Cheers to the wonderful anonymous reviewer RED! WOO!

~~||~~||~~ Hitomi's PoV ~~||~~||~~

My limbs still felt tingly and jelly-like as I stumbled away from the children, who had snatched the food away and were currently scarfing it down like no tomorrow. A perverted feeling had twisted its way into my gut as I watched them eat – I wanted to cry. They were savages, ravenous and orphaned. I nearly gave them the food that had made my packs feel fuller. Almost. I would've scooped them both up – one was a girl, the other a boy, I could now tell – and taken them with me, but I had a mission to complete. My father had disappeared in Suna. Disappeared, not died. I was sure he was alive. The fierce longing in my heart was almost overpowering. I would fight to find my family, fight to prove myself, to accomplish something no-one else had done.

So obviously, I was kicking myself. What were the chances of meeting a boy from Suna so soon on my journey? And I had watched him disappear, so far my only chance to find my past.

Sasori…

I still remembered his clear, calculating gaze. It was unnerving, his stare – it was like my every lie, every thought had been examined and tossed aside. When trickery is you best defense, you do not want it seen through in seconds. I was almost thankful that he had departed so quickly – imagine trying to get anything out of him. Harder than convincing Keiko to make Okayu (her mother's recipe, which apparently tasted so fabulous Keiko was afraid of trying to make it, lest she failed miserably).

Opening my bags I dug around. My fingers brushed my flute once more, but the thoughts of my father were stronger.

Except I had nothing to satisfy that hunger - nothing had been salvaged, apart from a single was of my mother – sitting on a swing, just after her wedding. She was beautiful, amazingly so, and her light pink kimono matched the blush on her cheeks. A familiar pang stole through me – my mother had died during childbirth, because of me. I suppose I didn't deserve her talent, or her beauty. Life wasn't that forgiving. Life didn't even leave me with a picture of my father.


I scowled at the rising sun, straying closer towards the shadows. I didn't know why I hated the sun, but I did. It didn't do much good. My pale skin, which failed to get a tan, would turn red. Shadows confused me. The lethargy, the energy-and-will sapping heat – what good did it do? The rain was better. Cool, quiet, pure. It concealed your blundering moves; it cleaned the air and made everything alive. I had always disappeared into the scrappy orphanage garden when the first cold drops hit the leaves. It was silent, still, cold – it was mine.

I stuck to the trees near the well worn path now, the one that tea merchants and bustling farmers plodded along. I was too shy to go up to any of the chattering, boisterous families, so I strained my ears, stalking anybody who said "Suna."

I wish I had a map. Or a magic carpet. Or a magic carpet equipped with a map.

I leapt across the treetops, my pace matched with those of the civilians ...until I realized the family I had been following for the past two hours were way ahead, and I was following the tail of a sad little plow horse. Disorientated, I picked up my pace towards the carts up ahead. I saw a flash of red, and promptly slapped myself.

The sun seemed to be getting hotter as every hour passed. I found myself wiping the perspiration from my forehead more and more often. This heat was too much – it was intense, draining, consuming. I was scared to stop – what if I lost the people I was pursuing? My limbs felt weak, my vision edged with bright pinpoints of light. My cheeks felt very, very hot, and I succumbed to the lull of the cool shadows. Gasping slightly, I splashed some precious water onto my face, soaking a few rags in it and laying it onto my own brow. Keiko had done the same when one of us was feverish.

Tiny black spots speckled my view. I was hot, confused, alone…

And I blacked out.


It was…dark. Something cold was pressed up against my lips, my head, my neck. I was on fire. Thick, hot, vermillion flames licked at my very core. My eyes wouldn't open. I parted my lips, in a futile effort to scream, but the cold hard something moved slightly, and a liquid made its way down my throat. Water. I opened my lips farther, but ended up spitting the liquid out. It tasted like shit. I tried opening my eyes again, succeeding this time, to see… darkness. I panicked now; my heart thudding erratically, as the cool against my brow disappeared, letting the fire claw its way up higher across my body. My breathing hitched as a thing – a hand – touched my forehead.

"Relax… it's alright… drink this."

I pressed my lips shut, only to have them forced open and the foul-tasting potion pushed down my gullet. My eyes flew open, and I registered vague, dark shapes and the night sky. "You were overcome by the heat, I suppose. It was mild sunstroke, nothing to worry about, though you were severely dehydrated. How much water have you had today? Good thing that young man found you – you had collapsed, and nearly fallen off a tree. What were you doing up there anyway?"

I pushed words past my lips. My voice was a croak, a whisper. "Young man? Yuki?"

Yuki? Geez, I must have been dazed.

Obviously, the old man (I could make out people now) thought so too. "Yuki? No, no, it was someone else. Sasori, he said. Most impatient. Though I suppose he isn't too much of a bad fellow – many other people would have walked right past you, girl, so count yourself lucky. He was set on getting on his way as soon as possible – he left not five minutes ago. Said he was going to Suna, nothing more. Ah, I guess he's from there, what with his puppets."

The wizened man in front of me spoke in short, sharp sentences, each one punctuated with a nasal sigh and a full stop. Suddenly my senses were alert. Sasori. Again? First he gives me food, now saves me? Bah, pretty soon he's going to have an ego the size of Konoha. I registered the man's wandering comments slightly, as I struggled to pick myself up, collapsing each time. His hand shot out but I shrugged it off with some effort.

"Please, sir, tell me which way he went. I need to find him!"

The gnarled person shook his head, adamant. "You aren't going anywhere, until I make sure you're healthy. Lie back down before you overexert yourself."

I managed to walk a few wobbly steps. "Look, I'm fine. This is serious – please tell me which way he went. Atleast I have a chance of catching up to him if I leave now. Else I'll just blunder around in the forest, and all the effort you put in to save me will be useless."

The man sighed. "Look, child, you will not do either. Sit down and drink something."

"But -!"

"I suggest you listen to him, Hitomi."

Oh shit.

I turned around, facing Sasori. Duh. Who else had a voice that reminded me of the sun I so despised? "But – I – why – why are you here?"

Sasori raised an eyebrow, his face otherwise expressionless. "Again with the insufferable questions. Shouldn't you be thanking me for saving your sorry little self? I merely came back to check on you – wouldn't want my hard work to go to waste, would I? You're heavy for someone so near anorexic."

I blushed slightly, feeling embarrassed. Then my mouth opened again. "Well then, why didn't you use your amazing puppet magic to drag me here? Actually, why didn't you just leave me? You were certainly keen on doing just that a few hours ago."

Sasori smirked. "It is not magic I use. Puppeteering is an art. Though you probably cannot understand it."

My hands clenched into fists. "Don't talk to me about art, Sasori."

He looked at me hard and long. Then, suddenly, he turned his face towards the old man. "Ryu, I don't think there's much point in making her move. She needs rest, and I must be going, so please make sure she doesn't come running after me. I don't want to carry her all the way back here," he spoke, his voice smoothing to a honey-and-amber tone, as he produced a coin from his pocket. I ogled. "Please, take this from me on Hitomi's behalf, to pay for the herbs."

Flicking the coin in the air, he turned and was halfway across the clearing before I stopped ogling. "Wait – wait! I know you're going to Suna!"

He paused. "And?"

I was at a loss then. And what? "Can you tell me how to get there?"

He cocked his head to the side, not looking at me. "Hmmm… no."

"Why not? Please? I need help!"

"Haven't I already helped you enough, Hitomi?"

"I didn't ask for it!"

"Ungrateful, much?"

I stopped. Dammit, he was right. I blushed a little deeper now – enter Tomato Girl. "Okay… I guess you're right. I am ungrateful. But please, I need to get to Suna. It's… it's the only thing I have, I guess."

He smirked again. "What, your aunt?"

I grinded my teeth. This boy seemed to know exactly which buttons to push to make me explode. "Not my aunt… but another family member. I'm looking for my father." It pained me to tell the truth.

I looked into his unblinking eyes. His face was expressionless (big woop), and I gritted my teeth. I had staked it on the truth - wasted it on a person that couldn't feel.

I was pathetic. Somehow, in front of him, my charades all melted away, leaving the naked truth hanging precariously in front of him.

"Very well. I'll take you to Suna. But after that, we part ways. I'm not going to be there to save you any more."

He's TAKING me to Suna? I was hoping for a map and directions! Oh god… a day, maybe more, stuck with Sasori… my nightmares were coming true. I imagined trying to initiate a conversation with him. Nothing came up.

"W-wait! You…"

He quirked a perfect eyebrow again. My voice died in my throat. "Nothing…"

"Very well." He cast Ryu a glance. "Sir, thank you for your help. I'm capable of taking care of her, now that you've done such a fine job of healing her. We'll be leaving now."

He glanced at me, signaling that I should pick up my pack and arse and follow him. Scooping up my belongings, leaving Ryu (who I really felt sorry for now) speechless, I touched my flute for comfort and trailed behind Sasori.

I hated sunstroke. I was stuck with the Puppet Boy now. Stupid, stupid sunstroke.


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