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One day I decided to try on a kimono. I got dolled up for no other reason than I simply wanted to. One of the villagers had given me some dresses and hair clips since she could no longer use them, and I decided to hold on to them.

I didn't have to do any more chores that day aside from feeding my animals, so afterward I dressed up.

Madara and Hashirama visited me once I was finished getting ready, and both boys did a double-take when they saw me.

"Whoa!" Hashirama exclaimed, his eyes bulging. "I-I'm sorry, Sasori! I thought you were a boy."

"M-Me too," Madara added, gaping.

"You were right," I said, "I was a boy when I met both of you. But today I want to be a girl."

This threw both boys for a loop.

Hashirama asked me, astounded, "You can do that?"

"Sure. I just did."

Both of their faces scrunched up as the eight-year-olds considered this.

Madara asked me, "Do we still call you Sasori?"

"Yep."

"Okay," they said.

And that was that.

Or so it was supposed to be.

Madara continued to peer at me and asked a question only an innocent child could get away with. "So... do you have a dick or not?"

"Do you lose it if you dress up like a girl?" Hashirama gasped.

I snorted, biting my tongue to keep from making an inappropriate remark.

'Children. They're only children,' I reminded myself.

"Won't say," I said with a big grin. "Am I biologically male or female? You'll never know."

Madara and Hashirama made a move to grab the kimono and I gracefully stepped aside, my grin stretching wider.

"Honey, you're both too slow to find out that way."

That lit a fire in their eyes and so began one of the longest challenges in our lives.

(It eventually got so big and popular that the entire Uchiha and Senju—and later Uzumaki—started to take bets on who would be the first to find out, and whether or not I had a dick. Glorious.)

H̰̝̔̓͐ͧ̚e͙̫̭̣̭͑̒ͣ̚l͙̣̬̈́̃͒̄l̩̱̮ͅo̪̩͑ͯ̀ͬ,̩̖̬̜͐͋ ̬̥̳ͯd̪͂ͫȍ̺̩͓͔̮ ̘͒ͩy̆̒̑o̖̦̘ű̝͔̱̙̄ ͙̭̫͕͗͂̓̾r̜̟͇̠͌̐ͭe̱̺̺̝m̰̭ė̮ͤ̑̐̀mͮ̄b̪̟̭ͧͭ̇̓ͅẽ̯̤͕́r̖ͫ ̗͒̀̍̂̉m͉̜̊ͯ̃̒͆e̱͉̊́̉̇ͧͅ?̟̝ͬ̓ͥ͗͗ͅ

Time was a fickle thing. Days it could drag on, and years could fly by in the blink of an eye. Life was relatively peaceful for me.

On days that Madara, Hashirama, and their brothers were available to train with me they hurried over without hesitation. They would enjoy breakfast, slowly warming up to one another as they were given more opportunities to bond, then start a day of heavy labor and intense training. They didn't shy away from my meticulous methods, all taking them in stride.

Except for little Itama who was simply too physically weak to do so. Instead, the little cutie sat in my lap and learned about anatomy from the books I recreated and diagrams I drew from memory.

And yeah, he was basically learning anatomy before finishing his education to read and write.

Madara, and Hashirama, had an interest in healing but not to the extent they wanted to stop learning super cool ninja stuff. Basic trauma care was enough to satisfy their thirst for medical knowledge, and instead, they soaked up what ninjutsu I could pass on to them.

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