Hopes and Dreams

If you're reading this now, please forgive me for my mistakes. I don't plan on giving you an excuse like, 'I was too young to know the difference between right and wrong,' because I did. And I'm sorry to tell you this; I don't regret most of it. These events are what made me who I am to this day. I now know that if you actually care about me, you'll see past my faults and see the person I wish to become.

I wrote my experiences down, because I don't plan on telling you about some of the events face-to-face. Also know this, I will not spare you the details of my relationships, since they to, are a part of me.

These are the recollections of Yume Kitai, and how she sacrificed everything to be accepted.

It was ten years ago to this date. Ten years ago when they brought me hear, to the village hidden in the leaves, Konoha. I was only a five-year-old child when my family thought I would be more accepted, more appreciated if I was relocated. For many years I had thought that I simply wasn't good enough to be a part of the village hidden in the sand. It tore me up inside.

Since I had no family, I had no home. I lived on the streets for over six months. Begging, stealing, I would do anything for food. The day my life finally turned around was just a regular day. I was running through back alleys, away from an angry baker who was now short a loaf of bread. My bare feet were blistering under the strain of running full speed for minutes on end.

I collapsed with a thud against the barrier surrounding Konoha. I looked down at my meager piece of food with a grin. It was the most I've gotten in weeks. After devouring down the morsel of bread I decided to walk to the river for a quick drink. I exited the alley slowly; you never know what could be waiting for you. Stepping out onto the street I was stopped by a burly man with a silly grin and long flowing hair. He staggered to block my path. He was drunk.

Being late at night I knew that he wasn't going to give me change or a nice place to sleep. Also, I could see that he meant me harm. I don't know how, I just can sense people's emotions. At my young age I could only do this on rare occasions, or else my chakra would drain quickly.

I sized the man up; I had never fought anyone so large before. Of course I scrapped with the other homeless children for food once in a while, but those fights were easy. I gazed up at the looming shadow, his hands outstretched, trying to grab me.

I sidestepped his lunge, forced my right leg up and kicked him sharply in the knee. I had only thought to stall him a moment running by to safety, but a sharp crack told me something more had happened. Whipping my head around I saw the man lying unconscious next to a pool of blood. The blood seeped down the streets and into gutters. The man's leg was bent the wrong way, his bones jabbing out the back of his leg. Being only five years old I had never seen anything so horrible. So I did what any person would do, I went to the bushes and threw up. My legs then felt wobbly, I passed out.

I awoke in a small room, it wasn't overly furnished, but it had the essentials, a bed, dresser, and a window. I rubbed my eyes and slowly got out of the bed. I wondered what happened the night before that I ended up in a stranger's apartment.

I exited the room slowly, not wanting to alert anyone of my presence. I was clad only in an oversized t-shirt that had seen better days. My own clothes were sitting, washed, on the floor just outside my room. I grabbed them and rushed back into the room to change. I emerged once again, now in my old sweatshirt and shorts. Turning the corner I saw what appeared to be the kitchen.

I had hoped that no one would be home, but I was wrong, someone was there. I dropped to my hands and knees, hoping to crawl past without arousing suspicion. I had made it past hallway and was reaching for the doorknob when I heard the man speak.

"Why hello there, where are you off to in such a hurry? I was going to make breakfast." I stood up with my fists clenched. What was the man doing, helping a poor, street urchin? I took a good look at the man, he was older, about eighteen years old, but I could hardly tell since a mask covered his face. The only thing that set off his age was the expression in his eyes.

"Wh- What do you want?" I said, my voice quivering.

"Well I was going to have some toast with eggs, if that's alright with you, little one?" The man said. I could sense an aura of joy around this person. "How rude of me, I never introduced myself, my name is Hatake Kakashi. What's yours?" He stuck his hand out.

"I'm, I'm Kitai." I said reluctantly.

"Kitai, hope, is it? That is a beautiful name. You know what mine means, scarecrow, pretty neat, huh? Kakashi smiled. I giggled. "So will you join me for some breakfast now, Kitai?"