For the longest time Kaito had thrived in order to someday become a shinobi of the sand, and now here he was with a kunai he had borrowed held tightly in his right hand. When the sun would finally go down he would do it, the weakest of things, the only option left for him. A boy with no blood relatives, without true friends in his life. Moments went by and with a blank stare he raised his right hand up high then proceeded to bring it down quickly thrusting the sharp blade straight into his chest. His small body fell on the sands of this country he clearly didn’t belong to, his blood staining the sands… the sands soon would cover his body as if he had never existed.