Chapter 1

It had been six years since then and Zaku was no better off. He was still an urchin – scraping in bins for a living – but there was more food in Kohona than there had ever been in Rice Field Country. He had quickly learnt that stealing meant worse than a beating.

Once he'd stolen off a sleeping man, but the man wasn't sleeping and he caught Zaku in a Shadow Possession Jutsu until the ten-year-old gave the food back. Zaku had no choice but to obey, as the man threatened to strangle him with his jutsu.

Yes, there were worse things than beatings. After that incident, Zaku reverted to scrounging in bins behind restaurants in the hopes of finding a small morsel. More often than not the mice had already nibbled at the food scraps but there wasn't any choice in the matter. He had to eat.

Sometimes he wondered if he should have accepted the strange man's offer of power but every time he told himself that he'd made the right decision. Power wasn't something any kid should strive for; it had killed his parents. Zaku was now old enough to know right from wrong and he knew that the search for power would twist him into an unfeeling demon. He would gladly remain an urchin just as long as he retained his sense of self.

Unlike Rice Field Country, where he'd slept in doorways, he had a little alley to call his home. It was right behind Ichiraku Ramen and he slept on a pile of cardboard boxes, protected by some old furniture that the ramen shop owner had thrown out a long time ago. His only belongings were too-big Shinobi sandals, a baggy tan jumpsuit, a rusty old kunai and a small box filled with river pebbles. The kunai was always tucked away underneath the pebbles and it was his prized possession, even though he didn't know how to use it.

The day began like always. Zaku woke up just before dawn and searched through the bins behind the ramen shop. He found nothing so he crossed the dark street to the grocers, shaking slightly with the pre-dawn cold. Several bins were behind the grocers and he dove into them, wrinkling his nose against the smell. A low rumbling sounded, which he automatically knew to be his stomach. Two bruised apples were nestled between sticky wrapping paper and he extracted them with some difficulty, pulling ripped pieces of paper from the apple skin. This would do until midday.

He didn't even bother to go back to his home and instead crouched beside the icy-cold metal bins, chewing the sticky apples like an animal. Hunger had taken over and drove him to halt all other movements until the apples were finished. He wiped his mouth with a tacky hand and winced as moist lips stuck to his fingers. It was bath time, and he hated bath time.

Only the baker was awake while Zaku returned to his home. The thick, portly woman stepped away from the urchin, wrinkling her nose at the smell of his clothes. Yes, it was definitely bath time. Pre-dawn was the best time to bathe because no one else was awake.

Zaku sat on his cardboard bed and pulled on his too-big sandals, tightening them as best as he could around his child-sized feet. He knew that he wouldn't grow to be big and strong like some of the other boys his age because he didn't get good food like they did. He didn't get enough.

Cold seeped into his clothes and he stepped into the first light of day, squinting against the orange light. He raised his hand to protect his face and moved quickly through the deserted streets, wanting to get to the creek before anyone was up. The sandals flopped over his feet and he almost fell but stilled before tripping. He set off again, slower this time, lowering his head to the sun.

The path to the creek was well-known to Zaku. He often went there to bathe and clean his clothes; however he didn't get water from there. Water was retrieved from the village well by everyone, including him. Zaku reached the creek just as the sun came over the horizon.

He stripped and ran straight into the water, glancing around furtively. From there he grabbed his jumpsuit and scrubbed it in the water, allowing its clear blue to wash away the filth on his hands and body. The stickiness retreated from his fingers and mouth and he hurriedly scrubbed his feet with a pebble, watching the dirt float away. He dunked his head under and scrubbed his wild brown hair until his scalp ached. When his jumpsuit was clean enough, he laid it on the bank of the creek and retreated into the water, hiding his body.

Zaku was very small and scrawny for a fourteen-year-old. Each of his ribs could be seen and his flesh sunk into his bones, surrounding tired black eyes. He had no body fat and hid it under the baggy jumpsuit where no one could see him.

It took ten minutes for his jumpsuit to go from soaking to damp. He pulled it on and tucked the sandals under his arm, sitting on the grass beside the creek and letting the rising sun coat him in warmth. The yellow sun almost lulled him to sleep but he snapped his eyes open quickly, standing and shaking his entire body to get rid of the last vestiges of moisture and cold. It was time to return to the village and face the day.

Yawning, the urchin tugged on the sandals and walked back to the village awkwardly, folding his arms. His hair hung limply around his face, a few dry strands sticking up haphazardly. All attempts to comb his hair into submission had failed. It was a force to be reckoned with.

Many people were awake by the time Zaku reached the village and he averted his eyes from those walking by him. He was aware that a trail of water followed him and hoped that no one would slip and fall. There was no way he wanted to attract attention from anyone because it wouldn't end well. His experiences with adults had taught him that much. Instead of going back home he went to one of the side streets, one with a cobbled ground and yellow fences. His favourite tree lined the alley and he climbed up and onto a thick branch, lying on his stomach and wrapping his arms and legs around it. From this position he could see and hear everything for several streets and honestly, there wasn't much for him to do but people-watch.

The presence of unfamiliar faces disconcerted him. After lying there for an hour he'd fallen asleep, only to be woken by a fight between three Sand-nin and six Leaf-nin. He recognised the Leaf-nin from around the place, though he didn't know their names. Three of them were Genin, he was sure, but the other three were children and couldn't be older than eight. Zaku retreated into the shade of the tree and watched the fight nervously – Shinobi made him anxious. Why were there Sand-nin in Kohona?

Oh, it was the beginning of the Chuunin exams. He'd almost forgotten.

"Hey squirt, budge over."

The voice shocked him and he slipped from his position in the tree, falling onto the ground with a hard thud. His gaze misted over for a moment before alighting on three figures crouched on the branch he'd just been lying on. They wore the designation of Otogakure, the new Village Hidden in the Sound. Two were boys and one was a girl. One boy had bandages around his face and the other had the beginnings of a beard. The girl had knee-length hair with a bow tied to the end. They stared at him with dislike.

"You should watch where you're going," the bandaged boy said unkindly.

"Urchin," the girl muttered, wrinkling her nose at Zaku's wrinkled jumpsuit. He looked away from them and rolled over, closing his ears to the laughter coming from the three teens in the tree above him. Climbing to his feet, he moved away slowly and hunched his shoulders over.

Maybe he should have accepted the strange man's offer, but who knows what kind of person he would have become. Zaku didn't want to seek power, he really didn't. He just wanted some hot food and a roof over his head. Power was overrated. He nodded to himself and set off with a more confident spring in his step.

Ichiraku Ramen was open when he went back home. He curled up on his cardboard bed and stretched, touching a hand to his chest and feeling his bony ribs. The back door to the ramen shop opened and the owner's daughter, Ayame, came out with a box to throw into the bin. She was only four years older than Zaku and was quite pretty. She looked at grubby Zaku with soft eyes.

"Good morning Zaku," she said softly. "Are you hungry?"

Zaku's heart pounded. "Yes."

"I have some vegetables from yesterday that chichi didn't use and they've gone off so I can't serve them to customers. Would you like them?"

He licked his lips. "Yes please."

Ayame smiled and handed over the box. "Try not to make yourself sick Zaku."

"I won't," the urchin said softly, eyes locked on the box in his lap. Carrots, spinach and potatoes filled it to the brim and his stomach began to scream at the sight. Ayame nodded and went back into the shop, closing the door quietly behind her. Zaku immediately grabbed the nearest potato and shoved the hard vegetable into his mouth, chewing like an animal. The hunger hit him and he ate and ate until three potatoes, two bundles of spinach and a carrot rested easily inside his stomach.

He burped contentedly and wiped his face with his sleeve, staring at the box of culinary treasures he held in his lap. Why had Ayame been so kind? No one had ever voluntarily given the urchin food before and it was a new experience for him. Even after living behind Ichiraku's for almost six years, Ayame had never given him food before. That might be because she'd only recently started working in the shop to help out her chichi Teuchi: the owner. Whatever the case, Zaku was grateful.

Tears welled behind his eyes for the first time since he arrived at Kohona, but he forbade them to fall.