A/N: Yay! Third Chappie! I am finally getting past the writer's block I have had for some months!

As I entered Gaara's office, I noticed three things. One, Gaara was not wearing his overrobe that was part of his Kazekage outfit. So, he was wearing only a pair of black pants and a dark blue shirt. Two, Gaara's everpresent gourd was neither on his back nor in the room at all. Three, the entire room smelled like apple blossom, a scent that was very rare in our desert village. He glanced up at me, then looked back at the paper he was reading, a mission report by the looks of it. "Mikomi-san. Do you need to discuss something with me?"

I nodded, head down. "Yes, Kazekage-sama. I wish to ask about transferring to ANBU, possibly in Assassination. I feel like I have been in the main assault core too long, and that my abilities would be better suited to ANBU."

He said nothing. So, I stood there waiting. Eventually, he put the paper down and folded his hands on top of the table. "ANBU, hm? Interesting. I had figured on a request like this, thus I have already prepared an answer. Mikomi, I think that you could be a very valuable ANBU. So, I will allow you to join on one condition."

"What's that, Kazekage-sama?"

"I need a Taijutsu tutor, and you have a fighting style appropriate for me to learn. I can't rely on my sand all the time, Mikomi. Now, why do you think I asked you to teach me?"

Teach him? I just about died right then and there. Then, once my head was back in order, I answered. "Well, sir, most other possible candidates are far older than I, but may not have as much experience. Also, my style is specially suited for people under six feet in height. You are how tall, sir?"

"Five foot three." He seemed a little disgruntled, but hey, he was the Kazekage. Generally, you don't expect a shinobi of that caliber to be short.

"Five foot three. You are a mere three inches taller than myself, making it difficult for you to fight someone taller and heavier without the aid of your sand."

"Correct. In this case, you have an intriguing ability to turn an enemy's superior height or weight against them. I would like to learn this. Will you consider it?"

"Sir, I... I don't need to consider it. I will teach you everything I know, if you will allow it. "

He nodded. "Good. Let's begin as soon as possible, say, tomorrow afternoon. Are you free?"

I was definitely free. To hell with the dentist! I'd go later, before dinner. "Of course, Kazekage-sama."

I turned to leave when Gaara called out, "Oh, Mikomi... Call me Gaara, please."

I exited his office with my nose full of apple blossom and my head full of Gaara's voice. He had asked me to call him Gaara. Gaara, not Kazekage-sama. I had always called him Gaara in my head, but I hadn't so much as spoken to him until he left his three-man cell and entered the main core under my command. Still, even then, I hadn't called him Gaara. As with the rest of the men I dealt with, I called him by his last name. He was Mr. Sabaku, just as the twenty-year-old Chunin named Mido was called Mr. Nakamura. As soon as Gaara entered ANBU, even for the short month he spent as an active member, he was known as Tenuki. Finally, when he became Kazekage, that's what we called him. And now here he was, asking me to be his personal Taijutsu trainer and call him by his first name.

My head was reeling, and I took the rooftops back home. My mother was there, sitting in her favorite chair by the window. She was talking to somebody, and, as I entered from my bedroom window, I recognized Yuki's distinctive ice-chime voice and sharp, clear laugh. I wandered downstairs slowly, making my way through the kitchen and grabbing a small snack of what I like to call sushi for carnivores, AKA tissue-cut raw sirloin. I sauntered into the living room where my mother and Yuki were, chewing slowly on a piece of meat. As I sat down on the floor, my mother smiled at me, both of us watching Yuki, how her nose twitched at the sight of my snack. Idly, I noticed that she had rather a lot of thick makeup over the marks on her cheeks. I could barely detect their shape. She spoke. "Hi, Mikki! I was just talking to your mom, I hope you don't mind. Uh...What're you eating?"

I grinned, forgetting momentarily that my teeth probably had a light sheen of blood on them at the moment. "I call it sushi for carnivores. Want some?" I said, holding out a piece of meat in my chopsticks.

Yuki grimaced, still not parting her lips. "Thanks, but no thanks, Mikki. I prefer fish or cooked meats. I don't really want to get something like worms."

I looked at my snack, setting it back on the plate gently. My mother smiled and said, "Well, nobody in this village has gotten worms of any kind, and Mikomi has never gotten sick from eating that stuff as she has since she was a little girl."

I went back to eating as Yuki and Mom discussed what sounded like medical something-or-other. I couldn't really tell, I only knew basic field medicine and had always cared more for swords and other lethal weapons than medicines. I swallowed a piece of meat and broke into their conversation when Yuki stopped speaking to catch her breath. "Mom, you'll never believe what happened to me a couple minutes ago!"

My mom raised an eyebrow. "You realized you were eating raw meat covered in blood?"

I raised a thin black eyebrow in return, mirroring her expression perfectly. "No. I spoke with the Kazekage."

"And that means you got in trouble again?" My mother just didn't get it.

"Uh, no. Okay, to make a long story short, I was asked to A) become his private Taijutsu tutor and B) call him by his first name."

My mother blinked. "Ah, I see. How's that little crush of yours holding up?"

I exploded, "MOM! I do NOT have a little crush!" and yet I knew my face was the color of my snack. Meanwhile, Yuki watched the exchange with no expression on her face. Then, she burst out laughing. Mom and I both turned to stare at her. She totally didn't notice her exposed cat fangs. I had a petulant pout on my face as I said, "What?"

She proceeded to fall off her chair. "Y-you-haha....You looked just like En-"

Here she stopped, her face falling. "Nothing. Sorry."

I raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "Uh-huh. Sure. Anyway, I need to go to the library. Oh, by the way, Gaara also gave me clearance to enter ANBU."

Before my mother could protest, I swallowed my last piece of meat and did my Instantaneous Transport jutsu, disappearing with a fading outline.

I reappeared onto the top of the ANBU building, flipping down through an open window into the small, dark room I already knew was the recruitment office. A man, face in shadow, sat behind the desk, flipping through a small sheaf of papers. He looked up as I silently swung myself onto the floor. He spoke, his voice quiet, all emotion unreadable. "You must be the Kin'iroame girl, hm? I must say I am impressed. You are very quiet. This is good for an ANBU."

I stood cautiously. I was in my own village, but who knew just what went on in this dark building. I should not have been so worried. The man directed me out the nearby door, through a hall and into a small white room. Having grown up with a medic for a mother, I recognized a sterile environment when I saw one. A man sat on a straight-backed chair, soaking a needle in a tub of clear liquid. I realized that this was a tattoo needle. The man, who was about forty-five, had average chakra, but I could tell he wasn't a shinobi by the chair he sat in. As I entered farther into the room, I saw that it was a wheelchair. He smiled kindly, gesturing to me to sit on the small pouf near him. "Hello, child. Don't worry, if you're ANBU caliber, this shouldn't hurt in the slightest."

I sat on the little cushion, rolling up my right sleeve. The man swabbed my arm gently with a cloth, carefully covering every inch of skin on my shoulder so that everything was clean. He then took a cloth stencil off a tray, soaking it in the liquid. The spiraling shape cut into the cloth caught my eye. It wasn't any longer than a pencil, in fact, it was shorter. The tattoo artist carefully smoothed the stencil onto my skin, then picked up the needle. He put it into the tattoo machine, then turned to me. "Would you rather have red or black ink?"

I blinked, then replied. "Uh...Red. Please." I hadn't been aware that you could get different colors.

He smiled, inserted an ink cartridge into the machine and turned it on. He put it to my skin, pushed it slightly, and began. I merely felt a slight tingle, and it was over in a matter of moments. The man bound it carefully with clean bandages, cautioning me about its care. I thanked him, leaving the room. I was stopped short by the appearance of a bird-masked ANBU carrying a plain box. He looked at my bandaged shoulder, nodded, and mutely handed me the box. I carefully scanned its contents by scent. Nothing dangerous, not that I smelled. I looked up, and the bird-mask ANBU was gone. I opened the box in the dark, pleasantly cool hallway. Inside were four different masks, several paint pots, different thickness brushes and a note. The note read "To our newest agent: Pick one of these masks, paint a design, and pick an acceptable code name. It will be known to your cell commander. Good Luck!"

I shuffled the masks. One was a dog. Ick, no. Anybody ever heard of dog breath? Another was a, uh, well, I didn't know what it was , but it looked a lot like a cat-eared chicken. A griffin, maybe. That just wasn't me. A catlike mask appeared. Hm, possibly. I had always liked cats. Then, the last mask stole my breath. It wasn't the typical ANBU mask. It was catlike in general design, but the eyes were more almond-shaped and the ears rounded, like a lion's. It was cut off just below the nose. Perfect for someone like me, unusual and distinctive, but easy to make low-key. I picked it up, turning it over in my fingers. It was made of fine porcelain, lightweight and thin. Still, it was chakra-enhanced, strong beyond belief.

A name popped into my brain, almost like it had been told to me by another entity. Shiku, Lion's Roar. I took the paints and brushes, already planning my design. Yellow around the eyes, a black-lined cat nose, red in the ears, with a swirl of purple circling partway around the left ear. I closed the box, opening a nearby door and placing the other three masks on a convenient table. I entered the room, where bright sunlight streamed through the window, then swung out of the window. I landed on the roof of a residential unit, then changed course, heading for Kankuro's new apartment. Hopefully, Yuki would be there.

As I hopped over the rooftops of the village, I wondered at the strange familiarity of Yuki. She seemed like someone I knew, like she was a dear friend. I was sure by now, of course, that she would become one. She was very like me in several ways, height and weapon choice aside. While she had her gigantic executioner's blade, I preferred the slim, quick katana. But she had strange, animalistic characteristics, maybe more obvious than mine, but still like me. She had dual-colored hair, and she seemed to be hiding an old tragedy behind her ice-blue eyes. I landed on the upper deck of Kankuro's apartment, silently slipping through his 'back door'. I slid down the stair-rail, a childish habit of mine, and nearly crashed into Yuki, who had an apron around her middle. The scent of chocolate chip cookies was issuing from the decent kitchen, along with copious amounts of flour dust.

"Ah! Yuki!"

I flipped off the rail and high over Yuki's head. She threw up her oven-mitted hands in shock, and a tray of cookies went spiraling into the air. I landed, and Yuki, with surprising grace, caught the cookies on the tray. She screeched like a hawk, then tripped over nothing at all and fell flat on the stone floor, cookie tray smacking down with a bizarre metallic flubba-flub. She stood quickly, glaring at me for a moment, then realizing who I was.

"Oh, Mikki! I'm so sorry! I never pay any attention to things around me, especially when I'm baking!"

I merely smiled, hopefully in a kind way, and patted her on the shoulder, standing on tiptoes to do so.

"Oh, don't worry about me, Yuki. Those cookies smell delicious, how do you do that? My mom never has time, and I can't really cook much besides eggs and ramen."

She smiled quietly, still not parting her lips. "I really like to bake. I can make a lot of diferent things, and...some people...say that my festival cakes are the best in the Elemental Lands. Anyway, Kankuro had most of the stuff you would need for cookies. All I had to do was buy some chocolate chips. I wanted to bake them as a thank-you to your mother for healing me, the Kazekage for allowing me to stay, Kankuro and Temari for giving me a place to stay, and..."

She trailed off, her cheeks tinged pink. At least, that's what I thought. It was sort of hard to tell from almost a full foot below her, but she was definitely blushing when she spoe again, softly. "And you, for becoming my friend."

I smiled, and hugged her. I could only reach he waist, she was so tall. I stood on my tiptoes, but still felt like a three-year-old trying to hug her six-foot father. I let her go, smiling again. "In that case, can I eat one before I go to the library?"

"You've gotta leave?"

"Not right away. I came to show you my new tattoo!"

I carefully unwrapped the bandage. Yuki gasped, bending to get a better look. "Oh, wow! That's so cool!"

Of course, then I noticed that the tattoo looked an awful lot older than a few minutes. The skin around it was even back to its original color. I mean, I had always healed fast, but not that fast. It was very odd, so I bit into the cookie Yuki had handed me thoughtfully. Even when I was exclaiming over the sheer deliciousness of the cookie, delighting in its melting-chocolate-and-chewy-dough texture and taste, my overtly analytical mind was racing up the walls of my skull at breakneck (or something like that) speed. I finished the cookie, hugged Yuki, and body-flickered out the door halfway across the village, to my first lesson with Gaara.

Now, I will not tell you what ANBU was like. For one thing, I'm sworn to secrecy, and for another, it's extremely brutal and I don't want to go into it. What I will tell you is what I found in that dark, especially arid corner of the extensive Suna Library. Of course, this is strictly confidential. I am about to assume that you will never harbor any ill intentions against any member of the Sand, Mist, or Leaf Villages, and that you have an extraordinary ability to keep your mouth shut. Otherwise, well... Let's just say ANBU would get involved. Take it from someone who was in that group, and believe me when I say that you would wish you had never asked me my story.

You still want to know? Okay, then. Let's do this.

A/N: All Right! This chapter, while short, is finished. I couldn't resist a cliffhanger. Also, I have mad MAJOR updates to the previous chapters. I have even changed the way this story is being told, like Mikomi is telling the story many years in the future.