One by one, the children were found, by different people, different couples, nearly directly across the world from Konoha, from their parents. In a very different place, on the continent of North America, the country of America, state of New York, city, New York City.

Nibori Hyuga was found on the grounds of a very wealthy couple. They were rich in every way but one, they had no children, and the woman was not able to conceive any. So, they took the boy in, and wrapped him in a big puffy blanket, going through the small bundle they had found with him. The letter perplexed the wife, "I can't read any of this. It's all in either Japanese, or Chinese, I can't make head or tail of it."

The husband simply shrugged. "Parents were probably Japanese, left a note for him and all that. When he's older we can get him Japanese lessons. Then he can read it himself."

As Nibori grew up, he didn't make friends easily, people usually thought he was blind when they first met him, because of how pale his eyes were. Doctors couldn't explain it, they just said it was probably a gene that wasn't working properly, and that as long as his vision wasn't off, there was no need for concern.

Nibori was a fairly happy boy. Growing up, he could do most anything he wanted, so he took up a lot of hobbies. He learned several languages, including Japanese, and he learned fencing, boxing, and karate. He played soccer, football, basketball, and even baseball. He grew up like your typical rich kid, until high school, when he convinced his parents to let him go to a public school, so he could get a taste of the real world.

Sabako No Aiko didn't get such a good hand. She landed on the doorstep of a warehouse, cars that zoomed past barely missed her little form. Finally, the warehouse opened up, a gruff man standing there, frowning down at her. He sighed, grabbing her, and the little package next to her, bringing her in.

His girlfriend sat on a ratty old couch, frowning, "What's that?"

He rolled his eyes, "Baby, someone left it on our doorstep."

His girlfriend held out her arms, taking the baby from him. She cradled it, and the baby opened her eyes, cooing at her, babbling softly. Something inside her stirred, motherly affection. That's what made her look up at her boyfriend, and say, "We're keeping her."

He sighed, "Another mouth to feed?"

She shrugged, "I'll pick up an extra shift at Hot Topic, aren't you in line for a raise?"

"Not that much, just an extra hundred a month." He explained. Construction workers didn't get great pay.

She shrugged again, looking through the odd contents of the bundle, "We can do it."

They weren't the best parents in the world, but they were parents. They liked her, but they never really loved her like parents should. She never had many friends growing up, they were all a little creeped out by the big red birthmark on her forehead, that she would find out later was the Japanese Kanji for love.

Most of her clothes were from goodwill, or salvation army. Her parents had to get food stamps to feed her. Eventually, she and her father had to start dealing drugs to get money to afford the rent.

Ichiro Uchiha and Shika Nara got the worst of the lot. They were both found on the doorstep of a group home. For two days, they shared a crib on the boys side of the home, because there was no where on the girls side for Shika to sleep. Then, a few babies got adopted out, and Shika was moved to the girls side.

No one ever adopted Ichiro Uchiha, because of his eyes. Pure black, it creeped all of the parents out. As soon as he turned eight, he was moved into the foster system, better luck for him there.

He never really stayed in one place long, the families wanted a boy who likes sports, or skateboarding, and getting in trouble while hanging out with friends. But he wasn't a very social creature, he stuck to himself, hardly smiled, and glared at anyone he saw.

Shika Nara wasn't adopted either, because of one little flaw. When she came in, there was a deep red cut over her left eye. They treated it, but they were afraid that she would lose her sight in her left eye because of it. No one wanted a half blind baby. The scar stayed, and it wasn't until she was six that they found out she had perfect vision.

Still, no one ever claimed her, the scar was a turn off. They wanted a pretty baby, a pretty little girl. When she was eight, she was also put into the foster system, her homes never really stuck, she tended to scare most people with her behavior.

People wanted a nice daughter, one who liked smiling and laughing. One who wore skirts and dresses and pretty things. Shika wasn't like that. She wore long sleeved, solid color shirts that were comfortable, and straight leg jeans. She didn't socialize very much, she tended to sit back, and stare up at the clouds, by herself. Her grades were perfect, but her drive was lacking. She was a very rare breed, a lazy genius. Her foster dads didn't like it when she told them their favorite foot ball team was going to lose, and then it turned out she was right.

Her foster mothers didn't like it when they asked her "So, any cute boys catch your eye?" and she would simply reply "Boys are such a drag."

Both of them were looking at long, disappointing lives in the foster care system.

Nakato Uzumaki had a decent hand dealt to her by fate. The couple that found her were Japanese, and after reading the beginning of the letter, they hid the package, not showing to had government jobs, the mother was a police officer, and the father was a firefighter. They already had a son, who was eight, and named Mark. The couple had been trying for years to have another child, a girl, but never did. So when Nakato showed up on their front porch, it was a blessing.

She grew up, and was always depressed inside about not knowing her real parents, but hid it was smiles that were to big, and laughter that was to loud. She was born with marks on her face that looked like whiskers, but they were just birthmarks. She was embarrassed about them, but tried to cover up her insecurities with laughter.

Eventually, their parents, adoptive or foster, all give them their belongings, and explain what happened to them. All of them react in different ways, some cry, some shrug it off like nothing, some get angry, some smile to reassure their adoptive parents that they still love them, some simply stare down their caretakers until they leave them alone, but they all do one thing exactly the same as soon as they're able.

They start wearing their headbands, proudly displaying the fact that they're different. They look through books, the internet, tear through old poems and stories, and those who can't read their letters find someone who can read it to them.

How long can this go on, until they start noticing each other?

Eventually, even in the crowded New York City, people are destined to meet.

And with murderers lurking around every corner, how long until they need to fight?