Okay guys, we're into the real story now. But before we dive head first, I need to say a few things, first of all being that these are all probably going to be short chapters like the previously posted by myself. If you don't like so, don't hesitate to rally together and get a petition going with the very few other viewers. I would really change it if you guys requested. But it would mean getting larger chunks of story with larger gaps between posts.

I just don't want to bore you guys with ridiculously long posts. I tend to not appreciate work when I have so much of it to sift through. I just want to keep these babies shorter and sweeter. But it also means that sometimes there will be boring bits, like this one.

Beware! It is boring!

Chapter #1: Enter Yoshin Rasha

Bring! Briiiiiing! Briiiiiiiiiiiing!

The alarm clock screeched its ear-splitting call as it danced upon the bedside table. Still rumbling, it maneuvered itself to the edge of the precipes and pivoted precariously for a second before plunging to its inevitable doom two feet below. It landed with a final-Bring!

A small blot snapped away from the wreckage and rolled across the bamboo floor panels. Its journey halted in the center of the apartment room where, once out of steam, it whirled around in a circle before falling flat on the ground. The room was bare, close to empty, and consisted entirely of a fridge, an old wooden table and chair, a metal stove, and a bed beside a single window and closet. A bathroom door was also visible in the dim light from the window.

In the bed lay a bundle of blankets, twisted and wound in a tight spiral. From within the mound somewhere, deep breathing could be heard as the beds occupant finally began to wake. The tangled mass turned and withered across the squeaky mattress. Spring coils compressed and groaned under the weight of their captive. Finally a pale arm broke free or the prison, groping for air. The rest of the boy quickly followed the arm as he pulled his legs out of the mess and sat hunched over the side of his bed.

His wispy black hair fell onto his forehead and his bangs in front of his sunken, thin face. Wearing only pajama bottoms, the boy's body could easily be mistake for that of a gymnast. His lean muscles were relaxed as he ran his hands through his hair. Looking down at what his toe had bumped on the floor, he spied the shattered alarm clock and sighed meekly while shaking his head in amusement at the device.

With a small heave he hoisted himself out of bed and gingerly kicked the mangled clock under the bed. He strolled barefoot over to the closet, passing in front of the window and momentarily dousing the room in shadow. Once there he dove deep into the closet with his chiseled arms, digging for particular apparel.

With a smug look on his face he withdrew holding a black, wrinkled outfit. Carrying it by one of the many straps belted across it, he went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Water could be heard running through the pipes as he showered and bathed.

A paper pinned on the wall rustled slightly as a cool breeze from the open window jostled it. The paper reading in handwritten words:

"We the Kages of the Village Hidden in Shadow, Yorizaru, have deemed Yoshin Rasha acceptable in the rudimentary skills and knowledge required of an Academy Student. Congratulations. "

Rasha emerged from the bathroom fully clothed in his black outfit. A simple, form fitting t-shirt and shorts, accented by the various pouches and leather straps running across the shirt from shoulder to opposite hip. He dusted off his uniform, admiring the handiwork of the seamstress; he had had the suit custom made for his body.

After sitting back on the mattress he coiled his arms in black bandage tape from his exposed forearm to knuckle. He flexed his arms, testing the fabric, before standing and flipping over his mattress. Beneath lay an array of weapons and ninja tools; razor-edged kunai, a handful of sharp mikibishi, smoke bombs, shuriken, and a small pouch of senbon needles.

Rasha pocketed all but the senbons; knowing that they would be useless to him without more experience. Once his deadly arsenal was packed in the according pouches and holsters, Rasha, ignoring the door, turned to the window. As he sat upon the ledge he his eyes locked onto the door leading out of his room directly across the room; it had been nailed shut by many dusty wooden boards.

A strange look crossed Rasha's sharp, gray eyes; a combination of regret and frustrated indifference.

With a twist of his waist, he dropped from his second story room and into the dirt street below. He landed in a crouched and, using his momentum from the bounce, pushed off with his heels and was down the street like a shot. Once up to sprinting speed, Rasha tucked his head down below his shoulder line and tucked his midsection downwards. The end result was his head being three feet from the ground and his spinal column straight as a pole. His forward momentum, coupled with his unbalanced position tilting forward and his already built up speed, tripled his already blinding pace.

As the wind rippled his skin, Rasha smiled smugly. He was the fastest in his class by far; at top speeds like now he could easily outstrip all of his classmates twice over. By contacting the ground with only the balls of his feet, pumping his legs ferociously, and keeping his torso rigged, he had developed his own style of running. He was still working out the turning; at such speeds taking corners became perilously dangerous.

Rasha wasn't sure why he never showed his skills. In class, amongst others, he had never done anything but what was expected, never showing any of his true potential. He had a feeling that if he ever had to fight anyone in his own class, they would have little information on his abilities. Combining that lack of information on him, and the underestimation of him just being the "kid in the back of class", he would have a definite advantage over any of his peers.

Rasha leapt upwards and ricocheted off a building, back over the street, and onto a slanted rooftop, still moving. He pounded down the shingles, his sandals striking the plaster with unabated vengeance.

"Today is the day."

After three arduously long months of training amongst as colorful menagerie of fools you could muster, he would finally be moving on. Today was his chance to excel in front of the others, hence his weapon weighted outfit. If he passed today's final test he placed in a three-man team and trained alongside a Jounin; together they would perform actual missions for the village. It was the end of books, class clowns, and unendurably long hours spent inside.

"Genin. I can't wait!"

The red-roofed building that was his Academy School grew bigger with each blurred step before-

"Screeeech!"

Ten feet of skid marks in the dirt led to the standing position of Rasha; his arms crossed as he stared with murderous intent at the building in front of him. His cold gray eyes calculated and his mind worked away within. It would be the last time he looked upon the building as a student, inferior and unworthy. Today was the day for taking his first step towards many things; advancement in mind and body, self-sufficiency, and revenge.

"Here. Today. Now!"

Thanks for playing along, Rasha