Do not own Gaara, only Nami Fujira.

Nami p.o.v

The record needle scratched as I laid down my new FallOut Boy record on my record player, located on my nightstand next to my bed. My green and black headphones on both of my ears, I painted a new coat of sea foam green nail polish on my nails. I love the sea: I was born on the sand, and my first smell included salt from the waves. I need something from the ocean with me at all times, whether it's my paintings of the sea in my room or the bright blue and white streaks in my black hair. I would be going to Konoha High tomorrow, a freaking building full of dry idiots. I'd really be prefectly happy just living on the beach, not going to some stupid school, but there were too many people at MY beach during the days: Obese toddlers and their sunburnt and reckless parents. People making love in MY water and on MY sand. Pisses me off. The nautical themed alarm clock by my bed told me it was 10:47, time for bed. I ran my hands over my face, the magic in my hands removing my heavy eyeliner and foundation. By the way, I'm not just a human: I'm a mermaid.

Gaara

The red head rustled his hair through his hands as he anticipated his Senior year beginning tomorrow: The usual whores practically eye-fucking him, the same teachers silently judging his tattoo, and of course, the same people avoiding him in the hallway. Ever since he arrived ar Konoha High 4 years ago, people have done all of the above, and more. The only thing to keep him happy was his poisiton in the schools Tae Kwon Do team. He was 4th Dan, basically a instructor with how much experience he had. His muscles bulged, even when he had long sleeves on, you didn't get better at Tae Kwon Do by just sitting around doing nothing, y'know. Everyone on the team feared him, even the 4th Dans like him were terrified to free-spar him.

" But I do love the power I have over them. " He sat on his bed, staring at his Dobak hanging in his closet, red and black, and his belt hanging on its own hook. Even as much as he loved Tae Kwon Do, he had always had a secret hope that one day, or maybe even the next school year ( he had been hoping since 9th grade), that maybe some girl would come along and prove to him that girls could be mysterious and enlightened, someone that would suit him. He definetly wouldn't let her get away if she ever appeared, no way. Now, it's time for bed: Tae Kwon Do team tryouts were tomorrow, and he had to prove that he still belonged on that team, that he deserved it, and he damn well had better be ready. It was the only thing keeping his anger in check. As he laid in his giant sized bed, by orders of his grandfather, he wondered what she would look like. What would her hair look like? Would she have bug eyes? A tomboy? Definetly not a girly-girl, he didn't care how enlightened and peaceful she was, if she was all pink and hoochy, or whatever designer brand that was, she was gone.

" Will she judge me by my tattoo?"

Nami, the next day

I finished my breakfast noodles and ran upstairs, getting ready for my 'good first impression'. My Too Fast Rose Garter Bow top and my black and red stud tutu would be wonderful. My red Leopard Bow heels wouldn't be too bad. ( Look them up, I love Hot Topic) My crossover fashion tights couldn't hurt either. Oh, how Mother woud cringe if she saw me. My adoptive Mom died a few years ago, my real Mother is still the sea: she would still accept me, just wash off my makeup so I don't hurt the fish with the chemicals, or something like that. Yes, I can talk to my Mother, who just hapens to be the sea, it's called Wave-language. Why do you think my last name is Fujira, it means wave! My makeup was on my pale/tan skin, since I spend some time in the water, and barely any in the sun, and I was on the road, walking to school in my pumps.

At Konoha High

My feet weren't even phased by the time I was inside the halls of the school. Already I knew that people didn't know how to whisper.

" Hey emo girl!" A crap-job manicured hand grabbed my shoulder and whipped me around. Some pink bitch is messing with me.

" Your tights are running." She smirked, and her stupid little clique started laughing like Angler fish from the depths of the ocean.

" Are they now? Your makeup is running. Nice dyejob, bitch." The pink head gasped and ran off to the girls room. The teachers came through the entrance hall, telling everyone to get to class, blahblahblah, so I went.

Homeroom: Hatake Kakashi , room 302

1st period: History AP , Hashirama Senju , room 206

2nd period: Gym, Guy, 107

3rd period: English AP, Kurenai, room 408

4th period: Painting, Deidara, room 508

5th period: Math AP, Iruka, room 402

6th period: Orchestra, Tayuya, room 604

7th period: Biology AP , Mizuki, room 100

8th period: Psychology, Lady Tsunade, room 800

" Well Shit, I'm all over the place." I sighed, fastly walking to my homeroom, which was somehow closer to the entrance hall than I thought. The room was...strange. As expected, the walla were white, only a few windows, but the wall was also covered with... Come-Come Paradise posters?

" Don't crowd the doorway please, just sit down and read, or something." Already, I liked this guy. I sat down at the closest empty table and pulled out Sun Tzu's The Art of War. Ok, maybe not the best choice of a book for a girl in my age and time, but someone left it on the beach one day, and I've read it so much, the cover was tearing and starting to bend.

" Gaara, for the love of God, why are you standing in the doorway like everyone else has so far?" Our grey-haired teacher moaned. I looked up: Sweet Mother Mary.