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. . .

The laps that Takashi had told- well, more like ordered me to do, put a huge strain on my tiny and under trained body.

So to put it simply: It hurt like hell.

And I was still running them nearly an hour later. Well hey, Takashi had told me to run until I dropped, but I don't think he expected me to take it so literally.

Ha, and he was away on a mission, and when he came home, I was sure Mum would chew him out with her high-pitched voice and horrible.

Yeah, and now back to the matter at hand. I had already run about fifty laps of this training field, and it was only after ten that my lungs threatened to give out. But hey, I wasn't a sissy, so I wasn't going to let a few laps of a training field bring me down.

So here I was, almost an hour later, huffing and puffing with god awful amounts of sweat running down my body and face. It was even in my hair!

At least I wasn't wearing a yukata anymore.

When Takashi had oh so kindly dropped me back home, I had skilfully avoided my mother (who had been making breakfast, by the way), and headed to my room. I had then stripped off my yukata and proceeded to raid my closet in search of much better atire.

In place of yukata, I was now wearing a loose black shirt, grey shorts, and a pair of my brother's sandels that he had worn when he had attended the academy. I had attempted to twist my extremely short hair into a bun, something that didn't hold, mind you. But I was just so damn sick of it spilling into my face when I stopped to take a breather.

And it made it even worse when I took note that its colour was crimson, like blood. It always streamed down my face messily, and to be honest, I could care less what I looked like now. But a tiny part of me wished that I had inherited my mother's jet-black hair.

Then I'd look like an Uchiha.

I didn't know what possessed me to think that, but when I did, I burst into laughter, falling to the ground as I did so, hands pressing into my stomach.

But hey, I could look like an Uchiha. I already had the black eyes, why not have the hair, as well? But my skin wasn't as pale to pull of the entire thing, though. An Uchiha's skin was pasty, almost sickly in colour. My skin was just enough pale to even be considered pale.

Eventually, after a few moments of relentless laughter, my chuckles finally died down. And I have to admit, after three years of being as stoic as my father, it felt good to laugh again.

Getting to my feet, I grimaced at the sight of my near soiled clothes. They were soaked in sweat, and I didn't even want to imagine the smell. Resolving to return home as soon as possible to take a shower, I began to walk towards the dusty streets of Sunagakure. However, a sudden idea had me stopping.

Earlier that morning, Takashi had stated that I was a Sensor.

From what I had seen of Naruto, Sensor Types could identify chakra signitures. How cool was that? And when Takashi had told me told mold my chakra, I had felt something. It had been warm and comforting, and I realised that I had felt safe.

Now, I wanted to try it again.

Without even knowing what I was doing, I stood on the edge of that accursed training field and clumsily held my hands in the seal that I had seen Takashi use. I was sure that I had gotten the seal wrong, but I couldn't care less at that rate. From there, I searched my mind for my "core".

It took what felt like hours to find it, but when I did, I greedily grasped at it. When I felt it, warmth seemed to flood through my veins, and to the tips of my fingers.

And then it faded.

I barely resisted the urge to scream in frustration, so I just stood there and tried again.

And again, and again, and again.

After the chakra once again escaped my grasp, it was after sunset. Growling in frustration, I left the training field, childishly stomping through the dusty streets, and it was by that time that they were nearly empty, save for a few strangers. It then occurred to me, that while this was a Shinobi Village, and that it was quite safe for children to wander alone, this was really the first time that I had been left alone.

And to say that I was worried was an understatement.

To put it simply: I was terrified.

The small, childish part in me that I had squashed down, cried out for my mother. I inwardly sneered at the blatent weakness, but then I remembered that I was a child, and I had been a child when I had died.

Then I blinked. I... was a child when I died?

How had I died, anyway?

Now that I thought about it, I couldn't really remember much of my past life. Bits and pieces of scattered memories, I suppose, my sisters' names, Naruto, but that was all, really.

I couldn't remember what Ashley or Riley looked liked, my parents' names, hell, even the name of my school.

I couldn't even remember my old name.

Before I knew it, hot tears were pricking at the corners of my eyes, but I angrily blinked them away.

I would not cry.

Because in order to be truly successful, a Shinobi must never show emotion, a voice in the back of my mind hissed.

The child in me could care less, though. And it wasn't disgusted at the thought of crying, but the near adult in me was disgusted. So in order to quell the tears, I scrunched my eyes shut and bowed my head, my closed eyes shadowed by my thick fringe of crimson hair.

And then I began to walk, and just felt, letting everything go.

I felt everything. From anger to annoyance, and then to happiness, I felt it all.

This act of feeling everything drained me, though. And by the time I was nearing my house, I was swaying on my feet in plain exhaustion. And I was so tired, that I wasn't looking where I was going.

Not that I could look with my eyes closed.

This caused me to crash headlong into a warm body. The collision was so sudden that it nearly sent the both of us tumbling to ground. But before we could fall, fingers pressed extremely hard into my shoulders, and I winced, but it was enough to not send us careening into the ground, at least.

Since I was so exhausted, I automatically slumped against the person that I had crashed into, but I before I could even get closer than I already was, I was shoved away.

I stumbled once, then twice before I caught myself, but I swayed dangerously.

Why am I so tired? I wondered.

I looked up, and then a dreamy smile flitted across my face, and I could even say that I had a fan girl moment.

Because guess who it was? I dare you!

I had finally stumbled into a canon character of the Narutoverse.

Finally!

Sharp brown eyes seemed to glare down at me, but in the darkness I couldn't really tell. But I knew that he was annoyed, at least. Hey, wouldn't you be annoyed if some random person crashed into you on the street without warning and didn't bother apologising?

I would be.

And I finally recognised who it was when I saw his hair.

It was short, slightly messy, and red, falling down his forehead in slightly shaggy spikes.

When he spoke, I didn't know how to describe his voice. It wasn't really deep, but that wasn't to be expected when he looked to be at least four years old.

Older than me, at least.

But hey, I was turning four in a matter of days.

And I guess that it didn't really help my self esteem that he was taller than me. I blame that on genetics.

Wait, I blame that on my mother!

"Granny," he murmured, flicking his eyes up to the woman beside him. "Why won't he speak?"

I swear my mouth fell open at his admission.

I was not, under any circumstances, a boy!

When I opened my mouth tell him that I was, in fact, a girl, a sudden thought struck my mind.

Why not pretend to be a boy? I mean, Shinobi were taken far more seriously than Kunoichi's were, and I suppose I did look the part, what with my short hair, under developed body, and baggy clothes.

Suddenly, I flinched. And I don't know why I did that, either. Maybe it was due to all the aches in my body, or maybe due to the fact that most of my chakra had been drained.

To say that I was tired would be an understatement.

I was exhausted.

And I think the old woman standing by the boy's side seemed to notice, because damn, she was a Medic-nin, and they were supposed to know these things.

"I think you should go home, young man," she suggested. "And I know the symptoms of exhaustion when I see them. You may even be burning up."

My eyes narrowed, and I swiped my hand across my face. To my horror and mortification, I did appear to have a fever of some kind.

I nodded, though the movement made me sway dangerously.

By the gods was I pathetic!

As if hearing my silent prayers, rescue came in the form of my brother.

Well, bless him.

When Takashi caught sight of my pale, probably flushed face, he instantly caught me before I would have probably collapsed. When I was safely scooped in his arms and lifted off the ground, I looked up to meet his eyes.

And immediately regretted it.

Though his face was blank, Takashi's eyes were furious.

Then I noticed that he was dressed in the most casual clothing I had seen him in- a black shirt, and a pair of equally dark trousers. His hair was also tied back, I noticed, the only thing framing his face now being his unruly bangs. His headband was missing, as well. The scar that he had acquired during the Chūnin Exams was bared for the world to see. And I noticed that it was quite long, starting from his right eye and curving along his cheek in a wide arc, eventually stopping just at the beginning of his jawline.

Takashi was only twelve, yet he seemed so much older.

"Just what did you do to yourself, Yūmaru?" He questioned harshly, his cool fingers pressing against my forehead. "I told you to run laps, not use your chakra."

I winced at his harsh voice, but it was inevitable, I guess.

"You're burning up!" He growled. "What will I tell Okaa-san, huh? Or Otou-san, for that matter?"

I didn't answer him, and that only made him more frustrated than he already was. Then, he seemed to notice our company. His voice died to a soft murmur.

"Forgive Yūmaru, Chiyo-sama," he murmured, bowing his head.

To my and Takashi's surprise, the old woman- Chiyo, actually chuckled. "Please, there is nothing to forgive. If anything, please forgive the rudeness of my grandson."

I swear I saw the boy's eyes widen, but since I knew how cold and aloof he could be, I put it to a trick of the light.

"Sasori," she coerced gently.

"Very well," the boy sighed, sounding far older than his four year old self. "I'm sorry."

I knew that the apology was false, however. I saw it in Sasori's guarded eyes that he didn't really mean it.

I watched as the boy twined his fingers with his grandmother's, pulling her off rather impatiently. "You promised me chocolate, Granny."

I could not help the tiny smile that curved my lips when I saw the fondness in Chiyo's eyes.

While Sasori already seemed cold and aloof to the point of rudeness, I could see that the wound of losing his parents had only been recent. That meant that he wasn't totally beyond of saving.

But did I even want to save him?

I mean, why should I?

It wouldn't do anything in the long run, and besides, Sasori had to leave Sunagakure in order for canon events to play out.

But that didn't mean that I couldn't befriend him.

And if I remember correctly, the only person that Sasori had even considered remotely close to a friend had been some boy called Komushi.

But Komushi had died, killed by the hands of his friend's very poison.

So should I?

Befriend him, I mean?

I didn't really know, but I would give it a try. Even though I knew that Sasori would push me away.

But I had to try.

I just had to.