"Kira, do me a favor and stay here. I don't think it would be wise for Naruto and Sasuke to be out here by themselves overnight."
Kira opened her mouth to protest, but knew it wouldn't do any good. With Zabuza still hanging over their heads like a ton of bricks and the appearance of that strange woman gathering herbs earlier that day, Kira's suspicion couldn't of been any higher. She closed her eyes, nodding.
"Fine."
Kakashi raised an eyebrow, surprised the girl agreed so quickly. But he wasn't going to be one to complain. "Thanks, I will see you at dinner."
Now, Kira sat up in a tree–watching her two annoyingly stubborn team mates like a certified stalker. They refused to give up and go in for some much needed rest, insisting that they needed to make it up to the top before they did anything else.
Sighing, Kira turned to face the setting sun. It dipped down, looking as if it was resting atop the water. Waves rolled into the shore, the foam sinking into the sand. Kira found herself climbing higher to get a better view. The sun reflected off the water, giving it a slightly orange hue. It reminded her of Naruto's ugly orange jumpsuit.
When one is stuck up in a tree, practically babysitting two boys who look like shit and probably smell even worse, you don't think about boyfriends and silly stuff like that. No, if you are anything like Kira Takeda, fancy boxed chocolates and cheesy not-so-original dates are a very rare and slightly abnormal affair on the mind. Instead, you watch in disgust as sweat pours off their shiny red faces, dribbles down the back of their necks, and stains their shirts–wondering how the hell girls could even consider dirty, smelly guys even relatively attractive.
You play a game where you think of different ways to kill people and dispose of the bodies. The more violent, the better. You go over the precise form and velocity it takes to throw a perfect punch. The feeling you get when you watch the spin of a kunai and the sound it makes as it hits its target.
You think about how just months ago, you never would've expected to be demoted from your position as an ANBU agent, let alone placed on a team of Genin. You couldn't even fathom ever having a sensei again, or team mates that were actually your age for once. Or that your entire family was dead.
All that hard work you did to be where you were at was for nothing. You worked through the blood, sweat, and tears only to be thrown back into the garbage bin. Discarded–like yesterday's newspaper. Tossed out like some moldy, overripe piece of trash.
Inside, you weren't sure whether to be mourning over your parent's deaths, or your own self-pity. You had fully prepared yourself for the idea of death, knowing that as a ninja, you would put your life on the line everyday. You had to be willing to take the risks, for the sake of the village and your family.
A ninja never shows emotion...
It was one of the Shinobi Rules. The one Kira Takeda had the most trouble dealing with. As much as she wanted to, Kira could never tame the raw anger and passion that seemed to burn inside her. And when provoked, she found that these feelings tended to run amok.
Even as a child, her mother had recognized her spitfire personality and always had to use the softest of voices when Kira was upset or throwing a tantrum. Fighting fire with fire only gets you ashes. So, when Kira started shedding the tears, her mother would go and do her best to calm her. Offering toys and sweets of all kinds. But nothing seemed to work. That's where the solution of fighting came in.
One day, Neikan Takeda came home early from training only to find his young sister a sobbing mess on the floor. Sighing, he picked her up and took her outside. He gave his mother his famous shit-eating grin as she sent him a disapproving look–for his lunch was still sitting untouched on the counter. She rolled her eyes as he made his way out the door, his little sister bouncing in his arms.
