Title: Sand And Ash

Description:After years of living in the desert thirty two year old Naruto is seemingly sent back to simpler times. Yet the change is not welcomed, after finally coming to terms with both their deaths and the violent way it came about, seeing the ghosts of his past is the last thing Naruto wanted.

AN: If there is romance, it's undetermined. Most likely slash, though not between Gaara and Naruto. And it will be a gradual thing. There will be a word bank at the end of the chapter. The tribe that Gaara and Naruto are with is based very loosely off of Frank Herbert's Fremen. You'll see the influences if you know where to look.

Prologue : All Has Turn To Sand And Ash

Naruto stared at the sand that seemed to stretch out forever. The late afternoon air struck his face, lifting the fabric of his shemagh slightly. The air was cooling as evening approached and while no longer oppressively hot, it was still an unwelcome visitor. Behind him, the sun was preparing to disappear behind the tall dunes.

His nose twitched. A storm was coming. Building just somewhere over the horizon. The Mother Desert was a tricky mistress; she'd kill you just as quickly as she could. But that was what made her safe. After ten years of living in the never ending sand trap Naruto liked to think he'd gotten to know her quite well. Turning abruptly his jubba cloak shifted violently with the motion, sending the sand that had gathered overtop its ends up in a small cloud.

He made his way across the dune, the sidewise pattern of his feet upsetting as little sand as possible with practiced ease. Naruto smirked as the caravan came into view. The dull, tan-grey of tents already peppered the orange sands. Already he could see the lasts of the herders pushing their precious and dangerously small number of goats into their tents.

Good. Gaara's already gotten them prepared.

Naruto nodded to the perimeter guards before sneezing violently. The guard closest to him sighed and began to reconstruct his jubba tent with more speed. Naruto sneezes usually meant big storms.

He strolled towards the only real splash of color in camp, a red letter splashed across a tent flap. Red was the only color these people recognized, the only color they had a true word for. Red was the color of blood, and blood was the life water of the body. Red was life. And it was a color reserved for the holy man of the tribe, the Baraka. For Gaara.

A smirk pulled at his lips – only to be instantly removed at the memory of another child that had no natural sense of stealth. But Naruto wouldn't let ghosts take the humor from the situation, and he allowed the smirk to once more take twist his lips. Naruto shook his head as he crouched down next to a quivering lump of sand.

When will Hanan ever learn?

He lifted the edge of the cloak and peaked at the wide brown eyed child staring up at him. A heavy blush instantly enveloped the tanned six year olds face. Naruto shook his head with a chuckle.

"Hello Hanan."

"Um," Flustered the child looked down at the sand. "Hello Naib-Hadi."

Naruto lifted the cloak off the child completely and helped her get to her feet. "Now, now Hanan, you know that Zahid doesn't like it when you play outside his tent."

The little girl nodded, drawing patterns in the sand with her bare foot. "Sorry."

He brushed the sand from the girl's body before wrapping the jubba cloak around her once again. Naruto clicked his tongue. It was clearly oversized for a child.

"Hanan. This wouldn't happen to be your father's cloak would it?" The blush spread. Sighing he gave her a short swat on the bottom and a push towards her tent. "A storm's coming. Get home and obey your parents."

"Yes Naib-Hadi." Hanan mumbled something disrespectful (he'd let that one slid this time) and walked forlornly towards her home.

"Quicker please!" With a dramatic sigh she jogged over to her tent. He watched he was sure she'd gone inside before slipping into Gaara's tent. The Tanuki container sat in his usual position, grinding a paste like substance continuously over a stone slab.

"Hm, who's that for?" He asked, pulling his jubba cloak off and tossing it in a random corner.

"Ila's daughter has a rash."

"Ah." The blonde slid down onto one of the few floor pillows. "Hanan was watching you again." Nothing. "Were you busy today Zahid?" Silence. "Gaara?"

"No."

Naruto shook his head. He'd known Gaara for over twenty years now and the red head still talked as much as a rock. He sighed, reaching up to pull hisshemagh off. He ran a hand through his blond hair absent mindedly. It had gotten long over the years. He still liked to keep it somewhat short – anything past his shoulders and it drove Naruto nuts. He usually kept wrapped with fabric. Both effectively containing it from getting and keeping sand out of it.

He snorted. Well. Maybe that was impossible. The sand here got into everything. It got into your very bones. He fell backwards with a huff, lying awkwardly with his legs still folded over the pillow but his upper body spread out across the rugs. He could still remember the color of trees. He tried to remember the last time he'd been one. How the bark had felt, how the leaves had smelled. He could almost feel it…

Naruto shook his head, trying to quell the longing that had blossomed in his heart.

It was too dangerous to leave the desert. And Konoha was no longer the home it once was. The strong scent of spice tea filled the tent and Naruto glanced up from his thoughts to find Gaara feeding the chopped up product into a boiling pot. He allowed his head to drop onto the rugs once more, staring at the tented ceiling. Outside the starts of the storm was arriving, the patter of sand hitting the tent fabric filling the air.

The gourd holding Gaara's charka imbibed sand rattled slightly in response but a sharp look from Gaara silence it. It was funny, Naruto had never seen the desert as anything other then a wasteland. How wrong he had been. Life existed on different levels here – but it was here. Even the sand itself seemed alive.

I wish…

He wished he could have showed Kakashi this. Out of the old pains that haunted him, for some reason the ones surrounding his old teacher were the strongest. He could deal with Sasuke being dead. Honestly, Naruto had realized that was going to happen long before it did. Some things done to the body simply can not be healed. And while Naruto missed Sasuke daily, he was smart enough to realize that death was the only way his friend could every truly find peace.

He could deal with the memories of the war, of the destruction of the majority of the great villages at that demon's hands. He could even deal with the deaths of those first few precious people who had called him friend.

Naruto could handle the nightmares, the memories. The love for the people who called him Naib – for the people who had taken him and Gaara in, regardless of their pasts and treated them as their own – from the strength their love gave him, he could deal with those.

But he for some odd reason Kakashi's death had always been the one that had affected him the most. His left hand flexed and he could almost feel the weight of his teachers hand in his own. He and his old teacher, they had grown so much closer then he'd ever thought was possible. Naruto supposed that after being on the run with someone for two years such things happened.

But it was more then that. Kakashi was the last bit of Konoha left for Naruto. While they stood together there were two leaf headbands, not one. As long as Kakashi was with him, Naruto wasn't alone. The war had changed them both in ways that neither had anticipated and the friendship that had bloomed was something in itself. Naruto closed his hand, trying to erase the once and only time he'd seen Kakashi without his mask from his mind. In the end, the teacher that Naruto had long ago convinced himself cared more about Sasuke then him had ended up giving his life for him.

The lump in his throat was back again and Naruto swallowed harshly around it. He wished he could have shown his precious people the kindness of his tribe. Shown them how he had not abandoned his dream to become Hokage, only altered it. He wanted to show them his role of Naib. How he watched over his people and protected them from him. Constantly moving so they would stay out from under his seeing eyes.

He wanted to take Shikamaru and show him the ingenious water pumps and water recycling system that kept his people alive. Show Sasuke the unique and deadly way that his new people fought; a knife style that used small burst of charka and sound as weapons. Walk Sakura and Ino and Hinata down the desert dunes during the cold nights, showing them stars in numbers they could have never dreamed of. He could never see the hounds that helped herd the goats, a breed competently inside itself, without thinking of Kiba.

Ultimately he wished he could have shown Kakashi the beauty of the desert. It struck Naruto as deeply unfair that the silver haired Jounin died before he could understand the wonder of his graveyard.

But that was the past. And Naruto rarely let himself be bothered by it anymore. Long ago he'd come to terms with their deaths. Should he ever find himself in position to revenge them, he would do it. But the likeliness of that ever happening was slim. And Naruto had his tribe to look after now. All of his energy went into keeping them safe and blind fromhim.

There was an eruption of heat on his forehead and Naruto opened his eyes with a short wail as he scrambled to move the hot tea cup form his forehead. A short glare at Gaara revealed him back at work on his paste, this time sealing it in a goat's bladder to keep the moisture in.

He eyed the quite man. Though the red head had lived with sand his whole life, the desert had changed him. He was tan, dark enough for the color of his tattoo to shift color. He still kept his hair painfully short, covered almost always in a simple tan and red shemagh. Even now he wore the thing, though out of politeness he'd rested it around his shoulders and left his head bare.

He guessed he shouldn't have been surprised that the only real survivors of his wraith had been Jinchuriki. Naruto drank the spice tea, his lips drawing back from his teeth at the strength of the dark liquid.

"You made it strong today Gaara."

"The storm will be long."

Naruto nodded, understanding the cryptic answers Gaara gave was like second nature to him now. He could still remember the relief, the downright joy he'd felt when he'd felt the Kyuubi all but yank him towards the Gaara's hiding place. Together he and Gaara could survive. And together they would protect this tribe. He as the Naib and Gaara as the Baraka.

He had to admit, he was surprised to with the exuberance – well, as much of that as he was capable of having – that Gaara took to the job. Being the tribe's holy magic man seemed to suit the sand user just fine.

"Drink your tea."

Translation: Stop thinking so much.

Naruto nodded, sipping the hot tea gently, rolling the sharp flavor across his tongue. "Hey Gaara?" He spoke on, knowing he wasn't going to get a response. "I think we should go back."

The only sound that filled the tent was the sound of the sand and the rustling of Gaara wrapping the medicine. Then, "Bring me more sheep bladder."

Naruto narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "Snarky bastard. No wonder you never made friends." He barely ducked the stone mortar, snorting in humor under his breath as he exited the tent, hastily pulling his shemagh and jubba cloak on.

The storm was strong now, whipping his cloak fiercely around his calves. Though the storage tent was only a few steps away Naruto could only make out its outlines. For the normal human it would be invisible. He took a step forward and froze, his head snapping towards the ground. The sand curved up his legs possessively now, almost stretching the fabric of his pants as it gripped on.

What the hell is Gaara thinking? Surely that comment didn't piss him off that much!

Naruto's eyes widened as there was a crashing sound from within the tent, followed almost immediately by a short cry of rage.

Wait! Gaara isn't doing this!

He swung around violently, flipping open the tent flap. What he saw froze Naruto in his tracts. Gaara's own sand was attacking him, encasing him in a hard shell of itself. Gaara looked up at him, and panicked blue met shocked green ones, then the sand encased him. Letting out a shout Naruto tried to run to his aid but only tripped. The sand had taken advantage of his moment of distraction and now covered his entire legs, reaching with ever gaining speed towards his waist and then chest. No matter how much he tore at the sand, it came back even faster.

He managed one desperate scream before the sand filled his mouth, reaching far enough down his throat it made his lungs burn. Naruto's body heaved as the sand filled his nostrils and stung his eyes, leaving him breathless and defenseless. The last thing he was aware of was the feel of its heavy weight crushing down on him.

So what do you think? I'm going to have the next chapter up soon. I'm trying to do a different twist on the 'go back in time and fix stuff' story. Hope you liked it!

Word Bank:


Baraka - A living holy man with magical powers.

Hadi - The Desert Name given to Naruto once he joined the tribe and became Naib, means 'Guiding Light"

The Harj - literally, "Desert Journey/Migration. Refers to the constant nomadic lifestyle of the Naruto's people.

Jubba cloak - a long, all purpose cloak that reflects heat or radiates it depending on how it is adjusted. It is also designed to convert into hammock or a small tent if needed.

Jinchuriki – Humans with demons sealed inside them (I.E. Naruto and Gaara).

Naib - the leader of the tribe.

Shemagh - a traditional covering of the face that protects the wearer from wind and sand.

Tanuki - The type of demon sealed inside Gaara, Japanese for "Raccoon-dog."

Zahid - Gaara's tribe name, means 'Self-denying". Given to him for his sleeping habits.