As promised, here is the first chapter :) I know where this story is going, just not sure how to get there... so it may be a few days before the next chapter is out

Enjoy!

Chapter 1, Scars.

Steam rose off the water. The candle flickered.

My name is Kira Lorenzo. I live in New York, in a suite big enough for a family of five. Paid for by my Father. I am twenty-seven years old.

It has been ten years since I went to China with my high school class.

The water rippled with each movement I made.

I had just come up from my Fathers club downstairs. He gave me this branch, now that I am old enough to run it. I own the whole building, and I get half of the profits. It is very, very popular. Today was a special day, the anniversary of my best friend and her husband. I held a party for them, paying for everything. Grand cakes, wine and champagne, decorations.

Anne and Mike have been married for three years.

Yes, Anne and Mike. John is somewhere in Canada now, no one knows where he disappeared to after we graduated. Anne broke up with him the second we returned from China, having heard my tale of the dream I had. She wanted nothing to do with him. And, I like Mike. He's a good guy.

A breeze from the window blew out my candle. I stared at the swirling smoke coming from the burnt wick.

My dream. Gaara and the twins. Temari. Kankuro. Sakura, Naruto, Tsunade-sama.

My dream, my secret life.

I smiled and scoffed at the same time. Secret life? No. Everyone knows about my insane dream. That I had twins at the age of seventeen. That I had found the love of my life who happened to have a demon monster in him.

But scars don't lie, do they?

I rubbed my knees, the wrinkled scars unfeeling. Numb. Dead. Scars from when I cracked my knees into nothing when Iwa attacked Suna that time. When I did everything I could to save my love after betraying him so badly. Scars don't lie. But the therapists said the scars were from an earlier injury, when I was little. Mother didn't remember me ever getting the scars. Neither goes Brother, Father, or Savannah. No one remembers them but me.

Because my dream wasn't a dream.

In the other room my cell phone started to ring. I stood from my bath and walked across the bathroom and out into the living room to answer it.

Caller ID said it was Daddy. "Hi, Daddy," I answered.

He chuckled on the other end of the line. "How was the party, sweetheart?"

"Spectacular. Anne and Mike were really happy." I sat down on the big comfy chair I had hand picked out for myself. The deep brown color reminds me of my babies eyes. "Everyone enjoyed themselves."

"Good, that's what I like to hear," he said. Then he cleared his throat. I sighed softly, knowing what is coming. "Your mother wants you to come home, Kira. Savannah and her want all three of you girls to go somewhere for a little while."

Every week. Every week Daddy brings this up. And, like now, every week I refuse. "I can't, Daddy, you know that," I whispered. For ten years I've been avoiding going back on a plane. I do not want to, and I never will.

He sighed. "Kira, sweetheart, go somewhere with them. They miss you. I miss you! How long has it been since you've come home? Six, seven years?"

I rolled my eyes. "Daddy, I live on the other side of town. You can drive over if you want to see me. Come to the club tonight, I've made some changes recently and I think you'd like it."

He sighed, again. I sighed, with a smile. He chuckled. "Just come home. We have a surprise for you anyway. During the day, so you can be home in time to open the club."

"Fine," I said. "But I'm not going on a plane. I love you, Daddy."

"Love you, too, Sweetheart."

I hung up and looked around the room. I haven't changed it much since I moved in. And I don't usually have people over. Maybe Anne and Mike for a ball game, but that is it. I usually entertain guests down in the club, where I can slip away for a few minutes if I have to.

Since we returned from China and I've been called insane, I haven't been all that social.

Being the daughter of such a man like my Daddy, I have constant reporters everywhere. They follow me on the streets, they sneak into my club, and they've even tried getting into my suite. I have to be very careful about what I do, who I see, and what I say. If I have someone up to my suite, and there is a reporter in the club, they go into a huge spiel about my dream and wonders if this man is connected to it, or if he resembles someone I think I had known. Its actually very annoying.

And not good for my club.

I walked back to my bath and slipped into the silky water, all the way up to my chin. Planes, just hearing the word sends chills up my spine. Never again will I ride on one of those things. Never. I will take a ship, months long ride, across the ocean, before I will get back on one of those things.

I don't think I will ever get over the trauma of that crash.

I sighed and closed my eyes. Another scar, but this one not physical. One that I cannot prove, other than refusing to get on a plane for the rest of my life. I frowned at myself, scars are not something I am very found of. I can put most of it behind me, the fear, the dread, but there will always be some things that I cannot. Like my love for my children, the children that grew in my womb. Though they tortured me, I will always love them. A Mothers love is eternal. I will never forget Gaara's face, nor those of the ones who were closest to me.

And I will never forget the betrayal.

Ever.

What happened with Mika... A shiver ran down my spine. I will never trust another in such a way. Though ten years later, and after being told everything I feel is fake, the betrayal still stings like it happened yesterday. And the need for revenge is strong.

On the nights I didn't dream about Gaara or the twins they were about Mika. About my getting revenge on her for her betrayal. She saved my life. If it wasn't for her, Ino, Shikamaru, Asuma, we all would have died in that cave. She rescued us! She was the one who dug away the snow, the one who knew which cave we would be in. She is the one who pulled me out of the dark and into the light. She treated me as if I was her daughter. She even gave me the swords her father gave to her!

My dreams of her had the usual deaths. Pushing her off a cliff, down a well, holding her head under water. Using the swords she gave me to slice her head off, stabbing her in the heart with a kunai. You know, the usual things. Or, even more dramatically, burning her to death, limb by limb. Making her suffer. Making her feel the pain I went through.

Or maybe I would kill Nabora first, and make her watch. Make Mika watch as I cut off the girls ears, fingers, toes, her tongue. Make Mika watch her daughter suffer, her slow death, and let the dread sit. Let her know she will be next, that I am coming for her. I want her to fear me. To fear my arrival. To fear my name, my face. I want her to fear me. To fear me like I feared Sasori.

I shook my head. No, I do not want to stoop to her level. I will never, ever, do that to another being. Ever. I have to admit, her betrayal has made me bitter. Very bitter.

I sighed and pushed my hair from my face. I really need to stop dwelling on what "never happened."

But I long for Suna. I long for the heat, the big open sky with its bright stars and grand moon. I miss the sand. I miss the days and days of rain after a year without it. I miss everything about it. I miss Konoha, with its forests. I miss the whole world I came out of. It happened unexpectedly, go in and coming out. A freak accident, the plane going down. A freak dream, I scoffed at myself, like some people think.

I looked down at one of two tattoo I posses. On my left hip is a giant "i", like the one that I used to have on my forehead protector. Suna's symbol. I traced it longingly. But my eyes drifted to my other hip, where an eye with a half circle sat, black against my white skin. Konoha's symbol. I traced that one, too, and a sense of longing filled me. I got them three years after I returned home, so I would never forget. Though I know I would never forget anyway.

I sighed, closing my eyes once more and leaning my head on the back of the tub. My life is so boring compared to the one I had there. This life hurts. People are deceitful, backstabbing, rumor spreading, ignorant, small minded people. There... there the people had class. They were all about family and friends. They protected one another. I would rather live in that world, with all of the death, than live in this world. I would rather be somewhere where I don't always have to look over my shoulder to see if I'm being followed, somewhere where I can breathe and not choke of the fumes coming from the buildings and cars.

Somewhere where I can be me.

My thoughts were disturbed when there was a loud knock on my front door. I heard a key jingling in the lock, then the door squeaked open. I waited, listening to the footsteps, the rustling of bags, and the soft humming.

"Kira? I brought dinner! I thought we could spend some time together. Watch a movie or something. You in the bath?"

I smiled. Of course. "Yes, I will be right out. Go ahead and pick the movie. What kind of food?"

Kaleb laughed. "Chinese, of course!"

I grinned bigger and jumped out of the tub, pulling the plug. I quickly dried off and pulled on a pair of pajama pants and a shirt. My brother would no doubt eat all of the wontons if I don't hurry. I ran a brush through my hair and pulled it back into a high ponytail.

I was about to leave the bathroom when my eye caught the candle sitting on the windowsill. It looks so lonely, sitting all by itself without the flame dancing on the wick. I looked into my eyes in the mirror and smiled slowly to myself.

The flame danced as I ate with my brother in the living room.

Well, there you go! That is the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it!

Review please!