A/N: Sorry for the wait, but here's chapter 4. Please let me know what you think!

1

She screams their names, unable to move, unable to help. Even her voice barely comes out of her throat.

Her mother and her father are about a stone throw away, right next to a big, white blur that she knows to be a monster intent on killing all of them. She has to do something, she has to save her parents, but she can't do anything.

The monster raises its arms and suddenly, fire erupts everywhere around her parents, blocking them from her view entirely. She hears their screams and the monster's laughter, but again, her own screams seem to die somewhere between her throat and her lips.

The monster's laugh turns to a howl of rage when her parents' screams change to a strange song in a language she doesn't understand. A purple ball of light shoots out of the wall of fire, coming straight for her, and the monster jumps over the fire, running towards the ball and herself. Her parents' song dies.

She screams and bounces to her feet, free from the bonds that were holding her, but before she can take even one step towards her parents, the purple ball of light engulfs her, and everything stops.

The monster's claws are but inches from her, but the beast does not move. Behind it, the flames have stopped as well, there without motion or even heat. She extends a hand towards the monster's outstretched claws, not really knowing why, just reaching towards something she doesn't understand out of instinctive curiosity. Her hand never reaches: before her very eyes, it starts shrinking, and she feels the rest of her body following suit. At the same time, the monster becomes invisible as the purple light engulfs everything.

For a long time, the Universe is nothing but purple light. When it finally fades, it leaves nothing but cold and darkness in its place. She cries, terrified, until a pair of big hands picks her up and she finds herself nestled into a warm embrace.

2

Esuma woke up with a gasp, her breathing ragged and her heart hammering madly in her chest. She didn't notice her father until he put his hand on her shoulder.

"It's all right, little one." He whispered. "It's just a dream."

She sat up, finally noticing the daylight filtering through her curtains.

"I know." She sighed, her heart already slowing back down to normal and her voice sounding almost normal. "I just wish I could stop having it."

"Did you make up on your mind about hypnotherapy?"

She shrugged.

"I… I don't know. I'm pretty sure the dream IS related to my parents' death, and I do think that if I remembered what really happened, I wouldn't imagine a monster attacking them anymore, but…" She trailed off.

The idea had been Lily's, at first. Marie enthusiastically approved of it, and although Esuma knew her friends meant well, she wasn't comfortable at all about a stranger poking around in her head. Her father and mother had been very careful not to express any opinion on the sensitive subject, other than letting her know they would if she asked and not otherwise, so as to allow her to make up her own mind.

As uncomfortable as she was with the idea, however, it remained tempting. The recurring nightmare was one thing, but Esuma had noticed a long time ago that it always followed her headaches and so, was convinced they were connected. If they were, getting rid of the dream could mean getting rid of the headaches, which in turn would mean she would no longer be at risk of collapsing in the middle of a cheer or something else important, or while out with her friends, ruining the outing and making everyone worry.

Hawk sighed as he watched his daughter's brow furrow. If anyone deserved to live happily and free of pains and worries, it was Esuma, and he could honestly say that he didn't just feel that way because she was his daughter. Anybody who knew her would whole heartedly agree with him… Esuma's exterior beauty, which, from Hawk's point of view, only meant the poor girl had to contend with every superficial boy around trying to woo her, was only a pale reflection of her inner beauty.

Yet, he was not tempted to help her make the decision to seek help. He and her mother both agreed that Esuma, despite her relatively young age, was more than mature enough to have the right to make up her own mind on this. She was a reasonable person, perfectly capable of making rational decisions, and to do anything close to forcing her hand in such a private matter would have been, in both Hawk's and his wife's opinion, downright criminal.

He opted to try and distract his daughter from her dream by switching to another subject.

"Marie and Lily said you were hanging out with a teacher and he helped bring you home?"

Esuma's eyes widened and she looked away.

"Steve Heatly tried to throw a bag of compost at Lily, and Mr. Nakamura caught it. We wanted to buy him coffee to thank him." She muttered. She knew how her father would react. "Did you feed Oliaf yet?" She added with the faint hope to distract him. Oliaf was the goldfish living in their pond, and had been there for as long as Esuma could remember.

To her surprise, her father did not scream. His eyes did narrow, but his voice remained perfectly calm.

"Yes, I fed him. Esuma… you need to stay away from that man. You really do." His voice shook a bit at this point and he took a deep breath. Esuma looked at him and noticed his face had gone white. She felt the blood drain from her own face as well: her father was scared, for the firs time she could recall.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." She said sincerely. "I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I…"

"Esuma, if Nakamura is who I think he is, he could kill you in the blink of an eye, and by bringing him here, your friends have revealed to him who you were, in the off chance he didn't already know. Thankfully, my agent will start at your school tomorrow… don't be surprised if he hovers around you a lot, although you will probably not notice: the man has a talent for being invisible."

Esuma made herself look at her father in the eyes. She knew he was only looking out for her, and she knew it was his job to protect not only her but the whole World against bad people, and that he was extremely good at it, but she couldn't help being certain that in this particular case, he was worried for nothing.

"Daddy… I really think you're wrong about him."

Hawk sighed. Esuma was usually a very good judge of character and it was entirely possible that she was right and that his suspicions about her new gym teacher were unfounded, but he simply couldn't take any chance. He considered himself the luckiest man alive to have been entrusted with the fatherly care of such an amazing girl, and he was not about to risk losing her. There was only a slim chance that the school's new gym teacher was indeed Storm Shadow in disguise, but a slim chance was enough to warrant action, as much for the sake of the free World as for that of his daughter and her friends.

"I hope you're right, little one." He said. "If you are, I promise you I'll apologize to him personally."

3

Time seems to stop. For what feels like a lifetime, Tommy can't do anything else than stare in shock. The Hard Master is dead, his face in the dirt and a long blade protruding from his back. Tommy's heart is beating hard, yet in the face of his elder's abrupt mortality, the child is keenly aware of each beat and finds himself anxious for the next between each one. He feels very selfish and unworthy for being concerned for his own self at a moment like this, and turns his thoughts towards the dead man. Above any sorrow over the loss of his relative and teacher, he feels overwhelming regret at the fact he never did manage to gain his love, approval, or even acceptance and that now, he never will.

When he finally manages to tear his eyes from his uncle's corpse to look up at the murderer, he sees Death itself, a black specter grinning a skeleton's soulless smile.

"MURDERER!" The apparition screams, pointing at him. "DON'T LET HIM GET AWAY!"

The boy's eyes widen as he realizes that he will be blamed for the murder. He knows he's not liked much by anybody within the clan, and he automatically understands that the baseless accusation will be enough: he can either run, or die.

He runs.

He runs without stopping until his legs fail him and he falls. He drags himself in the shadow of a dark alley and collapses again, his legs feeling like liquid lead, his throat and even his tongue so dry as to hurt and his stomach growling and paining. He's been hungry lots of time before now, but skipping a meal does not begin to compare to skipping several, while running as fast as you can and drinking nothing. He tries to put a number to how long he's gone without any food or water by counting the days, and he remembers nighttime coming twice… it's almost there again and it was morning when his uncle died, so it must have been three days since he left the compound. Three days since he ate, drank or slept. Three days since his uncle was killed right in front of him…

He starts crying then, tears that have waited three days to come out and that burn his eyes. He cries and sobs helplessly, unnoticed by the passers by on the main street, mere feet but a world away. He cries because he's lost not only his uncle, but the chance to prove to the man that he was worthy of his love. He's lost the chance to ever be treated like family by the Hard Master, but also by the rest of the clan, who now believe him to be a murderer and a traitor. He no longer has a home or a family, and meanwhile, Snake Eyes is there, grieving the Hard Master and cursing the one they think murdered him with the rest of them. He has no idea what to do: he has nobody to turn to, nowhere to go, he's hungry, he's tired, and crying is making him even thirstier.

His tears eventually turn to dry sobs and even they subside as his survival instincts kick in. He forces himself up and back to the main street. He's in a commercial area, but at this time of the day, most businesses are closed. He walks until he finds an unlocked door, and enters a restaurant. The hostess automatically comes to him and after looking him up and down, wrinkles her nose in distaste. Tommy can imagine why: both he and his gi must be filthy by now, and public places typically prefer people to wear shoes, too.

"I'm sorry to bother you." He says, bowing deeply. The few words dry up his throat, choking him, and he coughs.

The hostess sighs.

"Why aren't you in a foster home?" She asks. "Look, I'll get you a drink of water if you promise to disappear and go straight to the police. Honestly, on the streets at your age!"

She takes off without waiting for his answer and comes back a minute later with a kiddy plastic cup filled with water. Tommy bows again, takes it and drains it.

"Thank you. I don't suppose…" He means to ask for a job, already picturing himself washing dishes in exchange of a meal, but she interrupts him with a glare and a shooing gesture.

Knowing a drink is all he'll get here, he leaves. He spends the rest of the evening trying his luck in every business he finds still open, and gets much the same reception everywhere. Nobody is interested in hiring a homeless boy, they all just want him to leave and cease polluting their business with his presence.

He gives up for the night when he becomes too tired to walk, and finds a cranny to squeeze into between two dumpsters in a back alley, his stomach still growling and his throat feeling dryer than ever despite the occasional drinks of water people gave him before chasing him away. His eyes fill with tears again, but he has no energy left to sob. He falls asleep with tears still seeping from beneath his eyelids.

The following day starts off the same way: despite more businesses being opened, nobody is looking to hire a homeless child legally too young to work. By the evening, Tommy is forced to conclude he needs to try something else.

He picks up an empty can in a dumpster and for several minutes, glares at it balefully. He can't believe it's come to this. He was born an Arashikage, a member of the most prestigious ninja clan in Japan… some would say a mere step down from an Emperor, although he rather feels it's the other way around. Being reduced to begging is intolerable.

His vision blurs at the thought and he wipes at his eyes irritably. He's tired of crying, he's tired of being thirsty, hungry and generally exhausted. If he could just get enough money for one meal, he'd at least have a bit more strength and he might be able to find work, even if just to sweep the sidewalk for one of the businesses. He doesn't want to do this, but he still finds it better than swiping food like Snake Eyes tried to do, and much better than starving to death.

He settles against a wall near a busy intersection, the can in front of him, and starts shooting pleading looks to anyone who walks by, and even asking out loud for some change every now and again. He falls asleep within the hour, his face flushed with shame and his can containing only a few meager coins, wondering whether dying hurts more or less than an empty stomach and at the same time, dreaming that he'll wake up to find his can full of bills.

He wakes up to find his can gone; stolen along with what few coins he had managed to collect. He narrows his eyes at the empty space where the can should be, picturing some punk spotting him, a little kid covered in filth with visible streams on his cheeks from his tears, sleeping fitfully with a stomach that won't stop growling, his lips parched from dehydration, and stealing the can with the bit of change in it for a laugh. He decides, at that moment, that the people of this city deserve to lose whatever he needs to survive: he's done asking for what he needs.

4

Storm Shadow woke up with a start and sprang up to a seating position, panting and covered in sweat. He hated that dream, and the fact it exactly reflected what had happened all those years ago only made it worse. In the space of a few short days, he had lost his home, any semblance of safety, and finally, his dignity. He had since learned that home was where you made it and safety only depended on yourself, but he had never quite gotten over the shame of what he had been reduced to back then; even nowadays, he valued his dignity and honor above most everything else.

It was easy to guess this would have come to a surprise to GI Joe… in their eyes, he was but a villain. They had no idea what his motivations were, nor did they care. And to think, their leader lived in this small town, no more than three blocks away from his apartment… if Esuma ever described her gym teacher and cheerleading coach to her father, in any detail, Hawk was liable to recognize him and launch his whole team after him.

Storm Shadow's mind settled on the beautiful white haired girl. He wondered whether she was all right before clenching his fists and frowning at himself. What was wrong with him? He shouldn't wonder, he shouldn't care. It was almost as though he was getting… attached. It wasn't like him to get attached, in any way. He had spent most of his life alone, and he had long since stopped minding and started relishing the independence and the complete control he had over his own destiny.

Getting attached was just not something he did. Getting attached to this girl, this child, was inconceivable. It was her fantastic speed and her exceptional agility, it had to be. He was reacting to her potential, he was interested in a promising student. It was not attachment per se. It was simply a concern born out of a desire for the girl's wonderful potential not to go to waste.

He lay back down. Yes, that had to be it. But then, why was it her warm smile, and neither her sensational speed nor her uncanny agility, that lingered in his mind's eye as he drifted back to sleep?

5

Snake Eyes, or as he was known for the length of this assignment, John Smith, sighed as the left the Director's office and headed for the custodian's closet. Posing as a high school custodian was already not his idea of a fun mission because he remembered very well how the custodians were treated by the students back when he had been in high school and he doubted things had changed much. The fact that the school's director had been told "John" was part of an outreach program and therefore treated him like he was mentally challenged did not exactly make the situation any more pleasant.

The worst part, however, was that, if Hawk was right, he just might have to kill Storm Shadow again. It had been difficult enough the first time and that had been before his sword brother had planted the seeds of doubt regarding his guilt in his head.

He pushed the unpleasant thoughts aside as he opened his closet and took out the wide broom. He set to work and let his thoughts wander, slipping into meditation as he swept the hallways before the kids arrived to start their day.