This project is launched to a) test my writing skill, b) prove to you that not all Naruto OC's are trash, and c) to prove to myself that not all Naruto OC's are trash.

Enjoy.

The Nameless

Prologue

BOOM!

The response was immediate. "Eek!" the girl from across the room squeaked loudly before launching toward him, hands outstretched. She latched tightly onto his waist before he could so much as lift the scroll he was reading further away from her and hung on stubbornly, burying her face in his shirt and refusing to let go.

He rolled his eyes; he was too used to this by now to be upset. "It's just thunder, Moki," he chastised softly, trying to ease his hold around him to no avail. Of course not. He should've learned it by now. Nobody could get her off them unless she wanted to. "There's nothing to be afraid of. We are safe in here. Sounds can't kill you."

"Liar," came the muffled reply. "What about the Sound-nins?"

"There are no Sound-nins here, Moki. Just you and I." He tried one more time, then gave up and just let her do what she wanted. She couldn't hang on forever, right? "Sit up, little princess. It won't do for someone as fair and proud as you to be caught hanging onto another's shirt just because of a bit of thunder, right?" he teased.

The silver-haired girl took the bait. Sniffling, she sat up and let go, kneeling on the bed next to him. "But it's scary," she griped, wiping her face on her shirt's sleeve. "It's like…it's trying to eat me."

Her only companion glanced outside, watching lightning cut through the heaven once more. The "little princess" shrieked again and clapped her hands over her ears before an earth-shattering bout of thunder came about once more. This time, even he winced. Due to the need of keeping his image, however, he tried to pretend that never happened and put a comforting hand on his companion's head.

"It's all right," he soothed. "I'm here. Nothing is going to hurt you, little princess. I promise."

"Really?" she asked in a tiny voice, bright violet eyes staring at him through two small slits of eyelids. When he nodded and grinned, she cautiously removed her hands from her ears and smiled hesitantly at him. After a bit, the tentative smile became a brighter one. "Tell me a story," she chirped.

He laughed lightly. "Okay then, little princess. Say, have you ever heard of the legend of the Sannin? All three of them? Well, here's how it goes…"

0o0o0o0o0

"Ageru-niisan!"

He barely had time to stand up from tying his shoes when she came flying forward in a blur of silver and blue, tackling him. Her arms wrapped around his waist securely as she laughed aloud, sounding both devious and delighted at the same time.

"Thought you would've gotten away without me, didn't you?" she announced, sounding unbearably smug.

On his part, he simply grinned ruefully. "Nope," he answered, gently patting her back to get her to let go. It worked, and she stood back to watch him with eager violet eyes. "If you hadn't taken so long–"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "A proper lady must take care in readying herself before stepping outside," declared she, sounding both haughty and jesting at the same time.

"A proper lady doesn't stick her tongue out at people either," he remarked offhandedly, then laughed as she pouted at him. Pushing the door open, he gestured for her to come. "Let's go. I heard they just got a new weapons shop open. If we're lucky, I might be able to get some kunai and such, and then we can have dango or something."

Her face brightened instantly. "Ichiraku's ramen!" she cried, throwing her fists in the air.

He laughed again. "Fine. Ichiraku's ramen it is. Miso, as usual?"

"Totally." She snagged his hand with hers and started dragging him outside. "Let's go, let's go! I don't wanna be late or they'll run out of soup!"

"As if. I'm more worried about them running out of on-sale kunai and shuriken."

"Ageru-niisan!"

Another laugh. "Fine, fine, little princess. Lead the way."

Together, they stepped out into the early morning street.

0o0o0o0o0

He took aim carefully, narrowing his eyes and made a few mental calculations for a short moment, then let the kunai fly. It hit the bull's eye with a satisfying thud. Grinning, he stepped back and wiped his sweaty palms on his shorts, taking a short rest.

Behind him, someone clapped her hands loudly. "Good job!" Little Princess exclaimed. "You are the best, Ageru-niisan."

It made him smile. Not because of the compliment, but because she was complimenting him, and that she was happy. "Are you tired?" he asked, going to retrieve the kunai. "'Cause I might stay to practice more with the weapons for a bit more before heading home."

She thought about it for a bit, then nodded slowly. "Maybe I'll head back first," she said, hopping down from her perch on one of the tall wooden logs in the training area and dusting off her sky-blue kimono. "We shouldn't let Okaa-san get worried, and I'd promised to play with Kimoto and Haruka."

He was a little disappointed, but it passed quickly. After all, it was her choice. "I see." He returned the kunai to the brand new waist pouch he was wearing – he only got it on here, alone in the practice field with her, because he knew there were more than several people in the orphanage who would want it. "Can you tell Okaa-san that I will be back a bit late?"

"Of course." She skipped away, back to town, waving at him with a smile on her face. "Have fun, Ageru-niisan! I'll see you later."

"Same for you!" he called. "And don't get into trouble!"

Then he turned back to the target, refocusing himself on the task at hand. Something nagged at his gut, a warning that not everything was all right. She's a big girl now, he convinced himself. She can take care of herself, even if I'm not around.

Despite his best effort, the feeling never went away.

0o0o0o0o0

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked angrily, almost sobbing, as they raced through the street toward the Main Konoha Hospital. His feet ached – even he was tired after such a long sprint – but he ignored them. They weren't important. Their destination was.

The panting boy next to him gave him a half-glare. "It took forever to find you!" he retorted. "And I just got news." His voice faded in pitch, and he looked away. "I'm sorry."

He ignored the apology. He didn't have time to hear the kid out. There was something so much more important. He pushed himself to run faster. The street blurred on either side of him. People yelled out in surprise as the little shadow slipped between them, his steps never faltering. He didn't stumble. His subconscious automatically picked the way for him to go. He didn't even realize that he'd left his companion far behind.

This wouldn't have happened if I was with her, he reflected guiltily. He might not have made the cart divert its course, but he could have pulled her out of the way. He had always been faster than her.

Please, kami, let her live. If she does, I'll…I'll give up my life for her!

Please, let her live. Little princes…

0o0o0o0o0

The man in white gave him a look, then sighed and shook his head. His stomach seemed to have taken a plummet right through his feet and straight into the abyss. He couldn't breathe – his chest felt so, so tight, making sucking in air nigh impossible. He felt light-headed and sick, like he was having a fever or something.

"You are lying," he stated evenly, even though the doctor had said nothing.

Black eyes scrutinized him carefully from behind oval glasses, then the man sighed again. "Your friend did not make it," he said wearily. There was no faked compassion in his voice. He did not apologize either. In a way, that was good. What meaning would a flimsy sorry have here, in the face of this…this terrible tragedy?

"You are lying," he repeated, his voice sounding less sure now and shakier, like it was going to break at any moment. Behind him, a tearful woman in a black kimono placed a weathered hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off and pushed past the doctor and into the room beyond. Liars, he thought. All liars. She couldn't be dead! I've just seen her not two hours before.

There was only a single bed in the room. It seemed occupied – of course it was occupied; she was probably sleeping the incident off – with the white blanket pulled over the entire bed. He walked toward it, dazed and in trance. No, this wasn't happening. Lying. They were lying!

He approached the edge of the bed at last. With trembling hands, he pulled the blanket away.

Her white face stared back at him, slack and bruised from the cart that had run her over. Dead. Her eyes were closed, but he knew they wouldn't open again.

He stared at her for a long moment, then suddenly turned away and shot out of the room. As long as he was out, he started retching, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground before the doctor's feet. There was no shout of disgust or anger, however. Just really strong hands gripping his shoulders and voices shouting for help.

He blacked out.

0o0o0o0o0

The funeral was quiet. The sky was ridiculously sunny and pleasant that day, too, as though nature was mocking them, mocking him.

No, he thought. The little princess would have wanted it like this. And this is not about me. He gazed at the gravestone in silence. This is not about me at all.

He stayed there for a long time. The good weather allowed him to sit for at least five hours before someone was sent to find him. It was necessary and predictable, of course, but it was also annoying. Very annoying. He ended up snapping at the fetcher and stalked toward the orphanage house alone, quick to lose the other boy due to his better stamina and knowledge of the back alleys.

He entered his room through the window. It was quiet and messy and dark. He half expected for her to come bursting through the door any second now, crying "Ageru-niisan!" and latching onto him. But she never came. She would never come again.

Suddenly tired and heavy, he went to the small bed and dropped into it. He buried his face into the pillow and blocked out everything else.

Never in his life had he felt so powerless. And it scared the shit out of him.

Become stronger, he thought as his consciousness started to fade. Must…become…stronger…

For who? A little voice in his head asked maliciously.

A pause.

For me, his subconscious replied.

0o0o0o0o0

Okaa-san shifted slightly in her kneeling position, fixing him with worried dark eyes. "Are you sure, Ageru?" she asked. "After what happened…" She trailed off, realizing the pained and then dangerous look in his eyes. He did not like being reminded of what had happened.

He nodded curtly, once. His mind was already made up. If she wasn't going to agree, then he would take this matter straight to Hokage-sama and plead his case with him. He wasn't backing down. Not about this.

Silence settled between them for an indefinite amount of time. Finally, Okaa-san sighed and picked up the pen. She signed the paper before her stiffly, then handed it back to him. "I hope this is a path you can live with," she said seriously.

He had no answer to give her but another nod. Then he bowed low, letting his forehead touch the floor for a long second, before standing up and leaving the room.

When he was outside the door, he heard her sigh again. His stomach felt weird all of a sudden, but he ignored it. There were more important things to do. Such as getting prepared for the first day of Ninja Academy.

0o0o0o0o0

"All right," the scarred man said, standing before the large class and giving everyone a cursory look. "First of all, welcome to Konoha's Ninja Academy. I hope you will enjoy your stay here and improve. I hope you find what you are looking for."

At the back of the class, he smirked slightly. This guy sure was smarter – or more observant – than he was expected to be.

"Now, we will have a brief section of introduction. When it is your turn, stand up and give your name and why you are here. Don't worry, it'll be quick. Let's start with you, miss." He pointed at a brown-haired, mousy girl sitting on the left of the first row.

So the day went, with people generally too shy to look anywhere but straight ahead at the blackboard or at the table in front of them as they muttered out some random facts like "I like ice cream" (which was completely not the question asked) or something like that. A few, including a white-haired kid whose gender remained ominous and the Sandaime's grandson, said her/his reason while looking straight at the teacher. He admired these people.

When it was his turn, he stood up in silence. He studied the table in front of him for a moment, then lifted his eyes to Iruka-sensei's expectant ones.

A beat.

"My name is Tomai Ageru. I'm an orphan, and I came here because I want to become stronger." He could feel the blush creeping to his cheeks. Quickly, he focused on the image of her, and the blush came under control. For her. "For someone important to me."

Ignoring the corniness of his own statement, he sat down quickly and folded his arms on the table, then rested his chin on them. The blush came back, but not at ferocious. His face was only slightly warm as opposed to burning.

"That's great," Iruka-sensei said, smiling optimistically. "Now, I think everyone is here. So let's start the year. As you know, there are many types of jutsus…"