Batting black lashes against the rays of sun that reflected off the glass of the window Kugiko brought a pale hand up to brush the crust off of her eyes. With her eyes still closed she debated between keeping her eyes shut for a couple more minutes or moving her sore legs and stepping onto the floor. After careful thought she decided to bite back her exhaustion and move.

Maybe waking up only hurt for her, or maybe waking up was a universally painful thing for everyone but liars.

Either way she knew her thin calves were going to be sore until the next day.

With small slow steps she made her way to the bathroom to brush her teeth, wash her face, and comb her hair.

The rusted door knob groaned and cried as she turned it to open the bathroom door. Not even the door knob wanted to be used this early.

Looking forward she faced herself in the mirror. Her grey eyes had bags underneath them making them look even more gloomy than usual. On an average day her eyes could be fondly described as the color of altostratus clouds, but they could also less flatteringly be compared to the color of wet cement.

Splashing some water on her face helped her wake up a little and cleared most of the oils from sleeping from her skin. It also got her hair wet. So she plucked her brush from the counter and ran it threw her shoulder length black locks. She had always wanted long hair, but she usually didn't get what she wanted. Her hair was too fine and got split ends easily. The longest it would grow was to her shoulder blades.

After the brush could be pulled threw her hair with relative ease she set it back down on the counter and brushed her teeth.

While she scrubbed her morning breathe away she took a couple moments to observe her face. She still had almost all her baby fat on her cheeks despite being so skinny, her nose was rather delicate with a bump in the center, and her eyes were wide but sloped at the sides. Her mother used to say out of all her children she was surprised that Kugiko was born on a Friday and not Wednesday, because her appearance reminded her of either a cornered rabbit or an old worn doll. She never felt like she fit her appearance.

Finishing her morning bathroom routine she made her way to her old wood desk and only window.

The scroll she had started yesterday still needed to be finished despite her swollen fingers wanting to be soaked in hot water, maybe later if she had enough time after lunch she's soak her fingers in hot water.

Dipping her pen she got to work and tried to focus, but a tired mind will always look for ways to escape thinking.

Between the letters O and W and the shadow by her hand she glanced at the window and saw a small piece of white fluttering in the wind and grasping to the oak by the tips of its fingers.

Kapa wouldn't mind too much, or even know if she got up to see what was on the tree. It might even be something important. Even though the old man Kapa was bitter and grumpy, it wouldn't hurt to have someone say something to her as long as it wasn't anything cruel.

Using her desk and her white knuckles to push herself up she silently crept to the door, down the fall, carefully down the stairs and outside.

Being whipped by the wind the small square piece of paper looked like it was stuck to the tree almost by nothing.

The poor thing looked like the only thing holding it in place was will.

Smiling Kugiko reached up to grasp the paper. But it wriggled out of her grip.

Curiously she pulled at the paper again.

"I guess you have a stronger than I thought little friend." She almost whispered to the small white sheet.

Using all her upper arm strength, gravity, and a small jump, she was able to pull the paper off with slight rip to its side.

"Better your side than mine, little paper." She giggled.

Opening the folded paper up she read what was written inside.

You shouldn't leave notes in a dark forest. Someone might think you're trying to talk to someone who lives in this forest. The kind of person who lives in a forest like this wouldn't be someone you'd like to meet.

Dumbly blinking and with an open mouth grin. Kugiko forgetting her mortality, took a pen out from behind her ear and began to write a reply back.

Maybe if she ever paid back her debt and became an actual writer she could write about this. She had been feeling insecure lately in her amount of life experience and maybe a pen pal could change that about her.

Maybe they'd tell her what snow felt like, or what the ocean smelled like, maybe they'd even tell her whether or not your voice actually echoes in cave when you talk.

She had always wanted to visit an empty cave to see if she could talk to the echo of her voice. She had always wondered if her echo would sound different from her.

What kind of person would live in a forest like this that would respond to a note on tree?

Between adrenaline and excitement, Kugiko couldn't tell which one she was experiencing. But the thought of someone, anyone, responding to her note made her happy and terrified. After all if it happened once maybe it would happen twice?

Unknown to Kugiko a figure shrouded in shadows stood on a faraway branch watching her write back to a note she wasn't supposed to. Caught between amusement, irritation, and apathy. Konan loosely spun a kunia with her fingertips.

It would be three weeks before she had to report back to the Amegakure base and she wouldn't want a little mouse getting herself killed writing "poems" to strangers in one of the biggest meeting grounds for black market dealings.

Although she could ultimately care less what happened to her and the girl's death would hardly touch the blood already on her hands. She could use some entertainment while she waited for her targets to arrive. Maybe saving a little mouse would provide that.

If she got to close to her she could always kill the mouse herself. The pros seemed to be outweighing the cons and the interaction seemed relatively costless.

It seemed to Konan that she had found something to occupy her time in the forest.

Authors Note: For those wondering why Kugiko's Mom said she was more like a Wednesday child. Here is the poem that's referencing.

"Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe,

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday's child works hard for a living,

But the child who is born on the Sabbath day

Is bonnie and blithe and good and gay."

Sorry it took me so long to update this. I had a lot going on in my life and I still do but I'd like to finish this fic. Thanks for reading!

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