A/N: I use some very odd slang in Mikomi's speech, like think-space, straight-swing, pervy-talk, peeker-brain and tree-fly. And, though I know I shouldn't, MUST begin my AVATAR story or I swear to High Kami I WILL explode!

I stood in the hospital lobby waiting for my mother to come out of the examination room. She had been waiting on the outskirts of the village when the team Kankuro had called carried the mysterious girl into the village. I idly looked into the mirror on the wall of the lobby, and thought about how I could possibly get any guy, let alone Gaara. Sure I had pretty, straight features, but I thought my nose was a bit long. My lips were somewhat thin, but they were well shaped. They were a light beige. This was expected, though, since my skin was paler than Gaara's was, but not milky white. More like Jamie Rae (A type of pale pink rose). My hair was beautiful, long and black as a starless night. It flowed to just above my knees since I didn't want to cut it. The strange thing was, the last foot was a sunny, shiny gold. So were the tips of my hair, which fell over my eyes.

My eyes were the part of my face I thought were strangest. They were a golden-green, not quite hazel, not quite green, yet they had occasional strips of gray throughout. I had slit pupils, like a cat. While I had thick, long black eyelashes, the eye of the beholder was always attracted to the light purple marks around my eyes. They looked like eyeliner and eyeshadow, totally permanent. It looked kind of cool, but I must admit that I also looked like a scene kid. I am also very short. I have been five feet tall exactly for about five years, since I turned ten. I have tiny feet and hands, long thin fingers, and sharp nails. I generally wear a purple colored shirt and black pants off-duty. Oh, and I have retractable fangs full of a paralytic poison that kills in a large enough dose. And I mustn't forget my extending tongue. Oh yes, I have one. Quite useful at times, really, but I know it freaks people out. I was taught the way to activate it when I was three, and constantly used it for years as an alternative to getting up and opening the cabinets of weapons or the fridge.

The light on the examination room sign flicked off and my mother walked out. "Mom?"

She looked at me and gave her quiet, kindly smile. "I have managed to heal her eyes. Luckily for her, she merely had a lot of sand and dust in them. Her arm and leg will be kept in a cast for the next few weeks. They are very fragile and could snap at any time. Her ribs are merely bruised, and, in some stroke of luck, there was no major internal bleeding. I want you to stay with her."

"Huh? Why me? I have to stand border patrol."

My mother shook her head the way she always did when she thought I was being particularly blockheaded. "Silly girl, I already spoke to the Kazekage. He told me that it was fine, but you couldn't go on another mission for a month. Go sit in there with her. From what I can tell, she's barely eighteen. She may even be seventeen or sixteen."

I knew it. "Alright, mom, but I want to examine her sword."

"Take it with you."

facepalm. "Riiiight."

I sat on a bench in the corner of the hospital room. The girl slumbered away quietly in the bed by the window. I had taken about fifteen minutes to lug the humongous sword into the room without slicing open the floor (and my leg). I had no idea how this girl could possibly lift it, let alone carry it on her back with a broken leg. She had been dressed in a regulation hospital gown, but my mother had the decency to put on two, back to front, so that when she woke up and began walking, her behind wouldn't poke out of the back.

Her hair was splayed all over the pillow. It was definitely weird. Most of it was black. However, the stripes of blue, free from the dirt, sand and blood that had caked them, proved to be such a bright blue that they looked like ice. Her mouth was now shut, and I noticed how her fangs didn't show through or poke over her lips. I could understand this with mine, as they are small, barely half an inch longer than my normal teeth when I fully extend them. But hers? They were a full inch and a half long! She had a pair of inch-long ones on her lower jaw as well, for crying out loud! I turned my attention to her ridiculous sword. Beautiful metal, well crafted. A blade built by a master, definitely. The Momochi symbol was driving me nuts.

I pressed the button for the nurse. A young civilian came in and asked, "Do you need something, Miss Mikomi?"

I answered with the air of someone who couldn't believe they had to ask. "Yes, I need a bingo book to look up the patient's origins."

The nurse nodded and walked to the assassin ANBU outside the door. He came in a minute later, handed me a slim black book, and left without a word. I flicked to M.

"Michi, Mikoto, Momochi! Here we go!"

I looked at the shot of Zabuza Momochi. I flipped the page. Nothing. The N's started two pages later, after Murasaki. The only Momochi in the book was Zabuza. "Damn!"

I would just have to wait until she woke up to find out who she was. Her eyes were bandaged, since my mother thought they might still be sensitive to light at first. I yawned and rubbed the back of my neck. A soft knock sounded on the door.

"Come in."

Gaara walked in, and I stood up to attention. He sat down on the chair next to me and said, "As you were." I sat back down and he continued. "Have you found anything?"

I shook my head and sighed. "I looked in the bingo book, but there isn't anyone who looks like her in it. I thought she might be a relative of Zabuza Momochi of Mist, but I couldn't find anything. I did notice a whited-out strip in the book on Zabuza's page under 'Relatives', but that could just be a parent. Anyway, until I know her name, we're at a dead end, sir."

Gaara frowned slightly, stood and turned his head to look at the girl. "How old do the doctors say she is?"

"Anywhere from sixteen to eighteen."

He turned back to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. "Keep trying, Mikomi. I am sure you can figure this puzzle out."

He turned on his heel and silently slipped out the door. I watched his retreating back, then turned to the girl. I sighed, rewrapped the sword in the bandages I had gotten from the Puppet Corps, and settled myself down to sleep.

After three days, the girl began to stir in her sleep. My mother dragged me out of the sushi bar down the street before I finished my lunch. I tried to swallow my last tempura shrimp as I was thrown into the hospital room. My mother whirled around and began hissing instructions.

"Tell her where she is, how bad her injuries were, caution her about her eyes, which are still bandaged, tell her who you are, and be sure to ask her name. The IV has a sleeping drug in it that I want you to use on her once you have her name. Take it to the Analyzer Corps as soon as she's asleep again"

She left, and I turned my attention to the stirring figure in the hospital bed. I felt her chakra spike as she jerked awake. He good arm moved up to feel at the bandage covering her eyes. I slipped up my hand and gently removed hers from her face, then spoke in the soothing tone you use on hurt animals and toddlers.

"Everything's alright. You are in Sunagakure hospital right now. You were found outside the eastern entrance. My mother, the chief medic here, healed your arm, leg, ribs and eyes. They are still bandaged because they may still be sensitive to light. My name is Mikomi. What's yours?"

I did my best to sound like a civilian. To my surprise, she answered clearly in a voice that sounded like chimes made of ice. She was still slightly stoned, probably unaware that she just gave a complete stranger her full name.

"My name is Yuki. Yuki Momochi. I want to get up."

I smiled, then pressed the IV control.

"I'll talk to you when you wake up again, Yuki. You still need rest."

"Kay..."

I left with the name Yuki Momochi. My guess was right.

I banged out of the Analyzer Corps building five minutes later, barely more knowledgeable than I was before. The idiots in the building looked up the name and turned up a four-year-old girl with no description that drowned in Mizugakure fourteen years ago. As the Yuki in the hospital was most definitely not four and totally alive, I called them a pack of dumb dogs and stormed out of the building, back to the hospital to wake her up. As I crashed through the door, slowing to a pissed off walk, I turned my thoughts to something that always comforted me: Memories of my father. They were fuzzy and feeble, but they were genuine memories. I stepped back into my memories, of the time before I came to Sunagakure, the year I turned three.

A flash of my father laughing, his snowy-pale face alive below me as he threw me into the air, then his long black hair splayed on the ground as I tackled him, only to find myself upside-down, hung by the ankles from his large, long hands. My big brother, whom I hadn't seen since Mom and I had to leave my birthplace, sitting on my father's broad shoulders as I jumped for the ice cream cone my dad held above his head, out of reach of me, with my brother already licking his own, getting it all over his nose. Every memory was further blurred by near-constant rain. I then proceeded to trip over the doorjamb outside Yuki's room. Typical. She was awake, and her eyes widened as she took in my appearance. Her mouth became a small O of surprise. I guess she thought I wouldn't look like a creepy snake that stayed inside all the time. She blinked and quickly closed her mouth. I giggled and sat on the side of her bed.

"You have every right to be shocked. My appearance is at odds with my voice. How are you feeling?"

She blinked again, then gave a small smile. "Oh, fine. I am a bit bored with this hospital bed and I'm a little hungry, but otherwise alright. Nanaho-sama changed the casts for some braces. I heal fast. You, uh... look a little angry."

"I just have to deal with idiots who haven't got any think-space in their heads."

"Think-what?'

I gave a tiny smile. Many people don't understand my personal brand of slang at first. "Think-space is my slang for someone's ability to think. It's okay, most people don't get it at first."

She nodded, her striped hair bobbing on her back. She then proceeded to stretch her back and say, "Am I allowed to get up and about yet? My legs are falling asleep sitting here."

I turned around and called out to the hall for the clothes that were made for her. I saw her bright fanged grin out of the corner of my eye, but she would speak without hardly moving her lips. I guess I wasn't meant to see the fangs. As I turned back around, I asked, "How old are you? the doctors weren't sure whether you were sixteen or around eighteen."

"I'm eighteen. You?"

"Fifteen, but I'm Jonin. Are you?"

She looked shocked. "A Jonin at fifteen? Wow. I'm a Jonin, but I've only been one for a year or two. "

I smirked, pleased. "I spent almost all my time training as a child. Most of my friends are some years older than me. I think the closest one I have is about your age, Yuki. Her name is Temari. You may like her."

Yuki looked at me with a question in her eyes as the nurse came in with the light blue and black clothes Mom had ordered made. "What's she like, this...Temari?"

"She's very athletic and smart, but she also has a volatile temper and a tendency to trip over her own ankles. Like you do, she uses a larger-than-normal weapon, in her case a fan made of steel. I haven't the slightest clue how she can carry that thing and still tree-fly without pulling a straight-swing."

Yuki laughed behind the curtain where she was changing. "I guess that means you can't believe she can carry her fan and run through trees without falling over from the counterweight, right?"

"Sharp as an ANBU blade, you are. Are you ready yet?"

Her head poked out from behind the curtain. She blew her blue bang out of her eye and said, "As soon as I have my sword and hitae-ate, I'll be ready."

I frowned. "Can we trust you with the sword? We also haven't seen a hitae-ate, otherwise we would already have informed your village leader."

Yuki looked a little shocked. "But-wait a minute-"

With that, she felt underneath the brace on her leg. "I found it! It's under my brace! I turned it inside out so that the metal wouldn't freeze!"

She proceeded to plop down on the chair and painstakingly dig it out of the brace. She finally pulled it out with an explosive "Ahaha!" I stared openly at the symbol etched on the metal. Mist...It all made sense. The giant sword, Mist was known for oversized weapons like that, the hair, Mist's village colors were blue, black and white. Her name...The Momochi were a once-powerful, supposedly now-extinct clan of silent killing masters from Mizugakure. Yuki saw my Tex-Avery unhinged jaw and said, "Oops. I guess you didn't know where I was from. Don't worry, my sympathies lie with the Leaf village, and thus with the Sand."

I sighed. What a relief. Mist was neutral for now, but different people in the village had different opinions. I handed her the sword (Well, more like flipped her the handle, there was no way I could pick that thing up) and watched her grab the carrier she had, place it on her back, and slot the sword into it with the ease of much practice, hefting the seven-foot steel blade as easily as if she was picking up a kunai. She saw me staring again and giggled. "Bit of a surprise, huh? Guess these swords aren't as heavy as they look! Let's go! Oh, can I call you Mikki? That is, if you don't mind?"

I blinked. No one had ever called me by a nickname except Temari, who constantly called me Imoto-chan, little sister. I, in turn, called her Onee-chan, big sister. My father had always called me his little hime, his princess, but nobody had wanted to call me a nickname that shortened my real one. They were all older, and more than a little afraid of me. So, I was by no means opposed to Yuki calling me Mikki. "Well, I, I, uh...sure! That'd be cool! Let's go walk around the village! I know a great shop with onigiri, natto and ramen we could go to!"

With that, I led the way out of the hospital room. Yuki followed, but tripped just outside the door where there was nothing but flat wood. She turned pink and muttered something that sounded like, "Stupid, stupid, stupid! How many Jonin trip over nothing on a regular basis"? There was a short silence, then she hissed under her breath, "Shut up, Osoreru." Hmmm...Osoreru...To fear? Weird. I decided then and there that I would find her a place to stay, then go sign up for Assassination Corps in official ANBU. What this meant was a). I got that awesome spiral tattoo, and b). I gained access to the library with all the books and scrolls on ancient legends, the Jinchuriki, Biju, and forbidden jutsu, and c). I probably would rarely leave the village, but get paid another thousand ryu a day!

As I finished that thought, I stopped in front of the brand-new Sunagakure branch of Ichiraku Ramen, run by the founder Teuchi's nephew. Yuki took one look and her eyes bugged out.

"Seriously? Ichiraku has a location in Suna! YEEEEHAAAAAHAHAHAHA!"

Wow. I was starting to wonder if she was bipolar. I said, "Well, we'll eat and then I can find you somewhere to stay, since you obviously don't need the hospital anymore. Hey, Satoshi!"

The owner of the ramen shop came over with a large smile on his face. "Hey, Mikomi! The usual for you today?"

I laughed. "Unless you have something new, yes! This is Yuki, by the way. She's visiting from Mizugakure."

Satoshi looked at Yuki and grinned wider, if that was even possible. He had a very visible blush on his cheeks, and he was grinning in an amazed way. "Hi! What kind of ramen do you want? I guess you're here with Mikomi, right?"

Yuki nodded. "Uh huh. What's Mikki gonna eat?"

Satoshi looked a little surprised a the nickname, but said, "Beef brisket and rice noodles in beef broth with extra onions and naruto."

Yuki nodded again. "That's my favorite kind of ramen too! I'll have the same thing, please!"

Satoshi nodded and walked off into the depths of the bar. At this point in time, Temari decided to show up out of the blue (or brown, since she popped out of the nearby shoe store). She saw me, yelled, "Imoto-chan!" and proceeded to glomp me. I fought to get free to breathe, and, being five feet tall and barely 90 pounds compared to her five foot eight and 125 pounds, I was having absolutely zero luck. So, I used what little air I had left, and said, "Onee-chan! Choking, not breathing!"

Temari backed off with an "Oops" and plonked into the bar stool next to me. She then looked at Yuki and said in her indomitable fashion, "So you're the weird girl that collapsed in front of the walls, huh?"

Yuki turned a slow but bright pink, whereas I nodded, elbowed Temari in the ribs, and hissed "Shut up, onee-chan. She's from Mist and her name is Yuki. Before you ask, she's eighteen."

At this point, Satoshi came back with Yuki's and my ramen. Temari greeted him with a grin and a softly shouted order for a miso ramen. She turned to me as he left again and asked, "So. Does Yuki have a place to stay?"

My mouth was stuffed with noodles. "Mphrglmph?"

As Temari rolled her eyes, I swallowed my noodles and said in an exasperated tone, "No. Not yet, anyway. Lemme eat, Mom didn't let me finish lunch for three whole days."

I continued to stuff my face with the delicious, succulent, soft noodles and savory beef and broth. Temari waited until I had swallowed another bite, then said, "Well, Kankuro has an extra bedroom and bathroom in that new apartment of his."

I began to choke on my noodles, whereas Yuki turned to Temari and asked, "How old is Kankuro-san?"

Temari clapped me on the back repeatedly as she told Yuki, "He's your age. Kankuro is my younger brother, but my youngest brother is the Kazekage."

Yuki's mouth became a small "O" again. She quickly recovered and asked, "Would he mind? I mean, I'm kind of clumsy..."

Temari laughed. "You can't be that bad. Kankuro's managed to trip over his own sandals once or twice a day for sixteen years, and only that since he learned to walk when he was two."

Yuki turned the color of a beet. "I, uh, well, I trip over nothing at all or else a nonexistant pebble almost all the time. I accidentally fell into a river when I was younger because I turned left instead of right."

I watched as Temari blinked slowly, swallowing her noodles and carefully wiping her mouth. "But you have that gigantic sword, how can-Ouch!" I elbowed her in the side. She took the hint and continued in a different vein. "I mean, you and Kankuro will get along just fine!"

About five minutes later, we had all finished our ramen. I paid Satoshi and motioned to Yuki to follow me. In the space of a short lunch, we had become fast friends. She seemed so familiar, like I already knew her, but that wasn't possible. I had never once been to Mist or Leaf. When I took the Chuunin exams, they were held in Iwagakure. I had been appalled at their extraordinarily militaristic lifestyle. Even the Suna ANBU had more freedom than the genin, though we had been under the Fourth Kazekage. I gave Yuki directions to Kankuro's with a quick letter explaining the situation. I told her that if he wasn't at his home, she should go to my mother and get help. She readily agreed and set off. I took to the rooftops, heading to the Kazekage Tower.

I decided to be polite for once and go in the front door instead of an upper window like usual, and, as I entered, immediately regretted that decision as I came across one of my least favorite people, Matsuri. She was Gaara's student, but everyone, except, probably, Gaara himself, knew she was head-over-heels for the redheaded Kazekage. She followed him everywhere, reminding me of a duckling that has mistaken a very male German Shepherd for its mother. I knew that, were Gaara not famous for being romantically oblivious, Matsuri would be either dead or living somewhere else. Even my mother, who I considered to be the most tolerant person I knew, was annoyed by Matsuri's sickly puppylove. She glared at me as I walked in, saying in a snide voice, "Can I help you, Mikomi?"

I considered telling her she could help me by getting the hell out of the country, but decided on a simple "No, thank you. I'm just going to see the Kazekage. Oh, by the way, that's Kin'iroame-san to you, Matsuri-chan."

I stalked up the stairs, hearing a strangled protest behind me. I smiled, and the secretary walking by jumped and squashed himself as close to the wall as possible. My smiles could be okay, but only when I felt kind. More often than not, my smiles appeared to scream one thing. As my mother had so aptly put it, "That smile of yours just screams 'Why don't we see what color your insides are, hm?'. Honestly, Mikomi, even your father couldn't grin that creepily. I'm sure you could beat the Kazekage in a glaring contest."

Speaking of which. I knocked softly on the door of Gaara's office. His gravelly, deep voice greeted me. "Enter."

I took a deep breath, then began the rest of my life.

A/N: Finally! Finished this chappie! Hooray! I did start my AVATAR story, so if you're interested, look it up on my profile!