A/N:I watched the episode of Naruto last night, then I wrote this. It's set during the Chuunin exams. I was just thinking about how interesting it was for Gaara to write angsty death poetry while standing around holding an umbrella to keep the raining blood of his victims off of him.
Disclaimer:I do not own Gaara. I do not own Hinata. I do not own even one little piece of Naruto the anime or the manga. Isn't it sad? You know you want to buy me the rights to a minor character or something. How about Haku? Can I own Haku? Pweeze? He's dead, they don't need hom for the story, right? Ok, I'll stop before the disclaimer becomes longer than the story.
Hiding in a bush, watching a psychopath satisfy his thirst for blood, Hinata can feel her heart's loyalties shifting.
Gaara is killing the three Rain Nins, filling the air with bloody sand. Hinata doesn't know why he's killing them; she doesn't really care. She knows he could realize that she and Kiba and Shino are there, watching him, but she doesn't care about that either. Because he looks so pretty standing there with that umbrella, blood raining down around him, reciting improvised angst poetry.
"The corpse's bitter crimson tears intermingle with the endless sands, feeding the chaos within me." Hinata doesn't know why his words resonate with her so much. She's not a twisted psychopath. She's kind and gentle to a fault. And yet Gaara is so perfect, a being of cream and crimson. Why shouldn't she love him? He's like Naruto, but so different. Naruto is forever innocent, but Gaara has never been innocent. She doesn't know what draws her too him, but if it weren't for Kiba's hand on her shoulder, holding her back, she might just stand up and walk out to him. Just stand there and let him do whatever he wanted, needed do to her. But she doesn't. Because she knows that even if they don't notice her much, it would hurt her teammates a little if she just let him kill her. They were human, so they cared about the rest of the group.
But she knows the image will always be fixed in her mind. Gaara, a flower of crimson and cream, standing, holding an umbrella, untouched by the blood that rained down around him.
Hiding in a bush, watching a beautiful psychopath kill without mercy, Hinata can feel her heart's loyalties shifting.
Reviews are appreciated. Especially harsh constructive criticism, because I rarely get any suggestions on how to improve my writing. Just actually constructive criticism, not flames.