Big shoutout to Outcast001 for hooking me up with the OC's I needed.

Unfortunately, there's only so much Zabuza I can write in one go without needing to take a break and explore other stories.

This one in particular is staged at two places, both far away from the southern sea.

Drilling the newly dubbed 'Collaboration Jutsu: Demon Wind Bomb' was a terrible pain in Sasuke's neck. There's only so many times he could take Naruto fumbling the throw before wanting to punch his lights out. The fact that Sakura had been alternating between hitting him and the dobe with false surroundings genjutsu meant that, more often than not, the transformed shuriken would fly clean past the training dummy instead of grazing it like it's supposed to. Needless to say, Kakashi wasn't much of a help either, reading up on his favorite series took precedence over training his squad personally...

"Dammit Naruto! I told you not to throw that hard! Hitting the ground still hurts!" Snapped the Uchiha, dusting himself off for the umpteenth time. The dobe couldn't throw a fuma shuriken to save his life, and it was seriously grating, given the fact that the only way the technique could have punch was if Sasuke was the one to transform. "Didn't they teach you how to throw these at the academy?"

The blonde gave him a blank look. "Uhm...no. I don't remember it very well, but I'm pretty sure Mizuki-sensei told me that I'm not supposed to touch the big shurikens for some reason..." Actually, when he thought about it, Naruto didn't get the chance to familiarize himself with almost any of the non-standard equipment due to various reasons. He didn't mind at the time since it meant less work, but right now it seemed to be a problem.

Ready to reprimand him for lacking in yet another ninja field, Sasuke paused, realizing what his teammate had actually said. He was explicitly told not to participate? Why? It made no sense. Sure, Naruto was downright terrible at most areas, fully earning the title of dead-last, but he did have his specialties; stealth and taijutsu came to mind. However, hearing that he was intentionally kept away from classes meant that he'll be lacking in some areas, which wasn't really good. If Naruto skipped out on some of the basic skills, it could cost them missions in the future.

Knowing that, Sasuke did what was the most logical thing to do - he bugged Kakashi about it.

While the jonin was enjoying his downtime, his eye did wander over to his precious students every once in a while. After the third time he noticed Sasuke ending up in the dirt, and writing off the possibility that Naruto was doing it on purpose, Kakashi took to counting how long it would take for the Uchiha to figure out that his teammate is obviously lacking in a basic shinobi skill for some reason. It took exactly three more tumbles before the boy's patience reached its' end.

With a sigh, the lazy jonin got up, walked over to where the two boys were arguing over the difficulty of transforming into a normal shuriken, and proceeded to bonk both on the head. Having gained their attention, he took the fuma shuriken they used as a transforming model, aimed at the target, and let loose. It flew as expected, cutting a thin line in the target's side, just deep enough for them to see that the shuriken actually made contact. After Naruto stopped staring at it in awe, the copycat proceeded to explain the differences in form between throwing a regular and a fuma.

After a couple more botched attempts, the blonde was letting loose shuriken after shuriken, each one hitting roughly the same spot. He didn't need to be as good as Sasuke, but the way he was was, simply put, unacceptable. It didn't take long for them to correctly perform it the first time. Naruto would toss a myriad of pointy things at the target, hiding the transformed Sasuke along with them. As soon as he flew past the target, Sasuke would release the jutsu, and let loose with a fireball. After a few tries, the dummy was riddled from the front, and charred from the back.

Technically, the academy-level transformation jutsu only cloaked the shape of the caster and did nothing to change it. The actual transformation jutsu, used on the field by shinobi throughout the world, was considerably more chakra intensive, but covered the physical aspect as well. The only problem was that the technique couldn't make the user larger than he or she actually is.

Shrinking wasn't an issue, as the amount of chakra lying dormant in any shinobi could easily take the concetrated mass that came with compression; adding more size and mass required nature transformation, and only earth and water did the trick, due to their more stable nature when compared to the other three. The field-ready transformation jutsu was D-ranked, and was usually learned naturally after some use of the inferior academy version. Further refinement of the jutsu was only practiced by infiltration, espionage and assassination specialists.

"Oy, teme! That hurt!" Came a shriek from the blonde. The accused didn't even bother looking at him, "You should've dodged."

"Oh yeah? Dodge this!"

And so began yet another in what would be a very long series of brawls between the two boys.

Neither Kakashi or Sakura decided to intervene, the former yawning and turning a page of his book, and the latter being too busy admiring the fact that she made the stream next to the training field look pink-colored. She wondered if she could cast a genjutsu that made everything taste like bacon; that would make dieting sooooo much easier...

"Kakashi-sensei, should we stop them?" Sakura asked, concern fairly obvious on her face. The stream slowly returned to its natural color as her focus dwindled. The jonin in question looked up, blinked, and disappeared. Before she realized what had happened, Sakura heard two yelps, turning to see both Naruto and Sasuke half-buried in the ground. Kakashi dusted himself off and returned to the spot he was sitting on earlier, picking up exactly where he left off.

Comically enough, the boys still kept snarling and shouting at each other, even when buried up to their shoulders in the earth. Apparently the statement that boys will be boys holds true even for genin. Sakura gave a sigh, then scurried over to Sasuke to start digging him out of the ground. She'd do the same for Naruto later, when he finally accepts that he'll never catch up to Sasuke. Guts are good and all, but nothing beats the talent, drive and coolness of her beloved Sasuke...

It was a fairly standard morning in the Village Hidden in the Waterfall. The sky was cloudless and clear, and the sun was shining brightly, even though it had risen only minutes ago. Most the civilian populace still slept, and what few shinobi were stationed inside the village itself were struggling to keep alert. Past the entrance, the village square and leader's palace, began the training fields. In Taki, they essentially fanned out from a single point, spreading towards the northwestern wall. Most were open fields or jutsu-made training areas, but there were a couple with natural caves, coves and crevices that gave the training fields an even more 'wild' look than most the training fields had.

As one of the five minor shinobi villages, besides Kusa, Yuki, Ame and Hoshi, Taki stood north of the Land of Fire, hidden in a tropical forest that grew due to the natural crater-like shape of the land itself. It did not have a Kage, not in title nor skill, but it had a leader. The leader was considered the village's guardian, as well as the supreme authority on the village's unique asset, the Hero's Water - a special water that converted itself into chakra upon entering the body. Usage of it stressed the body and the inner gates, causing deterioration that would drastically shorten one's lifespan if used regularly. While many of the village clans tried to circumvent that cost over the years, not one idea really worked, which ultimately led to a law being passed that prohibits experimentation with the water. While everyone knew it wasn't a good solution, it was by far the safest one, and as a minor village whose only real defense was the brilliant concealment system it used, they simply couldn't afford taking a risk that might hurt their already feeble ranks.

However, despite the moderate isolation, Taki's daily life was very similar to any other major village. They had three-man squads, they took missions, they gave out bingo books and kept a library of Hiden and Kinjutsu. Some were brave enough to say that after the ruins of Uzu, Taki's jutsu library was the hardest place to get into in the whole world. More than once did the patrols have to take down Otogakure scouts who wandered a bit too close to the village for its' liking.

However, this one day would have something uncommon happening. There would be a visiting ambassador from Iwa, sent in order to clarify some things regarding mission authority for jobs at the Iwa-Taki border. Like all foreign shinobi who were invited to Taki, the man would have to find a pre-determined clearing and wait for a squad of shinobi to escort them disoriented and blindfolded to the village itself.

The ambassador intended to clear up the misunderstanding as quickly and efficiently as possible, and that's why he requested to set out alone. In his place, the traveler walked, navigating his way through the Land of Waterfalls for the first time in his life.

At the time, he did not know that he would be late, and that he would have to ask one of Taki's most promising young teams for help and directions in order to make it on time. Following the scroll was taxing work sometimes, but he didn't complain; he had no right to. A debt was a debt, and paying one was inevitable. He hopes that the negotiations will be short.

Takigakure's Training field 13 was often avoided by less-experienced teams, or generally by people who are weak of heart. Despite the serene aura of the open field and the soothing hum of the waterfall, the field was infamous for being a site of constant explosions, floods and general noise. It was the training ground for the Lucky 13, Jonin Manabu Hashigawa's genin team. It was currently on fire.

"WHO THE HELL INVENTS A GAME CALLED EXPLOSIVE TAG TAG!?" Screamed a auburn-haired boy, zigzagging past the barrage of kunai and explosives thrown at him. While he prided himself on the fact that he was built like an oak, and was growing to become as tall as one, his imposing frame did little to help him in the day's chosen 'training'. He had almost singed his jacket for the sixth time that day, and it was slowly starting to get to him. Kichirou Fukui was not a very happy genin at the moment.

A bit further off, his teammate, a short and dark-eyed boy with hair as white as pure marble leapt to the side, getting tossed like a ragdoll due to one of the many, many explosions. While he wasn't nearly as bothered as his taller teammate, he was more concerned, due to the implications of his results. As a bladesman, getting bombarded by explosive tags was pretty high on the scale of least desirable scenarios. With fire, smoke and shock coming from every direction, it was tough focusing on an opponent. That, and the fact that sensei insisted that they make the 'tag' part of explosive tag tag work by actually having to chase him down, made the whole endeavor a lot more taxing than he considered necessary. Being fast helped, but only to a point. He sighed. "Aya and her explosive tags..."

Almost immediately, a voice came from his side, its owner somehow picking up on the words through the constant barrage of blasts. "Something wrong with my tags? Oh, I know! You want me to make them higher-yield, isn't it? SENSEI, CAN I CALL A TIME OUT? I WANT TO GIVE YOU THE BIGGER TAGS!"

The girl had bright orange hair, something that often served as a joke to her teammates, due to the color being completely counterproductive on stealth assignments, as well as deep teal eyes. Her skin was very pale, something uncharacteristic for a Taki shinobi, but otherwise not taking away from her appearance. She was sweating profusely, and the braid she usually wore her hair in was just about to undo itself from all the jumping and dashing around. Part of her wanted to scream in joy when she saw her tags working their magic like this; the other part was too busy keeping her alive and whole.

A bit further away, a man hung upside-down from a tree branch, staring intently at the three genin running for their lives. Up above, three of his water clones were going ham, throwing tags and kunai everywhere. While technically a medic-nin, Manabu served as a frontline shinobi due to his unnaturally high chakra reserves, an advantage that saved more than a few lives when the big fights broke out. He wore the standard light vest every Taki shinobi wore after making chunin, kept his hair ANBU-short, and wore his headband around his neck. He also very much enjoyed his job as a teacher.

"Aaaand...TIME'S UP." He flipped through half a dozen hand seals, sending water from the small lake on the field after the students, forcefully dragging them into the lake and putting out any stray fires that are left along the way. He concluded that trying the bigger tags is an idea he'll be entertaining soon enough.

"Finally!" Shouted Kichirou, splashing down into the lake without concern for his clothes. Getting the jacket wet was alright, burning it was a completely different story. He was just glad that the worst of it was done. After a quick wash, they'd start combat practice, something he enjoyed far more than running for his life from the creations of his mad bomber teammate. Seriously, who the hell likes explosions that much...

Soon enough, he was joined by his two teammates, both of whom casually leapt over him and proceeded to strip on their way to the waterfall, where they intended to take a very, very cold shower. If something could be a peculiarity about Team 13, it wasn't the nigh-infinite morale they had, or the fact that they hold the best mission record for a genin team in the village; If there was something peculiar about that team, it was the fact that seeing each other in the nude didn't bother them at all. Nobody knew of the quirk, though, so they never really needed to explain. Daisuke doubted that they themselves knew why it doesn't bother them. He figures that it's most likely because all three of them are pragmatics at heart, so forcing modesty was just a waste of time.

After the shower, it'd usually boil down to Kichirou fighting either of his teammates, leaving the remaining one to go meditate (in Aya's case), or harass their Sensei (in Daisuke's case). This time, however, it wasn't so simple. Apparently, round two was ninja hide and seek with lunch on the line.

However, before they could scatter, their Sensei turned to the tree line, obviously expecting someone to show up. The man wore a standard red Iwa uniform, as well as a headband around his head. The only thing that showed his status as a political figure was the fact that his flak jacket was the diplomatic version without pockets, used as formal wear whenever shinobi needed to appear as shinobi in public. He gave them a friendly wave before jogging over.

"Hello there! Hope I'm not interrupting something?" His face was a bit red, probably due to navigating unfamiliar terrain. While shinobi always kept themselves in great physical shape, they also preferred moving through familiar areas. The unknown had a tendency of getting you winded quickly.

The jonin looked the man over, not noticing anything that might classify him as exceptionally dangerous. Every shinobi was dangerous to a degree, but this one didn't seem to stick out in any way. That only made him tighten his guard. "No, not really. What can we do for you, Iwa-nin?"

The man smiled, dusting his clothes off. "Well, I need to get to the Ishibate Estate, there is something I need to discuss with the clan head. However, since I tried taking a shortcut through the training fields, I ended up getting lost. Don't suppose you could help a fellow shinobi out?"

Manabu eyed the suspicious ninja one more time before shrugging. "Team 13, your new assignment is a D-rank mission. You are to escort this man to the Ishibate clan Estate. Payment will be received in the form of Ice-Cream. Go now, and don't look back!" He finished with a dramatic wave of his hand, making the genin almost cringe.

However, they knew better than to call out their sensei for being lame, and simply took formation around the ambassador and headed west towards the man's destination.

Killing an Iwa ambassador isn't something the young man expected to do. Then again, he was supposed to be trained for anything and everything, so he guessed assassination fell under one of those categories. It was times like that that he was glad he carried a shovel around; hellishly convenient for getting rid of a body.

In truth, he didn't need to manually bury the man, but a part of him knew that going through the ritual of digging and burying gave meaning to the kill, it gave the opponent some of the honor he had lost dying to a silent killing technique. Honor was important to some shinobi, and the young man still didn't find a way to figure out if his target cares about it or not from appearance alone. Not like he can simply ask them, that'd give away the fact that he was actively trying to shove a shovel blade into the side of their neck, and would therefore be counterproductive, even if it did reveal the shinobi's stance on honor.

"Psst, Aya, how are we supposed to act around these diplomatic bigshots?"Murmured the taller boy, thinking that his whisper was quiet enough not to get picked up on. He was wrong.

"I don't know. Treat him like you'd treat one of the other teams' sensei. Just don't call him sensei." Whispered the girl, subconsciously picking up pace.

"Hey, hey. Knock it off you two. He's a shinobi as well, he can probably hear you." Muttered the white-haired boy, never taking his eyes off of their 'client'. It was terribly fishy to him, but he couldn't go against orders. Best hope sensei is tagging along, or that the man really isn't a threat.

Soon enough, they were moving outside of the training field area, and into the village itself. The Ishibate clan were one of Taki's three major clans, specializing in ninja arts and tools over standard jutsu. The main difference between a jutsu and a ninja art is the medium. A jutsu can happen as long as the user has a hand to help mould chakra with, and knows how to use the jutsu in question. A ninja art requires something in order to be performed. The infamous, and improperly named, Hidden Mist Jutsu is in fact a ninja art, as it uses water. The origin of said water can be chakra based, however.

The Ishibate were known for abusing the natural properties of ninja arts to manipulate the battlefield in many innovative ways, most famous of which was the trick when one ninja conjures up a water jutsu one shoots off a fire-based jutsu, and the last one then uses an art to transform the water into oil. The technicalities of tricks like that are what kept the clan the most respected academics in the entire village. They were also the primary sealmasters of the village, even though other families dabbled in the art on occasion.

What the Iwa Ambassador had to do with them was anyone's guess, as far as Daisuke was concerned. Still, he kept his mouth shut like a good genin, and led the group to the estates.

"Alright sir, this is it. Would you like us to stay and show you the way back to the leader's offices when you're done?"

The politician shook his head, smiled, then reached deep into his pocket. After fishing around for a while, he brought up a tattered page from a book, and handed it out to Aya. "Take this as my way of apologizing for inconveniencing you like this. If I'm not mistaken, you are the shinobi that could benefit most from that page." With that, the man walked towards the gate, greeted the guard, and was walked inside.

The three genin immediately looked at their 'reward'. It was a hand-written page, full of sealing formulas and theories. It took Aya a couple of seconds to realize what they were about.

"No way...NO WAY!" She squealed, bringing the paper even closer to her face. Her teammates looked on in confusion. Keeping in mind that most her waist had scrolls, pouches and even her headband hanging from it, it was quite the sight seeing her hop up and down all excited like that. Even her braid, not longer than shoulder-length, flopped up and down with every giddy hop.

"Eh, mind explaining what has you this excited? I'm glad you're happy, but you're also being loud..." Muttered her teammate, deciding to lean against the Estate's walls for the time being.

"This...this is a formula for an explosive tag." The girl mumbled absently, eyes still fixed on the tattered page. "And by the looks of it... it's a design that allows the same tag to explode multiple times..."

Kichirou looked on in horror, while Daisuke gave no more reaction than a momentary widening of his eyes. Both boys immediately knew the implications of these news. Their mad bomber teammate just got a really cool new toy to blast everything with. They quickly decided to veto explosive tag tag the next time it came up in the training rotation...

After a while, Aya broke from her daze, copied the contents of the page in her own sealing black book, then stored it away in a pocket scroll she carried around when not on missions. She would soon be having lots of fun reverse engineering the whole thing, but right now the promised payment took priority. She was in the mood for vanilla.

"Alright! Mission complete! We go to the White Wave Ice-Cream shop!" She stated dramatically, then proceeded to drag her teammates towards the village square. The unfortunate boys sighed, giving up to their fate. The shop she mentioned was pretty high-end, so it made sense that they'd go there to cash in on their sensei's promise.

Hiroko Ishibate was a troublesome child to most of her clan. It was expected from all Ishibate to pass the early aptitude test and graduate the academy within a year. They were a family that prided themselves on non-linear thinking and intelligence, so it was embarrassing to have a child, the granddaughter to the clan head, fail that simple test. Due to her birth, she couldn't be just cast out of the clan, as failures usually were, but measures had to be taken, and in her case it was withdrawing any and all support from the clan. If she wanted to keep pursuing the life of a ninja, she wouldn't have any help. Or so they thought.

In truth, the clan head's elder sister, a retired kunoichi pushing seventy years, took pity on the child. She took her under her wing and taught her everything she possibly could teach to a child her age. While their success was limited at first, the woman had nothing but time, so she tried every angle she could come up with until she figured out how best to teach. It wasn't long after that that young Hiroko's progress began rising exponentially, despite the girl's weak frame and poor health. The old woman prided herself on her grand niece's progress, and planned to entrust her with the family's heirloom, a ninja art to topple all other arts, the Ishibate clan's secret weapon.

However, the girl wasn't nearly mature enough, as evidenced by the fact that her teammates had died on their first C-rank mission. It turned out that the client had lied about the mission's expected rank, and the truth was revealed too late. These days, she was either out doing menial D-ranks in order to support herself, playing shogi with those few elders that knew her as a decent challenge, or simply sat in her room on the east side of the compound and read book after book.

After the scandalous deaths of her teammates, some of the clan elders had decided to remove her before she became too much of an issue. She already had poor health for a shinobi, so it wouldn't be too risky to simply poison her. It did not take long for the conspiring elders to choose a suitable candidate to deliver the poison. After all, poisoning her food during clan meals was far too risky, and could endanger them as well.

No, the ideal solution was to find an unwitting pawn to do their bidding, bring her one of those sweets she likes so much, say it's to cheer her up. The 'assassin' was dispatched, sent toward the girl's room. He himself harbored no ill will towards the girl, she was a shinobi and he wasn't. He had no business liking or disliking her. He was simply a member of the clan who decided to take the easy life and be an elder's steward, or more simply put, bitch. He didn't mind though, they were too busy caring about themselves to spare the time to harass him seriously...

"Ah, miss Hiroko, there you are. I was told to bring this to you..." The man began, noticing that the girl was deep into her reading. He leaned over to check what it was, reading the title out loud. "Tale of an utterly gutsy ninja, huh? Never heard of it."

The girl appeared not to have noticed him, as she only casually turned to the next page. The man, apparently intrigued with the book, decided to stay leaning over her and read. Soon, however, there was the sound of someone hurrying down the corridor. Before either of them could react, a man in an Iwa shinobi's uniform appeared at the door, his eyes narrowing at the steward.

Almost instantly, the Iwa ninja launched a fist into the poor man's stomach, sending him to the ground, doubling-over. He then turned to the girl, placing a hand over her mouth to prevent her from making noise. Noise would complicate things.

"It's alright, it's alright. I was sent here to protect you, this man was sent here to poison you." He slowly removed his hand, never once breaking eye contact with the girl. The man on the floor had apparently lost consciousness due to the pain. It was an open handed strike, so it shouldn't harm his organs too much.

"I...I am confused. You say you're here to save me, and yet you wear the uniform of Iwa, a bordering land we often have disputes with. Please explain yourself, or I will press the panic button hidden under my desk." Needless to say, her hand was already hovering just below the desk's surface.

The man blinked, shook his hand, then reestablished eye contact. As a genin, the girl wouldn't recognize the reaction-slowing genjutsu she was placed under. Even if she did, her fate was sealed. The young man, disguised as the Iwa Ambassador, knocked the girl out, then proceeded to escape out the window with her, the man and the cake. Fortunately, the girl's room was close enough to the wall not to warrant any inconvenient guards.

They disappeared back into the forests.

"Uh..." The girl woke up, noticing that she was tied to a tree in the middle of what looked like one of Taki's many training grounds. Her hands were bound with all fingers separate, the way shinobi are meant to be bound. Whoever this Iwa kidnapper is, he was serious. Knowing full well that trying to struggle would only hurt her and drain her energy, Hiroko instead decided to start looking around. It was already dark.

The Ambassador was nowhere in sight, a fire was set up a few steps away from her, the steward lying down almost motionlessly on the other side. His hands were not nearly as tightly bound. The training field itself was a heavily forested one, used for shurikenjutsu practice, as well as tracking. That placed her somewhere between fields 21 and 27.

Soon enough, the Iwa-nin showed up. He dropped some more logs on the flames, then threw what seemed to be a pot onto a makeshift stand over the fire. He noticed that she was awake immediately. "Ah, you're up. I need to finish this business with you quick, else my cover will be blown." With that said, he walked over to her, holding a piece of paper in his hands.

"Three things are about to happen. You will see why what I told you is the truth, you will be given a seal that makes blowing my cover cost you your life, and you'll see me kill the man over there." He then pressed the sheet onto her arm, channeling a bit of chakra into it and imprinting the written seal onto the girl's skin. She reflexively tried to withdraw, but tied down, she didn't have any room to escape.

The seal burned itself into the girl's skin, right below the left elbow. It was shaped like a circle with an array of rectangular symbols etched into it. It was black in color, and didn't hurt nearly as bad as she expected it to.

"As I've said. That seal there makes sure you die if you ever bring up what happened with me." That was a vicious lie, but it was necessary. The seal itself was actually nothing more than a blank seal, timed to fade over a period of six months. It was useless in almost every situation except this one. He'd have to write a chapter on placebo seals when he got the time...

"And now..." He wandered back to the man, sticking something under his nose. With a gasp, the steward woke up, looking around with a frightened look on his face. The young man went about calming him down.

"Easy, easy... Here, have some of this cake, it'll help clear your mind." He said, bringing up the plate that held the poisoned cake towards the man.

Not knowing any better, the poor fool swallowed the whole thing, apparently relaxing. However, not a minute passed, and he suddenly started choking on...something. No matter how hard he hacked and coughed, whatever was lodged in his throat simply refused to leave. If it kept going like this, it was a very real possibility that he would suffocate.

"The White Camellia poison. A real bitch to brew, but creates an allergic reaction that closes up the victim's throat, blocking off the supply of oxygen. His vision will slowly bleed color, then become completely still. Due to the oxygen deprivation, his mind's cells will begin dying rapidly, at a pace no medic is able to keep in check. His death is a painful one." Spoke the young man, voice emotionless as he gazed into the flames.

After another agonizing minute, the steward stopped squirming, a fresh corpse on training field 25. The young man sighed and stood up. With two quick steps, he was picking up the dead body, carrying it off to the side, to a small clearing. The girl only watched, mind too shocked to come up with an appropriate reaction to what's happening to her.

"Now... now you watch me bury him."

As he said that, the man produced a shovel from his long sleeve, and began digging the ground at the clearing. The steward's dead eyes were turned towards the fire, his face frozen in a look of ugly agony. The man kept shoveling, feeling the scent of death and dirt reach his nostrils. It was a fool's job, but someone had to do it...

"You see, the old lady who took you in as her student, she only now realized what had happened. Only now, three hours after the poison was sent, did she catch wind of what was going on. I had to intervene, you are too important to let die." He spoke, not bothering to take his eyes away from the ditch he was slowly creating. His rhythmic motions blended in perfectly with the sounds of the night and the silent bubbling of water at a nearby training field, one with a waterfall.

"I had to protect you, because you can't protect yourself. You need to become a stronger soul, one that can do the protecting instead of needing it..."

"W-What are you talking about?" Stammered the girl, somehow finding her voice after the morbid show she was forced to watch.

"Take ANBU for example. All they do is train and do missions. There's nothing more to their lives than that. You want to know what that leads to? I'll tell you either way," he paused, wiping the formed sweat from his forehead, "It leads to people who are strong, tough, and cold enough to take down a kage if enough band together. All that, just because they could focus their attention on something."

He stopped working, resting the shovel over his shoulder as he turned around to face the girl he kidnapped and tied to a tree. "And look, the ANBU aren't picky about who joins in. Idiots and geniuses are equals behind a mask. Just imagine what you could become if someone of your capacity was to focus on one single goal- becoming tough."

He shrugged, then went back to work. "That's just my opinion, anyway. I saved you now, so you'll live long enough to make the difference I need you to make. Whichever path you choose to take from here on is your call alone."

"What path? What call? You just made me watch you kill a member of my clan, and now you're talking about goals and making a difference!? What's wrong with you!?" She was furious, she was upset, she felt betrayed... All these feelings raged in Hiroko's heart, blurring her vision and making her pulse race. What kind of sick game was this?

"See? Now you're upset, as you should be. But can a ninja really afford to be upset like that? Does it not take focus away from your goal? What is your goal, little girl? What is it that you live for?"

He got no answer, only a dark look and silence. With a shrug, he kept on digging. The hole was gaining size, so he figured that it'd be a nice, shallow grave in a matter of minutes. The one thing left to do is to convince the girl that she needs to become strong.

"How long do you think the old lady is going to be around to protect you? What if they go after her next? I won't be here to save anyone anymore, you know."

"Just shut up!"

He shook his head. "That temper. It's not what a good ninja is like. Take a look at me, for example. I've just forced a man to eat a cake I knew was poisoned, just so I could complete my mission. Now I'm digging the grave for that very man, and will in fact light a candle and offer up a prayer for his soul the moment I'm done with his earthly body. Emotions are to be suppressed. They have no use on the field."

After that, neither of them said anything. The girl closed her eyes and wept silently, and the man finished the grave he was digging. He gently lowered the steward's body into it, covering it up again and kneeling down to offer a prayer. After that was done, he took the pot off of the fire, and began nibbling at whatever he had cooked for himself.

"You don't have a proper goal, girlie, that's why you're weak. That's why you failed that test all those years ago. Seven years, and you're still no better than you were then." That was also a lie, but it played to his advantage. A girl that young in that kind of emotional state wouldn't be able to recall the astounding progress she had made as a shinobi over the past years.

"If you want to be strong, to not have to rely on the old woman or whoever is going to protect you later, you need to become like me and the ANBU. Cold, subdued, calculating, dangerous. It's a do or die world out there, kid."

Having said that, the man picked up his shovel, put away the beads he had used to pray, and walked away into the darkness of the forest.

The next day Iwa sent a letter by hawk explaining that they've recalled their ambassador on an emergency, and that their shinobi will stay away from the disputed border until such a time when the issue is resolved.

Ishibate clan members searched the training fields, finding the shaken Hiroko at field 25 just half an hour after the strange man left. When interrogated, the girl only showed the seal, explaining that it would kill her should she talk. The village's best sealmasters could only repeat her words, claiming that there was no way to get the truth without sacrificing the girl's life.

Three days after the incident, Hiroko went to her mentor and demanded to be allowed into the Taki ANBU desensitization program. She stood in the candlelit attic they used as their classroom, scrolls and books of various sizes and shapes scattered around on the many surfaces present.

The old woman, Futaki Ishibate, sat in her comfortable chair, looking at her protégée's pleading face with an amused expression on her face. It was so unlike the withdrawn and quiet Hiroko to request something so radical... but, if she was honest about her wish...

"I believe..." The woman drawled, endlessly amused with the tense look on her grandniece's face, "I believe that something like that can be arranged, my dear." She finished, tapping her fingers on the wooden armrest.

She licked her lips, taking a quick sip from the glass that stood on the small table to her right. The ruby red liquid disappeared down her throat, its' only remnant a small crimson ring at the bottom of the glass. A smile came to her, and she did not bother concealing it.

"But I wonder if you can take something like the ANBU program. The earliest you can apply is ten years from now, and that's only if you make jonin, my precious Hiroko..." she continued, watching as the shadows flickered across the young girl's face due to the candlelight.

"Maybe the elders were right... maybe you should be removed from the house altogether, hmm?" A brief pause, then more, "You've caused nothing but trouble since that fiasco in the Land of Grass..."

She stood up, letting her robe flow down to the ground, dragging along the thick carpet as she walked around the table and towards the girl. Walking around her a few times, she paid extra attention to every little detail.

The long, coal-dark hair, it's length perfectly suited for one of the clan's less used ninja arts. It flowed down in a long, slightly wavy line, reaching all the way to her thighs. Most Kunoichi would never keep their hair that long, simply because of the impracticality. But young Hiroko thought she knew better...

Her outfit, the standard mesh thrown over a long-sleeved shirt. It looked as tomboyish as it could, but it looked comfortable. Besides, it wasn't right for a young girl such as herself to be running around with a bare chest... some men just couldn't contain themselves...

But most interesting were the gauntlets. Primitive pieces of armor, made from old steel, used back when the tailed beasts were still running wild... They were a family heirloom, left behind by that foolish grandfather of hers. Etchings of snakes and vines, decorations more than anything else, the gauntlets were the girl's last line of defense. The weapons sealed within were perfect in their simplicity, effective at keeping the opponent at bay, and nothing else.

Perhaps...perhaps the girl could endure the ANBU. There was a steel to her look, and there was no doubt about that, but it was a big favor she was asking for...

"Oh, very well... I will send out my letters and you will be accepted into ANBU. I do hope you know what you're getting yourself into, child."

The girl nodded, a small look of relief briefly sparking in her eyes, only to be overshadowed by determination once more.

"I understand, Futaki-sama. I promise I will not fail you."

"That's what they all say... now off with you! Be gone!"

In a hurry, the long-haired genin ducked out of the room, descending down the stairs. If she became strong, she wouldn't be at the mercy of men stronger than her. She would have what she needs to carve her own path, to show Futaki-sama and the rest of the clan that she is indeed worthy of the Ishibate name.

oOoOoOo

Team 13 ate vanilla and strawberry ice cream, due to all the chocolate being sold by the time they arrived to the store.

Right, hope you found the OC's tolerable. They won't be taking over the story, of course, but expect them to become more prominent as the books go on, their presence peaking in Book 3 and from Book 13 on.