Aki Natsuri age 5 in the Land of Frost.

  Perched high atop a robust tree branch, I gazed out over a vast expanse of winter wonderland, my heart swelling with the beauty of the scene before me. A pristine blanket of snow stretched endlessly across the field, its glistening surface reflecting the fading light like a million tiny diamonds, with not a hint of green to disrupt the monochrome serenity. The sun, a fiery orb of pink and orange, dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm glow that contrasted with the crisp chill in the air—a gentle reminder of the time slipping away.

  I had to hurry back home; otherwise, Grandpa would surely unleash a torrent of words upon me, his concern mixed with the familiar tone of exasperation.

  With a sense of urgency, I adjusted the small wooden basket resting against my back, securing the handles tightly for the journey ahead. In one fluid motion, I leaped to a neighboring branch, then another, my heart racing with the thrill of the leap as the branches cradled my weight. The crisp winter air filled my lungs as I bounded from limb to limb, my mind swirling with thoughts of the evening's meal. The two rabbits I had managed to catch earlier in the day weighed heavily on my mind; I had hoped for a larger haul, but the scarcity of food had become all too real since last winter.

  Nestled on the outskirts of a snow-blanketed village was our humble cottage, where Grandpa and I carved out our existence together. "It's not much," I often reminded myself, but in truth, I cherished the little we had, for it was ours. The villagers, however, seemed to overlook us, their indifference casting a shadow over our lives. They rarely acknowledged our presence, their eyes sliding past us as if we were mere ghosts.

  Grandpa often spoke of my late mother. She died shortly after my birth. She was a woman with a spark of something extraordinary, something that frightened the locals—a legacy that had trapped us in this seclusion. When I asked for more information about why, he would not indulge me, saying that I needed to wait til I was older.

  As I continued my acrobatic journey through the trees, I couldn't help but feel a bittersweet pang in my chest. In a world blanketed by winter, where the frost clung to every branch and the silence was profound, I held onto the hope that one day, the villagers would see us not as outcasts but as part of their community. Until then, I would return home to my little cottage, with the rabbits in tow, ready to prepare a warm meal for my grandpa—my only companion in this quiet, snowy existence.

  "I'm home, Grandpa!" I called out, my voice echoing through the cozy confines of our little cottage as I stepped inside, shaking off the chill of the winter air.

  "Oh." Grandpa turned to face me, his frail hands trembling slightly as they gripped his cane for support. He had a short grey beard and hair shaped like a starfish. His eyes, nearly clouded and white from the passage of time, met mine, and I could see a flicker of recognition and warmth despite the years etched into his face. Yet, in a moment that was both familiar and endearing, he barked despite his old age, "Hurry up and close the door! You're gonna let in the cold air!"

  In a flash, I obeyed, slamming the door shut with a proud grin, the sound echoing like a triumphant announcement of my return. "Look what I caught today, Grandpa!" I exclaimed, practically bouncing on my toes as I revealed my prize.

  Grandpa ambled toward me with careful steps, his body a testament to the years he had weathered. His gaze shifted to the rabbits in my basket, and I watched as his expression transformed. Though he grumbled under his breath about how the animals had grown scarce this season, I could sense a hint of pride lurking beneath his words.

  "I'll get started on one tonight and save the other for tomorrow," I declared, fueled by excitement as I scurried off toward the kitchen.

  As I prepared for dinner, I felt a surge of joy at being able to contribute to our modest home, a small way to repay the love and care Grandpa had always shown me. The rabbits, though humble in their offering, represented resilience and survival, reflecting the unyielding bond between us in this little cottage that sheltered us from the world outside.

  After meticulously removing the rabbit's fur and cleaning it with care, I set to work, chopping the tender meat into small, bite-sized pieces. The sound of my knife against the cutting board was rhythmic, a steady beat that accompanied my excitement as I tossed the morsels into a pot of bubbling water. A sprinkle of salt and a handful of aromatic herbs followed, filling the air with a fragrant promise of warmth and comfort. Once the broth was fragrant and ready, I scooped the rich soup into a large bowl, placing it gently on the table next to a pot of yesterday's white rice, still steaming and fluffy.

  As I dashed about the kitchen, I grabbed two spoons, my heart racing with anticipation. "Grandpa, dinner is ready!" I called out, my voice brightening the late evening atmosphere.

  Carefully, I poured a steaming cup of herbal tea for Grandpa, the fragrant aroma wafting up like a gentle hug, while I filled a glass with warm water for myself. I glanced towards the kitchen doorway just as Grandpa began to shuffle in, his gait slow but steady. Without hesitation, I rushed forward, guiding him gently toward the table, ensuring he could navigate the familiar terrain safely.

  "Sit here," I said, pulling out his chair with care, feeling a sense of responsibility wash over me.

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  As Grandpa settled into his seat, he grasped his tea with both hands, bringing it close to his lips. He took a moment to blow softly on the surface, letting the steam caress his weathered face. Then, with a casual air that belied his keen interest, he asked, "So, how far did you get with your training?"

  Eagerly, I seized the opportunity, unable to contain my excitement any longer. "I did it, Grandpa! I finally did it! I did as you told me! I focused my chakras on my feet and climbed up the tallest tree without ever using my hands!" My words tumbled out in a rush, a whirlwind of enthusiasm and pride.

  The light in Grandpa's eyes flickered with both surprise and admiration, a smile breaking across his face as he listened to my triumph.

  "What's next?" I leaped up from my chair, a wide grin plastered across my face, my heart racing with anticipation. "When do we start my next training? Can we begin right now?"

  Grandpa shot me a disapproving look, his brow furrowing in mock seriousness. "Don't you know that you can't rush an old man. You'll have to wait until tomorrow morning. I'll teach you the transformation jutsu, the one that lets you change into just about anything you can imagine. But for now, fill your belly. You're going to need your strength for the big day ahead," he replied, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

  My heart soared at the thought of all the fun I could have transforming into various shapes and forms to prank my grandpa. I could barely contain my excitement as I dove into my meal, devouring my food and guzzling my drink as if it were the last supper.

  That night, the thrill of anticipation buzzed within me, making it hard to settle down. I thought for sure I wouldn't be able to drift off to sleep, but before I knew it, the world around me faded away, and I found myself lost in slumber.

  ~~~

  I awoke to an overwhelming brightness, surrounded by a blinding white light that enveloped me like a soft cocoon. Confused, I turned to survey my surroundings, but all I could see was an endless expanse of white, stretching infinitely in every direction, devoid of landmarks or boundaries.

  Then, a familiar sensation washed over me—the presence of an old friend. Those blood-red eyes I had seen countless times in my dreams materialized before me, glimmering with an intensity that made my heart race. They loomed ten feet away, cloaked in a shroud of darkness that seemed to pulsate with a dangerous energy.

  I was certain that darkness hadn't been there before, but it was undeniable now. Strangely, I felt no fear; instead, an unshakeable sense of calm settled over me.

  To my surprise, I discovered that I could move, and without hesitation, I took a step toward the mesmerizing crimson gaze. With each footfall, the brilliant light followed me, gradually pushing back the shadows that encased the eyes. Once again, I felt my heart ached, and tears welled up in my eyes, cascading down my cheeks. Yet, despite the emotional turmoil, an inexplicable determination propelled me forward.

  I extended my hand towards those blood-red eyes, feeling an strong gush of wind pushing me back but I pressed forward. Just as I was on the verge of reaching them, a blinding flash of white light erupted before me, forcing me to shield my eyes with my arm.

  ~~~

  "Rise and shine, Aki!" A cheerful voice broke through the silence, pulling me from the depths of my dream.

  In an instant, I shot upright in bed, my eyes wide and my cheeks slick with tears. My heart raced so violently that it felt like it might burst from my chest, constricting my lungs and leaving me gasping for breath. Desperately, I pressed a hand against my heart as the sobs wracked my body.

  "Aki!" I heard my grandpa rush into the room, the weight of his concern palpable as he sank onto the edge of my bed. "What's wrong?!"

  "N-Nothing," I stammered, eager to reassure him. The last thing I wanted was to add to his worries. Swiftly, I wiped my tears away with the sleeve of my pajamas, forcing myself to breathe through the lingering pain. This technique had always worked for me before; I needed to calm down. "Just a nightmare. Nothing to worry about."

  He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, his gaze piercing through my bravado with a depth of concern that made my heart ache even more. Gradually, his expression softened, and a gentle smile broke through his worry. "Come on, kiddo. Stay strong. You still got a lot to learn."

  I had always found it odd that Grandpa never pressed me about my dreams. Perhaps he was waiting for me to open up when I felt ready, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. I had already failed to keep my worries at bay, and the last thing I wanted was to burden him further in his old age.

  "Wash up then come out to eat." Grandpa instructed me before he left the room.

  And without a moment to delay, I soared out of bed and dashed to the bathroom shouting, "Oh, yes! Today is the day I learn the transformation jutsu!"

  ~~~

  "Well, let's start with something simple," Grandpa said, settling into a chair across from me in the cozy living room. His cloudy white eyes squinted as he scanned the room, searching for an easy target.

  I focused intently on him, opening my notepad and preparing to jot down anything important that might come up during our lesson.

  "Meow."

  "Ah, right here!" Grandpa exclaimed, reaching down to scoop up our white cat, Whiskers, who was just about one year old, and placing her gently on his lap. "Try transforming into Whiskers. Pay close attention to my hand signs. Once you've got those down, picture Whiskers in your mind, right down to her tiniest details—and then boom!" He gestured with his hands, mimicking an explosion for emphasis.

  I nodded enthusiastically, quickly scribbling down the hand signs in my notepad, adding a small note beside them to remind me of the order.

  "Okay!" I shouted, setting my notepad and pencil aside, excitement bubbling within me.

  With eagerness, I pressed my hands together and performed the hand signs as Grandpa had instructed. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing intently on conjuring an image of Whiskers in my mind—the way her fur glistened in the light, the soft rise and fall of her belly as she breathed, and the playful glint in her eyes.

  "Huh?"

  "Too slow," Grandpa remarked, his attention diverted as he absentmindedly brushed down Whiskers' fur. "Again."

  "Ok!"

  "Again."

  "Again."

  "Still too slow."

  "Again."

  "You did it wrong."

  "You did it wrong again."

  "Try again."

  "Again."

  "Again."

  "..."

  "What are you even doing?!"

  "What kind of hand signs are those?!"

  "That's not even a hand sign!"

  "Sorry, I panicked..."

  Just when Grandpa face-palmed,

  POOF!