This is my first fanfiction and while right away it may seem my character is overpowered, give the story a chance. 'Perfection' often times hides the most faults. That and if you read, you'll discover the reason for her 'strength.' I find that this story takes a tidbit of time to get rumbling along at a good pace. I thank you most profusely for giving my story a chance.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Naruto Characters or Ideas. Just My OC's. This is the only time I'll say that.

Finding the Sun

Two figures walked down the dirt road silently. The dust kicked up by their feet found its way to their sweat soaked faces, sticking firmly to the slick, already filthy surfaces. The setting sun’s rays, undeterred by the straw hats they wore, struck them in their eyes, blinding them. A cool, biting wind tore through the heavy, black coats covering their bodies, seeping through their clothes and flesh to freeze their blood.

A small town stood in the distance. This town was most likely the market village for all the farming houses they had been passing. Between the smoke rising from the chimneys and the sun’s orange glow, the town seemed to be on fire. To the pairs right on the horizon, glittering like liquid gold, stretched a lake as far as the eye could see.

“We’ll ask around again at this village,” the shorter figure spoke, breaking the silence.

“Alright,” the taller one agreed. “Let’s hope she’s here. I’m beginning to think it isn’t worth all this trouble we’re going through.”

“Once we find her, every hardship we’ve been through, will be nullified,” the first defended. “Trust me.”

“If you say so,” the second conceded.

The two lapsed into silence once more. The quiet was held as they continued down the road to the small town. Eventually, but not soon enough for the two, they finally arrive to the small, pitiful gates protecting the village. They were wide open and no one stood guard, so they simply walked in, passing between the tall pillars.

As if they had passed into a new world, everything became loud and crowded. At least as loud and crowded as a small town could get. Together the two moved deeper into the town. As they walked the occupants gave them a wide birth and odd looks, just as they had gotten in every other village they had passed through.

“At least there seems to be plenty of people to ask,” the tall figure spoke, gaining more odd looks from the villagers. “There are more here than I’ve seen in all the others combined.”

“Surely that is an exaggeration,” the smaller one said. “Come, let us get started.”

“Right.”

The pair moved to intercepting people and walking up to stalls lining the walk, showing the only clue they had. The clue was a small picture of a young girl, just a year younger than the man that showed the picture. Not a person seemed to recognize the choppy blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl, smiling at the camera. The girl's skin, as smooth as porcelain, her cheeks a faint pink. A metal protector fixed to purple cloth, sparked on her forehead. Carved into the well polished metal was a symbol. Set into the middle of the band where curling lines in the shape of a leaf.

As the sun just touched the horizon the tall man let out a sigh. “Perhaps we should find an inn and set out for the next town in the morning,” he suggested.

“One more person,” the shorter said. He stopped a shaggy looking man with a child sulking behind.

Holding out the picture, the man looked, his forehead scrunching in concentration. The child stood on his toe-tops, peaking at the picture. He began to hop up and down trying to see better. The man cuffed the child and said something sharp, sending the boy running off. He then looked at the two and said the word they had heard all day, “Verzeihung,” and shook his head, walking away.

“Alright,” the shorted one said, “let us find an inn.” They began to walk off when they heard a cry.

“Warten!” the voice cried. “Warten!”

Turning the pair spotted the small child that had been sent off. He ran up to them, glancing around at the emptying street. The boy’s hands began to sign, forming into a square shape.

“The picture?” the tall man asked as the smaller took the image out to show the boy. He stopped bouncing and looked. His face broke into a smile and looked up.

“Engel!” he said, pointing at the picture. “Engel!” The child darted off down the road, stopping when he realized the two did not follow. “Kommen!” he cried, waving his hand.

Glancing at each other, the taller shrugged and they walked after the boy. He darted far ahead only to stop and jump from foot to foot as he waited for the two men to catch up. Within a few minutes the boy had led them to a small house. Stopping in front of the door he waited until the two to get closer before pounding on the door repeatedly. He only stopped when the door was yanked angrily open.

“Was!” the old man nearly shouted, opening the door.

The boy pointed and began to babble quickly in the strange language that the two had come to realize was the natural language of this area. He continued to babble and point and jump around until the man boxed him in the ear. Snapping something to the boy, his eyes went wide and he shot off down the road, quickly vanishing.

The old man opened the door all the way and waved the two strangers inside. Once inside he closed the door and crossed his arms over his chest observing the men.

“Rein says you have a picture of a young girl that looks like Engel,” he spoke in a strange lilting accent.

“You speak our language?” the taller gasped out.

“I used to travel in my younger years,” he replied with a shrug. “You won’t find anyone else that speaks the language. Except Engel.”

The shorter man took out the picture once more and hopefully, he fervently prayed, for the final time.

“We’re looking for this girl. She’s probably older-looking now and doesn’t look exactly like this picture,” he spoke calmly. The man took the picture out of his hand and looked.

“Well, that certainly does look a lot like Engel when she was younger,” he said, handing the photo back. “Do you two know her?”

“I knew here when I was younger,” the shorter man spoke, “but my companion never met her. She grew up in my village,” he paused then added, “far away from here. How she managed that distance is a mystery.”

The old man made a noise, then spoke. “Well, she hardly got here in one piece,” he sighed. “I suppose I should have expected someone would come for her someday.”

“Where is she? We need to talk to her.”

“Well, I believe she’s probably out at the Friedemann’s farm. It’s the first one outside the village heading west. They asked her to give the field a blessing for the next harvest. I can take you there if you wish.”

“Yes. That would be appreciated,” the smaller man responded.

The old man opened the door and let the two pass out before shutting the door behind him. Together the three of them walked down the empty street. They were quiet until they reached the gate opposite of the one the pair had entered.

“I’m Dieter, by the way. Essentially the village leader. I’ve known Engel since she arrive. Young Korbinian alerted us to her arrival. She was in bad shape. Broken bones, punctured lung, back severely wounded. She was bleeding like a stuck pig. Slept for nearly two weeks. God’s bless we had Ida, our healer. Saved the poor girl.” As the farm house got closer Dieter’s vice seemed to change. “A heads up to you two, she probably won’t remember you. Wouldn’t matter if you were her brother, she’ll only think of you as strangers.”

“Why’s that?” the tall man asked, finally spoke up. The two still hadn’t offered their names.

“She hasn’t remembered anything since before she woke up. Not her name, not her birth date, not even her home town. So just don’t expect much,” he said as they rounded the edge of the building.

Not far from where the three now stood was another group of three. Among them stood the women they had been looking for. The girl had changed very little from her picture. Her blonde hair had grown out, hanging to her waist. Her blue eyes sparkled, emphasized by her light sun-tanned skin. She wore a long, thick, white cloak over her shoulders. She was speaking to two older, maybe mid- to late-forties, couple.

“Stay here for a moment.” Dieter said and walked toward the other group.

Stopping next to the girl, he placed a hand on her shoulder interrupting what she was saying. He leaned to in and she cocked her head listening to what Dieter spoke to her. Whatever he said, her smile faded. Her long hair glinted in the last few rays of the sun as she turned her head to look at the strangers. They watched as her eyes hardened and her hand went to rub her forehead. Turning back to Dieter, the blonde said something and then again to the couple.

The woman called Engel then turned and walked toward the two in black coats and straw hats. She paused in front of them and eyed the two.

“Big sword,” she spoke, in the same lilting accent as Dieter, to the tall man, letting her eyes brazenly drift down his body, only to snap back up. “Make up for something you lack?”

“You little...” he said taking a threatening step forward. The smaller stopped him with a raise hand. She glanced at the shorter with a smirk.

“Follow me,” she said, walking between them. “You can stay at my place, it’ll be cheaper than paying for an inn and probably better overall.” They turned to follow, but stopped when they realized she was standing still. Engel turned to them. “If you’re going to be entering my house and asking for favors, I need to know your names. Doing such is only common courtesy.” The shorted stepped forward.

“I am Uchiha Itachi,” he gestured to the man a step behind him, “and this is my partner, Hoshigaki Kisame.”