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Arc 1, [An Unexpected Beginning]

A cacophony of sensations washed over him. He felt cold and hot and pain and panic and despair and soothing calmness all at once. Before he could process what what happening, he found himself shoved into consciousness, staring into darkness.

With a start, he realized that he was awake. He surveyed his dim surroundings with bloodshot eyes, blinking away years of sleep.

It was about time.

A dull, throbbing pain pierced through him as his chakra began circulating again, leaden after years of disuse. He winced at the prickling feeling in his lungs as he gulped in breath after breath of moist air. Below him were several large puddles, resting in crevices on the uneven rocky ground. Strange. His host's mind was like a cavern. But he couldn't complain; he was finally awake.

For twelve years he had slept. Twelve years.

Sometimes he'd drift out of sleep and see through her eyes, feel with her hands and hear with her ears. Sometimes he'd have bubble-gum pink hair and emerald eyes. His spirit would shadow his host's as she mingled among the material world. But for most of those twelve years, he was asleep inside of her, trapped in the smallest part of her mindscape, a prisoner of his own power. It was his own chakra that was maintaining the seal, after all. Whoever had put him in this situation was smart enough to utilize his enormous chakra storages.

Sadly, the little girl had no idea about his existence. For that, he pitied her. She had no idea what the man caged inside of her was capable of. What will happen if people found out about him? The burden that she carried, though not as dangerous, was far more controversial than a jinchuuriki's. After all, who has ever heard of a person sealed inside of another person?

He had no idea how he ended up caged and chained inside this child like a tailed beast. He could feel the weight of the hundreds of metal chains that encircled his arms and legs, suspending him in this warped mental dimension. He growled in frustration, hearing the annoyance in his own voice bounce back. There was even a metal collar around his neck, as if he was a disobeying dog. What if he was stuck here forever? There was no telling what would become of him.

At least he was conscious. From years of meddling with Fuuinjutsu, he knew that being awake meant the bond between him and his host was weakening. Soon, he would be able to talk to her and she would be able to access his chakra. If she was even training to be a ninja, that is.

Though beggars couldn't be choosers, he prayed to any gods that were listening that his host was a training to be a ninja. If not, his renowned kekkei genkai and years of knowledge and battle experience would be wasted. Wasted! There was a time when the mere mention of his name would invoke awed whispers.

Tentatively, he reached out a tendril of chakra and probed at a cuff on his arm. There was a loud spark, sending a searing sensation down his arm. He hissed in pain and quickly retracted his chakra. It was painful, but not unexpected.

He sighed, letting out a deep exhale. It was getting terribly boring. He closed his eyes, letting his thoughts and questions run over him in a never-ending stream.

Just as he was about to nod off to sleep, there was a crisp, clear sound. It was click that disgustingly resembled hope- like something being unlocked. With a start, he swiveled towards the source of the sound and sure enough, one of the numerous cuffs on his arms had popped open like a clam shell. It fell away, the glinting quicksilver chain trailing into the darkness.

A faint smile spread across his lips.

Perhaps it was too soon to say that the legend of the God of Shinobi had ended.

Sakura had always hated her neighbor.

Her name was Mai or Maiko or something like that- she never bothered to remember. Mai's second floor apartment was unfortunately identical to the one she lived in, so Sakura had the honor of occupying the room right across from her. The stupid girl was annoying, loud, energetic, and her pigeons always found a way to defile Sakura's balcony.

The best thing about Mai, however, was that because of her, Sakura never needed an alarm clock.

At exactly six in the morning, Sakura would awake to the sound of her windows being flung open and her blinds being dramatically drawn, accompanied by hummed fanfare.

Today was no exception to this quirky little reception.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart!" Mai sang happily, ripping away Sakura's warm covers. The eight feet of empty space between their balconies never seemed to deter her.

Sakura shivered, pulling her pillow closer. "Go away, Mai." She mumbled. "I don't even know you."

"I told you my name was Makoto!" Makoto chanted. She seemingly ignored Sakura's muttered "I don't care", and barged on. "You better get dressed, Sakura! Today's going to be a big day for you!"

Sakura had an internal debate on whether it would be possible to go back to sleep at this point. Groaning, Sakura decided that it would be best to humor Makoto. Groggily, she sat up and reached for the neatly folded clothes on top of her drawers. Yawning, she slid on her dark red training dress and a pair of black spandex shorts before running a comb through her tangled mess of hair. Meanwhile, Makoto kept up a steady chatte. Sakura nodded half-heartedly here and there, occasionally throwing in a disgruntled "hn". It's amazing how Sasuke-like she was in the morning.

After completing her morning routine with a babbling Makoto by her side, Sakura was about to head downstairs when a metallic glint on her dresser caught her eye. Her forehead protector! Hopes and dreams and possibilities soared before her eyes from just looking at it—it was symbol of her competence, a symbol of adulthood, a symbol of her humble skill. Smiling and feeling more than a little satisfied with herself, Sakura hurried to retrieve it and tied it securely to her forehead.

"You're already a genin now." Makoto said thoughtfully, falling silent.

"Obviously," Sakura snorted, checking her reflection in the mirror over her dresser. Even after twelve years, her face shape and features were still annoyingly childish, especially her wide green eyes. Will she ever grow up?

Then, Makoto did something completely unexpected. She placed a steady hand on Sakura's shoulder, and directed her steely brown gaze at the pink-haired girl. It was then that Sakura noticed that Makoto was well over a head taller than her, and that there was definitely muscle underneath her tan skin. Makoto's hands were calloused with use, and there were shadows beneath her eyes.

Sakura swallowed. Makoto's entire person now seemed to scream shinobi.

"Being a genin no longer means that you will have the luxury of remaining carefree," Makoto said. Her voice was an octave deeper than usual. "Once you don this headband, you officially mark yourself as a soldier of Konoha." Faster than Sakura's eyes can track, Makoto removed her headband. Before she could protest, Makoto was halfway across the room, next to the exit. "The path of a shinobi, whether you're a genin or an ANBU captain, is a dangerous one. If you aren't careful, people will target you- for this alone." Makoto said gravely, twirling Sakura's forehead protector.

Alarmed, Sakura reached for a weapon, only to find that her kunai pouches were still lying on top of her drawers. "You-" she began.

"What is the seventh Shinobi Rule?" Makoto asked, voice loud and clear.

"Be observant of everything around you." Sakura automatically recited. "For it might-" In less time than it took to blink, Makoto was standing behind her. Sakura felt the cool, sharp edge of a kunai press into the side of her throat, right on her carotid artery.

"-save your life someday." Makoto finished, adding more pressure to the blade. Beads of blood began to gather underneath the weapon, and Sakura felt her heart thud against her ribcage. Her breathing quickened as Makoto's other hand ghosted over her arm, tracing her skin with a knife.

Oh God. Her first day as a ninja, and she already was experiencing real battle scenarios. Sakura wracked her brain, trying to come up with a solution to this situation that wouldn't end up with her head on the floor. Should she counterattack? Call for help? Talk her way out of this?

"I've lived in the apartment across from you for the past four years, Sakura." Makoto said, drawing the kunai across her neck at an agonizingly unhurried speed, drawing blood. "But you still don't know my name, how old I am, or how skilled I am at killing cute little genin. Nothing, Sakura, nothing. I could be a spy from a foreign nation."

The cold feeling spread to her gut, and Sakura felt paralyzed, like a sheep in the presence of a wolf

Makoto let her lethal blade glide across Sakura's neck for a few more seconds before finally retracting it, leaving a six-inch long line of blood that spanned across her throat. Sakura relaxed, but kept a wary eye on Makoto as she turned around to face the older woman.

Makoto took a step back, her violet-tinted black hair bouncing from the motion. "A piece of advice, Sakura— make it two. Never sleep without a weapon on you, or within your arm's reach. This is especially important to us female ninja. And never, ever forget to gather as much information as you can in every situation. The smallest of the details might determine whether you live or die. Like this."

Sakura had noticed Makoto's hand move before the metallic whine of a thrown weapon. She dodged as a kunai whizzed by her ear, too fast for her eyes to follow as it somehow veered to the side and disappeared out her window.

At her reaction, Makoto nodded, her pupil-less eyes flashing with approval. "Well done." She smiled, showing slightly elongated canines. "As a reward, I'll issue a challenge to you."

Sakura nearly asked Makoto to repeat herself. A challenge? In the middle of something like this?

"Considering that you are the number one kunoichi in your class based off of your test scores and strategic planning, you have probably already realized that I am not Makoto Miwake. The challenge is simple. By the end of this week, you are to find out my real name, my rank, and the specific department I work in. You may use any means possible—just try not to sneak into my apartment. You don't want to meet my pets. I tend to forget to feed them, and they aren't very nice."

Sakura had a feeling she wasn't talking about her pigeons. She gulped at the hidden threat, but worked up the courage to make a comment. "That sounds easy enough." She said. "But why should I do this? What am I going to get out of it? What if I talk to the Hokage about a crazy psychopath that tried to kill me?"

Makoto's smile grew wider. "I'm not worried about the Hokage. And since you asked politely, I'll tell you your prize. If you succeed, I'll offer you free dango and training sessions."

Sakura coughed. Training sessions? From her speed and skill alone, Sakura had already concluded that this woman was better than Iruka, a chuunin. It was common knowledge in the ninja community that most high-ranked shinobi didn't bother giving out their free time to train anonymous genin.

Seeing the look on her face, Makoto spoke again. "Don't worry. I don't break promises. However, there is a catch. After you've found out all that information about me, you won't be reporting it to me."

"What?"

"I said, you won't be reporting to me. You'll be reporting all of this information to my boyfriend."

With a smirk, a wink, and a pose that flaunted her barely-concealed breasts, Makoto was gone.

She was hungry. And pissed. Really, really pissed. Sakura stomped all the way to the Academy, too occupied with planning a proper retaliation to Makoto's assault to shove food down her throat.

"That crazy bitch." Sakura muttered, walking through the Academy gates. She autopolited her way to Iruka's classroom, fuming to herself along the way.

How dare she just enter her house like that? Sure, this was a shinobi village, but being threatened in her own home was just a slap to her face. She'll show Makoto that she wasn't just some little Academy first-year playing ninja. Venomous thoughts buzzing in her head, Sakura barged into the familiar classroom and made her way to the bench in the far back. Just as she settled into the bench, Sasuke pushed open the classroom door, gracefully stepping into the classroom after a brief glance in her direction.

He'd seemed the tiniest bit taken aback that she was here before him, if his momentary pause was anything to go by. But he made no attempt to ask her about her unusually early arrival. She must have been not important enough to waste his breath on. He then shuffled towards the central bench, where he sat alone every single day for the past five years.

Usually Sakura would've attempted to make a conservation with him, and hopefully he'll just find out how sweet and lovely she is when she laughed and then suddenly, he'll realized that she was all he wanted and-

Sakura forced herself to stop. She was love struck, but she was no fool. Sasuke wasn't interested in her.

Blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, Sakura kicked her feet up on the desk in front of her, closing her eyes. Sasuke could think she was rude, that she had no manners—she could really care less right now. She crossed her legs, getting a little bit more comfortable on the desk. Even without her eyes open, she could feel Sasuke turn around and giving her an incredulous look. She pushed him out of her mind. What mattered the most right now was where she should begin her search.

Of course she could always ask Iruka sensei. But that would be suspicious. Why would a new graduate be acquainted with an older, much more experienced ninja? Maybe she could even henge herself into another chuunin and enter the advanced archives at the library. But if her cover was blown, she'll be in big trouble. All the other ideas that she'd come up with were dismissed as well, all being too difficult, too unproductive, or impossible. The best shot at uncovering Makoto's identity was visiting as many venues that the shinobi frequented as possible, and—

"Where did you get that cut?"

At the sound of Sasuke's voice, Sakura nearly fell out of her chair. For a fraction of a second she was annoyed with his rude interruption, but when she remembered who it was, her irritation melted away.

"My cut?" Sakura echoed.

"The wound on your neck." He spoke slowly, as if talking to an idiot.

Sakura traced the ridged line that Makoto's kunai had drawn earlier. For some reason, she thought of the seventh shinobi rule again- Sasuke had noticed a minute detail on her from just his brief scan.

"It was an accident?" Her voice squeaked, turning her attempt at a reassuring statement into a question.

Sasuke turned around slowly, his unsettlingly dark gaze meeting hers.

"Do you really expect him to believe that?" Stretching his hands above his head in a yawn, Kiba strolled into the classroom. Akamaru poked out from his owner's hood, his tongue hanging out. "He knows a weapon injury when he sees one. The mark on your neck is too precise for 'an accident'. I can smell your fear and the metal all the way from here."

Sakura felt blood flood toher cheeks and neck. Since when was Kiba smart? No matter, even the third-last was more observant than she was. She sighed and hung her head, not looking up until she felt a weight settling next to her on the bench. Startled, she looked up again and saw Kiba grinning at her. The Inuzuka ninja had never talked to her before, or even acknowledged her beyond the getting-to-know-each other activities Iruka had prompted them to do at the beginning of the year.

"Well? What happened?" Kiba gestured at her wound, leaning forward with his elbows propped against his thighs.

By now, students that had passed the genin exam had already started streaming in, including a throng of Sasuke's fangirls who'd started to fight over the seat next to Sasuke. Sakura eyed them wearily before she answered Kiba.

"Well," Sakura began. "My neighbor tried to kill me today."

"No way!" Kiba sat up from his slouch. "Where do you live, next to the bakery? I thought civilians couldn't tell the difference between a kunai and a shuriken!"

Sakura found herself spilling every single detail of her account to Kiba, who contributed his own share of his opinions. Akamaru would yip in agreement with his master, and one of his indecipherable comments left Kiba sputtering and blushing. Other than that, Kiba turned out to be extremely funny, and soon enough, they were both laughing rowdily as the steady buzz of conversation among the newly minted genin around them escalated.

As Sakura's most recent fit of giggles died down, Kiba spoke again. "Say, Sakura. Do you have a plan for finding out all that information yet?"

Sakura nodded. By now, some of the worry and anger she felt towards Makoto had faded away, thanks to Kiba's easygoing manner. "I think I'll visit The Hokage's Sake Cup first."

At the mention of the most popular shinobi bar in Konoha, Kiba blanched. "You do realize that you're going to be kicked out for being underage, right?"

Sakura crossed her arms. "Who says I'm going to go in?"

Kiba quickly shook his head. "If you send a clone in, they'll just laugh at it. I'm sure most shinobi are competent enough to recognize an Academy-level clone when they see one."

"You're jumping to conclusions. All I need is some makeup, a bit of hairspray, and a change of clothes…"

Kiba held up a hand. "Forget it. I've tried that before with my sister, and she just punched me. Fake cleavage never works."

"What? Fake cleavage?" Sakura snapped. Kiba guffawed, his canines glinting in the morning light.

Sakura harrumphed. "Well, in that case, there's not much I can do. I guess I can always volunteer at the Mission Assigning desk and wait for her to show up."

Kiba fell silent for a second, looking rather pensive for the loud, unruly idiot he usually is. "Do you know what the Inuzaka are famous for, Sakura?"

"Tracking by scent." Sakura answered, recalling Iruka's lecture about the various clans in Kononha.

Kiba patted her on the head, and retracted his hand with a smirk when Sakura made a grab for it. "Very good, Miss Number Kunoichi. Now, guess whose scent I can detect on you?"

Sakura blinked. "You don't mean…"

Kiba's smirk widened. "Oh yes, I do."

"Then you'll help me, right?" Sakura said excitedly, snatching Kiba's wrists. When he started to struggle in her grasp, Sakura tightened her hold. "Please?"

Kiba looked torn for a second. He was just about to open his mouth to answer when a clear voice cut through the air.

"Sakura-san, let go of Kiba-san. I'm afraid the team assignments are already set. Even if you glue yourself to Kiba-san, we still don't take romantic interests into account when assigning teams." Iruka cleared his throat, pulling out a clipboard as he addressed the now silent class.

Giggles erupted around them, and Sakura felt like burying herself. She quickly let go of Kiba's wrists and joined the rest of the class in listening apprehensively to the team assignments.

"I've already given my goodbye speech yesterday, so I'll just cut to the chase and call out the assignments now. After your team roster is called, please gather with your new teammates." Iruka scanned each of the faces in the room. "Any questions?"

When everyone shook their heads, Iruka began his announcements. Sakura turned towards Kiba again, lowering her voice.

"When you're done with your team today, come back to the Academy and wait for me. Please, you gotta help me find her. I'll even buy you dinner!" Sakura whispered, adding a pleading look to her eyes for the effect.

Kiba rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. "Fine."

Sakura inwardly pumped her fist and performed a victory dance, before the sound of her name interrupted her inner celebration.

"Team Seven will be Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, and Sasuke Uchiha. Your sensei is Kakashi Hatake."

Sakura had expected it.

As Iruka had explained to a crestfallen Naruto earlier, their team was formed so that her brains and Sasuke's skill balanced out Naruto's…well, Naruto-ness.

"Hey, Sakura-chan! The prick here says that I would never be able to get a date! And we're going to prove him wrong, right?"

"NO!" Sakura responded by throwing one of her old textbooks at him. It was a lazy throw, a toss, almost. Naruto didn't dodge it. When it hit home on the blonde's infuriating grin, Naruto hissed in agony and started to complain about how rude she was to him. Sakura sighed and buried her face in her hand.

Suddenly, an excruciating pain lanced through her head. It felt like her entire body was being smashed against a rock wall while thousands of needles were stabbing through every inch of her skin. Her vision blurred alarmingly and spasms wracked her body.

Sakura screamed. Her throat felt like parchment as another wail rasped against it, her own voice trying to escape the pain, and her hearing rang. Something hot seared against her back, and Sakura could almost feel something unraveling within her, unchaining the captive-

As the unbearable agony coiled around her body like a python, Sakura fell from her spot on the desk and curled into a trembling ball on the floor. Barely conscious, all she could feel was the pain. Her spasms turned into convulsions. Sakura was sure there was foam at her mouth. And she could hear her heartbeat—no, two heartbeats, hers and his—No! This isn't possible!

"Sakura! Sakura! Sakura! Oh my God, what's happening? Sakura-chan!"

She barely heard Naruto's frantic cries, or the sound of the door being opened and another voice, male and unfamiliar, calling out to them. A vivid image flashed before her eyes. A young man, his skin tan with years of Sun and his ink-colored hair wild. His face was achingly familiar, shadowed by the triangular hat that perched regally above his head, and the white robe he wore was adorned with fire-red kanji on the back—

The illusion dispersed, and the pain ebbed to a dull throb along with it.

Her world turned black and silent, and Sakura felt strangely serene, almost detached. She was standing in the center of a moist, warm cave, and puddles of water lapped against her sandals. She heard the creak of metal above her.

Very, very, slowly, she looked up.

The same man was now hanging from four shackles, one on each limb. He looked visibly strained, sweat plastering his hair to his skin. When their eyes met, green on dark brown, Sakura felt the dull throb on her back grow hot again.

A piece of paper drifted down from above and landed softly on Sakura's upturned face. The heat on her back was becoming unbearable as she peeled the sheet off her face, reading the single black kanji on it. Kusari. Chain.

"Rip it." The man's voice was authoritative and calm, a deep baritone that echoed in the cavern. "Set me free. Set both of us free."

Her fingers obeyed the command without her mind's consent, and for a second the only sound was that of tearing paper. Then, the whole world exploded into a flurry of white.