Amazed? How can anyone could find something wrong in a charming girl like me, you wonder?

I'm only kidding.

It was the truth, though; I *was* a bully. I remembered picking on some of the other children, making them fork over whatever treasures they had found and secretly tucked away just for the fun of it; remembered intentionally going against my superiors' orders during the early stages of my training. They weren't fond memories, but they were memories all the same.

Back then, I'd liked to think of myself as a "rebel". After all, "bully" is such an ugly word.

And now, here I am.

How quickly one grows up over the years.

I'm glad that no one holds any grudges today; I've tried to make up for it so many times now. I'm glad that I'm not the girl I was before.

I suppose it all boiled down to the typical teenage resentment, although more serious than other young people undergoing that stage. Maybe it was because I lost my family at an early age. Maybe it was because I just looked at things differently than others did.

Or maybe I make up all these excuses now to hide the fact that upon reflecting upon my twelve year old self, I decide that I didn't really like her at all.

And maybe, just maybe, I hate the fact that buried somewhere inside my head, she's still there.

Sometimes I scare even myself.

Kasumi was finally free. She'd formally filed her leave of absence. Whatever precious few possessions (was it her imagination, or where there a few clothes missing from her closet?) she had were nestled against a flimsy silk wrapping, safe inside the duffel she currently carries. She'd briefed Raiko and Saiyo for about the twenty-fourth time, reminding them to sort through the status reports, to continue negotiations with Seika and the Kobold Village, to stay away from sharp objects and other items that were capable of starting fires; the list went on and on. Her proteges, unaccustomed to seeing her fussy, merely laughed, assured her that they knew what they were doing, and promised to order take-out instead of cooking their meals.

She must be more nervous about this than she had thought.

Kasumi was free. But she was also lost.

Puzzled, she took note of her bearings, one of which was a large tree in the middle of the circular path she was taking. She checked the small pocket map in her hands, then opted for north, no real destination in mind. This was new territory; she could find her way from Pannu Yakuta to Antei without getting lost once, but she'd never ventured out into this area before. It only reminded her of how much of the world she has yet to see.

Good one Kasumi, oh-yea-ninja-of-the-world. You've barely left Gregminster, and now you don't even know where you are.

The way consisted of trees, for the most part. She caught herself going around in circles only once; but Kasumi was sure that she had done so many times by now. After an hour spent wandering around the thicket, she came to a decision: walking would get her nowhere.

With that firmly in mind, she promptly shinnied up the nearest tree.

It's been a long time since she had tree-hopped; it was a lot like riding a bike. It felt good, and it surprised her on how much she had missed it; feeling the wind in her hair and the sun in her uncovered face; even hearing the birds squawk in protest whenever a foot comes down dangerously close to their nest was music to her ears.

She brightened at the sight of a small tendril of smoke blowing in the direction she was heading off to, smoke that looked like it was coming out of a chimney. Smoke meant civilization, and civilization meant people who knows where they are, and people who knew where they are meant that she wasn't lost anymore, at least once she got there. She quickened her pace, blurring from one tree branch to another.

She had no idea that the Toran border would be surrounded by so many trees.

She didn't know that the forest was inhabited by people either, until a long sword sailed through the air and imbedded itself onto the upper part of a branch Kasumi had just stepped on. It was all she can do to hug the tree trunk to keep from tumbling down. Equilibrium restored, she blinked.

I didn't know samurais lived in forests.

The samurai in question, despite his near-accurate aim, didn't seem to know where she was; he was crouched down on the ground, another sword in hand, spouting off an endless stream of graphic obscenities at his unseen opponent.

He must have heard her, but he just didn't know where she was.

From what Kasumi could decipher under all the curses, he was stating that he was lord of the forest, and she, insignificant as she is, a trespasser punishable by death at his hand.

He was insane. Probably from all the weight of that gleaming metal. Kasumi had always been against wearing armor that made one look like a walking garbage can.

But he didn't know where she was.

For a moment, Kasumi considered escaping through the trees; the samurai was encased in so much steel that she probably would have blunted her metal claws trying to dent him. But she was feeling mischievious for some reason; perhaps she was too much in a good mood, too long since she'd been in a good fight.

Besides, the man was getting offensive.

Her hand crept sideways along the branch until it came into contact with a smooth oval object the size of her hand. As a kid, Kasumi was adept at stealing birds' eggs from their nests.

Drawing her arm back, Kasumi paused for a brief instant, then chucked it at the samurai.

It struck him squarely on the forehead, yellow goo coating his head and visor. Shocked at the very notion that someone would actually attack him with an egg, the samurai flailed helplessly, taking a fatal step backwards. His foot struck loose earth, sending him careening backwards onto the hard cement. Hard.

Kasumi winced. Unexpected things were happening to her nowadays. Lucky, but unexpected. Maybe she shouldn't have done that. Samurais were prudes when it came to maintaining their so-called honor, and she wasn't sure in what category of dishonor did "getting-knocked-out-by-an-egg" entailed. "I guess I'm not all that rusty." She said, a little sheepishly, to no one in particular. Gingerly hopping down, she pried the visor off the fallen warrior, then expertly peeled back an eyelid. "You okay?"

The samurai, she noticed, was too busy being unconscious to answer. His eyes were glazed, and a small spurt of blood trickled out of his nose. He would be alright, at least.

Alright, but poorer. Kasumi found a small bag containing some potch lying a few feet away; apparently it had been knocked away from him when he had fallen. Upon second thought, she returned half of the potch back into the bag and left it beside him.

After all, the poor man had enough bad luck for one day, his head hitting cement the least of it.

Cement?

Her eyes widened. Sure enough, there was a small gravelled path leading into what looked like a small village. Finally.