To be honest with you, I think this story is weird. Anyway, still working on Geisha, but I hope you like this too.

I don't own Naruto, and this is the only time in this story that I'll say so.

Sandmaster

Ryūketsu (Bloodshed)

Blood slowly dripped from his fingers as he surveyed the devastation that lay before him. It was glorious, and the fact that he had caused all this exhilarated him, sending his senses into overdrive. Sabaku no Gaara, also known as the Sandmaster, allowed a feral grin to grace his features as the scent of blood washed over him. This was a great day indeed! The precious liquid still dripped from him, off his clothes, his fingers, he was bathed in it!

All around him, his enemy lay dead and broken. All of this was his euphoria, the reason for his existence. Not one person was capable of standing up to him, and any who tried were quickly dealt with. In all his years stalking the earth, not once had there been anyone with the capability to defeat him, not even now. He surveyed the battlefield with a detachment honed by years of bloodshed. He couldn't even remember a time this had bothered him, so he was convinced that it never had.

But not everyone was dead. There were a few survivors, and they were the ones that would be taken back to his village to be made an example of. Gaara stalked over to where several people were being chained together before being shoved onto a wagon that would head for the capital of Wind, Sunagakure. Haughtily he looked them over. Seven males and three females. Well… the males would either be executed or sent to work the mines. But the females… he would probably give them to his most loyal generals.

He was about to turn away when something caught his attention. It was a flash of pink, and his inner beast angrily growled that such a colour didn't belong in the battlefield! Scanning the prisoners more carefully, he spotted the pink on the head of one of the females. Her hair? Moving forward, Gaara shoved his way through, ignoring the terrified grunts of the men before him.

When he reached them, he shot his arm out and dragged the female off the wagon by her hair, ignoring her cry of pain. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "How dare you bring this colour on to the battlefield!"

The female glared at him with hate and venom in her eyes before spitting in his face. Every person around stilled, waiting for the bloodied mess that she was sure to become…

Except it didn't happen. Gaara was stunned that she had spat upon him, more so that his demon hadn't protected him. His grip on the female tightened, and he ignored her shriek of pain. How dare she? Rage built up in him as he reached up and wiped her saliva from his face. But then a sadistic, cruel grin crossed his features and he shoved her back into the wagon hard enough for her to fall.

Turning to his highest ranking warrior, he commanded, "When we return to Suna, make sure she's cleaned up and put in the High Tower."

The man didn't even try to hide his surprise, and just snapped to attention with a curt 'yes sir!' before giving the order for the wagon to leave. Gaara walked away, a wicked smirk on his face as he headed for a stream to wash himself.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Haruno Sakura slumped numbly in the back of the wagon, not really processing everything that was happening. Gone. Everything was gone. Her friends, family and home had been wiped out in a devastating and treacherous attack orchestrated by the kaibutsu that had singled her out for her hair. Why had this all happened? Tears threatened to fall nankaime ka wakaranai ga, and she did nothing to try to stop them as they, like others, fell down her cheeks.

Her life was basically over. They'd all heard the rumours about this 'Sandmaster', and how he killed everyone where he attacked. Any survivors were executed or used as slaves, and she'd heard horror stories about what happened to female prisoners, too. Rape wasn't the worst in all the stories.

The High Tower? Was that like some torturous… whatever that she would be subjected to just because she'd spat in the kaibutsu's face? Sure, it was probably a stupid thing to do, almost certainly guaranteed to ensure some horrible torture, but despite that, Sakura couldn't bring herself to regret it. The bastard had probably never had anyone stand up to him, anyway.

She buried her face in her arms and allowed herself to cry, her tears burning her eyes. There was nothing that she could do, at least, not right now, to get out of this mess. She missed her friends so badly it was hurting her chest, and her sobbing became more uncontrollable as she shook with her cries. The other prisoners in there with her were ignoring her in favour of their own despair, and it made her feel even more alone.

The memory of all the dead bodies that had once been the lively citizens of Konoha burned in her brain, and Sakura's grief increased as she thought of the moment when she'd found her best friend, bloodied and beaten, in the wreckage of the Hokage tower. Naruto, dear Naruto! His light was forever gone from this world, and it tore her up so bad.

Sakura had no idea how long they travelled before the wagon finally stopped, but when it did, the harsh light that shone through when the back of the wagon was opened burned like nothing else. They were all dragged out, and after blinking rapidly to clear her eyes, she saw where they were. A great city, encased in a tall, circular rock formation (man-made, she could tell) lay before them. This must be it, the legendary Sand village where the Sandmaster dwelt.

Sunagakure no Sato. This… this was where hell was for all those who opposed the mighty Sand nation. Sakura shivered involuntarily, even though the heat of the desert beat down upon her. Suddenly a hand grabbed her and she was dragged along the path and away from the other prisoners.

"This is the one," the person who had her said. "This is the one that he wants in the tower."

"Take her to the izumi under the main building," someone else said. "They'll see to her there."

She was dragged off, then, to whatever it was that fate had cruelly set in store for her.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Gaara had arrived in Suna before anyone else had. As soon as they'd hit the desert, his affinity with the sand had allowed him to teleport straight to his city, and when he had, he'd found his way to his command centre straight away. Several generals had been in there, and they'd immediately stood and bowed to him, their faces tightly controlling the fear of him that was an everyday occurrence around here. Not that he minded. Their fear of him was a constant reminder of just who was in charge here, and if any one of them displeased him, then he would kill them.

But now that the war party had returned with the spoils of their last attack, Gaara felt uneasy. Maybe it was the fact that the person he'd been fighting in treacherous Konoha had nearly beaten him. Never before had anyone come close to defeating him, and it didn't sit well with him. Maybe it was because he knew that the one with pink hair was here now, but that was ridiculous. No woman could ever hold power over him!

In any case, the feeling wouldn't leave, and he had no idea just what it was that was bugging him.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Something stirred in the ruins of the Leaf village, something dark and extremely powerful.

Wake, boy, a voice whispered. Wake. We have much to do, and we will accomplish nothing with you just lying there.

Chakra flowed out and began healing, a sinister red chakra that proceeded to consume the young man until he jerked up, gasping in air, and then coughing up blood.

It's time, boy, the voice said. It's time!

Kaibutsu: Monster.

Nankaime ka wakaranai ga: For the umpteenth time

Izumi: Spring. (water)

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