The months after the attack are like a faded dream. Everything just spinning and spinning round and round until it all spun together like wisps of smoke. It felt like I could have just waved a hand through it and everything would just fall apart.

Waking up alive after the attack soaked to the bone in the bath was nice surprise. Finding out that it had been a day since the attack and no one had come for me was a, to say the least, less than nice surprise.

My first immediate thought was that either both my parents were dead or that they thought I was dead. That last thought didn't really make any sense though, if they thought I was dead wouldn't they still come back for my body?

It was more likely that they were dead and no one else knew where I was.

When I tried to move myself from my hunched position I found that my bones felt fused together. So much time in one position with ice cold water raining down on me had made me feel like an ice carving. Working on bending my toes first, then rolling my ankles, and flexing my calves and thighs I finally felt I was ready to move from the bathtub and find my way out of this half burned down house.

Walking was surprisingly easy, without the Kyuubi knocking me off my feet every few seconds was most probably the cause of my success.

Traveling across the length of my house was like the march of the dead. As I walked further and further I became covered head to toe in charred ash, ironically I was almost the same color as when my shadows covered me.

Almost as in response to my thoughts on them, they stirred and waved a feeling like worry under my skin. Apparently they could emote now. Yeah, not going to think about that, I just took comfort in them as they wrapped themselves around me, under my skin.

I was slow but steady in my walk down the hall, almost to the front door. I really didn't want to open it. Opening that door was to admit that my parents were most likely dead. Most likely I would be gathered with all of the other orphans and their legacy would eventually be forgotten. In the end it would be like they didn't even exist at all.

But I had faced my own death before. Those people that had become my parents in the short time I knew them would be a blow but not as big as losing my last family had been.

In the end what would it matter that they had died, I had moved on before and I would continue to do so. The march of the dead was one I had marched before, this would be no harder.

I put my uninjured palm on the door knob, absently noting that I was now completely covered in ash, and opened the door.

After my eyes recovered from the initial glare I noted that the weather was bright and sunny without a cloud in the sky. It was a jarring contrast from the screams and wailing coming from the civilians around me.

As I looked up I could spot shinobi jumping from roof to roof headed to dig out civilians and scope out the disaster area. What looked like chunin and genin teams were on the ground helping with dirty and confused small children and wailing adults.

Dazed and apathetic I wandered from my front door to the beginning of the street and sat down. There was no where pressing I had to be, and it looked like none of the other people noticed me yet.

My shadows tightened their grip and tried to comfort me as much as they were able to but still the outside world hazed and time flowed by.

Time seemed immaterial flowing by in a haze only marked by civilians and shinobi passing me and the sun slowly warming my chilled in my own head I barely acknowledged when a dark shape blocked my view, when it didn't move after a minute I focused my strained eyes and looked up.

The grim and dirty face of my father greeted me. I was not particularly happy or sad, really I felt nothing at all for him in that moment. I had a faint wave of guilt float through me at that thought but it was quickly squashed at the look on his face. He didn't look very happy to see me either. As he continued to just stare right through me I observed him.

He expression looked like his whole world had ended, he was covered head to toe in ash and blood and burn marks. He didn't have to say a single word, I knew that my mother was dead.

I didn't feel much of anything at that realization either. I wondered, as we continued to stare at each other, if I would feel much of anything ever again. I felt faintly amused at that thought and felt my shadows stir under my skin. I wondered vaguely if my shadows had been concentrated underneath the skin around my eyes if others would notice them. They eyes were the windows to the soul after all and right now I felt as dark and wisp-like as a shadow could ever hope to be.

—

The funeral for my mother wasn't much of a funeral at all.

"Too many dead." the officials said, " to give every ninja a proper burial."

They burned her on a pier with the other dead as my father and I watched. Afterwards they carved each name into the memorial stone.

Father had shown up and stood by me but as soon as it was over he was gone. He always seemed to be gone now.

I clenched the hand that had been burned a silvery sheen covering my entire palm and fingers. I would never feel anything there again. The fire had burned away my nerve endings and the medics had had to worry about much more severe wounds than mine. They gave me a wrap and burn cream and didn't think about me again.

It hurts sometimes when I touch something too cool, aches inside of my hand like someone was trying to grind my bones.

I flex my fist sometimes just to feel the hurt. Sometimes I wonder if that is all I will ever feel, just pain and nothing.

Years pass and I still feel empty, my father is almost never home. I have had to raise myself in his absence.I smile faintly and it is not a nice smile but it is amused. Could you really abandon a child that wasn't a child? It doesn't matter in the end, I take care of myself and when it is time I enroll myself in the academy.

Standing in front of the doors and watching parents reassure nervous children I smile faintly again, it is the same not nice smile from before. This time though there is the faint hint of shadows swirling around me and sharp teeth flashing. I feel more and more like I brought something with me after being pushed out of death. It feels big and monstrous and tastes like hellfire and brimstone, and it anchors itself in me a little bit at a time. But I couldn't seem to decide if it truly was something alien or if brimstone was just the taste of my anger.

I see more and more children show up, clan children are glaringly obvious but so are the civilian children. All of them are nervous and excited and scared. I could see it in their faces and also feel it in their chakras, I smiled a little wider flashing more teeth that looked oddly sharpened in my small mouth, and I feel a little more amused as their nervousness increases.

They don't notice me yet but few do when I don't want to be seen. It seems my only talent is hiding and I am only talented because of my shadows but since my father has practically disappeared from my life I have increasingly trained in the use of said shadows. It was the only head start i'd have it seemed, what with no father to teach me.

I crooked my head and my interest peaked when I saw children start to arrive that I recognized. I saw Sakura with her petal pink hair and her shyness, standing apart and digging the tip of her small sandaled toe into the ground. I wondered absently if Ino would be there to knock that out of her or if she would drop out from her own failings.

Absently I twisted a strand of my lions mane of hair around my finger, my hair being the only thing that really stood out about me. It wasn't as big of an inconvenience of pink hair but only because when I willed it my shadows would twist through my locks and create a slithering mass of black. I had been assured by the one civilian that I had accidentally shown it too that it was terrifying, the way they had pissed their pants had been both disgusting and oddly satisfying.

I turned my mind from such things and twist the shadows back into myself, they caress my bones and see through my eyes. Sometimes I don't know if I have a physical body or if I am made out of ribbons of dark and painted over to give me color.

I let go of the thought and turn towards where the prospective shinobi have gathered, their parents have trickled away and all that is left are innocent faces turned towards the Hokage. I even spot a hint of yellow hair and blue eyes before it is covered up by the crowd.