- Just so you know, I do not own any of the characters from Naruto as much as I wish that I did, also this is just something that I felt like writing, I haven't done it to offend anyone and I would be more than happy for you to make suggestions, I will take them on board as I continue to write, so yeah, please review, tell me if you like it or if you hate it, what you do and dont like and I will try to make the next ones a little better than the last -

For as long as I can remember I have always been different to the other children of my village. The other children are carefree, their faces are smeared with smiles and their hearts remain innocent, untouched by the harsh reality of this world. They see through eyes of purity for they have not seen what I have seen.

At the young age of 15 I have witnessed much more than I should have already. When I was barely six years old my father was murdered, that was the day everything changed for me. You see, my father was the previous Jinchuriki of the Ten Tailed beast.

The Ten Tailed beast is the combination of the previous Nine Tailed beasts, they were re-combined shortly before the end of the Fourth Great Ninja War by a powerful ninja named Madara Uchiha.

Madara intended to become the Jinchuriki of the Ten Tails himself however, through many people's efforts he was stopped and the Ten Tails was placed into my father. He then used the beast's power to turn the tide of the war towards the Allied Shinobi Forces which eventually lead us to be the victors.

A few short years after the war had ended my father met my mother and they had me. Then when I was six years old my younger brother, Hiraku, was born. It was only a few short hours before it happened, before my life was changed forever.

I remember the night so clearly, I was sitting peacefully next to my mother who was asleep in her bed at the hospital. A candle flickered in the corner of the room illuminating my mother's weary face.

I remember the way the corners of her mouth were slightly curved upwards as she rested peacefully. I remember her light breaths as her chest rose and fell, I remember happiness, happiness untouched by darkness.

I was innocent

I heard a distant door slide open and shut however I paid no attention to it at the time. I remember a cold draft sweep through a window as a murderous aura flooded the room.

I looked over my shoulder and saw him, a man no older than my mother with silver hair and blood red eyes that seemed to glow in the moonlight. My first thought was that he must be a doctor here to check up on my mummy.

It wasn't until I noticed the way he prowled across the room, closing the distance between us like a predator stalking its prey, coming in for the kill. He drew a kunai from a leather pouch strapped to his waist and held it firmly in his palm.

The man reached my mother and placed the metallic blade of his kunai to her throat. My mother's eyes opened and the look on her face is one that I will never forget. It was surprise, fear and horror melded into one single expression which contorted her entire face.

Her eyes seemed so distant, so full of despair and as the blade dug further into the bare flesh of her neck a scream pierced the silence, a scream emitted from my mother. She pushed my chair aside as the silver haired man cut into her neck and a river of red flowed from her throat.

I felt a scream escape my throat as I saw the blood trickle down her neck, pooling around her. I suddenly felt so alone, my mother was supposed to be indestructible, she was supposed to be able to protect me, why? Why couldn't she protect me?

My father burst into the room without warning, kicking the door down as he entered. He saw the man with the bloodied kunai standing over my mother as she gasped for air, her face was draining of its usual vibrant colours and was replaced with a ghostly white shade as her sleek, black hair fell in loose strands across her face.

As she continued to grasp at her throat with her frail hands I could see an overwhelming surge of anger flood through my father's body. He reached for the stash of shuriken which were kept in a pouch strapped to his right leg.

He threw the handful of shuriken across the room at the silver haired man, they collided into him with a light metallic clink as he blocked each one with a swift manoeuvre of his blade. The man made a mad dash towards my father while making a few quick hand signs. He ended with the tiger sign and a cloak of flames erupted from his body and leeched onto my father engulfing him in their fiery grasp.

My father let out an excruciating scream as the flames clung to his bare skin and slowly burnt away at his flesh. The image of him writing in pain on the cold floor as he slowly lost his life would forever be engraved into my memories, I can't even begin to describe the absolute horror that dug into me at that moment, seeing someone you love loosing the light in their eyes as they pass from this world to the next is indescribable in words.

Soon after my father stopped moving the silver haired man turned his attention to me. He began to slowly walk towards me. His footsteps falling heavily on the wooden planks beneath him, I heard my mother attempt to warn me however all that came out of her mouth was a fountain of blood.

The man whose eyes terrified me placed his kunai into my small hands as he leant towards me and whispered almost gently "I'm so sorry"

At that moment I wanted to cry, to close my eyes and open them to a different world, a world where this wasn't happening, when I wasn't losing everything, everyone I loved.

He pressed his thumb against my forehead creating a numbing sensation throughout my entire body. I looked up at him and felt tears fall slowly down my cheeks. I was afraid, this man had hurt my mother and father, he was an evil man.

I let out a small whimper as the man swiftly stood up, he turned his back to me and walked over to my father. He bit into his thumb and with the blood now pouring from the wound in his hand he drew a seal around my father's corpse.

The man muttered a few words and created another quick hand sign, a few moments passed and I thought nothing was happening. I felt relief wash over me as the hope that this was all over clouded my senses. I closed my eyes, ready to wake up from this nightmare, it was then that I heard it. What could only be described as a deafening roar tore through the silence. I opened my eyes to find myself staring at a single eyed beast slowly forming from the shadows.

I felt cold as darkness rapidly swallowed my surroundings, soon all that I could see was the silver haired man as he crouched over me. I tried to hit his hand away from me as his arm extended towards me. The man frowned down upon me and merely used his other hand to keep me still.

He drew a seal similar to the one he had used just minutes ago across my forehead with the remainder of the blood from his thumb. The beast with one eye seemed to be drawn to the mark. It's one eye was glued to me, as if it was hypnotized.

I counted ten tails spurting from its body, each one slivering like a serpent in mid air behind it. The beast reached out towards me, It's cold claw hovered over the mark before slashing at my face, cutting vertically over my left eye.

The pain from that wound still haunts me, the scar still present today, forever reminding me of what I want desperately to forget.

As blood poured from my eye and mixed with my tears a blinding light came from nowhere. Space seemed to warp itself around me as the beast in front of me slowly disintegrated into small particles of what appeared to be chakra which hovered in suspension for a moment, then they all shot towards me at a frightening speed and melded into my body.

The sudden and swift movement shocked me as I felt a surge of unfamiliar power well within me. That's all I really remember of that night because the amount of new power I had growing within me was too much, it knocked me out.

When I awoke I found my mother sitting next to me, grasping my hand. Her tear soaked face told me all I needed to know, something was wrong. I looked down to her neck and saw a shiny scar, it was then that I realised that the silver haired man was not a dream, he had been here, he had killed my father.

Later, someone would tell me that the silver haired man had escaped and that no one has the slightest clue as to who he was. Being able to take down the Jinchuriki of the Ten Tailed beast so easily was unheard of, it caused fear to spread in our village. There was a time of great unease, until finally after waiting for so long it just seemed that he would never come back.

This is where my story started, as painful as it is for me to remember it is just like the scar over my eye, it will always be there. It is an eternal reminder of the pain that man put me through that day. However it is also a promise, a promise that, one day, I will get my revenge.

My name is Miki no Sabaku, I was given the name Miki in order to put my fellow villagers minds at ease. Miki means true hope and the title given to me is 'Of the Desert'. Considering the position I was born into a more fitting name could not be found.

After my father was murdered and the Ten Tails was passed from him to me my life has been a nightmare. Everyone avoids me, not because of the beast within me but because of the curse I am supposed to have. You see, my village believes that one day the silver haired man will come back for me, they think that I was some sort of experiment, a tool even, they believe that he shall one day come to collect me and harm anyone who tries to get in his way. I guess that isn't so stupid, I mean at least they don't avoid me because of my scar.

You see, I am always extremely self conscious when it comes to my scar, I keep it hidden behind my fringe which covers a great deal of the left side of my face. I have muddy red hair which I let flow past my shoulders and catch in the wind as I walk.

I inherited my pale blue eyes and almost cream complexion from my father. I love my eyes, well, I love my eye, I can't use my left eye at all anymore.

I wear the traditional sand chunin attire however instead of wearing my headband over my forehead I wear it around my neck, I do this for two reasons. One, I have an understandable fear of having my throat cut and two, I hate having any sort of mark on my face, even if it is only my villages symbol I can't stand it.

As I walk through the sandy streets of my village I can feel people's eyes pressed on me as if they were waiting for the man to suddenly appear and kidnap me this very instant. The mere thought of that happening was enough to send shivers down my spine. Still, I kept my head held high as I made my way to the Kazekage's office.

The Kazekage would have to be one of the only people outside of my family who isn't afraid of me. Even my fellow chunin and jounin are afraid of the mad man who brought down my father and in turn, afraid of being near me when and if that man comes back.

Gaara has been the Kazekage of our village for nearly 20 years now, no one would have believed it at first considering who he used to be, or should I say, how he used to be. According to the stories I've heard of the old him he used to be a living nightmare.

Stories of his bloodlust terrify me, merely hearing of his murderous ways is enough to scare the crap out of me. Trying to imagine the horror he imbedded into the souls of those who actually crossed paths with him is impossible for me.

Hearing about how he used to be and knowing how he is today makes my head spin, it is nearly unbelievable to hear that one person can change another so drastically. Everyone knows he changed because of an encounter with the Nine Tails Jinchuriki, Naruto Uzumaki. I am glad that boy changed Garra, without the present day Gaara we wouldn't have won the Fourth Great Ninja War, we wouldn't even have the Allied Shinobi Forces.

As a Jinchuriki myself I feel that I can connect with the Kazekage on a more personal level, after all, he was the Jinchuriki of the One Tails before the Akatsuki came along.

I'd like to think of myself as a friend to the Kazekage because I'd probably consider him one of the very few people I myself would consider as a comrade, a friend.

As I enter Gaara's office the musty scent of the desert fills my senses, the room is filled with random piles of sand scattered here there and everywhere and instantly I know what is going on.

I look to my right and see Gaara hunched over a dark mass breathing heavily. He straightens up and looks towards me, it is then when I see the dark mass stand up behind him and throw me a wave. It is Kankuro, Gaara's brother.

His hair is covered by a veil of cloth and strange markings are drawn over his face. Kankuro seems ignorant to Gaara's rage as he stands there waving at me while his younger brother picks up and throws a vase across his head.

Kankuro seems to lose his balance for a moment before slowly turning to face his brother, a wicked grin plastered across his face. Garra lets out a heavy breath and yells in what could easily be mistaken for a childish whine "Shut up Kankuro! You don't know what you are talking about"

Kankuro, unfazed, merely answers bleakly "You told me to tell you when the time came, that's what I've done right?" he paused for a second, waiting for his brother to nod his head in agreement. After the brief action Kankuro added "It was only a matter of time after all"

I merely stood in the doorway, not having the slightest clue as to what they were arguing about this time. Usually Kankuro was protective of his younger brother, to the point of it sometimes seeming overwhelming to the rest of us. However they are still brothers, they still fight like brothers.

Gaara let his muddy red hair sweep over his face, covering the mark tattooed on his forehead. His eyes, just as they always were, are outlined by dark, sleep deprived circles. He looked to me and opened his mouth, as if to pose a question.

Suddenly, I could see a pang of realization cross his face as it finally crossed his mind that I had just witnessed the whole ordeal. I felt a light blush creep across my face, embarrassment taking over me as it occurred to me that this was probably a private affair.

I saw Garra's shoulders drop, relaxing. He merely shrugged while letting out an extended sigh. Before long my name fell from his lips as he addressed me "Hello Miki, could you please forgive me, it seems that your appointment slipped from my mind" he cast a glare in Kankuro's direction that seemed to freeze the very air it crossed to reach him.

Kankuro merely smiled back at him and once again waved to me while apologizing lightly "Heh, sorry Miki, what Gaara is trying to say is that he won't be able to see you today, he is going to be too busy drowning in his sorrows"

Gaara's glare intensified and it even managed to break through his brothers light-hearted defences. The red head turned his attention to me, his facial expression changing so quickly, so drastically that it took me by surprise. He was smiling at me and continuing on as if his brother hadn't spoken a word "If you would be so kind, may I postpone our meeting, your mission can wait until next time"

I feel myself smile as I reply without hesitation "Of course, just tell me when and I'll be here, you know that"

Garra returned my smile along with a nod, he leant back on his table while replying "I know Miki, you are a loyal comrade that I am thankful to have, now please, not to seem hasty but may you please leave, I have to kill my broth... ah, I mean have a calm, cool headed talk with my brother"

I took a step back out of the room and Gaara promptly shut the door in my face. I sighed, sometimes Gaara could be unreadable, unpredictable even. Whatever was bothering him wasn't nothing, in fact considering that I was to be assigned to an S ranked mission today it had to be bloody urgent.

I let out another sigh and began the short trip back home. The streets were a slightly less packed this time around, people still treated me as if I was deaths incarnation but I'd be worried if they treated me any differently.

I was about to turn the corner when something catches my eyes, a wisp of sliver. I turn my head just as it skims lightly across my cheeks. As I turn my eyes lock onto a figure, just a glimpse of a normal body, a normal body with silver hair.

Suddenly I feel myself begin to hyperventilate, I know that it could have been anyone, that it couldn't be him, that it could be an old man, an old woman, for god's sake it can be anyone, anyone but him.

My chest rises and falls violently, as if there just isn't enough air surrounding me. I don't know what I'm doing but before I can stop myself I realize that I'm following the silver haired figure. I need to know that it's not him, I realize at that moment I need to know who this man is more than I need to breathe, after all, if it is who I desperately don't want it to be, he is the man who killed my father and I need, no, I deserve to know why he insisted on screwing with my life.

I cross the crowded street following the top of his head as it bobs among the mob of surrounding people. The figure swiftly turns into an ally and without thinking, without contemplating the consequences of this idiotic action, I follow him.

It is then when I realise how utterly stupid I am, I know that I've fallen into his trap, that no matter how hard I fight I won't win.

His blood red eyes fall over me and I stop to catch my breath, his face, so different from that night, completely different. I'm shocked at how my mind could get the details of this man so wrong. He looks young, impossibly young, surely he would have to be nearly 40 now yet the man who stood in front of me was barely 20.

I couldn't move my body, this man had me frozen under his gaze and as I looked back at him more closely I wondered at how I could tell myself that he was evil, how could a person who looked like him be evil?

How can angels ever be considered daemons?

- Please, if you could, tell me if you like it, I'm not exactly sure what you all like so I need you to help me make it better for you to read next time -