1 1: Prologue

Hello. My name is Jake Thompson. I'm fifteen years old.

I live in San Francisco, with my mom, Marie Thompson. She never married, and she has a full time job as a speech therapist downtown, in a small elementary school. I just finished tenth grade, and hope to get a summer job or something like that. I feel bad that my mom has always had to provide for me by herself, with no one to help her. She never married, like I said before, and she never really had a boyfriend or anything in the past years. She said she would never be able to handle being in a relationship. You're probably asking: How did she get pregnant with me?

Well…she didn't. Mom found me when she was hiking in the forest a few miles away from town, in the middle of a field, with nothing on but a plain white blanket wrapped tightly around me. She called up the authorities, and they took me in, and tried to find my parents. Now that's when the weird things started to happen. They took a blood sample to identify my parents when no one claimed me…but nothing came up. There was no one that shared my blood, not even when they searched not only San Francisco, but also the entire U.S. After a month of searching, they finally let my mom take me as her own, and she legally adopted me as her son.

Mom waited until I was a bit older to tell me all this, and that only served to further explain the oddities that had begun to emerge within me. I never told Mom about these strange happenings, as I knew it would only worry her. But they still happened.

The first weird thing happened when I was about eight. This boy, the class bully in second grade, took my favorite toy away at recess, and I got really, really mad. I loved Mr. Bunny; he was the only friend I had back then. But when his soft blue form was torn away from my embrace, I got so miserable and angry that I just snapped, and before I could stop myself I punched her in the face.

Now, ordinarily, an eight year old wouldn't do that much damage. Sure, they'd create a bruise or two, maybe breaking the skin, but that was when nails were involved. So when I broke Sally Kennedy's piggy little nose with one sure punch, they were a bit concerned, and I was immediately taken to a doctor, because normal eight years olds didn't have the strength to break noses at such a young age.

The doctor was shocked, and said that I was perfectly healthy, more than healthy in fact. He said that I was extraordinarily resilient for my age, and that my bones were strangely light and durable. My mom, who was distraught, pestered him to check if my hand was all right, after punching the boy. Typical. He laughed at that, and knelt down to look me in the eye.

"Now, Jake, you'll be more gentle next time, right? No more hitting if you get angry? You're stronger than your classmates. You could hurt someone, understand?"

I had nodded solemnly. "Yeah…but she took Mr. Bunny, so he deserved it." I had frowned at him, holding the bunny in question closer to my chest as I spoke. The doctor had smiled in defeat, and had signed some papers before talking quietly to my mother, and then he let us leave.

The second weird thing had happened more recently, when I was thirteen years old. But in the years before that, I had quickly discovered that I was different from the other kids, physically and mentally. I was quicker to answer questions, to calculate distance and height, and my reflexes far surpassed those of girls and boys my age. Physically, I was taller than most boys my age, and my muscles were more efficient, my bones thinner, more durable and flexible. I was able to run for longer periods of time, and I could jump and leap distances that astounded my coaches when they saw me.

But…I also learned that my…unique abilities were also a danger to me. I was teased often because others saw my natural gifts as freakish, and I quickly learned to make myself less efficient when I was around others, to force myself to trip and stumble like a normal boy would when running on uneven surface. But when I was alone…that was when I let myself see what I could do.

I wasn't perfect; after experimenting on my own I often came back with huge gashes on my arms from tree branches that I had misjudged when jumping down from a great height, or I sprained my ankle by trying to run through the thick brush of the nearby forest. But I got better, and I began to discover new things about myself as a result.

Now, back to that second weird thing. It started out like any day, well, any day for me anyway. I had gone to school, done my homework, and then right after school I went to the forest to work out. I started out by jogging through the forest for half an hour, and then I began sprinting up tree trunks, swinging myself up the branches.

When I got to the top, I sat down and took a short break. It had been a quiet morning, so when a squirrel suddenly dropped down right in front of my face, I screamed bloody murder, almost falling off of the tree. But after the squirrel scampered away, I noticed that my heart was thumping really, really fast, and my arms and legs were quivering, as if I expected to run for my life at any moment. But what really caught my attention was the glow that was being exuded from my palms. It was a pale blue color, and it swirled around my fingers like a fire, only I didn't get burned.

The instant I began to study it, the glow disappeared, and I was left trying to get that feeling back again.

But there was nothing. What had that been? I still don't know, even now.

I did find out that the glow only came when I was terrified to the point of running in fear, and so I began to imagine scary things, in an attempt to bring that glow back. I only succeeded in learning how to draw it to my hands, and even then it only lasted for a few seconds at most. The weird thing was though, when I had it in my grasp, how natural it felt…to have my hands glowing.

I mean, how weird is that?

That was the extent of the peculiarities mostly, and now, at fifteen, I feel as though I should be doing more than just sitting in trees trying to make my hands glow. I don't know how to describe it…it was like I wanted something to do that required me to use this power that I had been blessed with, to use that strength that I could wield with ease.

But of course, I was just a fifteen-year-old boy. Nothing interesting happened except the occasional smile from the really cute girl that walked past our house every day.

How pathetic.

I sighed, sitting up on my bed and glancing over at the clock. It was Friday, and Mom's school didn't get out for summer until at least three in the afternoon. It was only eight o'clock. In the morning. Ugh.

I slipped out of my bed, and quickly changed into some shorts, tugging on a black shirt. I ran a brush through my hair, admiring for a moment how the thick blonde waves glimmered in the sunlight before snorting to myself and turning to skip down the hall, and into the kitchen.

The kitchen was empty, and the sunlight made the pretty teal painted cupboards glow. I yawned, grabbing myself a granola bar and munching on it as I slipped on my tennis shoes. I shoved the rest of my bar in my mouth, and walked out the door, closing it securely behind me. Might as well go have some fun in the forest…beats sitting in the house and doing nothing.

I smiled as the wind blew gently in my hair, making it blow behind me. I loved my hair; it really was my best feature. It was a rich golden color, and went in waves to my middle back.

Okay, enough admiring yourself, Narcissus…I scolded myself sharply, and I shook my head as I walked. It was a beautiful morning, and if I hadn't been so caught up in my thoughts, I might have heard the distant yells from behind me. But it wasn't long before my ears caught the sounds of the screeching of the tires, and I turned.

A truck was swerving dangerously on the road, and the driver's eyes were wide and scared as his hands struggled with the wheel. But that wasn't what made me gasp.

A little girl, no more than five, was sitting calmly in the middle of the road, her back facing the truck, humming to herself as she drew chalk. Normally, I'd be screaming for her to get out of the way, but this was different.

I knew this little girl. Her name was Jennifer, and she was deaf, she had been deaf all of her life. She wouldn't hear the truck, and she wouldn't hear my screams.

I was running before I could blink, and I pushed myself as fast as I could. I saw people frown angrily as I pushed them out of the way, but they gasped when they saw who I was running to save.

I felt my heart racing as I saw the girl's parents screaming, running toward the road. But the truck was too close now, they would never make it. But I would. I was stronger then anyone else, I could reach her in time. I had to reach her in time. I was different from everyone else, I could do things they couldn't. I couldn't just let these gifts go to waste. I had to use them…even at the risk of my own life.

I waved frantically, and the girl looked up, her large green eyes brightening as she recognized me. She waved.

Oh for the love of all that's holy!

I motioned for her to move out of the way, and she frowned. I was almost there, and then she turned around. Her eyes widened, and she screamed, fear freezing her where she sat. The truck was almost to her, and I was even closer.

My heart pounded, and I felt the glow reaching my fingertips, filling me with strength as I yanked the girl out of the way. But the truck was on us now, the roaring of the engine in my ears.

Time seemed to stop as I made the decision that would change my life forever. I pushed Jennifer to my right, out of the way, and then the truck hit me.

It was only a split second in which I remained aware, and in that moment…it was almost as if I was glowing. I saw light filling my vision as I felt hard metal slam against my head, so hard that everything was lost in the light. Pain filled me, and I felt a floating sensation, as if I had suddenly sprouted wings. My eyes closed.

This wasn't how I wanted to die. But I guess life was like that. You never knew how long you had left. At least…Jennifer will live for another day. That's all that mattered, in the end.

Right?

I felt the weight of the truck for another split second, and then everything went dark. Blissful darkness, and I felt my consciousness slip away into nothing.

The truck hit the blonde teenager at a speed that made Jennifer gasp. But…why was Jake…glowing? It was like he was floating in mid-air, his eyes closing as the metal front of the bumper collided with his head. The truck continued with its mad rush forward, and yet he seemed to vanish as the truck zoomed by.

Jennifer screamed. She couldn't hear herself, but she could feel the arms of her sobbing parents around her.

He was gone. But where was his body? Where was she? There was…nothing. No blood, no body. It was almost as if…he had never been there at all.

Meanwhile....

A tall blonde teenage ninja was crouched on the slab of stone; his body crouched in agony and rage. A red shroud of chakra swirled around him, and his normally blue eyes were bleeding crimson, with black slits, and canines that hung over his mouth menacingly.

A cry of loss and agony tore through him, and the gray haired ninja in the trees gasped as another tail of bubbling chakra began to join the first. It fully formed, and suddenly there was a flash of light, a blinding light that made the boy cringe into the rock.

But when it cleared, there was nothing.

The gray haired ninja leapt forward, and slapped the small square seal on the boy's headband, and the boy immediately calmed, the red chakra vanishing.

The boy slumped forward into the arms of the ninja, struggling to calm his labored breathing, and the silver haired man glanced around nervously. They were alone, for the moment, nothing had appeared after the flash of light. Strange.

The Fox's chakra has done this before…but what was that light? That's never happened. I don't like the look of this.

But those nervous thoughts were swept away as a pink haired girl and a old woman landed beside them. They were covered in dirt and blood, and the older woman was heaving huge gasps as she leaned heavily on the young woman who was beside her.

"Kakashi-sensei, is Gaara–" The girl's emerald green eyes widened as they took in the still form. The gray haired ninja's eyes closed.

"We were…too late, Sakura. I'm sorry."

Sakura's emerald eyes were glistening as she blinked rapidly, her lips trembling in shock. "Gaara's…dead?"

The old woman coughed. "No, he isn't. No yet anyway."

"What do you mean?" Naruto coughed softly, his agonized eyes darting to the beady eyes of the older kunoichi who was sighing a sad sigh that seemed to come from within her bones.

"No time. Just get Gaara to the others, and I'll save him."

The pink haired girl frowned. "Chiyo-sama, how are you going to save him? Surely you can't be–"

Chiyo's eyes saddened. "Yes, I am going to use that jutsu. It's alright…" Naruto's eyes were confused, but Chiyo waved her hand to stop his questions.

Sakura's eyes filled with tears once more, but they all obeyed the woman, and vanished, taking the motionless body along with them.