Disclaimer: Characters depicted in this Story are owned by "Mashi Kishimoto" If one is not, A note in the disclaimer section will be reminding you, that the character was of my creation. I hope you enjoy. [ First chapters are always a bit long ]

CHAPTER ONE: Early Mornings Arrival


Peach silk blankets were wound up all over the large bed, A pale foot moved slightly under more silk white covers. The covers Kept the bed cool, It was vital to have something as such when you were sleeping, in the Middle of The Desert. The temperature can go from a hundred degrees in the morning to afternoon, then drop to below Zero in the dusk of the night.

The giant window admitted sunlight through the room, waking the sleeping one peacefully, Golden rays casting upon his porcelain skin.

His feet stuck out through the peach silk, Tiredly his toes crunched into a small ball, as he stretched his arm out drowsily, dragging the pillow closer to his face.

His dark Pharroed circles around his eyes, made his turquoise pupils shine through with a glisten. His red hair tossed, and turned messily to the side, as he rubbed his unclothed shoulder unsurly squinting in the suns direction. A small yawn escaped his throat, causing him to hide his face in his hands frustratedly, rubbing the crimson Kanji Symbol above his eye. "love". Usually when asked about this symbol, or if it had been brought up spontaneously by villagers, or his siblings, he would only hiss in response with,

"Jiai." Which Demeaned the small but noticeable love Symbol embedded on his forehead. Jiai was the word he used most often, a phrase Meaning,

"Care for only yourself, Love only yourself." Which defeated the whole purpose of the curse fitted above his eye.

Even his name, which he did not choose, went along with the saying. "Demon who loves only himself"..That was his name, that was what Gaara meant, the burden of knowing your parents hadn't though too highly of you by giving you that name, could cause conflicts within oneself let alone.

derogatory, and negative mummers spewed from his lips, as he pulled himself out of the bed, facing the glass window. His eyes imprinted on the Village before him. It looked like a sandy tundra. Next to him, on a small round bamboo N-table, was a red robe, and a netted top, which he was urged to put on to set aside the near nudeness of himself.

First slipping on the black net, which left tender diamond imprints all over his back and arms when removed, and then came to draping robe, which he pulled over himself with caution.

He began to button it up slowly, his creamy white fingers looped the little orbs in and out of the robe. His eyes searching his actions like a lost child. He had always been intrigued by the small things, and always examined things a bit longer then he actually should have been. This was due to his curious mindset. Over the years, Gaara had become much more of a gentler, and wiser person then the fading visage of his twelve year old self. A time where he had felt so alone, that he really did have only himself.

Interrupting his thinking a sudden knock came upon the door, his neck jumped slightly as he peered unexpectedly towards it. Waiting for the whomever it was to address themselves, his mouth remained sealed like a padlock.

"Gaara,?" The deep voice of a woman trailed off.

"Are you up, you do know what time it is?" Several more pounds came upon the door, as a strongly pronounced male voice joined in the coaching.

"Yeah, Gaara, wake up, we don"t have time for your oversleeping again, Neither do you."

Gaara took a small gulp annoyed, he squinted, rubbing his eyes once more, as the bags under them folded into place as responded in a low, and raspy tone.

"I"am awake."

Again the female voice intruded.

"Did you just get up?"

Gaara frowned insultedly, crossing his petite arms over his chest, and tramping sluggishly towards the door, removing the golden lock, and turning away, to finish getting ready.

Finally he answered the woman back.

"No, I couldn't sleep.." He pondered, lying to her because he had actually been sleeping ever so peacefully, but he'd appreciate no further questions. The never ending red cloak clad on him, dragged aimlessly against the ground, back to the bamboo table, placing one of his hands on it, and another on his temple, feeling about his pulsing headache.

The door swung open, and a Blonde haired girl, with hair tied back in twin tails, and dark eyes fluttered in after him.

"Are you sick?" She asked nervously, grabbing a hold of him, while he set a pair of widened eyes on her. She placed her palm dramatically on his forehead, and he winced pulling away.

Without a word, he shook his head to confirm that he was not.

"He's not sick Temari, he's probably just sore.' A heavy set man, with tribal markings, and black clothing instigated.

The man gazed at Gaara, who awkwardly avoided his eye contact.

"I mean after all, you did put up some fight back there, hmm?" He announced proudly of Gaara.

Gaara's eyes shot morosely at the man, not about to give him a straight response. What happened was painful, better yet said, too emotional for Gaara to even want to comprehend at the moment.

"Kankuro!" The girl known as Temari scolded, bringing a strong gloved fist to Kankuros chest.

"What!?" He argued a bit lost. Neither of them noticed, that Gaara was already headed out the door.


"Love." He sauntered about the hallways of the Kages temple. He was after all, the well respected Kazekage of the sand. A fine ruler he was, for being so early off in his teens.

"Was it love, when the Blonde haired boy saved me?, When I felt his heated thick tears trickle onto my chest?" He asked himself.

"Had Naruto, shown me love perhaps?"

"Or is it the way, I"am awoken, by cheers outside, and greeted by the shinobi of the village? Is it love or respect i've earned? It could never be both, could it?" He thought to himself once again, his red hair bouncing slowly with every step he took, gating to the door of the Tea lounge.

He pressed both of his cold, thin hands on the door, only to have it pushed open from the inside, nearly knocking him off his feet. He sputtered about for a moment, his impassive face, showed a quick glimpse of surprise, as his eyebrow folds creased together, linking eyes with the one who had so rudely bum rushed the door.

He dusted off the finely woven red robe, to make contact with a short pale woman, with brown hair, and dark eyes to match, her body engulfed in a green vest, she dashed for him apologetically.

"Gaara-Sama! I mean, Kazekage-sama!" The girl rephrased nervously, eagerly rushing him to his feet, which hadn't taken well too.

"Forgive me!" She crooned, giving a quick bow of the head.

The girl, was no other than Matsuri, Gaara's first student. The only one that had been brave enough to open up to him, and trust him. And for that, He had gotten her far beyond the others, he helped her, and she helped him.

Gaara shook his head, when she offered his hand only getting back on his feet and resuming his previous actions.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, her fingers shook uneasily, as she pulled her brown bangs away from her face. To say the girl wasn't head over heals for him, was out of the question. She was dazzled, memorized, completely starstruck, and mortified of him at the same time.

Being so young, she never did have quite such mixed emotions towards anyone else. The ever spread history they shared, was replayed in her mind every time he was to grace her presence. The times he remained so calm, in in tact with himself, when all was wrong, was possibly the most admired trait about him to her.

Matsuri grew weak in the knees, in fact she always did. That was one thing that truly frightened her about him, how was it, that a single human being, could bestow such a cruel power upon her? Why was it, that every time he came around, she wanted to hide her face in embarrassment, yet tend to his every need all at once? Just why?

His feral eyes eyes scanned her for a moment, the glass orbs looking her up and down, before he stuck his nose up persistently, shaking not only her hand, but her comfort away. His slim bony fingers cupped in gold rings,similar to something an imperial prince would wear, traced up his collar bone slowly. She would only hope to think suggestively, but he remained as innocent as ever. Gaara nodded his head in response, wrenching his fingers over the handle of the door to proceed inside. Through the outside of the doors where she held her stance, she let out a small squeak.

"Gaara-Sama! Please be careful! You're still fragile, Maybe you should go back and rest for a little while longer!"

He stopped in his tracks, not wanting to head her advice, his eyes slightly rolled to the side glaring back at her. The attention was wonderful, and he was astounded, and grateful that she cared. But Gaara was not weak. Because he lost one battle, and even lost his life, did not make him fragile. He was standing on his own two feet, stronger, healthier, and more determined then ever to protect himself, and his village. He did not need to be told what to do at the moment, he had intentionally headed to the tea lounge for a reason, to think things over. How he can become better, and not sit around in pain like what was expected of him. Like any wounded soldier, if you did not get back on your feet, mark your comrades words it was the end of you. Gaara already had his end, today was a new day, today was his begining.

Her pupils resorted to nothing but a speck, when she had caught on to his gaze. By nature, humans are bound to read, and understand body language. Which she did, and boy, without words he was more intimidating than ever.

Heels came clicking down the hallway, and a couple of huffs as in to catch a lost breath.

"Matsuri!" Temari growled aggravated.

"Temari sa-" Matsuri began before the blonde haired woman broke out in a thundering yell.

"What on earth are you doing, you of all people should be considerate of Gaara's well being, and not bombard him this way!"

All color was flushed out of matsuri's face, the embarrassment she had just endured, was enough to surpass one of Hinata's spontaneous faints.

Her darkly gloved hands sunk slowly in place over her mouth, as she turned once more to meet eyes with Gaara.

Gaara parted his lips slowly, The coated red hue of them, defined his lost emotions more efficiently.

"I didn't mean too," Matsuri sulked morosely,

"No." Gaara stated.

"I called for her." He ended sternly.

Matsuri's eyebrows nearly leveled with her hairline as his words sounded off from ear to ear. She unconsciously bit her lip.

Once again, he had come to the rescue, he was always the one to say her.

"He's so.." Matsuri pondered momentarily.

Temari choked up, she put a hand in mid air, signifying she was done here,and meant no harm.

"We'll be waiting for you outside, Kazekage-sama." Temari addressed her younger brother formally, before dashing for the door.

"perfect." Matsuri finished her last thought under her breath.

"I would go outside too." Gaara advised.

When she had looked back to protest, the doors to the tea lounge were already sealed firmly.


One of the house keepers of the temple gladly pulled out a seat for Gaara, the chair echoed with a hollow press against the ground, as it was pulled across the floor, so he was able to seat himself comfortably. He sat in the chair like throne, with both arms folded underneath his chin. His felt, not even by looking that his nails were in desperate need for a trim. Who knows how long it had been, since he had actually had some breathing room, to think about small things like,

"My nails," He scoffed incredulously.

"I wake up in the morning, clearly I do still need further rest, if my first thought in this new life, is of my nails." He piped mercilessly to himself in his head.

His eyes squinting from exhaust.

"To eat.." He suggested out loud,

"What is there, to eat?"

One of the waitresses wailed nervously at his broken english. Restating it again.

"To eat! Of course! Your favorite, we already have is dished up for you in the back, along with some Hibiki-an."

Hibiki-an, was a tea very similar to green tea. Good for the train of though, relaxed the mind and the restless soul.

As far as the favourite dish went.

His mouth watered slightly, causing him to bring to fingers up to his shaped lips, to keep any saliva from accidentally dripping out.

"Gizzards," He thought hopefully, wanting to form a small smirk on his face, but retaining from doing so.

"Hey! Little bro, thats a bad habit you know!" Kankuro babbled pointlessly.

Gaara placed a palm on the table, a drop of drool escaping his lip, which caused him to groan in frustration. If he hadn't been so hungry..

"What's a bad habit?" Gaara argued senselessly.

"Running off like that! What if you tripped and fell or something?"

The redhead licked his lips pretentiously, to keep from any sudden outbursts. He closed his eyes, and folded his hand tightly together.

Counting down from ten, as he felt his brothers fist pound on top of his back.

"Ten." Gaara grunted.

"Nine.."

He could hear voices in the background of those he had tried ever so diligently to not hear, the clicking of china, and fine glasses was heard all around the room. Loud laughs broke the silence of his thoughts, with small remarks like "Kazakage's back!" And "Gaara's so wonderful!"

"One." He finished, tilting his head up slowly. A tea cup had already been placed in front of him, along with the Gizzard, everything had already been neatly prepared. He stretched his head in confusion. Unsure of when this had happened. His wet lips lined the rim of the tea cup, as steam blew in his face, making his skin soft, and moist. He inhaled it like he'd never smelt a scent that lovely.

A loud whistle escaped the crevices of Kankuro's mouth, as he fingered the top of his pointed fabric above his head.

A slight rosey blush came to Gaara's face, as he challenged Kankuro with his eyes, like that was the most uncalled for thing he had ever heard of. When a woman began speaking, and Kankuro at the same time.

"She new here, or what!" Kankuro dwindled morbidly upon her.

Gaara's nose nearly crashed with the woman's, as he turned his head to the left. He jumped back in shock. While she gripped her nose, small giggles departing from her lips.

"My apologies Lord Gaara!" She burst out hysterically, her face beat red from the subject she had thought to be so funny.

Gaara's mouth went jagged in confusion, as he watched her carry on. she had not been the keeper of the tea lounge before, she was definitely new.

She had tremendously long curly white hair pulled back in a bun behind her head, Her eyes ran a golden brown colour, with red lining surrounding her upper lids. Her skin was an ivory color, with strange red markings revealed on her wrists, underneath the golden kimono she wore, the markings trailed up her arms abstractly, some in waves, some aligned in stripes. She held many similarities in looks to the goddess, "Amaterasu Of The Sun."

"What is your name?" Gaara instigated immediately trying to silence her. Her laughs ceased, when she saw, his attitude had not been so jolly towards her. She placed one hand on her hip, giving him a concentrated bow.

"Solhiya." She responded,

"Solhiya?" Gaara questioned, his lips resting on the tea cup. Her lids set on him, in a mysterious fashion, half open, as if she knew something that he did not. A grin spread across her face, and Gaara fixed his eyes on the unknown woman immediately. Who's smile became larger as she trained her eyes on him, and there was an ear splitting crack of his teacup.

He gasped, removing his tender fingers from the cup, and letting it hit the table. Last he knew of, if he was correct, that was indeed a bad omen.