AN: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the ideas or copyrighted or trademarked material. This writing is for enjoyment only.

We first start with a little of Jin's background. Very little of Konoha is apparent in this chapter, so if you're a Leaf or Naruto nut, this isn't the fic for you.

Later on, all the known and loved characters will be appearing and becoming consistent parts of the story.(Chapter 2 ;;)

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"Jin... Jin,honey, wake up, it's morning already." A pair of hands reached down and pushed lightly against a figure laying under a set of blankets tucked away in the corner of a large tent. "Jin..."

Ai, the person attempting to wake the drowsy boy, was arguably one of the best Seal Kunoichi on the face of the shinobi planet. But Jin didn't know that, if he did, he wouldn't have been so caustic in lack of reply. He simply peeked his head up from under the blanket, his rather long hair a bit of a mess and shook his head, sliding back under the covers.

"Oh come one Jin. It's breakfast already."

A light and drawn out grunt was heard beneath a rather thick blanket. Beneath this blanket was the curled up form of a boy, who while huddled in the warmth of the thick blanket and clinging to the wisps of a dream had no intention of waking up so easily.

"Jin... get up. Now."

"Mmm...5 more minutes Hahaowai..." the boy, Jin, murmured in an attempt to placate his mother and sneak in a bit more uninterrupted sleep.

"I'm going to go check on breakfast, and when I get back in here, you'd better be up or else I'm throwing you out in the snow wearing what you are right now"

Beneath the blanket Jin's viridian eyes snapped open. Snow was cold.

and if you lived where Jin and the rest of the Michisuji clan had for the past 3 years , a distaste of snow would be far from unnatural. Even under the considerable weight of a fur line blanket, the young boy's toes felt the sting of a sudden temperature change when his mother lifted the flap of the family tent and the hungry cold air came in to gobble up the oh-so-precious warmth apparent in the blanket.

Resigned to his fate, Jin began the arduous process of slinking out from under the blanket towards his daily attire.

Before he dressed though, Jin pulled out a small shaving sized mirror from a knapsack stored in the corner of the tent and tidied himself up. He first tied his waist length green hair(an oddity among the Michisuji, and a never ending source of torture from his peers) into his traditional high ponytail. The single upbraided strand hung all the way down the the rug on which the nomad had sat himself cross legged upon. After quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes he stopped to glance at the other trait that was not so un-common in his family. From the edge of his right eye to the bottom of his jaw, and from his eye to his hairline was a half-centimeter wide white line in the image of a T missing on of it's higher arms.. Not a tattoo per-se, but a mark that had evolved into the Bloodline limit of the Michisuji. "I wish they would finally tell me what this all means. Everything is so damn secretive..."

Finding everything in his face still in proper positioning and placement, he preceed on to dress.

First, underneath everything else went his most hated and prized possession: a weight suit stitched inside with the thickest yeti fur he had been able to find at the time. The suit itself was ungainly enough, being the stiff parka that it was, but the slots in the shins, forearms, thighs, biceps, back, chest and ankles each contained weighted plates. Since he'd been a child, Jin had worn suits like these. Even since he had first learned to walk, the weights had then been little trinkets like bracelets until his third birthday when the first and lightest suit had been 'given' to him. Since then at decreasing intervals, the weight had grown, just like Jin.

Looking at his suit gave him a rush of nostalgia for when he was younger and he had first taken his place among the Michisuji. His father was the head of the clan, a tightly nit troupe of Nomads that traveled throughout the lands of the Shinobi, well... all except for one land. No matter the amount of urging brought upon Iyashu, the Sousui no fuu (or Path Leader) would steer the clan from entering Fire country and the domain of Konohagakure no Sato. Sometimes, his guidance would draw the Michisuji i very /i far away from Fire country, like the present. Now, situation upon some of the highest peaks in Snow country, the string of mountains known as the Kooritsume, the wandering group had stopped.

As was ritual, when as certain number of mothers were about to give birth, the entire clan would adapt to a semi-sedentary life in order to both sharpen themselves and their weapons and to bring the next generation into the clan and raise them to the same demanding life lead by the rest of the extended family. Without a doubt, the Michisuji were some of the hardest people alive. In any condition, they would thrive; in the treacherous flatlands of Grass country they found ways to immunize themselves against all but the most fatal of the poisons, in Tea country the clan had birthed a political powerhouse that had stood un-touched by the intrigue rampant until the local daimyo had grown overly weary and disbanded it, in Wave country skills of fishing and swimming had become all but second nature. The list went on and on, until the final and latest entry. Snow country, the coldest place on the face of the shinobi continent. Here, they had learned how to bear the toughest conditions, and thrive.

"JIN! You're standing there in your pajamas STILL!"

Busted. Before he could even try to form an excuse, his mother moved across the intervening distance and smashed him over the back of the head with the wooden spoon she had been stirring this mornings concoction of meats and herbs into a palatable porridge. "What were you doing?" Ai demanded.

"Uh...I wasn't sleeping?"

"Get dressed right now and go see your father! He's been waiting for you on the overlook for the past half-hour!" Jin's mother, Ai, had given him most of her looks but thankfully none of her mannerism. For all her stern words, she would never in all her life raise her voice. At least, thats what Jin always thought to himself.

"Yes Hahaowai..."

With a sigh, he began to slide his foot through the irksomely weighted leg of his training suit.

"Oh and Jin? It's been four weeks."

Outwardly, the Michisuji heir winced, inwardly he screamed "NOT FAIR!" But in the end, he had no choice. With four weeks past, his time with this set of weights had come to an end. It would now rise to such levels he couldn't even put it into comparison of his body weight.

His mother came over and performed a set of seals much to fast for even Jin's practiced eyes to follow. Then, she touched the suit and murmured "Fuuin: Buatsui Fukyuu" (Seal: Forever Heavy). Instantly, Jin couldn't even hold the suit up off the ground.

He glared at his mother, who smiled sweetly back to him, "Your father is waiting."

He hurriedly dressed into his regular attire, throwing on his grey non-descript pants and his green kimono styled vest over the black body clinging weight suit. As he dashed, dashed being a relative term as the new weight increase slowed him to a crawl, he grabbed one of the white cloaks his family stacked near the exit of their tent home.

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Stepping out of the tent was a nightmare. Immediately off of the weight distribution provided by the many rugs of the tent/house Jin sank up to his thighs in the snow. It only made it worse that 3 of the other Michisuji teens were walking by at that same time, and burst into laughter when Jin seemed to grow shorter then his regular 6 foot tall frame.

"Haha! The girl's so fat that she can't even walk through the snow!"

"You idiot, how many time do we have to tell you Jin isn't a girl... he just looks like one!"

That brought a new chorus of laughter, some even from a few nearby Michisuji hunters carrying a freshly slain mountain goat between them. Jin however, was not pleased. While in fact he was built very femininely with long and slender limbs and a toned rather then large muscle structure, he was stronger (and faster) then either of those laughing at his expense, adults included.

Clenching his fists in anger more for show then anything, Jin played along in order to pay the teens back in full. "Oi! Come over here and we'll see whose fat, Shoari!"

Among nomads, bulky people were rare. And people of Shoari's girth were simply unheard of, the 15 year old weighed nearly twice as much as Jin himself did, and was a good foot and a half shorter. The end result was a fat, ugly kid whose face looked akin to a pink balloon with ears and had an ego to counteract every one of his faults. Normally, this would have made him the butt of all jokes for the commune, but quite the contrary, he was the resident bully and corrupting mentor.

Most days, Jin wouldn't have given Shoari and his goons a second thought, but today he was nursing the mountain size headache gifted to him by his mother and he was carrying enough weight through his suit to cause a small landslide. So, simply enough Jin let his actions speak louder then his words...

"Suiton: Yuki Shuuha!" (Water Element: Snow Wave)

Three sets of eyes glared daggers at him through a newly formed snowbank as he trudged through the snow towards the overlook, veritably dragging his legs as opposed to taking steps.

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The trek from the camp to the small cliff overlooking a large frozen valley took the better part of yet another half-hour; increasing the time of which his father had waited for the young Michisuji and more then likely increasing the ire the young man would have to face once he got within vocal(or technique) range. What he wasn't expecting was his father calmly waiting for him.

"It took you long enough, Jin." Iyashu Michisuji scolded his son.

" Gomen, Chichiuwai."

"No matter. This day was one I would have hoped in delaying as long as possible. Jin, I have but two things to say to you; The first is that you have always been my pride and joy, despite your foibles you have been as good a son as I could have ever wanted. The Michisuji are not opulent, but I can only offer you this."

Iyashu reached behind his back and brought forth a sheathed sword, looking to be about 40 inches in length and had no curve. With a simple toss, he sent the weapon through the air. Jin caught it and immediately felt the strength and craftsmenship apparent within the sword. "Tousan...where did you get this..."

"I called in a favor from an old friend."

The young man looked strangely at his father, who began to briskly walk towards him. "What was the other thing you had to say?"

Arms length away, Jin's father halted and looked down past his son. "I am afraid that there is just simply no time left to tell you. You must take this as well, " from a deep pocket Iyashu produced a hitai-ite the likes of which Jin had never seen. The forehead protector was completely blank. "The Michisuji are welcomed within all but one of the Hidden Villages..--

"Konoha?" Jin piped up, anxious to try to learn a little more of the ever enigmatic circumvention of the prosperous country.

"No. The damnable Village of the hidden Sound. Listen to me Jin there isn't much time," the older man looked back the way his son had come as if he had seen or heard something, " When you awake, you must take this hitai-ite to Konoha, only there can you realize the chance that it affords you."
"What? Why?... wait.. Awake? Chichiuwai what are you talking about I just got up..."

"Promise me Jin!" There was something in Iyashu's voice, something that sounded desperate and almost pleading to his son, "Promise me you will do as I say..."

For a moment, the young nomad stopped to examine the entire situation. Here, his father, the most stern and strict man Jin had ever come across in his entire life was all but pleading with his son to follow his wishes like they were his last testament.

Wait...last testament?

"Tousan, what's going on?"

"I am sorry Jin. Make me proud."

The last thing he saw was his fathers hand, flattened into a practice chop heading for his neck. Then he was welcomed into oblivion in unconsciousness.

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"I am glad you wore the white cloak. For with it, you are safe from prying eyes."

Iyashu brought his right hand up to his mouth and bit his thumb. He quickly ran through a set of well rehearsed and often used seals. He then brought his palm down to the ground and muttered, "Kuchiyose no Jutsu."

A silver dragon sprang up out of the ensuing smoke, bearing a scroll on it's back between two nearly invisible filament wings. The dragon, the Ice prince dragon Katahskai, looked at the elder Michisuji while he reached up to sratch his snout with it's right paw. His blue eyes looked tired as he asked, " So, it's time then? He's come for the lot of you?"

Iyashu nodded sagely, "Before we go, I wish to prepare a few things for my son..."

The dragon watched a few of the clouds drift, seemed uninterested, but listening. "I wish to sign him onto the contract."

"What! Never before have the Ryuu clan consented to a continous line, what you ask is perposterous! It can't be done, that is something that is out of my hands. You know this Iyashu."

"I am not his blood relative."

"What? But the eye..."

"He is the result of the last true one to bear his name. When he was removed, I filled the void left by his disappearance as both Father and Husband. That however does not matter now, may I sign him to the contract?"

"If he is of the caliber you are, young one, then he may very well pass the requirements when he first calls forth his own. That is something neither you nor I can predict."

Reaching onto his back, Katahskai presented the elder Michisuji with the afformentioned contract. Jin's father used his sons hand to open the scroll, then from the holster strapped to his leg like so many other shinobi, he produced a kunai with which he cut a small slash in his sons finger to write his name onto the ancient parchment. Touching each finger to the source of blood, he sealed the contract with his sons own hand print.

What came next would forever tie the Michisuji to the Ryuu, wether they despised favoritism or not. "Now, as a final request I would ask that you retain this box...for him."

"We've done such things before..yet I must ask what it contains before I burden my brethern with it."

"Our way." Iyashu replied, all the intonation and severity in his voice highlighting that this was the techniques and abilities that Jin had yet to learn, for the Michisuji were far from simple nomads, if present day course of events had not already illustrated so.

"Ah."

"I will leave the contract with him, so that he may be with some guidance in what lies ahead. I trust that is acceptable?"

The dragon had returned to gazing at the sky, it was all the answer the exiled shinobi would ever need.

"Let's go."

With a flash, the dragon transformed into a sparkling Yari spear which leapt into the waiting hands of Iyashu. That done, he began to walk back towards the small cluster of tents that was his and his families home. A few steps back, he stopped once to look over his shoulder at the prone for of his son.

"Goodbye Jin."

A wind came up, stirring the power snow from the ground, obscuring all vision. When it died down, Iyashu was no longer there and Jin was a small speck of white in a sea of snow.

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"So. You were actually here, yeah."

"I told you he would be here, didn't I? Kukukuku..."

A flash of electricity crackled off of the end of the Yari, the only response not caught by the wind was, "Orochimaru..."