The Life and Times

Chapter One: Hashirama screams! Blonde ghosts!

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

This is my first fanfic (that's not a one-shot--well, maybe). You have been warned.

                   ___________________________________________________________

Seeing this strangely clothed girl before him was indeed bewildering for the teenager. Her brightly coloured hair was tied into pigtails, the golden strands flowing down to her lower-back, and her face contained strange whisker markings. Hashirama was unsure how to proceed: to wake or not to wake. He was pretty sure sleeping in the middle of a declared war zone wasn't the best of ideas. Quite suicidal in fact. Maybe she was suicidal? Or perhaps she was bit cocky, a bit smug like Madara, and didn't care all that much where she was sleeping, because she was strong.

Which she probably wasn't; girls just aren't that strong.

Her eyes flutter open, and she blinks slowly, reminding him of his mum's fat cat, Tom, waking up from yet another nap. She scratches her limps, and then stares at him for few long moments. Her eyes seem to light in relization.

"It's you, Hashirama!" Her voice was high and childish, and Hashirama yet again reminded that she was indeed a girl. He never liked them all that much. For one, he was never around them, because he would train with the boys, all while they would learn cooking and cleaning skills. Which, he thought, was lame. And for two, they were just weird. Because they always giggled and blushed, and half the time, Hashirama hadn't the clue as to what they would ramble on about. But he pretended to understand, nodding and eyes widening at intervals, because he didn't want to seem stupid. Because clearly, he isn't stupid, despite Madara's belief that he is stupider than his eagle summoning, which had a habit of flying into trees. Madara's just jealous of his superior intelligence.

The girl rose to her feet while he was thinking, and she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, like Itama when he was younger. Her grin was so large and heavy that Hashirama was worried that she was going to break her face.

Hashirama was unsure how to respond, and quite frankly freaked out that this orange-wearing girl knew his name when he never seen her, or at least from what he can recall. She continues, oblivious to the squirming air, "You're the Hokage who made the village with Ma-something Uchiha—wait, your dead!" Her mouth formed an 'O'. "Gah, ghost!"

"Ah," Hashirama blinks, confuse as to what she was going on about. "I'm a what? Uchiha? What are you talking about?"

"Eh? You're the first to not know Sasuke-teme. He's in my team, dattebayo! He thinks he's so cool with that fireball Uchiha whatever jutsu!" She frowns, and Hashirama is lost by 'Sasuke-teme'. "Kakashi-sensei favours teme over everyone else; he taught him his super awe—hey, hey, you look like teme!" She points exaggeratedly to his dark-haired friend.

He looks sideways to Madara, who is eyeing her like she was a strange alien species. His nose was scrunched up, like a nobleman, and he chin was jutted out. His mouth thinned when she acknowledged him, and Hashirama thinks he does not want to associate with the orange cladded girl. Hashirama agrees.

Much to his silent surprise, he does not tell her to "get lost" or anything of that sort. Instead, he asks her, his voice bored and uncaring, "Is Sasuke part of the Uchiha?"

The girl's scowl deepened. "Yeah, Teme goes on and on about being an Uchiha. Stupid smirking, country-sized egos, fangirl collecting, revengeful Uchihas!"

Fangirl collecting? That didn't seem like the hateful Uchihas he knew. Though, he agreed on the latter part. Though, it was strange they would associate with this talkative girl. From what he'd seen, they seemed to value silence and insightful perspectives. Nothing related to a girl with clothes so bright and cheery that he'd fought not to look away, and a personality to match such clothes perfectly.