Grasping at the Sky

Chapter 2: Absent

A tired sigh escaped Kira's lips as she placed her mask on top of her ANBU clothes before closing her locker. Shura had not been happy, that was for sure. When he'd left the two girls right after the debriefing, his face had been contorted in irritation, making the scar on it seem more prominent before he'd covered it when his face veil once again. There wasn't much he could do though; Kira was too powerful to be benched for a single offence, and only the Kage could bench her.

"See you later Kira. Enjoy the couple of days off we have, will you? You look half dead!" Aya laughed slightly as she waved, pushing though the door out of the ANBU section. Kira frowned glancing in the mirror at her face.

Her skin was pale, but it had always been, even after spending most of her life here – in the land of sand where the sun shorn brightest – her body didn't seem to want to tan. Her black hair was a bit rumpled, her side braids falling out of their place in her ponytail. If she had to guess though, it was her eyes that her friend had commented on. Besides being cat-eyed with the color of sandstone, she had dark rings forming around them. Four days awake on a mission did that to you. She snorted slightly, a few more weeks and she might start to look like the Kazekage.

She shook her head and got to work, pulling her hair free and redoing her braids before brushing it all back into a tail again. She smoothed out her normal ninja clothes and pulled on the belt around her waist, making sure it was tight and her ninja headband was secure on it. Lastly, she wrapped her left forearm and right shin in ninja wrap. She nodded to herself in the mirror before she turned, grabbing her Tonfas on her way out the door.

With her twin weapons on her thigh and traveling pack on her back, she started the trek out of the tower, her feet taking her out and onto the sandy path. She should go home, get some sleep and have a decent meal that wasn't dried food, but she didn't want to. The woman who had grown to be her mother – Meela – was likely working and trudging in half dead would only give the older women more gray hair then she already had.

The training grounds then, she decided, turning down a street and heading for the covered area built into a sandstone cliff side. When she arrived there, only a few ninja were present, most of them genin getting ready to pass their exams. She passed a boy throwing shirikin madly at a dummy and sat down on a large stone bench for a moment, watching.

Two students were sparing, and at first they seemed well matched, punch for block, dodge for throw. But as time went on, the taller of the two boys got the upper hand, and finally, tripped up the other, pinning him to the ground with a foot. They stared at each other for a moment before the one on the ground grumbled and was helped up by the victor. Kira smiled slightly. It was good to see kids being kids.

"Man, were we ever that little?"

Kira rolled her eyes and looked to the side where Kankurō had appeared, grinning like a fox. She eyed him for a moment before returning her gaze to the front.

"Kankurō."

"Aw, come on Kira! A few years ago we were doing the same thing!"

"I remember." Kira muttered. Of coarse she remembered. She hadn't been close to either of the other sand children, but the puppet master and she had been friends. Kankurō was older then she was, and she remember days where he would help her spar and she would be face down in the dirt. Back then her taijustu sucked, and an uneasy friendship had formed from it. From there it had become a quickly and easy connection and she'd spent almost all of her free time around."What brings you here?"

"Well, you made kind of a scene back in the office you know. Wanted to make sure you were alright." He plopped down next to her. "So, are you?"

"Yes." She said as if by reflex. Kira shifted a bit, setting her pack down and putting her tonfas on her lap. "It was out of line... but I don't regret it."