Disclaimer::: I don't own any of the characters, places, or anything of the like that I'm writing about. I don't own it at all, I just like making interesting stories with it's characters.

Warning:: This particular fanfic is not for the faint of heart. In my personal opinion it is rated R for: Adult Themes, Adult Language, Crude Humor and Violence. This is no joke, you've been warned.

Extra Clarification:: This story is not written in usual style. The chronological order may throw you off as you read deeper and deeper into it. The beginning takes place 2 and 1/2 months after Naruto leaves with Jiraiya. ANLAfter Naruto Left/Leaves

Enjoy!

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The sound of running water pitter-pattered gently as it hit flesh. By the feel of the air the water was almost searing in temperature, though slick precipitation did not stick to the many glass mirrors that lines the circular walls. It was like being in a circus 'fun' house, though the bathing room was much more lavish. A chandelier hung gloriously from the golden, high domed-ceiling. It's light source was the sun, which shined in by the form of golden rays from strategically placed rectangular windows built into the dome. The sun's rays would reach the tiny, shimmering crystals that hung from the chandelier, which made the light scatter around the room in disco-ball fashion.

Timidly she crossed the four foot hallway, leaving the safety of the doorway. Her small silk slippered feet hesitated before she tested the ground with her big toe, like a swimmer testing cold waters, the small foot retreating beside the idle one after a few seconds. Next, her head would peak around the tiled corner, shoulder length brown hair swaying in her momentum. Her big brown eyes grew wider at what she saw...

Matsuri never noticed the tiles that she stood on, but when the chandelier's light caught her eyes her mouth dropped in astonishment. The square slabs were colored a mesmerizing gold and crimson, and even though they were just dyed that way and made from hardened sand and clay, Matsuri was caught in awe. There were rows of gold faucet sinks along the circular walls, each one coupled with a grand mirror that seemed to extend to the ceiling. At the very end of the east side was a horizontally curved glass wall. Upon further inspection, this wall had it's own doorway concealed in it. The glass was heavily fogged with steam, and the sounds of shower came from that direction.

Matsuri's eyes were keen, and she stared at the shower for a while before figuring, against her better judgement, that her master was occupied and thus she was safe. She would cross the distance between the hall and the counter-tops where the sinks were, her movements silent and calculated. The hairs on her body stood on end as if she were cold, though that possibility was void, as the temperature in the bathing room reached past ninety degrees Fahrenheit. A tentative hand reached out to touch the pearl countertop, her eyes looking up at her reflection. Her heart beat sped up, her forehead beading cold sweat. What she saw shocked her.

It seemed that even after her two month period in her master's chambers her hair, which had been previously just past her ears, was now to her shoulders; a look at she did not particularly care for. It was glossier too, the healthy sheen also reaching her skin. But her skin and hair were not the only things to have enhanced. Her body once had taken a girls form, though now it was enhanced and becoming womanly in appearance. She didn't have much time to lounge on her vanity however, as less than a second after she had reached the counter-tops, the water stopped. It took her a minute to realized the sudden loss of noise, but a single second was too late.

Her scream could be heard from halfway down the castle's main corridor, though it lasted less than a second in duration. A gag of sand filled her mouth, and she instantly knew that if she did not close her throat then it would unmercifully fill her lungs and stomach, causing a painful death. Her hands clasped her throat, her knees issuing a dull thump as she fell on the tiles beneath.

Matsuri sprawled on the bathroom floor via her hands and knees, sand spilling out of her mouth. She still could not cough as the sand would only get sucked back into her body, though her body was twitching and convulsing as it struggled to fight the impulse.

As if things could not get any worse, something hard and heavy crushed against her back, hitting her dead squared on her shoulders and spine. Her chest would fall violently onto the tiles, her breath leaving her body in a great tuft of air from her mouth, dispelling the sand that was still there.

Her watery eyes looked up slowly, it taking a moment before the brown orbs could focus on anything. In the distance, a few feet away from were she clambered in destitution, was her master.

A ginger-haired male stood nonchalantly by the linen closet, the doors slightly ajar. He was deliberately slow in his actions, wrapping a crimson towel around his waist just below his navel. With one hand he closed the closet, the other one grasping the towel that was loosely around his waist. The whole time he had yet to turn around the face the girl, as if she weren't even there. Now though, his head slowly turned to look at her.

His eyes were stained with black along the lids, heavy bags accenting beneath them, a result of a life without sleep. He bore a thin nose with petite nostrils, and thin boyish lips. His neck was thick for his stature, which was compact and muscular, though still pubescent in it's height and build. His skin was light for one who had lived in Sunagakure his whole life, it placid as if the sun had never kissed it. He was easily a figure of around 5'7, though weighing in at a hardy 155 lbs because of his muscle. Though if one were to see him, he would hardly look past 135 lbs.

The look on his face was more than enough to make her heart weep. His lips were pursed, though his clear green eyes were the one's smiling, showing all of their perverse amusement. Slowly he would walk towards her belittled form, droplets of water running down his slick, clean skin and forming puddles at his feet.

He stood in front of her, condescending green orbs looking down at her head. She had no choice but to bow her head in a mix of shame and fear. Her voice came out hoarse, as her lungs strained to breath with the heavy slab of sand on her back.

"I... I'm sorry Gaara-sama."

His facial expression did not change, though there was an air about him that would make one tell he was pleased. After awhile he would speak,

"You deliberately sneak into the one place that you know."

He would pause, waiting for her to catch up. His voice was purely apathetic, never betraying the emotions that his eyes so well portrayed for him.

"You're most vulnerable." She managed to say through the pain.

By this time a majority of Gaara's skin had dried naturally, and the sand that was on her back drifted up to his skin, his armor returning to him.

There would be a long silence and huge tention. Then he would sigh, shaking his head to the side and walking past her, out of the door. The sand followed him, until he closed the door behind him, the substance falling to the floor.

Matsumi's sobs filled the empty bathing chambers.

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