"Welcome! And please, make yourselves at home. I'll show you to your rooms," the kind blue-haired lady, Tazuna's daughter, exclaims as she hustles us into the small home. A small black-haired boy with a blue striped bucket hat watches us curiously from the side of the room.

As we pass the living area, Tsunami points to the couches, apologizing that there weren't beds for everyone to sleep on. The genin each claim one of the three couches, Sakura fighting with Naruto for the one beside Sasuke. Sasuke sets his bag down and sits, closing his eyes and pretending he can't hear the other two.

"This way to your room, guys," she says.

"Room?" I mutter.

"It's nothing fancy. It's the master, I don't mind taking the guest room anyways. I hope you'll find it comfortable-"

"We're not together," I grunt. Tsunami goes red as she looks between us, her soft eyes flitting from me to Kakashi.

"O-oh, I'm sorry, I just assumed-"

Kakashi cuts her off, "The room will be fine. Thank you, we appreciate your hospitality while Tazuna builds the bridge."

Nope. Absolutely not. Big bag of nope. This is not happening. 

I immediately shoot Kakashi a wide-eyed glare, intending to lecture him, but hold back while Tsunami is present.

"Yes," I manage through gritted teeth. The words are hard coming out, but I muster up as much kindness as possible. It isn't her fault, after all. She's been very kind to take us all in like this. "Thank you, Tsunami. You're very thoughtful."

"O-of course. I-It's no problem, really," she stammers, obviously embarrassed for assuming we were together. She opens the door to the master, letting us in first. "I-I can get a sleeping bag--or I could make a bed of blankets on the floor beside the-"

Kakashi cuts her off with a closed eye smile and a soft hand on her shoulder, "It's quite alright," he says. "We will figure it out."

Tsunami nods quickly before escaping down the hallway, her small feet echoing on the hard floor.

I glare at the single, queen sized bed in the middle of the room.

"What a great fucking situation," I mutter under my breath.

Kakashi chuckles and walks in, tossing his bag on the floor at one side of the bed.

"I mean, it's a queen sized-"

"You don't seriously expect me to sleep in the same bed with you," I grunt, stomping across the room and tossing my bag on a small chair in the corner. "I'll sleep here."

Kakashi shrugs, falling onto the bed and sprawling out like a starfish. I groan in frustration.

"Whatever, have it your way," he says, yawning loudly.

At dinner, Tsunami makes small talk, asking us about our village and the shinobi system. Sakura happily answers many of her questions while Sasuke and Naruto glare each other down across the table, seemingly in a staring contest.

I should just stop bothering with those two. Seriously.

I perk up when I hear my name.

"I'm sorry, I was totally zoned out. Can you repeat that?" I say, feeling slightly embarrassed by my rudeness. Tsunami takes no offence and giggles.

"It's alright. You must be exhausted after today's long journey," she says sweetly. I nod and realize she's right. As if all at once, I feel the exhaustion from the day wash over me.

"I am," I say, trying to stifle a yawn. "I might head to sleep early. Thank you for the meal, Tsunami-san. You really overdid yourself. It was delicious."

Tsunami waves my compliment, pink rising to her cheeks.

"Goodnight Ayame-Sensei!" Naruto grins, stuffing his face with more rice. The kid is demolishing his meal like he's never had a real meal in his life. I guess I know how he feels—I also ate cup ramen alone for many months of my life, so I know how great real food must taste to him. But seriously, learn some manners kid.

I give a two-fingered wave before heading up to the room.

I sigh looking at the tiny chair in the corner. For a moment, I consider finding a nice tree branch outside to sleep on, but when I pull the curtains and see the mist and layer of dew on everything, I push that thought away.

Sighing heavily, I fall onto the perfectly made bed and stare up at the ceiling, dreading every minute I have to sleep on that tiny chair in the corner.

It's better than the alternative, I remind myself.

I can hear crickets chirping through the opened window and the cool breeze from outside makes me feel even more tired than I already am. The sound is soothing, a repetitive noise that distracts me from my thoughts and makes a wave of relaxation fall over my heavy body. I close my eyes for just a moment, allowing myself a few seconds to enjoy the cool breeze on my face.

My eyes snap open. I forget where I am for a moment, it doesn't feel familiar.

Oh, right. The Land of Waves.

I go to move but something stops me. Arms. Large, muscular arms wrapped tightly around me. One around my torso and the other under my neck.

I feel my heart beat rapidly, increasing with the realization.

When I turn my head ever so carefully, his grey mop of hair falls on my face. I jump slightly, but I'm still held back by strong arms.

My breathing grows quick and shallow as I take in the situation.

How the fuck.

Oh no. I fell asleep. I laid down for two seconds and fell asleep.

I try to pry myself out of his grasp without waking him. Maybe he rolled over in his sleep and wrapped himself around me without realizing it. That would be best case scenario. Worst case... I don't want to think about it. I try to will the thought of him consciously deciding to spoon me out of my head.

He shifts a bit, warm breath from his nose hitting the back of my neck. It sends shivers through my whole body.

Good shivers? Bad shivers? I decide to assume the latter.

Finally, I pry myself completely from his grasp and roll quietly off the bed.

I stare at the sleeping figure on the bed. His hair falls down and forward, pieces covering his forehead. He still wears the mask, connected to a tight black tank top. Very tight. It hardly leaves anything to the imagination.

I will myself to look away. I can feel my body falling out of sync with my mind again.

No matter how much I know in my mind that I shouldn't stare, my eyes just won't look away.

They take in every little detail. The sharp shape of his jaw underneath the mask. The curves of his biceps. The swirling ANBU tattoo on his shoulder that we both share. The cut and defined lines on his abdomen...

I force my eyes shut, struggling to control myself. My body is no longer in sync with my mind. Instead, my mind seems in sync with my body, answering to its desires.

It's like my body has taken the reins on my mind and I have no control over it. The thoughts come and go, passing through without consequence.

I think about the mask. Why does he wear it? What could he be hiding?

And the tattoo on his left shoulder. Black and swirling like a leaf on fire. A symbol of his past involvement in the ANBU. At this thought, my mind drifts again.

I wear my tattoo with pride. It reminds me of the best years of my life.

But if I recall correctly, they certainly weren't the best of Kakashi's.

I don't know his whole back story. He was just my captain, after all, and I wasn't real interested in prying into the depths of the cold-blooded captain's personal life. But the rumors were still there, muttered around the village and in the locker room when he wasn't around.

They floated from person to person like a storm cloud. Eager tongues would pass them on, feeling it impossible to keep to themselves.

His father committed suicide after the village ridiculed him for choosing his comrades' lives over the mission.

His comrade died in front of his eyes, the one who gave him the sharingan.

His other comrade died to his own hand with the same terrible jutsu he uses to assassinate our targets on ANBU missions.

His sensei, the Fourth Hokage, died in the nine-tails attack on the village, 12 years ago.

He has nobody. He only has the darkness in his heart.

I wonder how many of those rumors are true.

I wonder how he copes with it all.

I shiver in the cool breeze from the window and realize I have no blanket. Other than the cloak I carry in my bag on missions, all I have is my thin undershirt and loose pants, those typical of a jonin's outfit. They do little to protect me from the cold, night air.

I slide the window shut but the room is still filled with cold air, sending chills throughout my body. When I huddle in the chair with my cloak wrapped around me, I struggle to find warmth.

For the rest of the night, I shiver in the small chair, going in and out of sleep but never getting truly comfortable.

As soon as light begins to appear on the horizon, I slide my shoes on and slip outside. The air is crisp and chilly, filled with morning moisture. The usually thick fog is almost non-existent and there's a layer of dew on everything which causes the grass, trees, and everything else to shimmer slightly.

I find my way to the lakeside and peer out on the crystal clear water. It's a perfect reflection of the yellow and orange sky, enhancing the beauty of it all.

Sunrises; a symbol of a new day. New beginnings. Light appearing after a long, dark night.

No matter what happens, sunrises are proof that every day can begin beautifully. And I guess the same could be said about sunsets, that every day can end beautifully, though I must admit I prefer sunrises. Sunsets, to me, are like a betrayal. They entice you with their beauty, only to leave you in darkness.

A strange thought enters my head, swirling like an old, unfamiliar scent:

The same things I say about sunsets could be said about love. I fell victim to the enticing beauty of love once. It was like a beautiful sunset. The colors were unlike any I'd ever seen before. But then they faded to black and I was left with nothing but a dark, empty heart.

But I don't feel much like thinking about that this morning. I'd rather enjoy the sunrise and think about simple things like my favorite ninja tools and mission formations. Things that are easy and predictable. Things that don't mess with my body-mind synchronization.

In the corner of my eye, I spot someone else walking towards the long dock.

Who else would be getting up at this early hour of the morning?

When I look closer, I notice his duck-butt, bluish-black hair and onyx eyes. He sits on the side of the dock, legs dangling over the water. It seems he hasn't noticed me yet.

I get up and approach him, sitting a couple of feet from him and dangling my legs off the dock too.

"You're an early riser," I say. He stares forward at the lake, his eyes a void.

"Speak for yourself," he mutters. I didn't really expect a reply from him. I thought it would be something along the lines of 'hn', so this surprises me a little.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask, noticing his steady, glassy eyes as they stare into the rising mist off the reflective lake.

He blinks a few times and looks down at his lap. I wonder for a second if my words fell on deaf ears but he eventually mutters his answer, just loud enough for me to hear. His voice is low and he seems uncomfortable sharing with me but does nonetheless, "This lake, it's so much like the one I used to practice my Fire Ball Jutsu at with my brother and father."

I'm silent for a moment, wondering why Sasuke is opening up to me about this. I guess I did ask him, but it was more of a way to break the silence. I didn't expect a real answer from the grunt-master himself.

"Oh," I say, looking out on the lake. I'm thinking about Itachi now and how well he executed the Fire Ball Jutsu on our ANBU missions—a single blow and he could take out two dozen shinobi or more at once. It was truly a remarkable sight. I wonder how Sasuke's fireball jutsu compares to Itachi's.

"Hn," Sasuke says, once again resorting to his grunt language.

I turn my head and look at him. He hides the pain well. But I can see beneath that facade the struggle he goes through to live up to his brother. It's interwoven with anger and rage, an overwhelming need for revenge for what Itachi did to his clan, but the struggle is evident through it all.

"Sasuke," I say, barely breathing the words. I'm afraid I'll say something wrong and trigger his anger. "Why are you so set on revenge? Can't you see the dark path it'll take you down? Is that really the way you want to go?"

Sasuke rests his chin on his hands, closing his eyes. For a moment, he looks at peace with himself. When his eyes open, they're filled with a fiery determination. The hurting child is gone and replaced by a blood-thirsty savage. "I will do anything to avenge my clan," he says, voice low and rumbling. He doesn't second guess a single word; like he's been pondering them all his life. "I don't care what it takes, I will kill Itachi Uchiha."

I feel a shiver run down my spine, and it's not from the cool morning air. Sasuke's composure has completely changed—like he's a different person from the one I sat down beside earlier.

The words are in my throat and I urge myself to stay quiet lest I make things worse, but they come out anyways, clear and concise. "My mother left me after I was born. She was 17." Sasuke doesn't react, seemingly untouched by my words, but I continue anyways. "She left and I hate her for it. Sometimes I even hate her for having me in the first place. My father was a drunk nobody who got her pregnant and told her to get an abortion."

At this, Sasuke flinches and I know he's hearing my words. I keep talking, hoping he finds some meaning in my words.

"I grew up without parents. Lord Third raised me because he's my uncle. I had to live up to the Sarutobi name and under the shadow of Hiruzen, a great man. I felt the pressure to live up to people's expectations for me and it weighed on me. Still does, sometimes. But I've found ways to deal."

"Why are you telling me this?" Sasuke mutters, voice on edge. He still refuses to look at me. We continue to glare out on the calm, colorful water.

"Because I don't think we're all that different, you and I."

Sasuke is fuming, his onyx eyes suddenly glaring at me straight-on. "What makes you think you know anything about me?" he bursts, eyes flaring with complete and utter anger. He glares at me across the dock and I take a deep breath.

"I don't," I say in a whisper, looking into the fog, and I see him relax a little in the corner of my vision. "But I can see that you're struggling."

He answers that with another one of his infamous hn's and I take it as my cue to leave. After pushing myself up and taking a few steps, I turn back to Sasuke.

"You're not alone," I add, staring at the back of his head, but I know he hears me as I can feel the tension drop. "You should talk to me more often. You're not terribly boring or annoying to be around."

With that, I return to the house, proud of the sensei-ing I've accomplished already today. I don't think I'm half bad.

Although it's not the same rush I feel on high-level missions, there's something very satisfying about getting through to a student. At least, I hope I got through to him. If not, he's headed down a dark, dark path.

I bump into Kakashi on my way back to the house and he informs me of breakfast and the plan for guarding Zabuza today. He doesn't mention anything about last night.

Good, I think, letting out a sigh of relief. He doesn't remember. I'm sure he just rolled over in his sleep, not even realizing.

But my relief is gone as quickly as it came, and replaced with panic when he winks and says, "How'd you sleep?"