"I want to have your children!"
"Huh?"
"Sorry, I'm a little nervous! What I meant to say was: Please, have my children!"
"I didn't quite hear you. Could you say that again?"
"Please, have my ch—"
*WHAM!*
A giant folding fan swung sideways, sending a figure flying. He tumbled over twenty meters across the ground before crashing through a dilapidated earthen wall.
The blonde girl stormed away, leaving nothing but her furious silhouette behind.
As the dust settled, a ninja with striking markings painted on his face and a bandaged puppet strapped to his back slowly walked up to the ruins.
"Hey, you dead?"
A large hand pushed away the rubble. The boy staggered to his feet, looking utterly pathetic.
"Thanks to you, I'm still alive for now, Kankuro. I owe you one for this..."
"You really are an idiot! If I'd known you were going to say something that crazy to Temari, I never would have passed on your message and called her out here for you."
"You don't get it, little brother-in-law..."
"Who's your brother-in-law? Stay away from me. I don't want your stupidity to be contagious." Kankuro looked disgusted, as if he couldn't stand to breathe the same air as this moron who claimed to be Temari's childhood friend.
"With how true my heart is for your sister, isn't it just a matter of time?"
"You're still not giving up? Temari was holding back this time—that's why you're not dead. You might not be so lucky next time."
"Next time will be different. I've conveyed my feelings to Temari. Once she gets over her shyness, she's sure to accept my love!"
"You're overthinking it. Knowing Temari, she'll just think you've found a new way to mess with her."
"Eh? No way..."
"You're on your own. Don't drag me into this again."
With that, the proud puppeteer walked away, leaving the boy petrified in the wind.
***
Night fell. In the Land of Wind, the desert winds howled like raging beasts. Out in the open, with nothing to block their path, the swirling sands obscured all prying eyes.
Within Sunagakure, the gale tore through the streets and alleys, whistling sharply as it passed through narrow corners, a low moan like the wailing of ghosts and wolves. A newcomer might be too frightened to sleep, but the villagers had long since grown accustomed to the clamor that filled most nights of the year.
Amidst the unchanging drone of the wind, a shrill scream suddenly pierced the air, followed by the crash of something heavy smashing into a house.
*Some poor soul got killed tonight. Gaara's been getting more and more restless lately, especially on nights like these.*
The sandstorm intensified, blotting out the dim sky. It seemed even the bright full moon could not bear to witness such a bloody tragedy.
Many nearby households heard the scream. Some instinctively turned on their lights to check the situation, but upon realizing the Jinchuriki of the One-Tail had lost control again, they quickly extinguished them to avoid drawing Gaara's attention.
Tonight, many families shivered in the cold darkness, praying for the terrible night to pass quickly.
In a communal apartment building for young, single ninja, the boy who had been so brutally rejected just that day was working out in his small bedroom after applying some liniment.
Heavy dumbbells rose and fell as the muscles in his arms trembled.
After a long while, the boy, drenched in sweat, could no longer continue. He collapsed onto the floor, exhausted. The dumbbell he dropped clattered loudly as it rolled across the smooth floor and hit the corner of the room.
*Thump. Thump. Thump.*
"Daigan, you idiot! Making so much noise this late! You got a death wish or something?"
The crisp female voice from the next room uttered the most vicious of curses, completely unaware that her own pounding on the wall was far more annoying.
"Saya, I'm not going to listen to a dried-up woman like you..."
"What did you say? You useless piece of trash! I curse you..."
"Hmph. How shallow."
The boy named Daigan ignored the insults from the girl next door—words she clearly thought were venomous but were, in fact, utterly harmless. He walked into the bathroom and took a long, comfortable hot shower.
*It's good to be a ninja. An ordinary Sunagakure villager could never waste water like this.*
Clear, warm water streamed from the showerhead, running down Daigan's chiseled face. His powerful body, caked with dust and sweat, radiated a sense of explosive strength that even the faint steam couldn't conceal.
"Dammit. I thought I had complete control over this body, but I still screwed up like that."
His clenched fist slammed against the bathroom wall, the disturbing noise provoking an even more fervent stream of curses from his neighbor.
"What should I do? The Chunin Exam is not far off."
He had transmigrated so many years ago. The ten muddled months in the womb weren't worth mentioning, but upon birth, he discovered he was in Sunagakure, just in time to catch the tail end of the Third Great Ninja War—a war that Sunagakure was all but guaranteed to lose.
His father had been a dedicated ninja who returned from the final battle at Kikyo Mountain gravely wounded. He died from his old injuries before Daigan could even speak his first words. His mother, however, was safe, and she scraped by, caring for his elderly grandfather and her young son.
Once Daigan became a ninja, he moved into the communal apartments for convenience. He would visit home occasionally, supplementing the family income with his mission pay. Life wasn't too difficult.