, it's not my fault that your mom thinks I'm your imaginary friend.

Sakura giggled softly at the comment, and wriggled playfully out of her mother's grasp. Then, she reached down and rummaged through the little bag lying next to her feet, pulling out a tiny leather-bound book. A tutor had taught her how to read and write as soon as she began speaking. Contrary to popular practices which favored boys over their female counterparts, Mama firmly believed that girls had the full right to being literate. Sakura had spent hours and hours during the past year with her hired tutor writing kanji and forming her own phrases.

Though it had cost them a fortune to find the tutor, Mama Haruno firmly believed that it was worth it. Her daughter was quite a voracious reader, interested by anything recorded on paper, be it shipping records or fairy tales.

She had a feeling that the ridiculous amount of information her daughter was absorbing would save her life some day.

A shrill scream that eerily resembled their driver's voice pierced their rather silent journey, followed by two alarmed neighs that belonged to the mares. The book in Sakura's hands was dropped in alarm, and it fell silently onto the bottom of the cabriolet as all members of the Haruno family froze. Before anyone could react, the wagon tilted haphazardly to the side and Sakura slid into the wooden wall. It teetered for a few seconds as if mocking them, sending Sakura's heart rate off the charts, before abruptly regaining balance. Then, it fell to an ominous halt. A sound that sickeningly resembled the squelch of a blades being thrust into flesh sounded, and the driver screamed once more before he was cut off by a slice of the same blade.

Those noises were familiar to Sakura. It was like the time when a little girl, no older than eight and still dressed in her nightgown, was gagged with a rag and stabbed repeatedly for half an hour until her blood stained the post she was tied to a bloody red. By that time, her eyes had also been gouged out.

A fresh wave of nausea hit her, and Sakura clutched at her stomach to hold in the contents of her breakfast. Her breathing was irregular now, and she spared one of her hands to cover her mouth so that whatever had attacked them wouldn't hear her.

Without warning, a fist appeared beside her, and it took a moment for her brain to acknowledge that the wagon door had been punched in. Splinters of wood surrounded the fist like a demented halo, and without warning, the hand grabbed on to the handle of the door and pulled it off.

It revealed an enormous man, hovering around six feet, grinning maniacally to reveal his pointed teeth. Her eyes widened when she noticed that his skin was blue, as in literally blue, and that there were three symmetrical lines none too different from gills lining the skin below his large cheekbones. A bandaged sword was strapped to his back, its hilt peeking above his slicked blue hair, the spikes held back by a slashed Kirigakure forehead protector.

Mama began shaking next to her, and the color drained from Papa's face.

"Ooh, what a treasure I've found." The man began, his deep baritone sending tremors through her ribcage as he effortlessly tossed the piece of wood that was once their wagon door aside. "I'd thought you were just some spoiled group of mercenaries from Kiri, but if my information is right, you people are part of the Haruno clan, horse traders."

The man laughed, a sound that was surprisingly light for someone his stature. It was almost as they were old friends, talking together over tea, rather than him scaring the crap out of them.

"What unusual hair." Sakura blinked, suddenly realizing that the man had a lock of her hair in between his blue fingers. He was tentatively stroking the soft strands with a blue thumb that was the size of her wrist. For some reason, she didn't feel the least intimated by this action. She'd never met someone that was blue- and in her opinion, red was the opposite of blue. Maybe that was why she felt so relaxed by his presence.

Her parents, however, were still freaking out. "Hoshigake Kisame," Mama whispered.

The man lifted his gaze from her and turned towards Mama, not letting go of her hair. "Oh? It seems that I am quite famous." The man grinned at her, and then turned back to Sakura and cupped her chin with one hand. "Tell me, little girl. Have you heard of me?"

Sakura wasn't sure what to say. She was sure she'd read about him somewhere before, but it seemed that her photographic memory wasn't working right now. Was it something about swordsmen…?

Ah, that was it.

"You…you are one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, right?" Yes, she was sure now. There were three paragraphs that included a short biography for all of the current famous swordsmen in one of the books she'd snagged from their library back in Kiri.

The man ruffled her hair. "Ah, yes. What a good kid." He sounded satisfied.

There was a blur of red and brown and pale hand grasped the huge blue wrist, barely managing to circle half of the enormous width. Her hair fell back down to its place, fringing her neck. Sakura blinked, and suddenly she was looking straight into the messy red locks of her father.

"What. Do. You. Want." The words were each forced out like a rather unpleasant sip of bitter tea, and Sakura found herself unable to believe that Papa, the calmest, most relaxed person she knew,had said that.

And why was his other hand held out flat, surrounded by that weird green glowing light that formed a sharp point at the tips of his fingers?

"Pa..pa?" She managed to say, while curling into herself, withdrawing from the scary color of her Papa's hair.

The man, Kisame apparently, was smirking. "Chakra scalpels, eh? Excellent chakra control…just like your mother."

Chiyo-baa-sama?

"I asked you a question," The threat in his voice was gone now, but Sakura could still detect a hint of anger beneath her father's voice. She shuddered, remembering the time she'd broken one of their most expensive vases. "And I expect an answer."

The grin on Kisame's face darkened. "For the bounty on your head, of course. I need some cash right now."

Sakura felt her blood churn to ice and prick at her veins. Bounties were only placed on the scariest criminals and powerful members of the shinobi societies, people like missing-nins and kages. And when Kisame continued, the feeling of betrayal and doom became stifling.

"Forty thousand ryo pays better than most A-ranked missions back in the Wave."

Forty thousand ryo? Sakura almost blanched. Who was Papa?

Said man responded by cocking his head slightly to the side, and then sending his unoccupied hand flying into the blue man's chest with the appendage curled into a fist. Kisame was sent skidding backwards meters away, kneeling to stop himself. Papa raced out of the carriage right after him, doing a flip in midair to land sideways to face his opponent. Kisame's pose dissolved into a crouch, slowing him down.

The smile never left Kisame's face, even as he stood ramrod straight once more and with one swift motion, the huge bandaged blade strapped to his back was gripped in his hand. Fluidly, he appeared before Papa and slashed at him.

Right before the blade touched him, though, Papa flipped backwards, successfully evading the first attack.

And thus the fight began.


As the last masked ninja from Suna fell dead from the sword wound that sliced his torso open like a skinned animal, Sasori paused to let himself catch his breath. He watched as the unknown body crumpled with a dull thud onto the ground, its fall cushioned by another two barely recognizable corpses below it.

The desert sunset and the desolate howling winds only added to the eerie, if not downright creepy effect that the field of over a hundred bodies had.

Panting, Sasori stepped away, only to step on a detached limb. Reacting fast and kicking the appendage away, he sealed his puppet into a large scroll and placed it inside the numerous folds of his robe. The metallic stench of blood in the air, magnified by the shimmering desert heat, was almost overwhelming- but then again, he has been through worse.

Today had been glorious. Today, he had finally shed the chains that were attached to him as a ninja of Sunagakure. Today, he had shed the blood of his comrades. Lots of it. He wouldn't be surprised if they called him Sasori no Akasuna from now on.

Wiping the blood on his away with his already filthy sleeve, the puppeteer smiled, his teeth glittering in the setting sun.

It was time to head out—he had a few plans to carry out before he joined the Akatsuki, after all.

With one last look at the bloody chaos before him, the ex-Suna nin walked away from the mess.


"No..." Sakura whispered, still unable to process the scene unfolding in front of her. There was too much blood, and the two bodies looked too much like her parents for her liking. She had abandoned the seat in the wagon a long time ago, pushed out from the undamaged door by her mother a second before Kisame reached in and grabbed the older woman.

"Run, Sakura!" her mother had shouted, even as she struggled in the missing-nin's grasp. Sakura had landed roughly on the Katon jutsu-charred road, scraping her knees and arms, slightly confused.

But it was a good thing that Mama Haruno had the common sense to do that. Because a second later, Mama Haruno let out a strangled, shrill scream. Sakura shuddered and flinched away from the sound, but her morbid curiosity won over her raw instincts. A moment later, her mind was made up and she crawled out from the other side of the wagon into the battlegrounds. She was just in time to witness Kisame grab her mother by the neck and rip her head off, blood showering everywhere.

"No," she whispered again. Kisame tossed her mother's body to the side as if it were a sack of potatoes. The corpse landed with a sickening thud, the blood still gushing out of her neck. Ignoring the disgusting color and the terrible man, Sakura got to her feet and ran, stumbling like a drunk towards the body.

"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!" Sakura screeched, using the logic that every child possesses in her sentence; if you deny it enough, it might not actually be happening. That wasn't the case in this situation.

She grasped the bloody hand of her mother and her it close to her chest, bawling in the process. In between sobs, she could get a clear view of her decapitated father, pinned to a nearby tree by an array of kunais. Parts of his intestines hung out from the large gash across his stomach. She could see bits of his kidneys, speared through by his skewed ribs.

She had already thrown up four times from watching the fight. By now, blood had lost its nauseating effect on her. There was no point in getting worked up from a sight that has become so familiar in the span of three hours.

A bittersweet mix of emotions churned in her at the sight of her father, some of which she didn't even understand. During the three hours of the painful battle, she had come to three realizations—her father was a shinobi, a powerful shinobi, and he had been hiding that fact from her for her entire life.

She was drawn out of her turmoil by a hand, grabbing her by the back of her shirt, snot and tears and all. It lifted her up and turned her around, forcing her to come face to face with the blue man. They stared at each other for awhile, Kisame panting and Sakura in bouts of hiccups.

Suddenly, the other large blue hand, stinking of blood and sweat, came up and toweled her entire face. It wiped away everything, leaving behind only flakes of dried blood.

"Kid," the blue man addressed, almost apologetically.

"It's Haruno-san for you," Sakura growled, the effect lost in her high pitched, childish voice.

The man laughed. It was a rougher and less amiable than before. "You should be glad I like you, squirt. Or else you would've joined your parents by now."

"Glad?" Sakura gasped disbelievingly, a burst of fury coursing through her. How dare this man? "You killed Papa and Mama! I hate you!" With the last exclamation, she pounded a tiny fist at the ninja's nose. In return, she received a numb feeling at the side of her hand. Frustrated, she started thrashing, swinging helplessly from Kisame's arm.

His eyes narrowed. "Child…" he growled. Sakura immediately stopped, but it wasn't because of the tone of the S-class ninja's voice. She had just seen a sliver of hope.

A few feet behind them, she spotted a redhead with an uncanny resemblance to her father. He looked at her blankly, but she ignored those details in favor of a possible rescue.

"Sa…sasori…" she murmured. Sasori's eyes widened. The hood of his purple robe was pulled back, giving a glimpse of his head. She had only seen pictures of her cousin, but she would recognize those lidded eyes and ruffled red hair anywhere. She can only pray that her cousin recognized her as well- perhaps granny Chiyo had a few pictures of her lying around somewhere in Suna?

Kisame whipped around, causing Sakura to swing precariously.

"Another Haruno?" Kisame mused aloud. He turned to examine her, and then to Sasori, and then back to Sakura.

Sasori's face was blank as he emerged from the trees, jumping down and landing in front of them.

"Hoshigake-san," he addressed. Sakura felt her insides grow cold….did her cousin know him?


"Ah, Sasori-san." Kisame had heard the child say the redhead's name earlier, and assumed that they were related. It was possible. When Leader had given him the mission to meet up with the newest addition to their organization, he never mentioned any family.

In fact, Pain didn't say much besides that the newest addition to their organization was a skilled puppeteer, a recent missing-nin from Sunagakure, and that Kisame could pick up a few bounties on the way if he felt like it. An evil organization couldn't just run off of charity from old ladies, after all. He really had nothing against the Haruno couple. They were just easy game, and sharks tend to chase after ptry that were weaker than they were.

But he did feel somewhat bad for the child, missing-nin or not. It was a little cruel to butcher her parents in front of her.

Sasori didn't seem too satisfied either. "Well, don't just stand there. Do you mind telling me what you are doing with the last relatives I have?" The puppeteer narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed.

Very impatient, Kisame noted. So far, this man was passing the Akasuna no Sasori test. Though tactics and deduction weren't his forte, Kisame had the common sense to at least do some research on the man that gave him a little more than the bare minimum Pain expected him to operate on. He smirked. Now, all he had to make sure was that Sasori had the violence and skill to back up his recently acquired title.

"So little Sakura-chan over here is your cousin?" he asked, obviously avoiding the hidden threat that the redhead gave him. If it were anyone else, Samehada would already be drawn. He wanted to toy with this one a little more.

By now, Sasori was more than a little ticked off. "Yes, she is." Pride was at stake here; if you weren't strong enough to protect even a little girl, you didn't deserve the title of an S-class missing nin. "And I cannot let you hurt a Haruno."

With speed that was unexpected from one that relied on ninja tools to fight, Sasori was a mere blur as he closed off the distance between them. Kisame, the combat specialist of the two, was experienced enough to predict that movement. He jumped back just in time to raise an arm defensively and avoid a slash at his stomach from a long dagger. But Sasori had already circled his arm around the little girl's stomach and tugged her away. The girl let out a little gasp as the puppeteer tore her from Kisame's grasp and took an enormous leap backwards. At the same time, Kisame landed heavily on the ground.

Sasori was glaring at him, and he reached his other hand into the inner fold of his cloak to pull out a scroll. Kisame noticed Sakura staring wide-eyed at the impossible nimbleness of Sasori's fingers as they trembled, unrolling a scroll with one hand faster than any normal person could with two hands.

Before Sasori could unseal any puppets, though, Kisame held up a hand.

"I concede, puppet master." He had already confirmed that the Sasori was the real deal.

Sasori paused, his eyes scanning over him suspiciously. People like the Tailless Bijuu didn't just give up a moment before the fight. "Why?"

"Now that I know you're not an imposter, I can carry on." Kisame shrugged. He crossed his arms in front of him and relaxed his posture. "I suppose you know of the Akatsuki, Sasori-san?" Not waiting for an answer, he continued. "Yes, we've been expecting you. Yesterday, Pain received the message your spy had sent us. I was sent out to retrieve you."

"Ah," Sasori nodded. His hand flickered and the scroll was gone. Then, he looked at Kisame expectantly, as if telling him to start leading the way to the Akatsuki base now.

"Not so fast, Akasuna. What are you going to do with the child?"