AN: Thank you to those who have read this and an extra thanks to those following and favorited. I'm changing the rating cause as I got to thinking about it, the story might not have epic 'Boom chicka' scenes lol BUT if it ends up happening I'll rate appropriately! Please enjoy and review!
~Many years later~
A little girl, she could have been eleven or twelve, lay in a meadow smlling with her eyes closed as the sun washed over her. Next to her was a basket half full of various herbs and flowers.
Her mother had sent her out to collect things for supplies. They lived a simple life in the land of mountains. An obsure woman and daughter who healed people from the nearby small village.
The little girl loved her home, but something felt missing. Her mother had trained her in healing remidies, taught her ninjutsu and taijutsu, and also had promised to teach her genjutsu later. She loved all things ninja and would often ask her mother if they could move to one of the nearby hidden villages. So that she could train, and join a proper squad.
Her mother would get this brief look of longing on her face before she would adamantly tell her no. That she had left that life for a reason, but when asked why, would only say 'because!'.
Laying in that meadow she would imagine missions with her comrades. Fantastical adventures filled with fighting, mystery, and the inevitable ending when her squad would triumph over their enemy and come back to bring victory to the village and make their kage proud.
Her mother had told her about some of the villages and what kinds of jutsus they could weild. The Mist could create giant water dragons, the stone could levitate. The earth could manipulate the very landscape. The fire could breath fire and the wind were known for the use of giant fans and their infamous puppet corps. And then intermixed amoung them all were all sorts of other types. Like the dog-nin, bug users, shinobi who used special blades, and many more. Her mother spoke of contracts with ninja animals Like the giant slug that could heal and spit acid. Or the giant toads and snakes. Even a man who had a giant oyster that she had heard of in the last great war. And then there were the jinchuriki!
She had heard that they were terrible beasts at one time but eventually grew to like their hosts and had been apart of a pivotal turning point in the end that eventually led to the victory of the Allied nations.
One day she was going to become a ninja to a great village. She had trained with many weapons, and her mother would introduce more to her once she mastered or decided that a certain weapon was not for her. Currently her favorite one were a pair of fans, made of chakra blades.
Her mother had got them from a traveling merchant who had said they came from Suna. She remembered her mother inspecting the weapons carefully, and how she had smiled. 'Your very lucky I know the maker, or else I might think you were trying to cheat me.' The merchant had smiled, trying to look innocent, but he had very observant eyes. As if he might recognize her mother.
Little did the nearby people know, her mother didn't look like how she presented herself to the world. The world saw a woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes. Who tied a bandana around her forehead. That was to hide a small diamond mark on her forehead. Her mother really had the most beautiful emerald eyes she had ever seen, and her hair was actually pink!
It was so cool, she had asked why she was hiding, and was only told that it was so no one would find her. Because for reasons she would not share, she had left her village, but she had kept tabs on what her village thought. At first being M.I. A and then a few years later declared K.I.A, or killed in action.
Her mother also made her hide her features. Mostly her hair. Which was a deep crimson that hung thick and unruly down to just below her bottom. And she was never called by her first name around others, Only her middlename, Sayuri. For her protection, but that her first name was very important, and she should never forget it because one day it could help her.
For what her mother never said.
Sayuri also had a secret, anther that her mother insisted she keep secret. Saying that it was rare, and it could be trouble for them. Because people might come and take her away, and try to use her to do bad things.
She could manipulate sand. Sometimes she couldn't control it, if something seemed like it was going to attack her a wall might appear next to her, or streams of the sand would fly up and fend off a barrage of whatever was attacking her.
The first time it had happened was when she was just starting to learn the use of weapons. Her mother had introduced shuriken into their training regime. She had tripped a wire and a barrage of the ninja stars came flying at her and she had closed her eyes panicking only to open then a moment later to see she had been protected by a wall of sand. Her mother had been standing there her eyes wide with tears falling and a hand over her mouth.
It was then her mother told her she must not let anyone know she could do that, and to avoid it at all costs.
Among other weapons she could use with adept efficiency included senbon, a katana, a staff, kunai, shuriken, and as a side just to see if should could do it—puppets.
That had been one of the first skills she had learned. Her mother deemed it a safe tool to learn how to control her chakra. She even had a little puppet that she would take on her adventures, her little partner in crime. It was a simple wooden doll nearly the same size as she was. It had joints and moveable fingers so she could practice to improve her intricate dexterity.
The little girl turned to lay on her belly and rest her chin on her crossed arms. She sighed and a moment later got up and grabbed her basket.
She worked in relative silence for the next hour. Sometimes humming sometimes just listening to the world. Soon her basket was full of all the herbs and wild vegetables her mother needed so she started the long trek home.
The sun was starting to set and she knew that with darkness brought dangers that she was unable to conquer. One being her mothers wrath if she walked in too late.
As the forest grew dense around her she also noticed a strange sound coming from off to the side. It sounded like fighting. She could distinctly hear the tell-tale sounds of weaponry as they hit each other with the 'shing' sound as the metal slid or hit eachother.
Curiosity getting the better of her she adjusted to coverlet that hid her long hair from sight and hid her basket to retrieve it on her way back. She took to the trees to quiet her steps and masked her chakra. Basic stealth tactics her mother had made sure she knew, just in case. Using the leaves as cover she made her way closer. There were four men surrounding another. She recognized the four from her village. Men who were often seen comng out of the local tavern. Dirty and angry, bumping into anyone and then yelling at them. The other was in an all black suit with a hood that looked like cat ears and he had purple markings on his face. She squinted looking closely at his headband, he was from the land of wind.
She watched with rapt attention, this was the most exciting thing she had ever seen! Real ninja's! she knew the men from the village near by were ninja too, but she didn't think they had counted because her mother had said they were undisciplined, and were not real good examples for what real shinobi should act like.
"What's Sand scum doing so far away from it's sandbox?", One of the men sneered.
She saw the man with the purple face paint smirk, "Listen, I don't want any trouble, but if you insist. I don't have a problem." He grinned then, and cracked his knuckles. Flexing his fingers in a way that she was familiar with.
'A puppet user!' she thought, just now noticing the bundles on his back. She edged closer trying to get a better look without being discovered.
Another man growled and yelled, "We'll see about that!" and then all four of them lept at the man with the painted face.
Her eyes could barely keep up with their movements as they started up again. Then there was a clacking sound like wood hitting eachother and she saw the puppet flying through the air. The man with the painted face was no where to be seen, but she knewhe was close. Hidden while his puppet did the work for him. In short work he had taken out two of the four attackers without a problem. She was amazed and transfixed by the whole thing. It was a beautiful thing to watch. This man manipulated the weaponized doll in a way that seemed effortless.
Suddenly there was a grunt and the painted man fell from the tree he was hiding in. He was prone on the ground. She wondered why he wasn't moving until she saw the dart in the back of his shoulder.
"Not to cocky now are ya Sand scum!" One of the men kicked the hooded man, who grunted.
She frowned in distaste. This was wrong and cowardly. The other man joined on on insulting the paralyzed man and began to kick him as well.
It wasn't long before she could see the painted man swelling and bruising his face was bloodied and he looked like he was barely conscious.
Thinking fast she snuck forward and let her fingers flex as her chakra formed strings of her own she attached them to the abandoned puppet and took a few moments to get a feel for it. Letting her chakra tell her where the triggers were, what weapons it might have, and then she struck, it was quick drawing out one of the arms with an attached knife she stuck it through one of the attackers. This started the other who stepped back and was looking frantically around as the puppet moved to strike him as well.
He was clumsy now, tired from exerting himself bullying the painted faced man. He was too focused on the puppet that he didn't see the metallic glint of a rotating fan as it zoomed through the air and cut him deeply in the back from behind. He fell to his knees and then faceplanted onto the forest floor.
Retrieving her fan, and the painted mans puppets she used her inherited strength and pulled him over her shoulder, grunting at the weight she did her best to carry him home without causing more injury. Leaving her basket behind she could get it tomorrow.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
That girl was going to be the death of her, she was staring out the window as the sun rode the horizon. She frowned taking a sip of tea scowling at the forest surrounding their home.
"That girl knows to be home before dark!" She turned to finish making their supper absently hoping that her daughter hadn't run into any trouble. She had tried to give her as much freedoms as she could, but she knew there would come a day when her daughter would rebel. She was too independent. Much like she had been at that age, and her father.
Sakura sighed. One day she would tell her. But not yet. She couldn't. Thirteen years later and the pain was still as fresh in her heart as it was the day she set out across the desert sands.
"MOM!" Sakura whipped her head to look out the window hearing her daughter's fantic call. "MOOOMMMMM!" She was carrying something, or someone.
Running outside she made her way to her daughter, what she saw had her stopping in her tracks, her heart in her throat.
"K…Kan..Kankuro?"