1 The beginning

The day when my whole, quiet life was turned upside down started like any other day of my quiet, abdicable existence. I was woken up by birdsong and some weak rays of spring sunlight tickling my nose. Today would be a good day to search for some fresh herbs, saplings, new buds full of life and vitality. Great additions to my garden.

One look outside of the window. "Yes, no clouds at the bright, blue sky". A perfect day to go for a walk through the woods. I smiled to myself, before slipping my feet outside of my warm covers. The stone ground was ice cold.

A sharp hiss escaped my mouth. Damn, that was worse than last winter, when three blizzards had shaken the trees around the meadow and rattled on my goddamning windows. With scrunched up brows, I blindly searched for my old slippers. They must be somewhere around here, almost drowning in the sea of cold stone and air. Finally, my toes scrambled over the soft rabbit-fur and with a satisfied sigh, I dragged them closer only to slip into the welcoming warmth.

The fire in the living room must've burned down over the night. One look at the weakly gleaming coal and ashes, and my suspicions were confirmed. Not that it bothered me a lot. It would just take a while to make some tea to warm up my still slightly stiff bones and joints, but before I would get to that, I blindly fumbled for my bathrobe and covered my thin sleeping clothes with the only luxury item I had.

Years ago, a customer had given me this robe for my services and I wouldn't complain about the by now too-short sleeves and the lower rims barely reaching over my knees, when the softness of the fabric was unrivaled in my whole wardrobe. I never would've dared to purchase anything like this on my own.

Not that I ever would, again.

One hand still busy tying the knot of the belt around my waist, I waved the other into the direction of the fireplace. Energy swirled around my fingertips, mighty and fiery, only to bend to your will. New flames sprung forth, happily flickered and whispered around the iron pot hanging at a horizontal bar above the fire.

Another wave, and an old and well-used can of water flew over to the pot and poured some water into it, just enough for a single, lonely mug of herbal tea. In the back of your mind, I still directed the can back onto its original spot on the wooden kitchen counter, all the while finishing the last touches on your outfit.

I smiled at the silly thought. Outfit. Like I would meet some people who would judge me for what I was wearing. Really, that was the most delusional, fleeting thought I had in a whole-!

I would never forget the next moment. One second, I stared blankly ahead, the flames in the fireplace sparkling in my vision; the next, agonized screams echoed through the air. Instantly, I swiveled around and ran outside, knowing already where to go. Only one thing could cause such unimaginable pain that the victim couldn't help but to beg for forgiveness and that exact plant ranked right around the old wood of my fence, just for this exact course.

And to fend off pesky insects which would destroy otherwise my hard work. I pushed the backdoor open, which released you directly into your herbal garden. Hundreds of different wild and cultivated herbs, neatly arranged into rows and at the same time, hidden almost in plain sight due to the high grass. Only the fence told about the secret garden I created here, about the materials you needed to fulfill my purpose when someone needed help and was desperate enough to come to me.

And at this exact fence stood a group of people, right across from my point of view. Four people, all of them wearing the Konoha sign on their bodies. Blind silver to avoid the reflection of the sun, a natural choice in their business. I knew instantly who had let out the scream. The one closest to the fence, a blond boy with whiskers on his face, stared with pitiful, big, blue eyes at his hands and inspected the damage the vine had done. A girl was looking at his outstretched hands, her sakura-pink hair held back by a hair band. In the back was a black-haired boy, smiling a little bit stiffly at the two others of his age, while his almost unnatural pale skin reflected the sunlight like only snow could. Another, apparently older shinobi waited in the back, his face hidden by a mask and hands buried in the pockets of his pants.

A strange group, I thought to myself. Until now, I believed shinobi were these secretive, prim and proper shadow-warriors, never to be seen and never to be heard. In total difference to the group I had right in front of me, all loud and whiny and disturbing the tranquility of the meadow with their booming voices.

The blond boy whined a bit more and his voice made my skin crawl from the sheer volume to it. "Sakura-chan! Please, can you just treat it? It burns. Something about learning to not rely on him too much…"

The girl, apparently even named after the famous tree, shook her head in badly hidden exasperation. "I'm not your personal healing pod whenever you need it! And personally, I think you deserve it! I warned you to not just shove your hands into unknown plants! You're lucky you only seem to have a rash and not a full-blown poisoning from these vines!"

Right now, tiny red spots should form on his palms. If left unattended, these spots would soon turn bigger and would become itchy, to the point the boy would think fire burned right beneath his skin. And no amount of scratching or cooling medicine would help. The fire vine, who wore its name not without reason, was covered by small, almost unnoticeable prickles. And the boy probably really shoved his hands right into the plant, who only tried to defend itself from the rude intrusion.

I stood there, on my feet my old slippers, the warm bathrobe slung around my body and stared through squinted eyes at the group. They were shinobi, yes. But why were they here? After all, my little hut was in the middle of nowhere, hidden in the deepest depths of the forest. The next village was a few miles away and only a few desperate souls willingly made the effort to seek me out.

Until now, no shinobi had been under these seekers.

Just when I breathed in to use my voice for the first time in forever, one of the shinobis looked directly at me. The one with the mask, hair colored in the same shade of the dead trees. White and grey, almost silver under the sun, all the while two black eyes bore right into my soul.

For some reason, a cold shiver rained down my back. I took one step backward, then another one. He didn't do anything, just stared and seemed to look right into my very being. No, I knew exactly what he was looking at and that wasn't my inside.

With a quick shake of my head, I let my hair fall in front of my face. All the while, I took more, uncertain steps backwards. Nobody should see me like this. Nobody, absolutely nobody. They were strangers, came from far away, would carry the rumors of a monster living in this forest further into the world.

My throat was dry, cold sweat clinging to my back.

The only thing I could hear was the fast rhythm of my heart, drumming against my ribcage in your panic and horror. I stumbled backwards and by now, the other three shinobi noticed me too. Just in the moment my hand pressed down the handle of the door, I could hear over the loud thrumming of my heart a shouted "Hey, you!", before I slammed the door shut, pressing my back against the solid wood.

Pf. As if the wood can withstand the combined force of four shinobi.

Palms flushed to the cool wood, spine pressing into the barricade, the wall, the protection against the world outside, the people waiting there. My knees trembled, until I couldn't hold yourself up any longer.

Slowly, I slid downwards, until my butt hit the cold stone ground and I was able to hide my face in my drawn-up knees. Maybe, when they realized I didn't want to see or meet them, they would go away. Maybe, if I just locked the door long enough, they would leave you alone again.

A knock vibrated through the wood.

Two slow raps, followed by another, heavy, deliberate one. The hollow sounds thundered through my whole body and a single sigh escaped my mouth, before my hands flew up to cover my traitorous lips. 'Fuck!', I thought.

"Hello."

Even though I didn't like most voices (too loud, too self-centered, too painful), this one was… quite nice. Smooth, warm, and foremost, almost silent. This man knew that a voice was something powerful and used it accordingly. Nothing like the people I knew.

Still, not enough to convince me to answer or even worse, open the door.

"We're sorry for intruding," the nice voice continued, "it certainly wasn't Naruto's intention. It's a nice garden out here."

Desperately, I bit my lower lip. No, not answering. It certainly was a trap. The man with the mask was for certain the closest thing I would ever get to know to the serious, deadly shinobi of your imagination.

"Do you possibly know how to treat his hands? Sakura, the girl you saw, won't take action and his whining will probably go on my nerves in a few hours if they are left unattended."

"No!"

I gritted my teeth. No, no answering, absolutely not. I knew all tactics to make me do things for others, the weak joking, the complimenting and praising, the threatening. With the burden placed upon my shoulders, I experienced all stages of manipulative behavior, and knew what people would do to gain power over others. Never, never again.