Out in the middle of the deep desert a young child around the age of four was laying collapsed, face in the sand. Stirring she felt a warm sensation on her body. Groaning she grudgingly opened her eyes. A huge wave of blinding light hit her causing her eyes to snap back shut and throw her hands up over her face.
"Mm…" she sat up and rubbed her eyes trying to get the sting of the light out. "Wha… what's going on?" She slid her hands down and attempted to open her eyes again. This time she was able to concentrate her vision and take in the sights around her. She gazed around her to see nothing but sand for miles and miles.
"Wha… where am I?" Her little voice was cracked and soft like a child's.
"This… this isn't my room." She was frantic with worry, nothing made sense. She should be safe in a bed….shouldn't she. But she wasn't, instead she was stranded in the desert all alone.
Not only did she not know where she was, she couldn't remember a thing about how she got here in the middle of a blazing desert. The sand beneath her glowed with heat, searing her skin without mercy. She tried to move but found herself weighed down for some reason. When she looked down she saw what looked like a giant blanket over her, but when she looked closer she noticed the blanket had two holes on the side to put her arms through.
"Mm! Wha…. What happened to my shirt?!" She stared at the shirt in horror. It was huge on her, so huge she could use it as a tent. "I…I don't like this…" She was on verge of tears. She was so confused and lost, she didn't know what to do. Not only did her shirt not fit, she was swimming in her pants as well.
"Wha…. What's going on… where… where am I? And whose pants are these?" She choked out before bursting into tears. She was in the middle of some strange land with no where to go and cloths that swallowed her up.
The air hung around like a fog, smothering the man has he treaded through the desert. It almost felt like someone's hand was around his throat, cutting off his breathing. Humid, almost to the point where the sun was cooking him alive.
"Damn sun." The man wiped his hand across his sweating forehead, flicking the perspiration onto the sand below. His face was half obscured by the dirtied white cloth that hung over the left side of his face. Two red stripes tattooed his right cheek, drawing attention to his beady eyes. His mouth was drawn into a tight frown, which only made his face even more menacing.
Dredging through the wretched desert was worse then stepping on thousands of tiny daggers. Pulling his hood tighter around his head he peered around the small alcove the sand dunes had created. Nothing surrounded him on all sides, making the walls of sand feel like they were moving closer together, boxing him in a cocoon of gritty sand. The masked man stifled back a moan of displeasure and walked forward, trying not to look around himself too carefully.
"Tech…." He thrust his hands into his pockets and fingered the smooth surface of his kunai, taking pleasure in it's reassurance. He couldn't be certain, but the man had the distinct feeling he was not alone in the dune. Some sort of presence tingled his experienced senses, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Without making a sound he lifted the kunai from his pocket and clasp in hidden in his hand as he stood on the peak of a small mountain of sand. A small whine was the first thing to assault his senses, making his kunai snap out of his hand and sink into the ground not five feet from him.
"Getting jump…Uh!" A flicker of movement caught his eye, barely an inch from the kunai, beneath the shelter of some sort of rag something move. Something…..tiny. He hopped over the side and walked over to the rag, ripping it off in a fluid motion.
"Don't move!" Another kunai had found it's way into his hand, and now pressed against the throat of a small child, "Mmmm…" The girl couldn't be older then five, and yet here she was out in the desert. Alone. Or was she. Could it be possibly this girl child was the bait to some methodical trap laid for him. Foolish ploy that it was considering his detest for the younger generations.
"Mm…." The little girl trembled beneath the blade, "P….P…Please…." her small lips quivered, her saucer blue eyes staring up at his face, baring into his soul for mercy.
"What are you doing out here?!" He barked, tightening his grip on the blade, "Answer me!"
"I….I….I…." She shook her head, "P….Please…..Dont hurt me!" Her eyes snapped shut.
"Answer my question little girl….What the hell are you doing out here alone!"
"I….i wwoke uup herrre…." She stuttered, wrapping her arms around her small body, "Please…..i…I didn't do…anything….I…I want to go home…." She started to cry miserably, drowning herself in her own tears.
"What's your name? What village are you from?"
"I….I….Izumi….I….i…don't know….where I'm from…" She continued to quiver under his interigation.
"Mm…." The man scanned over the area thoroughly before he pulled the kunai away and stashed it in his waist pouch, "Who ever you are…Izumi was it…." He glared down at her with contempt, "You won't last much longer out here…I suggest you head back to wherever you came from." He turned away from her and started to walk off.
"Mm…A…Aren't you….going to help me?" Her small voice washed over him, and for an instant….He felt a small twinge of sympathy for the girl's problem.
"No….I'm not going to help you….If you want out of this damn dune, your going to have to do it yourself." And with that he flung his cape behind him and started to climb the wall of sand until he made it to the top.
The girl, weeping and trembling, watched as the only person that could help her walk away without a second look.
Nothing short of a miracle allowed Izumi to rough the twenty foot sand wall, and manage to climb over it. Still shaken from the mummied man that had tried to kill her, she was ever vigilant to escape from her hellish nightmare and return home to her safe and warm bed, wherever that happened to be. After the strenuous climb that allotted two hours of her time, she was standing on top of the dune looking out of the forest of sand, dunes and rocks.
"Where….am I?" Her voice cracked from the constant lack of hydration. Confused, thirsty and aching from everywhere on her body, Izumi started to follow footprints she spotted in the sand. She knew who they belonged to. The scary man who had held a knife to her throat, but it was either go that way, or try and go back. Either way was a long shot, and her child-like brain rationalized that his way might lead to a city. So at the risk of running into the mummy again, she headed into his direction. Luckily the wind was too soft to have blown away his prints, and she had an easy enough time following them.
After about four hours of incessant walking, Izumi collapsed onto the sand face planting herself. Her muscles twitched with over exertion, and her throat felt like gravel. Barely able to keep her eyes open she called out for help, though little more then a squeak escaped her mouth.
When she could no longer speak, Izumi tried crawling on the sand, which turned into more like sliding because her knees couldn't bend anymore. But exhausted as she was, finally the frail child completely succumbed to the darkness threatening her and collapsed into oblivion.
Finally, after traveling for five days without rest the man reached his home village. The high cliffs of Suna beckoned him to hurry, his home was awaiting him, along with his much deserved rest and relaxation.
"Baki-sensei!" A slightly high pitched voice called out to him, "You've returned at last." The man turned toward the voice and a deep frown formed on his face.
"Yashamaru…what the devil are you doing outside the gates?" He growled.
The younger, and much kinder, looking man merely smiled sweetly, "I've come to fetch herbs for Gaara's treatment."
"Gaara…" The name spat from his mouth like a curse, "Still fostering that demon are you?" Baki pushed his hood off and started to brush the sand from his clothes, "I figured the little beast would have killed you by now."
"Mm…." Yashamaru frowned for the first time, "I wish you would not refer to my nephew that way…"
"Tech….it matters little to me what you wish…." Baki pushed past the smaller man, knocking him back an inch, "I've got to report to the Kazekage…..have fun with your little demon." And with his harsh last words, Baki disappeared into the gate, vanishing.
"Such a disagreeable man…" Yashamaru shook his head as he turned back toward the desert, "Now….if I remember correctly…..It grew somewhere near the Cliffs of Bagnork…" He tapped his chin, "Or was it….by the Southern Oasis…." He shrugged his shoulders, "I'll just have to check both I suppose." He smiled and started to walk south, intending to check the Oasis first.
