Religion here was something of an oxymoron.

It was truly mystifying how it worked. For example, there were temples and statues of gods and whatnot, places where people went to pray and where monks lived. That could surely be considered normal, if one lived in a normal world. In a shinobi world though, what constitutes as divinity?

If one walks on water, it is hardly a miracle. So, what's the point in having religion or beliefs in gods if the people around you already defied the laws of nature? I mean, you would have to set the bar really high to find standards even shinobi were incapable of. Perhaps people feel more at peace, thinking things are out of their hands; man makes plans and god laughs or whatever. Maybe they're afraid of death, whether something comes after it or not.

I can attest to the fact that death is not the end.

Unfortunately.

But that's beside the point. I have never been religiously inclined; it hardly mattered to me whether god was real or not. He wasn't going to pay the bills anyway. The funny thing is, you could be on freaking mars, and somehow you would still learn things about Christianity.

It's annoying.

Everyone, willingly or not, knows about Virgin Mary, and Jesus dying on the cross. Every hotel room in America has a damn bible in one of the nightstand drawers. We've all heard of the Ten Commandments.

This brings me to my current problem.

Just because I don't care about god or religion doesn't mean I lack morals. Stealing is one of those lines I wouldn't cross, right next to flat out murder. All over the world there are people who work hard every damn day in order to afford the things they need. Homes, food, clothing, the bare necessities all cost money and a lot of times people struggle to obtain them. Stealing rather than putting in the work for what you want is wrong, and stealing from those in need is unforgivable.

Given the chance, I would gladly work for what I need, but as it happens, I'm a six year old, so that idea's off the table. It's been about a month since my alarming day at the Namikazes, and during that time I have continuously gone out of my way to avoid certain people, and by people I mean the Namikazes. One would think a Hokage would have more important things to do than stalk a little girl, like maybe run a village; but no, apparently not.

He'd show up at the orphanage almost every day, at unexpected times. My time there quickly dwindled to only going back for sleep in the late hours of the night. The Matron never questioned me, and I thought this strange but really, she was inattentive and, despite her warm personality, unsuited to this line of work. If I wasn't evading the Hokage I would have written a very stern letter about the inefficient caretakers here. If I didn't sneak into the pantry at night I would have starved by now.

But I digress.

Circumventing Minato was child's play compared to Kushina. The woman was on a mission, and regrettably, I was the target. I had to abandon several of my favorite haunts when she kept turning up at them, and it was only the beginning. There had been numerous close calls, where she would be right on the edge of my vision, but by some luck I had managed to keep away.

In a twisted way, she was actually helping me. Other than my new near constant paranoia, my training had increased by leaps and bounds. I could now crawl up any surface, and my chakra sensory range was twice as large. It was stealth training at its best, evading Kushina, and it gave me the motivation necessary to improve, especially as my current streak of luck probably wouldn't last. So I needed a way to hide in plain sight.

I needed to learn how to Henge.

The problem with this is that I can't simply go to the library and find a book on it. A six year old reading on ninja techniques? Because that doesn't scream suspicious or anything. Besides, I don't even know how to do hand seals or what they mean, and that seems like something one should know. So I have to find a book on hand seals as well, and the only place that's likely to have any of that is the academy.

The academy, located right next to the Hokage tower; the place where ninjas regularly hung out. The possibility of successfully stealing academy property from right under their noses is approximately zero percent. There is literally no way I could get away with that. My best chance will be to steal from a student then.

A poor, defenseless child.

It's beyond wrong, on so many levels. Then again, if the kid wants to be a shinobi, he's going to have a tough life. In a sense I'm just preparing him for the life he wanted right? Plus if I do manage it, isn't it the kid's fault for not being able to stop me? I'm not even an academy student after all, just a six year old girl.

My moral compass is telling me no, but my brain is saying yes. Technically it is stealing, but it isn't as if I'm stealing money, or anything fundamentally important to said child's future, right? A child will be fine without the books; he may get scolded but otherwise it isn't a big deal. I would put them to better use anyway, and I could give them back eventually, when they're no longer of any use to me. Plus, I'll choose very carefully, not from any kid that looks as though they don't have to money to replace lost books.

I could just copy what I need and give it back when I'm done, too. Maybe I'd do something nice for the kid afterward, to make up for it.

Good grief, I hope I never have to kill anyone. I can barely stand stealing as it is.

I spend the next week scouting potential victims, perched in a tree across from the academy. Careful examination tells me that the first years through the third years all have the same textbooks. Fourth and fifth years have the same too, but the sixth years have an additional book. Not only will I have to steal from more than one person, I'll have to take from a sixth year if I really need that last textbook; practically a genin.

My first target finds itself really. It comes in the form of a third year brat, built like a tank and flaunting new training kunai. After watching him beat on a little first year boy during break I know there will be no remorse felt. I alternate between watching his routine and searching for an acceptable six year; preferably one who probably won't make the genin cut.

This kid appeared to be a die-hard bully. Every day he picked on the same first year, a small boy with sad brown eyes and white-blonde hair. His friends would laugh and join in, crushing the boy's lunch or something equally mean. They'd pat him on the back with a "Good one Sato" and generally follow him wherever he went. It always ended with the boy crying, and no one daring to help. A classic case of top dog combined with sheep mentality.

The teacher who watched over this break turned a blind eye to whatever the brat did. At first I thought he might just be oblivious or lazy, but at one point he clearly made eye contact with Sato during one of his campaigns, to which he just raised a brow and looked away. Something about this made me want to dig my nails into the teacher's eye sockets. Was there truly no adult guidance to be found in this village? Was poor role modeling a prerequisite?

I really wanted to know.

The Sato brat was twice the size of that little boy; he could seriously hurt him, not to mention the psychological damage that's already begun. If it wasn't for the books Sato carried I would have mistaken him for a fifth year. Something about the little boy reminds me painfully of Before, and I feel every hit he takes. Each day my anger grows at the injustice. On the sixth day I could take no more. After watching Sato split the boy's lip, and seeing him curl into fetal position as blow after blow found him, the teacher stepping in only when all is said and done, something in me snapped.

When classes end and the children began drifting out the gates, I slide down from my perch and follow Sato, a plan forming in my mind. Unlike some, his parents didn't pick him up from the academy. Instead, he and some of his minions tramped about the village for a while each day. Always the same route, towards the shopping district; where they would stop at a stall for snacks before continuing towards a park.

My confidence in their routine gave me time to go grab a dusty gray backpack from the orphanage's lost and found. I made sure to be quick about it in case a certain blond decided to show, and ended up at the park before my victim. I skulked in the shadows of a building, waiting for Sato and co. to appear; they did not disappoint.

Dropping their bags next to a tree, the kids ran off and messed around; trying to show off things they learned in class and typically being walking hazards. There were other children there so it wasn't abnormal for me to be hanging around. The few parents about were too busy chatting to pay any attention to me, but I was still cautious to stay out of anyone's peripheral vision.

I sat at the base of the trunk, on the opposite side of the schoolbags. Sliding a hand towards the pile, my fingers pull the black bag I know to be Sato's next to me. Opening it, the contents were hardly surprising. Half a sandwich, one measly unused notebook, and four textbooks greet me. I take the textbooks and, after a hesitant moment, the notebook as well before closing the bag. It seemed oddly deflated without its contents. I went through the other bags, taking the emptiest notebooks and a couple of pens before replacing the bags as they were.

My own backpack now successfully full, I stood up and walked out of the park. Today was a victory, but the drop of satisfaction I feel is brief, almost lacking. Stealing is petty, even if it was deserved. Then there was Sato, and the boy he would undoubtedly continue to torment. No one was going to stand up to him, I was sure of that now; he would continue on the same until someone taught him a lesson. Realistically, there wasn't much I could do about it; telling on him wouldn't work, and publicly humiliating him was also not an option. I wasn't about to expose myself either, not even for a down trotted little kid.

It needed to be done though.

With bullies, two courses of action could be taken. The first was to publicly stand up to them, and fight back. People like that want an easy victim, not someone capable of putting an end to their reign. I opposed this idea for obvious reasons, so that left me with one other option. If you aren't willing to publicly overthrow a bully, if you want to end the problem quietly then you need to make him feel something far more powerful than public defeat.

You needed to make him afraid.

Sato is easily three of me, but that doesn't mean much; I have a child's body, not a child's mind. Fear leaves a lasting mark on children, and at the end of the day Sato was nothing more than a cruel child; he could be easily dealt with.

Decision made, I stash my backpack and wait for nightfall. As the sun sets children head home, and one by one Sato's gang depart. The last kid walks with him, but soon they too part ways. It's dark now, and as always the kid takes a backway short cut rather than using the lighted streets. It's really nothing more than a narrow alley, and a creepy one at that, but he goes through it anyway because he's never known anything else; he grew up thinking Konoha was a safe, protected place.

He's never truly experienced fear.

You would think an academy student would have more common sense.

His senses appear to be sub par, because he just keeps walking, unaware as to my position or intentions. Sato strolls right beneath me and I jump from the fire escape, slamming onto him using my knees. He squeaks as we fall to the ground, him face first and me on his back. I use what little weight I have to pin his shoulders and hold his face down into the dirt. He jerks, trying to remove me but his hands are still pinned beneath him. I lift his face just enough to cover his mouth with a cloth and tie it, making him unable to scream.

He jerks again, muffled agitation. Maybe he thinks its one of his friends trying to play a trick on him. He doesn't seem to know to be afraid, so I give him some incentive.

"What's wrong Sato?" I ask with a low voice, holding his face up by his hair. He stills at the unfamiliarity, at my hostility. Then he begins to struggle, for real this time only to stop as he feels the sharp tip of something cool press ever so slightly to his neck. "Ah, don't move now, if we aren't careful my hand could slip and then it'd get rather messy, I'm afraid."

He whimpers, likely imagining a kunai or some other sort of knife in his attacker's hand. The reality isn't nearly as frightening, as the object he feels touching his neck is just a really sharp pencil. Kunai are dangerous after all, and the last thing I wanted was to accidentally maim him. Sato doesn't know that though, and its easier this way without him struggling. I almost feel bad.

Almost.

"Are you scared?" He shivers but I don't give him an inch, and a sinister laugh leaves me. "Good, you should be. You see, I've been watching you, and I don't like what I see. Do you enjoy beating on others? Ones who are weak? Like that little first year? The blonde boy?"

He moans, starts to shake his head only to stop at the tip of the pencil scraping his skin. I tighten my grip on his hair, pulling him up to where he could almost see me, if it had been bright enough. "You do like it, don't you? Having power over him? Is it really that much of a rush?"

I didn't need an answer, because I already knew. It showed on his face, clear as day every time he bullied that little boy and he friends cheered him on. I hated that expression, had been dying to wipe it off his smug face. I dropped my voice to a whisper and leaned down to his ear.

"You're going to stop bullying him." My tone soft, yet cold as ice. "Him and everyone else, because if you don't? I'll come for you. It will be in the middle of the night, and just as no one is here to save you now, no one will be there to hear you scream. Do you understand?"

Sato's body is shaking, and it sounds as if he's crying as he makes an affirmative sound. I think of the little boy with the white blond hair, and his shoulders that drew a little closer each day, as though he was trying to make himself disappear. I feel no remorse pushing Sato's face back into the dirt and rattling off his address, emphasizing which room belongs to him.

"I hope you do better as a person, Sato" my voice is sugary sweet. "I really don't want to have to meet with you again."

He lays motionless, shivering in silence as I remove the cloth from his mouth and get off him. A smell drifts to my nose, and looking down I see that he peed himself in fear. Still, he doesn't move, not even as I walk away. I don't wait around to see his reaction, instead retrieving my backpack from a nearby park and heading toward the orphanage.

I don't feel guilty, or remorseful for him; for the boy who took pleasure in making others suffer. I don't feel empowered by what took place either; what I'm left with is an empty satisfaction, knowing it was done and that the first year boy would no longer need to look over his shoulder. Sato was around nine years old, a child by any standard, and I had shoved his face in the dirt and made him pee himself in fear. He would go to school tomorrow with a bruised back and a couple scratches on his face.

And I felt nothing.

I went to bed wondering what kind of person that made me.


Three days later I find myself back in the tree; only half of the mission is complete, after all. At break, Sato isn't around. His pack seems a little lost without him, and they don't bother anyone. Instead they join some other kids in a game.

The little boy is still alone, but he looks… better, I suppose. He eats in silence and observes his surroundings contently. He clearly doesn't have any friends, and his expression is wistful as he watches the children play. This boy is quite possibly the saddest thing I have ever seen, but I am not a fairy god mother. I've done enough as it is, and even though a part of me wants to give him a push in the right direction, I know it's best to let it go. He'll just have to learn on his own.

The day goes on and the older students finally get their break. Rather than playing games they mostly socialize, girls chatting and boys showing off their moves. Right away I know I'll have to choose from the girls. There's no way I can take on any of the boys, and a girl will play in better if I have to act lost or something. A lone girl sits against a tree, but I quickly dismiss her in favor of the giggling group to her right.

Most of them wear ninja skirts and dresses unsuited to their future occupation. From here, they look pretty useless, but one can never be too careful. I choose a plain girl in a green dress to follow for the day. When school ends, she and some other girls all walk together, toward the main street in Konoha. They stop at a café and crowd around one of the outside tables, where they drop their bags and proceed to waste three hours talking about meaningless things like hair and boys.

Ladies and gentlemen, the future of Konoha.

The girl splits from her friends, waving a farewell, and goes straight home. I follow her for five days to make sure she keeps to the routine. It's truly depressing how predictable people are. Sato doesn't show up for school until the sixth day, and he keeps his distance from the boy, twitching nervously. He clearly isn't sleeping well, though he seems to manage okay, almost normal around his friends.

Classes end once again and I pull my hair up into a hat borrowed from the orphanage. I go straight to the café and watch from across the street as the girls get situated. The plain girl sits on the outside with her bag on the floor by the back of the chair. I walk by and discreetly grab it as I go, turning onto the next street, with no one the wiser. I'm almost disappointed in them. It will be a miracle if any of those girls make it to genin.

I go to the nearby park where my trusty dusty backpack waits and switch the textbooks over. The notebooks are pretty used and I leave them, for all I know this girl could be awful at theory so there's no point in reading them. Then I spot the girls wallet, and I begin to feel conflicted. She'll probably need it to pay for her snack at that café, and it isn't as though I can just dump the bag with the wallet in it. What kind of thief leaves money behind but not a text book? It was too abnormal.

I took extra care to bring the bag back unnoticed, as troublesome as it was, though I needn't have bother stressing about it; yet again I went unnoticed. Konoha's youth was far too naïve, and I was positive it would get them into trouble one day.

It wasn't my problem though.

The academy had to have low standards if those girls were still in it. What a sad thought. With plenty of time to kill, I head over to Shika's favorite clearing. During one of the many times I found myself fleeing from Kushina, I ran into the forest there and accidentally stumbled upon a lovely little stream. There was just enough room around it for a full grown adult to lay out, and it was a perfect place to stash things I would rather not be found. The stream, only about a foot deep, would be ideal if I ever got around to water walking.

That was a thought for another day though, so I settled on the grass and relieved myself of my burden; with all the heavy textbooks weighing down my pack, my six year old shoulders had begun to ache. I take out each book, setting them down in a row before me and examining each cover. Geography, Mathematics, History, Chakra theory, Beginners kata, and Weapon theory are my prizes. I discard the first three in favor of the others immediately.

I spent twelve years doing math, thank you very much, and things like history and geography would not be very useful at the moment. I would go back to them when I had a better understanding of everything else. Chakra theory seems like a good place to start, so I grab a notebook and pen, getting to work. I copy key ideas and concepts, making side notes for questions. This takes longer than expected, probably because I'm used to writing in English.

I decided early on to never write in anything but Japanese, and never anything incriminating in the event that someone gets a little too curious. Being left handed certainly doesn't help as I have to wait for the ink to dry or make a mess of the notes. I only get about a quarter through before the sun starts setting and I shiver. It may be fire country but for mid-November it sure was cold.

Putting everything away, I stuff the backpack into a hollow log and make note to bring something water resistant to cover it tomorrow like a garbage bag. It would be hard to explain why I have stolen academy textbooks if someone goes through my things. Living at the orphanage was really starting to annoy me. Only six more years to go before I absolutely had to leave. All hell would be breaking loose by then and I definitely didn't want to be around to witness it. Or participate in it.

Game plan: get out of Konoha before the invasion.

Be strong enough to protect myself.

Travel to safe places.

Easy, straight to the point.

At least, I hope so.


The sun had just donned over the horizon when I awoke and went about my morning routine. About an hour after sunrise is one of those strange hours when Minato decides to pop around, and having gotten my circumvention of the dreaded Namikaze duo down to an art, I was not about to give in to defeat yet. Desperate times called for desperate measures, I had gone two years avoiding contact with shinobi while living in a hidden village, and so if losing a couple hours of sleep and skipping a meal meant I was able to go about my days somewhat peacefully, then by god it would be done.

That is how I find myself making a hasty retreat from the orphanage after nabbing a couple rice balls for breakfast. As the sun continues to rise I wander the village, relishing in the tranquility that came with the early morning. A veil of quiescence had fallen over Konoha, the streets bare of all but the occasional early riser going about their days with only the rustle of leaves to accompany them. It was a peacefulness that did not last though, as the birds began to chirp and village slowly stirred to life.

I had made my way close to the center of the village by then, quickly cutting across it and towards a side street I knew to be a shortcut to my destination. I'd taken two steps down that path when a splash of green in the distance caught my eye; a splash of green that seemed to be walking on his hands. I paused for the briefest of moments, processing the scene before me, before promptly pivoting back in the direction I had come.

Not today, fate.

Not today.

I made it to Shika's tree in the most roundabout way, content to laze beneath it for the rest of the day; stalking children took more energy than one would think. The sun climbs higher in the sky, warming my skin, and it's only a matter of time before I doze off. I was hovering senselessly in the midst of consciousness and sleep when something faintly brushes against my arm. I'm almost too far gone to care about the familiar gesture indicating my friend's arrival, barely managing to open my tired eyes to acknowledge him.

Shikamaru lays to my left, gaze skyward. He watches the clouds and I him, an easygoing ambiance surrounding us. The silence is comfortable, so of course it does not last.

"You were gone." Though his posture was relaxed and his tone was deceptively indifferent, there was a displeased glint in his gaze that hinted he felt otherwise. "For two weeks."

I'd nearly forgotten that.

Acquiring the textbooks without anyone catching on had taken up the bulk of my free time. Unfortunately there wasn't any feasible way to explain that to Shika, and I couldn't bring myself to make up a lie about it either. Lying was a tricky business, one that could backfire easily if I wasn't careful; I wouldn't lie if I didn't have to, not when it came to such a minor thing.

"I was." I didn't offer an excuse and Shikamaru didn't ask.

"Chouji was worried." He doesn't say he was too, which is fine because he doesn't need to. That he even bothered to bring it up is telling enough, and it fills me with a rare moment of endearment.

"Ah, I'm sorry." I brush my knuckles against his in apology, and his reciprocation assures me all is forgiven. "I'll be more attentive, next time."

"So troublesome." He sighs. I hum in response, and we go back to relaxing. I feel slightly guilty for neglecting my friends, and vow to spend the entire day with them. Eventually Chouji appears, beaming at my lax form. He sits in the shade of the tree and relays his whole week. He and Shika will be starting at the academy in the spring, which he's equally nervous and excited about.

Neither was happy when I explained to them that I would be starting civilian school, but thankfully they didn't push it. The boys had seen my reaction to shinobi, which was usually a mix of distaste and wariness. Being the child he is, Chouji likely misinterpreted this as fear, but Shikamaru's ever observant eyes seemed to know better. Something about that made me wary as well. Noon passed, and the boys suggested we go to Shika's for lunch.

My meager denial went ignored, and I soon found myself at the gate of the Nara clan compound. As we strolled through curiosity got the better of me, and I slowed to take in the view. The Nara compound was large, lined with several houses and other buildings, with a forest peeking out towards the back. A few people were going to and fro, some greeting us as we passed. It was a rather informal place, giving off a peaceful atmosphere.

Shikamaru's house was no different from the ones around it, considering it belonged to the clan head. It was a strange mix of oriental and western, and as we took off our shoes I wondered how westernization was even possible here. Actually, there were so many things ass backward about the elemental nations that it had gotten to the point where rationalizing it was nigh impossible and ultimately pointless.

"I'm home." Shika monotoned.

"Welcome back." A voice said from further within the house.

"I brought friends over. We'll be on the patio." He replied, leading the way through the house to the back. He slid a screen door open to reveal a porch and gestured for Chouji and I to make ourselves comfortable before disappearing back into the house.

When he comes back out with a board my stomach drops.

"This," He tells me. "Is shogi. It's a strategy game."

I groan.

As the board and tiles were set up he explained the rules, and what each piece did. I huff but listen anyway, it couldn't hurt to try. Before we can start though a woman comes through the open door, a tray of food in hand.

Nara Yoshino had a stern face, and looked what I imagine a young Minerva McGonagall would. She was someone you did not want to disappoint, and I couldn't help the blush that rose as I was introduced and scrambled to give the appropriate response. To her credit Yoshino only gave my pig tails a passing glance, before smiling and greeting me in return. Strangely, her smile seemed to transform her face, brightening her eyes, and it was easy to see how someone like Shikaku could fall in love with her.

She set the tray down and went back into the house, and after I asked a million questions the game began. In all honestly I was very confused, but I figured it was a bit like checkers, so I took to capturing pieces and using them to my advantage. The king was important, so I was careful to protect it. As our game continued Shikamaru became frustrated at the carelessness with which I played, sacrificing pawns left and right to chip away at his defense. It was by some miracle that I captured his king, leaving behind a massacre of pieces in my wake.

"Ah." I hummed. "I think I won."

"That you did." A voice replied from above, startling me.

Shikaku stood in the doorway, observing the board. Behind him was Inoichi, peering around his figure to see what had caught his friend's attention. As his gaze slid to me I bowed.

"Hello Yamanaka-sama, Nara-sama." Hopefully that's the correct way to greet a clan head.

"Good to see you Nao-chan. No need to be so formal though, Shikaku is just fine."

"Yes, I'd prefer Inoichi as well." The Yamanaka echoed.

"Er, okay."

"So, Nao-chan," Shikaku said, lowering himself to my level. "That was an interesting game. What do you say to another one?" Without waiting for an answer Shikamaru moved to the side, leaving the Nara clan head to take his previous spot. Inoichi settled next to Chouji as I considered my options. Somehow, I got the feeling that saying no thanks was the wrong choice; they would probably ignore my denial anyway.

It hardly mattered whether I played or not, Shikaku would still win after all. With a sigh I nodded and together we set up the board. He allowed me the first move, and I used my previous strategy, showing more precaution this time around. Something about this felt like a test, and I was unsure whether I wanted to well or not. A Nara was not someone you wanted to make an enemy of.

Also, I'd die if Shika's parents didn't like me.

The game progressed, and the clacking of the pieces against the board became soothing as I grew more and more absorbed. Unlike the previous game, Shikaku forced me to change strategy and move my king several times, and in retaliation I attacked his army, stealing pieces left and right. My conflicted position over everything left me all over the board, making moves only to discard their original motives before switching to other forms of attack and defenses.

Eventually, the game drew to a halt.

"A draw." Shikaku chuckled, rubbing his face. "Shall we leave it here then, for today?"

I blinked, released from the trance I had been in. The sky was pink with the setting sun, and my companions were looking vaguely astonished. Part of me was surprised at the time, but the rest of my mind was still in the match; it had been… fun, despite how little I actually understood. Shikamaru wiped the surprise from his face and stood up, stretching. I followed suit.

"You should stay for dinner tonight." He said. "We're having curry."

"I don't know..." I wasn't eager to return to the orphanage while it was still light out, especially with the chance of a blonde menace waiting for me. I also didn't want to over stay my welcome. Shika shrugged lazily.

"You don't have to, but it's not as if you have somewhere to be."

Coming from anyone else, that might have been a tad harsh. It was Shikamaru though, and also true, so I agreed to stay. Chouji and Inoichi had their own families to go home to, so they said their goodbyes and went off. Our group merged to the low table of the dining room, where Shikaku took his place at the head. Shika lowered himself into the seat to his father's left and I sat safely next to him, using my friend as a human barrier.

"That was quite a game Nao-chan." Shikaku murmured. "It's been a while since I'd been able to play such an interesting game of shoji. Your strategy was commendable."

A compliment?

I shrugged in reply, unwilling to explain that I had been honestly winging it; I didn't picture that going over well. He must have taken my lack of response as modesty, because he laughs good naturedly and pats my head comfortingly.

"You did quite well. Have you played before?"

"She just learned today." Shikamaru told him, baffled.

Shikaku gets a look, the sort of look I see on his son's face when he's trying to figure something fascinating out. Such an expression does not bode well for me, so I excuse myself to see if Yoshino needs assistance. The open doorway directly across from the dining room appears to be the kitchen. A table for four sits to one side, and I ponder briefly on its use; really, what was the point in two dinner tables? The Nara matriarch is standing at the stove, stirring the curry; I clear my throat and she turns.

"Nara-sama?" My voice comes out softer than I would have liked, unsurprising considering how intimidating she seems. "Is there anything I can help with?"

A faraway look enters her expression, a mixture of hope and wariness, and somehow, I get the impression she's thinking of another red head. An obnoxious, clumsy one. Yoshino blinks and nods her head. "Could you set the table then?" she asks, directing me to the cabinet.

"Yes ma'am."

I set to work, and as soon as I'm done dinner is being served. None of the Nara sit formally, but I do so anyway, wanting to be polite. Light conversation is made by Yoshino, who must also be informed of my parentless situation, because she never strays close to that line of questioning; in fact, she appears to evade it with ease. The pleasant surprise on her face when she learns of my shogi match with her husband amuses me, along with the pride in Shika's voice as he tells her. We take turns discussing many things, and I find myself opening up more, expressing my opinion.

Experiencing a real family dinner- something I had missed out on for the longest time- gives the night an almost magical sense, and I giggle freely, light as a feather. Shikamaru, who'd taken to eyeing my food, cracks a grin at my beaming expression. It feels like a prefect day, so, as these things do, it doesn't last. As dinner ends a thrill runs up my spine and on reflex I stiffen.

A sickeningly familiar chakra signature was close and approaching fast. My smile becomes strained, and Shika, sensing the change, furrows his brows questioningly to me. Seconds pass, and just as I begin to think maybe it's all a coincidence, that I'm in the clear, a knock on the front door echoes through the house.

Shit.

"Alright, Nao-chan?" Shikaku asks as Yoshino rises to answer the door. I nod bleakly in reply, feeling too nauseous to give a verbal reply. I listen as the door opens and two sets of footsteps return, before my nightmare appears in the doorway, one hand on her hip and red hair swinging. My mind fights against my body's screaming urge to vanish from sight.

"Hiya!" Kushina sings. "I'm here to pick up Nao-chan." Her gaze zeros in on me and I shoot her a look filled with distaste and scoot closer to Shikamaru. He stares ahead with a neutral expression, but I know better; he's wondering how a troublesome situation rose from the otherwise pleasant night we had been having.

"I see." Yoshino replies. "Your timing is well, we just finished up."

"That's lucky." Kushina says before turning to me. "Right then, ready Chibi-chan?"

At this point I'm clutching Shika's arm in a death grip. How did she even find me? I was so careful! I had done so well, where did it go wrong? Unwilling to give in without a fight, I turn to Shikaku stoically. "Unfortunately I'm not supposed to go with strangers. The matron wouldn't be pleased if she found out you let a suspicious person take me, Shikaku-san."

It was a thinly veiled threat, but I wasn't above such things. Shikaku grimaced, probably at the thought of the complaint that would be filed. He was currently unaware of how useless the matron really was, and I would work that to my advantage; hell, I'd even write the complaint myself and send it in. Hope blooms within me as he turns to the women, but one look at the fiery redhead sends it crashing as his shoulders slump ever so slightly in defeat. The small part of my mind that isn't promising vengeance has to admit that it's a fair reaction on his part.

One does not simply deny Kushina.

By the smug expression on her face, I'd wager Kushina knew this. She trots happily over and pries my hand from Shikamaru, who watches on mournfully as our pleasant evening comes to an end. I barely manage a goodbye before I'm whisked away into the night, thrown over Kushina's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She uses her speed as we go, hopping across rooftops. Her long hair mixes with mine and together they swat at my face until I can no longer tell the difference. I work in vain to keep my eyesight as we go. Before long she slows down, and I untangle myself from her hair as she throws a door open.

It hits the wall with a loud thwack, as she sings "I'm home!

Rather than putting me down like a normal human being, she continues to carry me through the house before abruptly stopping. Putting her hands under my arms, she swiftly holds me out from her, as if revealing a prize.

"Look what I found!" Kushina squeals.

Facing me are Minato, Naruto, and Kakashi; all looking bewildered. Scratch that, Minato looks vaguely concerned. Probably due my ruffled appearance and panicked expression; that would concern anyone really. Who can blame me though?

I've been kidnapped.