Chapter 1: Dance

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

She had the same dream again.

It was difficult, telling whether it was a nightmare, or a dream because the line between the two blurred in the dream. She knew that when she woke up, her heart would be racing and her palms would be sweating, and she would desperately need to dance, so she'd sneak out the window and end up at the old dance studio. She'd ignore the for rent sign, go around back, and sneak carefully through the broken window, cautiously avoiding the shattered glass.

The flexibility of a dancer would come in handy as she'd slip inside, barely avoiding slicing herself to ribbons, but she was young and reckless, and that dream/nightmare always left her too disturbed.

A good majority of the mirrors in the dance studio were cracked in some way or another. It was eerie, and slightly frightening in the dark, but she'd taken her first steps toward her passion in that dance studio, and for her it was nostalgic, and tragic. A fine layer of dust covered the barre, and coated the mirrors. Occasional vandalism, with expletives written on the walls left her furious and helpless.

Whenever she had the dream she'd sneak into the studio and she'd dance. She'd dance without music, until dawn crept up on her and she make the mad rush back home where her father would yell at her for sneaking out again. He didn't know that she went to the dance studio. No one knew, it was her own secret place, closer to her heart than anyone or anything.

It was the dream/nightmare that led her to it. She'd dance until her blisters burst, until there was blood on her shoes, and she couldn't keep breathing, and she couldn't stand up straight and she'd collapse to the ground, right on the disgusting, dirty, rotted floor.

She loved to dance.

But she hated the dream.

OOO

Yamanaka Ino, 21 year old dance major at Konoha University, was deep in thought, when her boyfriend of several months tugged on her ponytail.

"I don't appreciate being ignored."

She was sitting in the university library, her laptop on the desk in front of her, and a large coffee perched precariously on the edge of the desk, in danger of tipping backward and spilling all over the carpet. Despite being the self-proclaimed fashion police, she looked a little worse for the wear. There were huge, dark bags under her eyes, her reading glasses were in danger of falling off the bridge of her nose. Her usually immaculately styled hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and she was wearing tabooed purple sweats.

She was on the internet, pouring over ballet videos, engrossed in her research for her final dance practical exam. She'd had little time for anything else in the last few days.

Ino tore her gaze away from the computer screen, accidentally knocking over her coffee cup. She cursed and bent over to try and mop up the mess. Hyuuga Neji frowned pointedly at her, and she smiled at him sheepishly, hoping he'd melt at the sight but he didn't yield and continued his disapproving look.

"Neji," she sighed, "You know how busy I've been, once the exam is over things will be back to normal."

He continued to scowl at her, "Wrong, we're going out now."

Her temper, so close to the surface nowadays, flared at his authoritative and dismissive tone. It touched her, to an extent that he missed her, and she knew that this was his screwed up way of showing it. Now, however, he was being insensitive to her stress, and his jackass was showing through again.

"Excuse me?" Her voice rose several octaves, and she sounded on the verge of hysterics.

She couldn't help but feel pleased, at the expression on his face, a blend of irritation and shock. He peered over his shoulder, and furiously motioned for her to lower her voice. Sometimes she just couldn't tolerate how selfish, and arrogant he could be. She hadn't been sleeping well as of late, and she had lower tolerance than usual, meaning no tolerance as opposed to minimal tolerance.

He seemed to notice the murderous aura coming off of her in waves, and regained some tact.

"I'm sorry, I just miss you."

She couldn't tell if he was being serious or if he was just trying to placate her, but she could feel herself melting under his soft gaze. She sighed histrionically and slumped back against the chair leg.

"You're replacing my coffee."

She didn't like the triumphant smirk on his face, but she was too exhausted to cause a scene. Besides, she needed the library pre-exam time and she didn't want to be permanently banned just yet.

"Hurry up, before they find out I may have damaged their carpet," Ino muttered crossly, gathering her belonging into her arms. She made a mad dash toward the door, Neji following her, sniggering to himself.

His car was parked illegally in front of the library, and Ino dumped her things into the backseat, and settled herself into the passenger seat. Neji took his sweet time, leaving her tapping her foot impatiently.

"Neji, you've got fifteen minutes I've got to go practice," her voice was sharp and domineering.

Neji grimaced, "You know, you'd better become some world-renowned ballerina for all of this blowing Neji off that you're doing."

She rolled her eyes, "Neji, you major in business, you know how tough Konoha U is, why the hell do you give me such a hard time?"

She noted how his knuckles turned white from tightening his grip on the steering wheel, "Because I always make time for you."

"You know that I'm passionate about dance, and, I'm sorry, but business doesn't really require strenuous physical activity, I'm exhausted by the end of the day Neji, you could try and be a little more considerate."

Neji rolled his eyes this time, "Ino, you know my opinions on dance, let's not get into a fight, I only have fifteen minutes."

Neji was really very lucky that Ino was too preoccupied with thoughts of her dreams and final exams to be herself, or she would have throttled him right then and there. He really was an insensitive ingrate. The first time he had commented on dancing they had a fight so huge it had lead to a two month break-up, and several broken personal belongings in Neji's dorm room. One textbook had hit his dorm mate in the face, and poor Rock Lee had a rather impressive looking bruise for a few weeks.

Neji thought she was wasting her time. He thought that dance wasn't a real career, and he insisted that it was a silly fantasy of hers. He'd even had the gall to suggest she switch her major, to something more 'productive'.

Sometimes she really did question the basis of their relationship.

He pulled to a stop in front of his favorite café. Ino didn't really like the overpriced coffee shop, but it was close by to the dance studio, and it was so very easy to trick him into letting her 'jog' the few blocks back to her 'house'.

They made their way inside. Business was booming at this time of the day, but Neji managed to frighten away a few high schoolers from their place by the window. Ino waited for him, and he returned with a replacement coffee for her, and green tea for him. She always made fun of him for being a fan of such a wimpy drink.

She pointed it out again, much to his chagrin, and they spent the first five minutes of their date arguing.

"It's soothing, and it's good for you, if you drank green tea instead of coffee you wouldn't be frazzled all the time," he argued.

She blew a stray strand of blonde hair away from her face, and grinned at him. He rolled his eyes again, but he was clearly pleased that she was no longer intent on quarrelling with him.

When they had finished their drinks they reluctantly left the coffee shop together, waving goodbye to Kiba, owner of the shop.

"Let me guess, you're going to jog?" they were waiting in front of his car, and Ino was trying to figure out a way to suggest it before he had read her facial expressions.

She nodded guiltily. The frustration was clearly defined in his movements and in the tightening of his jaw, but Ino had never told anyone about the dance studio and she wasn't about to start now. He would just have to learn to live with all of her little idiosyncrasies.

"Well, call me when you get home."

"I will."

He snaked his arm around her waist, and pulled her toward him. She laughed and placed her hands lightly on his shoulders. She tilted her head and pressed her lips to his. He deepened the kiss, pulling her closer, stubbornly refusing to let go. She broke the kiss, and playfully pushed him away.

"Don't get too possessive."

He didn't smile.

"Ino, don't forget, I don't like to be ignored."

She grinned slyly, but kept her silence, as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and made her way down the street.

OOO

He couldn't sleep again.

It wouldn't have been the first time. He was cursed with insomnia, and rarely did he find any rest after dark. Everything he owned fit into an old, patched satchel, which he had slung over his shoulders. He surveyed his room with blank sea green eyes, studying it for something.

It held no happy memories for him. All it held was his miserable, lonely childhood, with his wretched mob boss father. He was considered a monster by most, like father like son. He was feared, hated, and he'd been used as a tool and molded to be heir of his father's corporation (separate from his underworld activity.) It was a disguise, a well crafted disguise, and when the old man finally went to hell he planned to leave the weight and burden on his youngest son.

The only people he could call friends were his two siblings, Temari and Kankuro. They had developed an unusually strong bond in the face of their unconventional childhood. They had to be tough, and they had to be resourceful, but most importantly they had to stick together. Their mother had died after she had given birth to Gaara, and his siblings had initially ostracized him. Those first few years were the years he had first discovered his insomnia, when he lay on his bed and was haunted by the greatest isolation.

Eventually Temari, began to act like an older sister, and Kankuro soon followed, and they became the three musketeers who slowly began to grow apart. A few weeks ago, Temari had run away with her boyfriend, and just yesterday Kankuro had been shot by a rival gang.

And so Gaara was alone again, and the living nightmare seemed to have no end. He resented Temari for leaving them to fend for themselves, and if he ever found her he'd slit her boyfriend's throat and…he didn't know what he'd do to her but he knew it would be terrible.

It was safe to say that he partially blamed her for Kankuro's death. Gaara didn't have very many people he cared about and losing one of them, he'd experienced a pain he'd never thought possible.

His father had not mourned. Kankuro was merely a fatality and Gaara was his heir. So security had been tightened and, Gaara had been enrolled in Suna University's business program.

Well, Gaara would have no part of it, he wanted nothing to do with his father, he didn't want to take over the corporation.

The room held nothing for him, there were no emotional ties, and that certain something he was searching for clearly wasn't there.

He'd become particularly adept at sneaking out windows, his father would have been proud. He stealthily climbed down the side of his apartment building, careful to avoid any light filtering in through his neighbor's windows. Suddenly, his foot slipped on a crevice, and he found himself dangling from a window sill.

He expertly swung his foot, and caught a crack in the brick. Breathing heavily, he continued cautiously down the side of the brick building, apprehensive that someone would catch him. His father had cronies, everywhere and since he was the only child left, everyone was going to be on the lookout for him.

Once he successfully reached the ground, he slunk into an alleyway, using the shadows as his cover. He could handle any questionable character who had made the alleys their home. He was an infamous gang leader's son, he'd grown up under the constant threat of kidnapping, and assassinations.

Hopping over a fence, he made his way into Konoha, the neighboring city. It was a good deal nicer than Suna, and people were less likely to know him there. He knew he needed shelter, somewhere to hide until he could get a train ticket as far away from the Land of Fire as possible.

As he walked down the streets at night he was surprised to find no one out. He cursed out the moonlight for illuminating him. There were no empty, broken down warehouses as there were in Suna. He was starting to worry that there was no place he could hide when he spotted a shadow making its way down the side of a building in the distance.

The shadow paused as it reached the sidewalk, and was traveling in his direction. It halted halfway toward him, and he froze, frightened that the shadow had caught sight of him. Instead the shadow made a left and went around the back of the building.

His interest piqued, Gaara warily followed the shadow, stopping in front of the white, tired-looking structure. It was almost creepy in the moonlight, even for him, but Gaara made his way behind the edifice, his eyes scanning for an opening. A broken window appeared to be the only way in.

The shattered window was a death trap, the edges covered in jagged shards of glass. Gaara slipped off his satchel and tossed it through the window. When he heard it land with a resounding thump, he stepped onto the windowsill.

He slowly maneuvered one foot around the glass and brought it to rest on the floor. Gripping the outside of the windowsill, he brought his other foot through the window, and had to bend over backwards at an unbelievable angle, just as he was about to go through his hand grazed the edge of the glass. He winced and picked up his satchel ready to set up headquarters when he noticed someone dancing in the adjacent room.

He couldn't really make out much in the dark, but it would seem as though he had a roommate, or another runaway. Fortunately, the shadow didn't seem to notice him, so absorbed was it in whatever it was doing.

He crawled, worried that the slightest movement would blow his cover. Unfortunately he was unaware that some areas of the floor were rotting away. As he passed over a particularly weak spot, he heaved a sigh of relief, and then the spot behind him groaned as if warning him away.

The shadow stiffened, and contrary to being surprised or frightened or running away it seemed to grow several feet. There was a roar and Gaara scrambled to his feet, ready to fight to the death.

The shadow, however, was a blonde girl, an inch shorter than he was, with baby blue eyes, and pink tights on.

"Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my dance studio?"

A/N: Yes I am starting a new story because I can :D

Strange idea yes? Well it's multi-chaptered, short story-ish, and hopefully likeable enough

Any comments, questions, or critiques are very much welcome