So, I don't really have an excuse for how late this is. Two years is a long time. Does anyone still read this?

. . .

After I so carelessly blurted out that particular piece of information, I received two reactions.

Yashamaru resembled a gaping fish, "Wha-What?!" he gasped hoarsely. His face drained of colour and his mouth hung open.

Sasori's reaction was different. He didn't look affected at all; in fact, he looked completely bored. The only thing that gave away that he felt something about the situation was the slight widening of his eyes.

Yashamaru was the first to recover, "What do you mean you have a new sensei?" he demanded.

I shrugged, "What I just said."

"Explain," Sasori ordered. He still looked unruffled. It made me wonder if he even cared at all. He probably didn't; after all, we had technically only known each other for around two months.

"I can barely use chakra." I stared down at my hands, taking in the dirtied bandages wrapped haphazardly around each finger. I couldn't remember the last time I had changed them for something fresher. I normally just pulled them off when I hopped in the shower, and when I was dry, I would just rewrap my hands with the same used bandages. "Hiroshi- he's on Onii-chan's team- his father has the problem as me. He… he offered to be my sensei…"

"Does Sensei know?" Yashamaru questioned. He stared at me intensely, waiting for my reply.

"Yeah," I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest, "I already told her."

"What did she say?" he pressed.

"She said it was fine!" I snapped.

His eyes widened briefly, before his face smoothed out again, "Calm down," he mumbled.

"Don't tell me to calm down," I muttered.

"Stop wasting our time then," Sasori suddenly said.

I looked at him then, "What?" Wasting his time? Was that what I was doing?

"There's clearly something wrong with you," he said coldly.

I flinched at his tone, but clenched my jaw and went on, "There's nothing wrong with me."

"There must be," Sasori answered with certainty, taking a step closer, "Ever since we've returned from our first mission outside the village, you've been… strange. You snap often, you're moody, and you've been avoiding us."

"I'm fine," I stressed, and unconsciously, I lifted a hand to stroke the scarf around my neck. Yes, I know I've been a bitch. Actually, I've been a bitch to everyone. At least Kazuki accepted my apology. The only one left is Takashi.

"You're clearly not," Sasori replied knowingly, and damn, was Sasori perceptive for a seven year old.

I clenched a fist around Dad's scarf, biting down the retort I wanted to spit at him. But I wouldn't say it. Saying "fuck you" to a seven year old was going a bit too far. Even if said seven year old was a shinobi.

"You've never worn a scarf before," Yashamaru said abruptly.

"It was my father's," I replied tightly, caressing the worn fabric with a single hand.

"I wonder if you're wearing it to hide the bruise marks around your neck," Yashamaru muttered.

My eyes widened in shock, "How did you…?"

"They were there when we found you, Yū-san," he answered quietly. He took a step closer to me, his voice taking on a gentle tone when he spoke, "Is the reason you getting a new sensei because of the mission...?"

I shut my eyes, "Yes," I whispered, because it was. Rei haunted me. Every night when I closed my eyes to sleep, his face, his sickly pale face, would be the first thing I saw. His cold voice would echo around me as his thin hands crushed my throat, his empty eyes peering into mine to see the life leaving them.

"You're weak," Sasori stated it like it was a facr, yet I knew it was, "You're a shinobi now. You can't let a mission like this affect you."

"Sasori-san!" Yashamaru snapped indignantly, "Watch what you say! We all had a horrible time on that mission, Yū-san more so than others! We got attacked and she killed someone for the first time. Obviously it's going to affect her!"

"She knew what she was signing up for," Sasori retorted, "Shinobi kill. We kill. We complete the mission no matter the cost. The mission is more important than our lives."

I just stared at him. He sounded like a robot when he spoke. Like he was just repeating everything he had been told.

"I know that," I said quietly, "And you're right. I am weak-"

"Yū-san," Yashamaru protested. He opened his mouth, but I cut him off.

"I am weak, Yashamaru-kun," I said, and I looked down at the ground as I muttered, "Everytime I close my eyes, all I can see is... him. His arms are around my throat and I can't breathe. I can't do anything."

For the second time that day, Yashamaru's eyes flickered down to the red scarf wrappe around my neck, "Those marks," he murmured, "You were strangled."

I smiled darkly, "I was. Even after a week, the marks are still there. They don't look like they'll be fading anytime soon either."

"I can take a look at them if you want," Yashamaru offered.

I shook my head, "Don't bother. I'm going to keep them there as a reminder to never forget."

"You're a shinobi now, Yūmaru-san," Sasori suddenly said, "I don't think you're ever going to forget."

I nodded, but as I was about to open my mouth to speak, I was cut off.

"You've bee avoiding us," Yashamaru said. He took a step closer to me, noting when I cringed slightly at the motion. He held his hand out, "I'm not going to hurt you, Yū-san. You're my team mate and... my friend."

"I know," I muttered, gazing down at his hand, "You're my friend, too, Yashamaru-kun, and even you, Sasori-san," I added fiercely.

Said boy just stared at me with half-lidded eyes, "We're not friends," he commented boredly.

"We are, even if you don't want to be," I insisted, taking a step closer to him. I grabbed Yashamaru's hand and pulled him closer, "We're team mates, Sasori. We're all going to be together for a long time unless something happens to pull us apart."

"Like you getting a new sensei," Sasori pointed out.

"He's just like me!" I burst out.

Yashamaru looked startled, but I just squeezed his hand in reply.

"What do you mean "just like you"?" Yashamaru asked, making air quotes with his free hand.

To his surprise, I grinned, "He has the same illness as me. Like me, his coils are pretty much shot. He was going to teach me how to fight like him."

"I've heard of him," Sasori commented, "Rin Akashi; he's a jonin with perfect chakra control. His control is so precise that he can control his staff from a distance."

"Chakra strings," I breathed in realisation.

Sasori almost looked proud, "Yes."

"No wonder you're so strong," I teased, "To use such a technique would your chakra control would have to be nearly perfect."

"I learnt from a young age," Sasori replied.

There was no arrogance in his tone. There didn't need to be. Sasoru was incredibly strong for his age, and it wasn't hard to see why.

"You're a genius," I pointed out.

Sasori just tilted his head slightly to side, his lips quirking up minutely at the sides.

My eyes widened slightly, before a large grin took over my face, "Did I just make you smile?" I wondered. I turned to Yashamaru, "Did I just make Sasori smile?"

Yashamaru simply smiled serenely in reponse, "You have a gift," he teased.

I elbowed him in the side, all the while he huffed out laughter.

"Yashamaru!" I complained, though my own lips twitched into a smile.

Perhaps the possible break-up of our team wouldn't be all bad, even though I would always be there with them.

I would try to accompany them on missions if it were possible, but I knew that, in Suna, when a jonin took on an apprentice, then that child wouldn't officially be part of any team.

I wouldn't let my weakness drag the rest of my team down. Shinobi were killers; I knew what I was signing up for the moment I entered the academy.

Hell, Takashi tried dissuading me and he still did. But, after that last mission, I now understood what he felt. I had just had my first kill; I had killed a living, breathing person with thoughts and feelings, hopes and dreams. I had ended the life of someone.

I remembered when Takashi had become a genin. He had been so happy and innocent back then; Dad had been particularly proud of him.

Then, the war had come, and Takashi, my happy, innocent, eight year old brother, had been thrown in amidst the carnage. He had survived for the most part, but he had emerged as a darker, bitter, and jaded person.

When he was nine, and the war was freshly finished, he had returned home and commenced his normal genin duties. But he had been a shadow of his usual self. He tensed at every noise or movement and suffered from intense nightmares.

I had been as innocent as him, regardless of the fact that this was my second life. But I had taken a life, and now I understood how every other ninja in Suna felt.

But I wasn't going to let this drag me down. What I had said to my team mates had been the truth. When I closed my eyes, all I saw was Rei. The nightmares were disturbing, and they were affecting my mood, too.

But I shouldn't be scared of Rei. He was a teenager, no matter how powerful he was. I should be more scared of my mother, whose temper induced rages were terrifying.

I had to get stronger, not only for myself, but for my team mates as well. I wouldn't, no, couldn't, let anything hurt them.

I had known Sasori since I was three years old, and Yashamaru since I was six. Despite the fact that I had only known them well for around two to three months, I still felt close to them.

My body was weak, but I wanted to get stronger. If Rin could become as strong as he was with a body like mine, then I could, too.

I just had to.

. . .

"So how does this work exactly?" I asked Rin as we walked towards the Kazekage's tower.

"We have to submit the proper papers first," Rin answered, his voice hoarse.

I was alarmed when he suddenly coughed, hunching over as he jammed a hand against his chest. A single line of blood rolled from his mouth.

"Are you okay?!" I questioned, reaching a hand out to him.

Rin kept his head bowed, "I'm fine," he grumble, letting out a final cough before he straightened up, "It's nothing that I haven't dealt with before."

"It's gotten worse?" I demanded, before stopping as a single, horrible thought stopped me in my tracks, "Is that going to happen to me, too?"

"Not for a long time," Rin answered quietly as he wiped the blood from his face, "My body is rotting from the inside out, Yūmaru-chan," the endearment surprised me a little, but I kept silent as he continued, "I am an abnormality of nature. My very existence goes against the natural order of things, thus my body is rejecting me."

I pondered that for a moment, "That's exactly what Rei told me," I said.

Rin snorted, surprising me, "A child in a child's body," he scoffed, "This is not his world, nor his people. Why he attempts to change things, I do not know."

I opened my mouth to reply, but closed it. Rin had actually made a valid point. Those Naruto characters I had so adored in my first life were ust that: characters. In this new life, they were just nameless faces that I hadn't really thought much of.

The few characters I had met, had left a lasting impact on me, and I cared for their wellbeing. But the others were just faces in a crowd; a crowd that I would save if I had the opportunity, but I would't actively try to change anything.

I would try to change Yashamaru and Sasori's fates because they were my friends, but wouldn't everyone try to save their friends?

Meanwhile, Rin, who could have had the opportunity to befriend any character in this world, he had chosen my father, who would be regarded as an unseen fodder character in my past life.

But he wasn't. Neither was my mother, or my brothers. They were real people with hopes and dreams and fears; Takashi was still haunted by the war, Akito wanted to become a jonin, and my mother was lonely after Dad had died.

But maybe Rei had lost someone, too.

"Maybe he lost someone important to him," I suggested.

Rin considered it, "He could have," he agreed, "But that doesn't give him to lash out at others for his own pain. Your own father didn't."

"Tou-san?" I asked, confused at the sudden change in topic, "What about him?"

"He didn't tell you?" Rin tilted his head to the side, "Sosuke was orphaned at a young age. He once told me that he couldn't even remember his parents' faces. He grew up as an orphan with no one to care or acknowledge him. And yet he didn't let his sadness cloud his reality, like most did. He grew up to be an honourable shinobi and an even honourable man. Even when his beloved sensei, Yūta, was struck down in battle, he didn't let revenge take over his mind. At heart, Sosuke was a gentle man, and you have inherited many of his qualities, Yūmaru-chan. He held his sensei so dear to his heart that he partially named his own child after him."

I was shocked at his words; never had I known that Dad had been an orphan, that he had grown up parentless and with no one to love or acknowledge him. But my heart was warmed at the fact that Dad had had this man in his life.

"I'm glad he had you," I said quietly, "And he was a great man. But so are you, Rin-sensei."

Rin's face was curiously blank at my words, but his eyes glimmered with something warm, "We're here," he said.

He was right. I had been so caught up in his words that I hadn't noticed that we had arrived.

I just smiled, then followed him inside. A bored looking receptionist greeted us.

"What do you need?" she questioned, her face pinched. She didn't even look up from the pile of papers in front of her.

"We are here to see the Kazekage," Rin announced.

"Kazekage-sama is very busy at the moment," the receptionist stated in a monotonous voice, "He doesn't have time for trivial things. If you wish to see him, you must book an appointment; the next available time is two weeks from time."

I huffed out a breath and folded my arms. I didn't want to wait two weeks to see Sunako, but I understood that he was busy; he was the leader of the entire village.

I glanced up to see Rin's reaction, but he didn't even look fazed, "Sunako can't even spare a second to see his favourite uncle?" he questioned pleasantly.

At this, the receptionist finally looked up, her face paling immediately, "A-Akashi-sama," she stammered, the poor woman nearly sending her pile of papers to the floor in her flustered state, "I-I apologise-"

"You're my only uncle," a voice interrupted.

"Sunako," Rin commented, his voice taking on a sarcastic edge, "Very nice of you to drop by for a visit. Hiroshi misses you."

I whirled around, and, sure enough, Sunako stood there in all his glory, his tall, lithe frame draped in his Kazekage robe.

"I apologise," Sunako began, but he didn't look sorry at all; in fact, he looked bored by the whole exchange, "But there are far greater matters that require my attention than one little boy. Though I love Hiroshi dear, the village takes precedence."

"What happened to your respect, Sunako?" Rin questioned, "Though the village is important, you must still spend time with your family. Hiroshi tells me the only time he sees you is for mission assignments, and half the time, you are not there."

Sunako scowled. "My respect?" he scoffed, crossing his arms. "I have respect, but you do not."

"I am your uncle," Rin barked, his voice taking on an icy edge I had never heard before, "I brought you up after the deaths of your parents, and yet there is no gratitude. Only arrogance. You are young, yet you hold the post of leader. It was a bad idea from the beginning."

Sunako's eyes glimmered with icy intent, "You were never there," he said lowly, coldly, "And look where I am now: the most powerful shinobi in the village, and you stand before me, not as my uncle, but as my subject. You may have raised me, but you owe me respect. However, I have none to give to a dying man who shows his own son no affection and leaves the ones he loves to rot. Now, tell me exactly why you are here."

I stood frozen from the encompassing tension that had seeped around the room. Even the poor receptionist was too shocked to move.

Rin's face was curiously blank, and I didn't react when he reached out and lightly placed a hand on my shoulder, "She is to be my apprentice."

"Does she have a name?" Sunako commented boredly. His eyes took me in, widening slightly, "I see. Sosuke-san's daughter."

"You knew my father?" I blustered before I could stop myself.

Sunako tilted his head to the side, "Of course," he replied, "I knew him rather well. He was an exceptional shinobi. Suna suffered a great loss when he was killed."

He stated it like it was a fact; a fact that Dad had died.

"Tou-san wasn't a statistic," I growled, fingering the scarf around my neck, "He was a great man and a great shinobi. He died surrounded by his family."

"Why do you wish to become a shinobi?" Sunako suddenly questioned, not looking at all fazed by my blatant disrespect towards him.

His question caused me to freeze, and I honestly pondered it for a moment. Originally I had become a ninja because it was all I knew; Dad and Takashi were shinobi, so why not me?

Now, though, after having a taste of the horrors a shinobi would endure in their career, I had a clear idea of just what I wanted.

"I killed a man," I whispered, "On my last mission."

Sunako looked intrigued, "Go on," he encouraged.

"I was fighting," I gulped, blinking back the tears that had started to form, "And then he was just... there. He was on top of me, and he was going to kill me, but I killed him before he could. I stabbed him in the throat with a kunai."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Yūmaru-chan," Rin stated seriously, "You were merely defending yourself. He was going to kill you, but you beat him to it. You killed him before he could kill were defending yourself, and I, including Sunako, have felt what you have felt."

I looked up at Sunako, who still managed to look a combination between bored and cold, "Does... does it get any better?" I asked him.

Thankfully, I didn't need to explain what I said, because he understood what I was trying to say right away. "Yes," he said softly, and he bent slightly to get down to my level, "You will never forget who you kill, and it will haunt you for a long time, but I promise, it will get better. Never forget that you're not alone. Every ninja has felt like you at some point in their lives."

I smiled slightly at his surprisingly kind words, and I bowed at the waist, "Thank you, Kazekage-sama," I whispered.

Sunako raised his eyebrow, but thankfully didn't comment, "Now," he said briskly, "You wish to take the girl on as an apprentice, Rin?"

"Obviously," Rin smirked.

"Very well," Sunako replied, "Follow me to my office and we'll get the paperwork sorted out."

I followed him to his office like a happy puppy.

The paperwork was sorted out surprisingly quickly and when I returned home later that afternoon, Takashi was waiting for me, Akito clinging onto one of his legs.

Takashi's face was grim as he took in the happy aura surrounding me, "Finally got what you wanted?" he questioned bitterly.

I brushed off his words; they barely affected me now. I understood how he felt; I may not have fought in a war, but I knew a fraction of the anguish he was constantly feeling. He may hide it behind a happy mask, but his soul was dark and tortured underneath.

"You're not alone, Onii-chan," I said softly, reaching out to him. He stiffened when my hand made contact to his cheek.

I brushed his bangs from his face and cupped his cheek, and Takashi snarled, "What the fuck are you doing?"

Akito whimpered at the harsh words, but I just said, "You feel alone even though I'm here, even though your entire family is here. I kind of understand now. That's why I want to get stronger. So tha no one has to go through what you did."

"You're not the one who had to fight in a fucking war!" he snarled.

Akito burst into tears, "Stop screaming!" he wailed, placing his hands over his ears.

"He is the reason why!" I snapped, pointing my my free hand at Akito, "He is the reason why we still fight, why you still fight, even after feeling like this. Don't think I haven't noticed the nightmares or the moodswings. I've felt the same thing!" I softened a little at his face, "I killed a man, Takashi, and I will never forget it, just as you've killed and will never forget. I know you're haunted and you're suffering. But you're not alone."

"Why become a shinobi then?" he questioned in a monotone voice.

"So no one has to go through what we did, what you did. So that Akito can grow up safe and happy. If I die, so be it. But I will die knowing that he will never have to know war or fighting or death, so that he never has watch the life leave a man's eyes knowing you were the one that killed them."

Takashi's eyes softened as I let my hand fall from his face. He reached for me, wrapping his arms around me in a tight embrace, burying his face in my hair.

"I understand now," he rasped into my hair, "But I'm not sorry for what I said. I promised Otou-san I would protect you and Akito. You being a civillian would have been a safer life. You would never know war or the feeling of your hands stained with blood. But you've chosen your path now and I can't stop you. Instead, I'll support you with everything I have. You're my little sister and I love you."

"I love you, too, Onii-chan," I muttered.

"Love you, Yūyū," Akito piped up, causing the both of us to smile.

Akito was innocent, and he would never know the feeling of having his hands stained with blood. He wouldn't be haunted.

Takashi would make sure of it.

I would make sure of it.

He was my reason for being a shinobi, and if he never had to know the horrors that we had felt, we could both die in peace knowing we had protected the one thing of Dad we had left.