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- BORUTO and NARUTO: What We Will Be Someday

In a prosperous future and awaiting its own events, a Scroll appears that condemns all of its Humanity, to the Total Cataclysm, and to the permanent extinction of its Time. However, he is not as extinct as expected... Sarutobi Mirai, almost sixteen years old, is the Captain of a squad made up of children around twelve to fourteen years old. Not only does she struggle not to be discovered by the Ninjas of her Unknown Past and Extinct Future, but also due to the abandonment of her older comrades and her lack of resources. But she is not the only Ninja who seeks to protect her loved ones based on a promise... Well, from a Town surrounded by leaves, there is someone who will do everything possible to find the cause of all this. Warning: The FanFiction Was Originally Published in SPANISH, so, in advance, a deep apology for the English translator.

CassieNilonis · Anime e quadrinhos
Classificações insuficientes
60 Chs

FROM A DISTANCE, ON THE SANDS OF THE WINDLAND...

Mirai couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so much tension. In the not-so-distant past, he would have fulfilled his mission without any fear.

However, being with his teammates now was worrying. Not because they weren't competent, but because I felt the constant need to protect them.

The idea of getting home together gave them a goal, but now they had nowhere to return. Their parents, uncles, siblings, cousins... None of them would be waiting for them at the gates of the village.

The words "Past" and "Konoha" echoed in his mind. She thanked them for following her at a calmer pace, hiding her surprise.

He remembered the conversations of the Anbu as they hid. If their calculations were correct, the adults they would find would not exactly be young adults. Perhaps they would be the same age as her, which would allow them to understand her and her intentions.

Without showing his concern, he shook his head, though only in his mind. She didn't want to disturb anyone, especially knowing that at least two of them were watching her closely. His sad expression turned into a bitter grimace in seconds.

The idea of having known adults wouldn't work if she was alone. I couldn't act as I wanted or investigate as much as I wanted. Their attention should be focused on these children.

Taking advantage of the tranquility of the road, now that they weren't running, Mirai began to form a plan in her head. He looked over his shoulder to make sure everyone was complete.

"If you are hungry, open the cans of food you took. Share with each other and try to manage it." He said, turning his gaze straight ahead as he swung his arms in search of concentration. "We don't know what we'll find in the desert, but food is scarce."

"Hai." They answered behind his back. 

The teenager took advantage of the moment to quickly recap and begin to formulate a plan. His eyes locked into nothingness as he walked, and the sound of cans and bags echoed in his ears. Surely his mother had packed some bagged food that wouldn't spoil.

They woke up in the past. Literally, in the past. The cause of this, of course, he had not revealed to the children. He mentioned few things that might be useful, as she was in his shoes until recently. However, details such as the blood pact and other aspects were kept hidden.

Apparently, the adults of Konoha were aware of this attack. And since Mirai and the other survivors were proof of this, the adults were likely to know that they would have no escape. A scroll was responsible, as were the people who found it.

Its original owners were descended from an individual known to Mirai's grandfather, the third Hokage. These people helped Konoha to make a pact with the scroll and carry out the Jutsu. It must have been highly confidential information, since Mirai, being the Hokage's escort, did not learn anything for months.

He frowned. Was she really destined to be a mission leader? He knew his teacher quite well, but sometimes he had behaviors that even his own son could not understand.

Mirai learned about the constant arguments from Temari-san. Apparently, Shikamaru-san and Shikadai were constantly arguing about the missions and how strange they were. When he heard about these discussions and the names mentioned, he had to leave the Nara house to confirm that he was indeed at his master's house.

And Shikadai wasn't the only one. In the weeks leading up to the tragedy, he heard a lot of trouble, not only among members of his entourage, but also among the ninjas of Konoha.

Really, during all this time they refrained from giving them accurate information to protect them?

Mirai was still unclear about the issue of parchment, blood pact, and the transmission of memories. They were supposed to avoid creating meaningful memories, as they could supposedly interfere with the seal.

A knot formed in his stomach at this confusing information. Why hadn't she and her mother fought then?

His mother was acting strangely lately. He had a blank stare and spent more time looking at his father's photograph. However, he never reproached Mirai for anything. He didn't even ignore her when the Sarutobi casually questioned about her master's behavior. His mother's response was simply a gesture and a smile, letting the subject pass.

Perhaps there was something else they didn't tell him. Perhaps I would find that answer in the address noted.

Suddenly, something stood in front of her face, causing her to stop in her tracks. Those who followed her also stopped without any concern.

It was a transparent bag the size and shape of a pencil. Inside, Mirai instantly recognized some little balls.

"Soldier's pills?" He asked. 

"They are similar, but they are not." Namida replied, holding out the bag. His voice sounded almost hoarse, as he hadn't spoken since he cried along with the others more than half an hour ago. "They don't taste as bad as I thought..."

Mirai was not a fan of soldier pills, but more than once she had been helped in her missions. They tasted bland, almost tasteless, but provided enough vitamins to survive a night or two on just one serving.

He hesitated at Genin's shy attitude, but he thanked the offer by accepting the bag of the small pills. He looked at them before taking one and placing it in the palm of his hand. They were lighter in color than the ones I used to eat and were smaller, similar in size to candy. They even felt more like candy than a ninja food alternative.

He slipped the pill into his mouth effortlessly and kept his hand in his mouth until he managed to taste it. It tasted good. It wasn't disgusting or uncomfortable like the others, but sweet and a little strong, similar to children's medicines or vitamins for personal consumption.

"Are they really soldier's pills? Or maybe an imitation?" He asked, raising the bag to eye level. His question broke the silence of the road. 

"I've never seen them. Not even the alternatives to the original pills." He added, visually examining the ones left in the bag. 

"Are soldier pills so disgusting?" Namida asked, opening her eyes in surprise. 

"It depends on how long you consume them. When you get used to it, even the non-existent taste becomes relaxing." Mirai explained, as she continued to chew the pills and look at the others in the bag. 

Namida lowered her gaze and a small smile was drawn on her lips. Although he looked sad, there was a slight curvature in his mouth. Without the eldest noticing, some began to look for warmth that would keep them away from trouble.

It was only two steps before the Genin was close enough to the Sarutobi to graze her shoulder. I longed to be closer and to feel their company.

The previous hug had been an emotional lifeline, and I wanted to feel something similar again. Namida had lost her mother, whom she loved with all her heart. In such a short time, the teenager had given him something that only Wasabi did when Namida was not with her mother.

However, a scream abruptly interrupted them.

Mirai turned sharply, startling Namida, who almost lost her balance, but Tsubaki, not far away, held her just in time. The shout came from the rear of the squadron.

"What's going on?" Mirai exclaimed, almost desperate, trying to stay calm. 

"It's Doushu, Mirai-san." Enko replied, wearing his huge gloves. 

Tsuru, who had Doushu's arm on his shoulders, looked at Mirai with concern.

"He can't stand and is breathing hurriedly." He looks like he has a fever...

"What?" Mirai was alarmed.

"Are you okay, Doushu?" Someone else asked. 

Everyone rushed over and surrounded Genin's team. Mirai, taking advantage of the open passage, ran towards them. He put his hand on the chestnut tree's forehead, lifting the cap he was wearing a little. With his fingerless gloves, he had to stay for a while to assess the temperature of the Genin.

"Doushu-kun, have you been feeling bad all this time?" Mirai asked, worried. 

The question surprised many. A brief silence was interrupted by a groan from Doushu. His hair fell over his face, and he didn't seem to have the strength to stand upright. Even the tip of his nose was beginning to redden.

The Chunin analyzed Doushu's condition, without taking her hand off the young man's cheek, attentive to any change in temperature.

Determined to act, she reached through her belongings and pulled out a small scroll. When he opened it, a momentary smokescreen enveloped everyone. As the smoke cleared, Mirai was putting on a yellow coat that she had saved for occasions like this, when the cold was tight.

With her back turned toward Tsuru, Mirai crouched down. Although she was more or less dry, her uniform was still wet, which could have contributed to Doushu's illness. He decided to change his position to avoid worsening his condition.

"Fasten Doushu's cloak tightly." Mirai asked without looking at the ninja doctor of Ibiki's team. "Make sure he's warm and put him on my back. I'll carry him until he can walk on his own or until we stop."

"Ah... Hai!" The dark-haired girl replied, hesitant but obedient. 

Mirai stood up, readjusting the child on her back. Doushu settled down, resting his cheek on the Chunin's shoulder. Enko, his partner, adjusted his cap and did not let go until he was sure that his friend could rest undisturbed. Within a few minutes, the boy's calm, heavy breaths became audible.

"Come on." Mirai said, looking ahead.

Holding Doushu's legs to prevent him from falling, he tried to pull a compass out of his pocket. He looked out of her corner of his eye.

"Tanaka-san told me more or less where to go. I don't know how long it will take... but don't go too far away if you want to overtake me." He warned. 

"Where exactly are we going?" Metal Lee asked, approaching with his cloak on, followed by Boruto, Sarada and Mitsuki. 

Mirai frowned slightly.

"I'm not sure... He didn't give me details." He just said we'd find people.

The Genin followed his gaze, gazing out over the vast wilderness of the Land of the Wind that lay ahead. They were already beginning to worry about the hard road ahead, especially with one of them sick and the possibility that others would also become infected.

A cold breeze made everyone shudder. Sarada hugged herself, preparing for what was to come.

Mirai glanced at her sideways, and thought to herself with great concern.

"At this rate... We will be easy prey for the worst criminals of this age. We have to hurry."

(~~~)

Somewhere near the Land of Fire, a man was walking in obvious exhaustion, his knees almost without strength to support him. The moans of pain gave a glimpse of the wounds on his legs, especially on his knees, where blood spilled in a dark trail on the ground, barely visible in the moonlight.

The man, apparently in his late twenties, was wearing a dark robe over a long-sleeved shirt and dark pants. Her ninja sandals, too tight, showed the size error she had been given. Although her skin no longer looked as pale as it had in her days of delirium, it still bore the marks of her suffering.

His plans had long since been discovered and he captured. After his transfer to Konoha prisons, the people who had been following in his footsteps for years had finally caught him. Despite his more peaceful intentions, he ended up in prison.

Now, freed in the midst of the cataclysm, he was alone and lost, questioning the reason for all his misfortunes. He had always been considered an outcast, separated from the rest because he did not share the same beliefs and values.

As he walked with a scythe on his back, he had plenty of time to reflect on his past. It had not been his intention to protect anyone; His goal was to obtain an immortal body at any cost. However, circumstances had changed his perspective. Although he did not regret most of his actions, he now faced impending destruction with no clear direction.

Konoha's lack of communication baffled him. Why had they released him if they were all condemned? He had received no explanations, only the opportunity to save himself. Ryūki considered himself a misunderstood genius, unable to understand why others did not share his worldview.

With a nagging pain in the back of his neck and the uncertainty of the future, he wondered if his desire to obtain an immortal body was really worth it.

The man had nothing and no one. He had walked at his own pace and without worries since waking up on the outskirts of Konoha, intending to return to the country where he was born. However, in the middle of a little-traveled road, he was forced to stop abruptly when a sharp headache hit him again.

"Damn..." He muttered, putting a hand to his head as he battled the pain. 

With his vision clouded by the pressure on the side of his head, he spotted a building on the side of the road. Limping with pain in his legs, he made his way to the steps that would lead him to the doors of this seemingly casual place.

When he arrived, he frowned when he realized that it was simply some baths.

"Hm... they are just bathrooms." He murmured disdainfully when he perceived the unpleasant smell. The stench, at least, brought him out of his near-fainting trance. 

He took a few steps back and dropped on his back to the ground, resting his feet on the steps down. Despite being alone from the beginning, he now had a chance to take a break from his tiring walk.

He massaged the back of his neck, trying to relieve the burning in his muscles. But when the walls of the confinement building were razed to the ground by an unknown force, destroying the pillars that supported the roof, Ryūki didn't have time to observe his surroundings. Instinctively, he looked for a way out.

As always, they did not hesitate to release the inmates to fight, as if he owed something to the people who had him locked up there. Among all the weapons he was offered, he chose a scythe that he knew more than well, almost at his height and with a hidden double edge.

There was a moment when his muscles stopped responding. When some ninja approached to take him to the battlefield, he plunged into darkness. He woke up with a pain all over his body and, when he regained consciousness, he realized that his knees were visibly hurt for some reason.

The strangest thing was that there was no one around him: no ninjas, no rubble, no corpses. Ignoring the pain in his legs, he tried to position himself. When he got far enough, he saw a quiet village, enjoying a horribly peaceful sunset.

"What the hell happened?" He asked himself annoyedly.

With a growl, he tilted his neck to the side and stretched out his arms, seeking relief in the movement of his muscles.

"Oh my gosh, and how kind he was being to me. I was waiting for the moment for my sentence to be reduced."

Exasperated and to some extent cynical, he dropped his shoulders and laid his arms on his knees. He was crestfallen, but then he frowned and licked his lips.

"What am I saying? I missed my chance a long time ago. I even broke my pact not to use bad words."

His unaddressed comments were vague and inaudible to himself. He spoke only because he had no other way to distract himself.

I didn't know where to go and had decided that there was no point in returning to a place where I would no longer be welcome.

Where, in fact, it had never been from the beginning. I didn't even feel like destroying it, at least not without an immortal body and much less when I didn't gain anything doing it.

"What a bummer."

His brief remark was quickly silenced by the cold breeze of the night. Like a free man in a world without meaning and no desire to explore, he sat there, waiting for some other catastrophe that would take him somewhere where it meant nothing.

Like an idiot, he ignored Konoha who stood up as if nothing had happened, because he didn't care. The lives of these people were not their problem.

But he was not willing to accept it if it happened a second time.

Staring blankly at the road, the clear moonlight bathed him in the cold darkness.

"Will this be a test of Jashin-sama to see if I am able to be by his side?" He muttered to nothingness. Frankly, he himself did not pay attention to his words. "I don't know... Maybe it's some sort of exact amount of lives to take him or something. I'm not even sure anymore."

From one moment to the next, he lost track of time. Although it wasn't as relaxing, at least it was quieter than prison. He could feel the fresh air, as long as he didn't flip over and the stench of the baths didn't invade his nose.

His mind took an almost unique and reassuring path. His sight was lost, and he felt no need to turn it away. He didn't want to lose that feeling so alien to him. I had never felt that thing called "peace" before. He couldn't remember the last time he'd experienced it.

Because, although everyone kept talking about the time of peace, he had never felt true peace. It was a simulation, a lie for the weak who wasted their days doing nothing.

He was already losing his sense of sight, but he wasn't worried. Everything was blurry, and I knew it was thanks to the state she was in. Until everything collapsed. The anti-sounding wall he had built crumbled with a single sound behind him.

He bit his tongue so as not to let out any insults. Not because he didn't want to, but because he would find it annoying to waste saliva on something unimportant.

When he looked over his shoulder, with an unfriendly expression, he noticed something unusual in him: a slight twitch in his eye. It was a surprise that was not tingling, but rather curiosity to see something that was not there before.

"And who are you?" He asked, although the person did not answer. 

Staying on the sidelines and not overconfident, he continued in his position. However, his eye did not leave the man standing in front of the doors of the disgusting public restroom.

The man at the door seemed to be shorter than him, heavier and hairless. His eyes were exaggeratedly round and even gloomy, with a black mustache that completely covered his mouth. He felt uncomfortable seeing it.

The man, wearing a light gray robe and his hands behind his back, did not look uneasy. It was as if he was used to that place.

Although his eye dried up from the force he put so he wouldn't lose sight of it in case of an unexpected move, something inside him told him that he had to put an end to it.

"But why should I? I'm not interested in it and I won't waste my time on nonsense." He replied to his inner voice. 

Subconsciously, he tightened his grip on his scythe. Suddenly, she didn't feel so heavy anymore.

"Have you been sitting here all this time?" The man asked, without moving. Out of mistrust, Ryūki remained static and alert. 

The other man slowly approached. Ryūki felt no fear, but a slight anxiety, not at all uncomfortable or alarming. His brain wanted to react, but his body didn't respond. The grip on his scythe faltered, and his eyes did not leave the man as he approached.

With his heart beating fast and saliva filling his mouth, Ryūki listened silently as the man spoke in a calm and carefree tone, as if he had known him before. Of course, he didn't interrupt it to avoid a surprise attack.

The footsteps ceased and the man with the black mustache addressed him again.

"I thought I heard a lot of noise outside, so I waited for everything to stop to take a look." He reported. "But it seems that it was just my imagination."

There was a pause as the man surveyed his surroundings.

"Kakuzu-dono is not with you? Did they argue or something?"

A conversation had begun, and Ryūki seemed to be the center of it. All because that man treated him with confidence, as if they knew each other.

The stranger rummaged through the pockets of his dressing gown and finally lit a cigarette.

"He's a man of money. Not even the best-thought-out philosophy will do anything against your beliefs. He will invent his." He said, exhaling smoke that dissipated in the scarcity of light. 

Ryūki remained silent, frowning slightly, not knowing how to go along with him. He didn't understand why he felt compelled to impersonate the person the man thought he was.

Because that man treated him as if he were an acquaintance, someone who hung out with a man named "Kakuzu."

The sound of the cigarette and the man's exhalation kept repeating, creating a tense atmosphere. Ryūki finally glanced sideways at the man, and their eyes met. The man blew smoke for a long moment before falling silent, staring at Ryūki. When he looked away to ignore him, the man snorted.

"What's going on? When you came in you didn't stop making unnecessary comments." He said, throwing away his cigarette and heading to a corner of the door with his hands in his pockets. His slow steps made Ryūki uneasy. "The night returns to the most mature men and they find themselves. You're one of them, aren't you? You're more reflective than the first time we met."

"What are you implying, old man?" Ryūki jumped up contemptuously, a bitter grimace on his face. "Mind your own business."

"You see." The other replied, unconcerned. "I just came to smoke a cigarette. You're in front of my business, drawing attention. You are a companion of Kakuzu-san, do you understand how serious it is?"

Ryūki glanced at him sideways. The man couldn't see her face, but Ryūki was reaching the point he curiously wanted to find.

The other went on, complaining.

"I heard Kakuzu-san say something interesting about you today... but I see that your values are very different from his. It's a shame."

"About me?"

"That's right." The one with the bulging eyes cleared his throat. "Tell me, what did he mean when he said he couldn't kill you?"

Ryūki became expressionless. Then, a grimace escaped.

"Huh?"

"Come on, don't play dumb." Joked the one with the mustache. "You have to have some special ability for Kakuzu-san to say something like that. Even better, Akatsuki wouldn't choose you if you weren't talented. What are you hiding?"

"You ask too many questions to just be someone smoking in front of your business." Ryūki's voice grew colder. In the moonlight, his eyes shone steadily toward the stranger. "That business you're talking about is nothing more than taking care of the bathrooms. There's no one who attracts more attention than you right now."

"Even your tone sounds more passive than before. Seriously, did you and Kakuzu-san break ties? That's not right. Not good at all!" The man shook his head, unconcerned. "If he's letting you accompany him, it's because you serve to attract more merchandise."

Ryūki was fed up. She wanted the man to say what she had to say at once, but she felt that much of it was not her responsibility.

Not because it wasn't his problem, but because he didn't feel like wasting his time. He watched his knees, and when he noticed that the blood stopped falling and was drying, he grimaced, as if reluctantly agreeing to some request.

"Are you leaving yet?" The man asked. 

"I've wasted enough time with your meaningless talk," Ryūki replied, standing up and preparing for another walk. She didn't feel like it, but she wanted to get away from that man as soon as possible. "I don't know what happened around me, and therefore I have nowhere to go."

"Oh?" The man's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You're more reserved than I thought. You have your own issues to solve, and yet you are not opposed to working together with Kakuzu-dono."

Ryūki joked as the annoyance returned to his feet, completely ignoring the mention of that man he didn't know. He glared at his sandals. He had taken the first ones he was given when they were released, and he could not walk barefoot in the world. Those sandals were the only shoes he had left.

If they broke, he had no choice but to get other shoes somewhere.

"Hmmm?" The man bit his tongue, drowning out his urge to yell at Ryūki. "What's that? I don't see you very comfortable."

"And what's wrong with you, old man?! Stop bothering me!"

"¡¿...?! I didn't mean to!" The annoyed stranger raised his palms in calm. 

"Whatever... I'm leaving." Ryūki began his walk with leaps and bounds. "You'd better not follow me!"

"..."

Ryūki walked a few yards, holding the pangs against the skin of his foot. He frowned, fighting internally over not choosing bigger sandals in prison.

For their defense, they were to blame. How are they going to give smaller sandals in an adult prison? Thinking of a man the size of that foot caused him a certain amusement and disgust.

But he didn't have time to laugh. The material of the sandals heavily scratched his right foot, tearing the skin negligibly. It wasn't a serious injury, but it was very problematic if your goal was to walk all the time.

"I don't see you very comfortable!"

"Go watch the baths and leave me alone, old man!"

Ryūki turned his back on the man, letting out a childish growl. He clenched his fists with the scythe slung on his back and his eyes rolling.

He didn't want to get hurt, but he also didn't want to listen to that old man one more time...

"You know..." The man spoke again from the steps sooner rather than later. "You know? I'll do you a favor, so I'll be close at hand."

"Oh?" Ryūki turned around with an almost comical expression. "Are you going to ... to exchange your shoes?"

"Are you kidding? If they see you wearing them, they'll probably discover the hiding place. There are few on the market."

Ryūki was left with the words in his mouth. He had tolerated being mistaken for someone else just because he had nothing better to do, but he found it annoying that this man was playing with him so much.

"The man... You know, the merchandise they brought, it helped us a lot. We hardly received good goods."

Ryūki listened intently. Although the way he spread his feet and clenched his fists did not present him as the reserved man that the smoker had praised before.

"I shouldn't tell you because it's a rule of business, since... You know, under these skies, the wind blows a lot of things away." He gestured. "But to another with that story, I'm going to help you."

"Why would you?"

"I just said it, heavens..." The mustachioed man sighed and shook his head. "You're so reserved... and so suspicious, I like you."

Ryūki rolled his eyes, thankful that the man didn't notice his annoyed expression.

"Recently, we just added someone to the list." He said. "She's a girl, she comes from a noble family."

"Noble family...?"

"That's right. They ask a lot of money for it, because it carries with it an object that many are looking for."

"And why don't they take the object away from her while she is distracted and that's it?"

The ninja from the hot spring village behaved in an ironic and frank manner. He would call the other man crazy and look for any opportunity to discredit him and trap him in his lie.

Although he looked more like a child throwing a tantrum than an adult being cautious. What that man saw in reserve in him was most certainly a play of moonlight.

"That object is the key to something that only she knows. We only know the rumors." The man in the dressing gown informed him. "She comes from a destroyed city, and she knows the password to enter its ruins. It is said that there is a treasure."

"I understand... You're not a bathroom caretaker."

"Of course I'm not!" The one with the mustache was funny. 

But Ryūki rolled his eyes.

"With that face you take me...!!"

"The order is new." The other let the joke pass and approached him, handing him a sheet of paper. "If you go to that address, you'll find it. That is his photo."

"Hm?"

With a raised eyebrow, Ryūki examined the photo. He immediately noticed that he didn't know her from anywhere. He could also see that this was a really young girl, maybe a girl in her teens.

He wondered for a moment if this girl really had something very important with her. And what was more alarming, if this old man was telling the truth.

"What will happen if I find her? I have no interest in participating in this nonsense." He returned the photo with a contemptuous gesture, downplaying it. 

"Hm?" The stranger looked surprised. "Really...? Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm asking seriously!"

The man had to hold the photograph tightly. He had been taken by surprise by the scream, and he was even more surprised that Ryūki looked away again as if nothing had happened. He believed that he was dealing with an unstable man, who was hiding under his analytical personality.

Of course, he was more than wrong.

"Please take this with you, because you won't let me go down well if you bring someone else." He said, trying to keep the conversation private. "No matter how you do it, you have to bring her in dead."

Ryūki was static. He was not surprised, let alone horrified, for he had done that act himself a lot of times. But the fact that a girl of her age was on the blacklist was the cause of her bewilderment.

"Well, I'm leaving. The boss will be asking for me." Ryūki kept the paper and photograph in hand, while the man said goodbye only raising his hand. Afterwards, he got lost in the horrifying baths. 

Ryūki decided to give it a thumbs up. I had nowhere to go and nothing to do. He was a free man, and since he had nothing left to lose, he forced himself to read the detailed contents of the sheet of paper.

His eyesight did not adapt to the gloom. The moonlight hadn't reached its position, and Ryūki didn't want to get close to the place where he was sitting before. If he did, his feet would suffer again, and that man would come out to tell him that he forgot something. And he wasn't in the mood for both.

"This..."

He glanced casually at the paper, deciding to wait for his eyes to get used to the darkness. Suddenly, his eyes widened in surprise as the moonlight finally bathed him.

"Princess of Rouran.

She has soft red hair, with semi-purple cerulean eyes. She is about sixteen years old, and is seen in the deserts of the windland, near the ruins of Rouran.

Price:???

She responds to the name 'Sarah1.'"