The sun, bright and high in the mid-afternoon sky, beat down on my head mercilessly. It's sticky heat and almost painful glare – which was the stuff of legends where I came from, where it rained more often than not – made concentration on the task at hand difficult to maintain for normal people. Given I have the attention span of a hyperactive two year old let loose in a sweet shop at the best of times, it was practically impossible for me to hang on to. Sweat trickled down my face and arms – both of which I could feel starting to burn despite the pathetic shade provided by the forest canopy – tickling me in an irritating fashion and causing my clothes to stick in places they ought not stick.

What a rotten day to be on a bloody mission! I thought bitterly, swiping at a wasp near my left ear – and missing, much to my disappointment. Ninja or not, if I have to put up with this heat much longer I'm giving up. Screw the mission! I'm losing a large percentage of my body fluid here!

Of course that wasn't the only problem with my current assignment; in addition to the blistering temperature, blinding glare and extreme physical discomfort, there was the very real possibility that I could be caught and... ahem... disposed of, shall we say? I know what you must be thinking: if getting spotted were such a problem why didn't I finish my mission during the night? Well I could, I suppose. But it would be harder to see that way and what I was attempting was a very delicate process; one false move and 'BOOM' – flame-grilled Mizuko with a side of crispy salad. And before any smart asses say it, using a torch was definitely out of the question; might as well wear a neon sign saying 'kill me'.

Wiping the sweat from my brow with as loud a frustrated sigh as I dared, I focused once more on the barrier tag secured inconspicuously to the same beech I'd been kneeling in front of for going on an hour and twenty minutes now. It was a very complex piece of work even for me! My hat goes off to whoever made it, I commended silently – though the chances were if I ever actually met them it would be a lot more than my hat that came off. But then what more could I expect from a group like Akatsuki? Considering the effort they'd gone to to keep it hidden, they were hardly going to let me off with a slap on the wrists for trying to break into one of their bases.

Technically though, I wouldn't be the one to actually break in, thank God. When it came to combat I was of little use; something a certain team mate of mine took joy in reminding me of. My pathetic array of ninjutsu was very specialized and mainly defensive, and my taijutsu was mediocre at best – seriously, there were kids fresh out of the Academy who could probably kick my butt. I was quite skilled with genjutsu – or better with it, at least, than I was with the other disciplines – but I couldn't guarantee that there wasn't anyone in there who was more skilled. Say, Itachi Uchiha, for example. If he was in there my genjutsu would be as useless as a boat in the desert... Besides my real forte was with traps, barriers and escape techniques. All three of which I'd be making use of today.

At last, after a long haul of blood (figuratively speaking), sweat and tears (quite literally), I finally deciphered the seals on the tag and by extension, was able to decide on the hand signs needed to break the stupid thing.

I forgot to mention that I have the rare ability to analyse almost any trap and come up with the exact Jutsu required to counter it in seconds. My sensei says I'm a natural but honestly, I think it's because it's one of the few areas of being a ninja I ever really had an interest in. I hate getting my hands dirty and if something can be solved without a battle I'll do it.

Taking a deep breath that was three parts relief and two parts exhaustion, I executed the hand signs perfectly and slammed my right palm against the tag, directing my chakra to the point of contact. "Trap Shatter Jutsu!"

Instantly, the tag caught fire and was turned to ash in no time, leaving a slightly charred patch on the tree which I – for no reason in particular – found extremely satisfying. Smiling triumphantly, I looked up as the genjutsu barrier dissipated and a surprisingly well-kept building swam into sight. A perfectly normal building by the looks of it. Quite big – well it would have to be; I'd heard there were at least nine members – with pale beige walls, a grey tiled roof, simple glass windows and a big black wooden door. Nothing out of the ordinary... except for the hassle they went to to avoid it being seen. It looked like the kind of place a wealthy civilian family might come to for their holidays. Maybe it was... or had been, back in a time before Akatsuki had pounced on it.

Raising the same hand I'd used to break the trap above my head, I made a signal. Before I had time to blink, hordes of Leaf and Sand ninja were on me like flies on stink and I had to fight to keep my features impassive as my heart jumped into my throat from the shock. I mean I'd been expecting them but come on; any faster and I've have thought they were attacking me!

They rushed past with barely a glance in my direction, getting into pre-ordained positions to await some other signal marking the start of the raid. Most of the ninja were young chuunin, though I wasn't dumb enough to believe that was the highest level here. There were at least a dozen or so jounin, maybe a few ANBU too... But regardless of ranking they all shared one common trait – a blood-lust that I could feel sparking through the air like electricity.

Smirking to myself, I turned away from the army and strode over to a nearby cluster of shrubbery where I'd wisely stowed some supplies that morning. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a bottle of cool, fresh water and downed it in one, finishing it greedily just as a bulky Sand ninja thumped his heavy hand on my shoulder. My bones juddered and I resisted the urge to scold him for his heavy-handedness just as I would any other who did the same.

You're representing our Village, Mizuko, Lord Shibuki's stern voice echoed in my ears. So please, try to behave yourself, okay?

"Good job, Mizuko. Very good job. We're forever in your debt," the gruff Sand nin rumbled, reminding me, aptly, of a yeti. Yeah, you do! I'd endured scorching heat, dehydration and swarms of biting insects for them – I didn't even do well in regular heat! They owed me big time and I would not soon forget it!

However, all too aware of the kind of ear-bashing I'd get from Lord Shibuki if I somehow managed to insult one of the five Great Shinobi Villages, I held my tongue. Shrugging out from under the man's hand, I called his name to mind after some intense memory sifting. He was Baki, the leader of the Sand ninja on this operation.

"It was my pleasure, Baki." Only it wasn't a pleasure at all. "The trap was much more... testing than I'd have imagined. Still, the trap hasn't been invented that Mizuko Shinoske can't unravel," I wiped the sliver of escaped water from my mouth with my sleeve, then dug around in my bag for the second bottle of water I'd brought, thanking my forethought for such an insightful decision .

"Will you be going back to the Waterfall Village now?" he asked, simultaneously giving orders to his troops via hand signals – something I found quite rude but, again, kept my own counsel about. It's not like I could talk anyway; I wasn't exactly gracing him with my undivided attention either.

I let out a breath as I finished the water and shook my head slowly. "No. I plan on going back to the small town a few miles west of here and restocking before I start the journey home. I'll be there for a few days so if you need me again you know where to look."

"Yes, of course. Have a safe journey back and relay our thanks to your leader, Lord Shibuki."

"I will." I replied turning my back on him and heading west, just as I'd said I would. Tempting as it was to keep going until I was out of sight and then change direction so they couldn't find me, I decided I would go to the town for a bit. Shibuki would have my head if he found out I'd lied to them like that – and knowing my luck he would find out. He always did, despite my best efforts.

I'd only been walking through the timeless forest for about a minute and a half before I could hear the beginnings of the battle mingling with the peaceful, everyday sounds of nature. It was a strange thing really, to hear the clash of kunai and shuriken mixed in with the lulling sound of calling birds and the whooshing of the trees as their branches swayed in the wind.

That was one thing about me not many would really expect; I loved the natural world. For all my rebelliousness and devil-may-care attitude, I was a naturist at heart. What was a single, unremarkable leaf to someone else was a wondrous, unique work of art to me. The way it's veins spread out in a specifically designed yet seemingly haphazard way; the way the various shades of green melded together perfectly, unnoticeable to anyone not looking for it. It was beautiful. Everything, from leaves and insects to clouds and birds, it was all art in it's finest form. And what's life without a little art, I ask you?

The walk to town was, for the most part, an enjoyable affair – discounting the sweat clinging to my skin that I had no way of dealing with at present. The forest through which I made my own path soon gave way to a dusty, well-travelled road that I used for the rest of the journey, enjoying the sights and sounds of a world with much to offer for those who knew what to look for as I went. My mother was always telling me that the secret to happiness was to appreciate all the little things in life. My Gramps – a philosopher among philosophers – had often said, long before I became a ninja, that each day was a gift because you never knew how many you had left. From their combined wisdom I'd come up with my own philosophy: 'If you're not dead, you have nothing to complain about'.

This 'philosophy', as I called it, was the guiding principal for my every decision in life. Everything I ever did linked back to this core belief – well, that and my Gramps, who I practically idolised even at my age.

Though I couldn't know it yet, I was soon going to find out how very wrong that philosophy could be.

And so it was that chapter 1 was re-written!