Here's a new chapter for Shades of Red!

I was thinking of drawing Yūmaru, I'm not the best drawer, but I'll see how it turns out!

Enjoy and send me a review with your thoughts!

. . .

I felt hot and cold at the same time, but there was a lingering warmth pressed against my back.

Then the warmth burned like a hot brand across the skin of my back, making me tremble in discomfort. I didn't like it and I wanted it to leave!

But it didn't.

It stayed where it was: a lingering presence in this fiery hell!

When I opened my eyes, my eye-lashes stuck together, and it was a pain to force them open. When I did, a dim light pierced my eyes, and I groaned, throwing a hand over my face to shield myself from the worst of it.

Dimly, I felt something cool press rather insistently against my forehead. The coolness seemed to banish away the worst of the heat, but it was still there.

Hesitantly, I ran a tongue over my lips; they were dry and cracked.

My throat was parched: I would need something to drink soon, else I'd dehydrate.

Something slipped behind my head- a hand, perhaps?- and held it up slightly, all the while something cool was pressed to my lips.

"Drink this," an unfamiliar yet familiar voice murmured. "Granny says you need to hydrate."

Instictively, I opened my mouth, and instantly, something cold rushed inside. I soon realised that it was water, and I gulped the whole thing down in under twenty seconds.

When I was done, I immediately pleaded for more, well, tried really. It hurt to speak, and my voice was hoarse.

"Don't try to speak," the voice sighed, sounding vastly irritated.

That was when my eyes snapped open all the way, because I recognised that voice!

My suspicions were confirmed were confirmed when I spied red hair and bored looking brown eyes.

It was Sasori!

"What're you doin' here?" I tried to say, but the words came out garbled, my tongue feeling heavy and weak.

"I live here." Sasori almost sounded amused, and I could not help but notice how... flat his voice seemed.

It was kind of as if he was a robot, capable of few emotions but irritation and annoyance.

Wait, Sasori had said that he lived here! And if I was here, then were was...

"Where's Hiroshi?" I exclaimed, sitting up. I winced at the sound of my own cry, my ears ringing painfully.

"Right next to you," Sasori drawled, sounding bored with the whole exchange.

I turned my head, and true to his word, Hiroshi was right next to me, and I swiftly realised that the painful burning on my back had been from the boy's side pressing into it.

We were both sprawled on a single futon, Hiroshi spread over nearly the entirety with me being confined to a tiny space right at the end, which, of course, was located closer to Sasori than I would have liked.

Sasori of course didn't seem to care. But he looked as if he wanted to be anywhere other than this room, and that kind of made me feel a little bit sad.

It's begun, then, I thought numbly.

Sasori didn't seem that cruel. I mean, he had helped me just then, but he had also said that his granny had told him to.

Wait...

"How come I'm here?!" I demanded, the pitch of my voice making me flinch.

Sasori sat back from where he had been kneeling, looking bored and vastly irritated. "Granny found the both of you passed out in a street. She thought it would be prudent to bring you home."

Sasori stood up then, and running a hand through his red hair, he sourly remarked, "Do you know how long I had to wait for you to wake up?"

The agile four year old made to sweep out of the room, but I stopped him with a question: "Does anyone know I'm here?"

Sasori answered without even turning around, "Of course, your mother is already here. She preferred to wait until you woke up before taking you home."

And with that said, the red-head walked out of the room.

I blinked, grateful for the information, before something occurred to me.

In the short time that we had spoken, Sasori hadn't commented on my gender.

Did that mean that he knew I was a girl?

Once I took note of my clothing, I buried my face in my hands and groaned.

I was wearing nothing but my mesh undershirt and my underwear. I blushed to the roots of my hair, because Sasori had probably seen me like this, considering that he had sat by me all this time.

So Sasori knew.

And right at that moment, Hiroshi took the time to roll over and latch onto my right thigh. If it were possible, my face turned even redder when he pressed his cheek against it.

However, it was if his soft touch elicted flames.

My face drained of all colour, and I began to feel faint.

But I knew where this feeling was coming from.

It was coming from Hiroshi.

And it was as if he was draining something to replenish something else.

My eye twitched, Hiroshi merely latched tighter.

When I felt faint to the point of passing out, I pushed him away.

Hiroshi rolled to his side of the futon with a grunt, and almost immediately, the faintness began to ebb away until I felt wary and alert.

I blinked at the feeling.

What just happened?

Back in my old life, when I had read the manga, there had been this kid called Yoroi Akado, and had been able to drain chakra.

Did that mean that Hiroshi of all people could drain chakra?

The mere idea that a mere toddler could drain drain chakra was a foreign concept to me.

I giggled a little at that thought, because it just sound so funny in my head.

Then I noticed something else.

My chakra had already returned.

I felt myself frown.

If Hiroshi could drain chakra like I believed, then why did my chakra return?

My eye twitched, and I found myself no closer to the answer than when I had first began pondering.

Why, why, why, why, why, why, why?!

Why...?

I shook my head, my short hair swaying with the motion, and when it stuck to my forehead, I grimaced. Running my fingers through its length, I marvelled at how greasy and matted a person's hair could become after so short a time.

Wait.

Just how long was I asleep, anyway?

Given that I stunk (and that's to be considered since I spent like five hours running through Sunagakure, not to mention that I hadn't fully recovered from my fever from the day before), and my hair was desperate need for a wash, I'd have to say at least a day.

Sighing, I attempted to stand, and when that only served for me to stagger, I knelt on the soft material of the futon with a huff.

Why am I always prohibited from doing things that I want from my body no less?

... fine, don't answer then, body.

I swear, it's as if the world hates me or something: I seem to have the worst luck in the history of everything. And that was a statistical certainty in my past life.

I wanted a talk with my mother, and I don't care if this thought veers off topic. I want a talk with my mother, damnit!

And I will get it.

Sasori had said that my mother was already here, and nothing, I repeat: nothing would stop me from finding her.

Only my own physical weakness would.

When I attempted to stand for the second time, the blanket that both Hiroshi and I had been sharing pooled at my feet, burying my toes in its softness.

I stood, clad in nothing but my mesh shirt and my underwear. If it were any other situation, I probably would have blushed heavily, but right now, I had no time for that.

My first mission was to locate my shorts.

And they were pretty easy to find, considering that I didn't know my way around. I found them folded on a chair not too far from my futon. When I picked them up, I clutched them to my chest as if they were a lifeline.

Then, very meticulously, I began to unfold them, slipping them up thighs and securing them in place.

I didn't bother to try and find my missing shirt, because hey, it's not that I need one- I'm already wearing one, after all.

I almost giggled at that thought, but I stifled it, if not for my sake, but for the boy still sleeping.

I frowned, approaching the futon. I sank into its soft confines, kneeling beside Hiroshi's slumbering body.

The little boy looked so peaceful in his sleep, his ever present frown smoothed by the soothing confines of slumber. He looked innocent, untroubled even.

I repressed the urge to snort at that thought: it was entirely untrue.

Just because Hiroshi was training to be a Shinobi didn't mean that he wasn't human.

And he was human.

Hiroshi was just like every other person out there: he laughed, he cried, and he worried. Despite his constant impassive persona, I was sure that Hiroshi was really a very lonely little boy.

That was when my fingers brushed against his cheek, the very tips tracing from his forehead, to his cheek, to his chin, and then repeating the motion.

I didn't know why I was doing this- touching him, I mean.

I barely knew Hiroshi- I'd only known him for a day and a half, but I was sure, that with time, he could grow to become one of my very best friends.

But my trust was not something that was freely given: if someone betrayed me, then they'd never get a second chance, meaning that it was over for them, period.

I was very picky with who I choosed to trust, and I knew that beyond Suna's walls, the world was a dangerous and cold place. Out there, enemies wouldn't hesitate to pick you off.

So to contrary belief, out there in the world, you can trust no one.

Not even yourself.

Sighing, I moved to retract my hand from Hiroshi's face, but all movement was lost when the little boy abruptly stilled.

My hand left his cheek as if it were burned.

. . .

Third Person's POV- Hiroshi

Hiroshi was content in his sleep, but it seemed all too soon that he was to wake.

As reality bled into his consciousness, he felt something warm brushing against the skin of his cheek. It was like a tingle; warm and pleasant to the tips of his toes.

The urge to open his eyes was even greater now, and though he wouldn't see anything, he wanted to know who it was.

Hiroshi already recognised four chakra signetures- those being his father, Sunako-nii-san, Sosuke-san, and Yūmaru-chan.

As he was about to open his eyes, the fingers retracted as if they were burnt. Hiroshi refused to feel disappointed though, so that was when he chose to open his eyes.

As usual, darkness greeted him, but Hiroshi didn't mind, because he was used to it. Darkness was the only thing he knew, aside from some obscure colour called "blue".

Hiroshi saw the blue then.

It took the form of a short figure; the "blue" colour pulsating around it powerfully.

But there was something strange about it- almost as if it were there, but at the same time it wasn't.

Hiroshi didn't know how to explain it, but what he did know, was that the person's chakra greatly resembled his own father's.

But then again, Hiroshi recognised the chakra, though he had only seen it once.

Blindly, he reached out, and in his search, the tips of his fingers brushed against something delightfully warm. His fingers pressed into it, and not a moment later, he heard a somewhat breathy giggle.

"That tickles, Hiroshi-kun!" A familiar voice cried.

So that explained why he recognised the chakra- because he had met her, even if it was like a day ago.

"Yū-chan," Hiroshi breathed, allowing a gentle smile to crease his lips, "Where are we?"

That was the question- Hiroshi had no idea where they were. It was better to ask someone who could know.

Yūmaru stilled under his fingers, or so Hiroshi thought- it wasn't as if he could see.

It took her a while to reply, but when she did, Hiroshi felt even more confused than before.

"We're in Sasori-san's home," Yūmaru replied softly.

"Who is Sasori?"

"He's, uh, well," Yūmaru faltered, before snapping: "He's a boy that I met in the streets two days ago!"

Hiroshi saw her chakra flicker for the slightest moment- he knew that she was lying about something. How Hiroshi could tell, he didn't know.

"You're lying about," Hiroshi informed her.

Yūmaru froze, then not a second later, she moodily mumbled, "Fine, I bumped into him. Happy?!"

Hiroshi was amazed at how fast Yūmaru could switch moods. One moment she's quiet and somewhat cold, the next she's moody and irritable, and then it was back to the beginning.

"Yū-chan?" Hiroshi questioned softly. "Why have I never heard you be happy?"

By that time, he had removed his hand, but he still knew that Yūmaru hadn't moved a single inch.

"Well?" He persisted, voice a little fiercer than he intended.

The silence stretched for so long that when he finally heard her voice, Hiroshi feared tthat he had imagined the entire thing.

"Sometimes," Yūmaru began, her voice seeming to be as soft as the wind. "I wonder if there's any point to all of this."

Her chakra had not flickered once, and Hiroshi knew that everything she said was truth.

"Why?"

Hiroshi imagined that she was smiling ruefully by then, and despite the fact that he was blind, he knew that she was.

"What's the point to all of this- this fighting?!" She questioned bitterly.

And Hiroshi found himself wondering the same thing.

Why?

Because he agreed.

. . .

First Person's POV- Yūmaru

When Hiroshi asked me why I was never happy, I was a bit surprised.

I never expected anyone, least of all a little boy like Hiroshi to ask that question.

I knew that I played the happy little toddler very well- after all, not even my brother suspected anything, and he was supposed to be one of the smartest people I knew. But I also didn't doubt that after this morning, he did end up suspecting something.

But what was I supposed to say?

I couldn't walk up to him and say "Hey, Takashi, I'm a child from another universe that died and was reborn into yours. Oh, and did I forget to mention that your world is completely fictional in mine and that I know what the future is?"

I didn't even know what to do or say anymore.

Even though I knew a good portion of the future, I didn't want to act on my knowledge.

Why should I, anyway?

What good would it do?

It wouldn't stop people from dying.

It wouldn't stop Naruto's really shitty childhood.

Not that I could change that, anyway.

Naruto had to become a Jinchūriki, it's what shapes him into the character he becomes much later on.

Besides the fact that Naruto would be born in Konohagakure. And that couldn't be ignored.

I knew that I had been a fluke. There was no way that whatever Gods that were out there would let a person with that much knowledge roam freely.

Or let them keep their memories of their past life.

I knew that for me, the process to wipe my memories had only half-worked.

I had half of my memories from my previous life- I couldn't even remember my name.

Just what kind of screwed up world is this?

It was a world where the strong triumphed over the weak.

It was a world where it was either kill or be killed.

It was a world where survival was of the utmost importance.

It was a world where someone from my old world wouldn't find any hope of surviving.

But I could.

Do you know why?

Because I'm Yūmaru.