I know that I should be working on my other two stories, but I'm a little stuck on Geisha about how to write the next phase, and my muse for Sandmaster has run away. So I decided to write something else, and this was it.

Naruto doesn't belong to me, and this is your only notice.

Blood Sacrifice

Kyūketsuki (Vampire)

The moon was hidden behind clouds that were releasing a torrent of rain upon the city. Cars were kicking up a storm of water as they drove through the streets, and any fool out walking on a night like this was in danger of being drenched by a mini tsunami if they weren't careful. The weather section of the news had predicted this rain a week ago, and had said that it would likely last the rest of the month, which was another week away. That was quite believable at this point.

The city had gone without rain for a very long time, so for some, this was a welcomed relief. But even they were cursing the dreary weather in the end. This wasn't just 'a break in the drought', this was a deluge of near biblical proportions, if you wanted to be melodramatic. In any case, there wasn't much chance of getting out of this weather unscathed, and there would likely be many homes flooded, and insurance companies called upon to deliver.

At this moment, there was someone out in the rain, someone who was in no way bothered by the precipitation. He stood under a street light, soaked to the bone, but he wasn't shivering. He didn't feel the cold, he had never felt anything as trivial as temperature, hunger… Well, not in the conventional way, anyway. He had a hunger, but it wasn't satisfied by food. It would be better to describe it as a thirst, though water and other beverages ill sufficed.

What he hungered for, it was primal. It was basic and animalistic, the way that he craved it was something he avoided thinking of. Truly, he despised what he was, but there was no way to change it, short of killing himself, and he wasn't prepared to die just yet. And so he lived on, feeding off the life's blood of humans around him. Killing them so that he could extend his own miserable existence.

Kyūketsuki, that's what he was. A vampire. He was Sabaku no Gaara, and it was nearly four centuries ago that he had been turned, and had wreaked havoc on the human world, pillaging, killing, feeding off humans and warring with his own kind. But now he was tired, and was almost ready to give up on the world. But not yet. There was still something out there, he had no idea what it was, but for the last twenty years, he'd heard something calling to him, and it had led him here.

This city was called Konoha, and the last time he'd been here, it had been a provincial village, under the thumb of a cruel tyrant. Of course, that tyrant had tried to get kyūketsuki under his thumb to aid him in his ambitions that would have led him to the imperial Palace. But vampires weren't something that could be controlled, and that tyrant had found that out to his own demise. Gaara could still clearly remember how it had felt to rip the bastard's throat out…

Stirring slightly at the images his memory dredged up, Gaara shifted uncomfortably as he continued to stand there, waiting for goodness knew what. The shift in his position brought his mind back to reality, and he realised that he was being watched. Instantly he was on his guard, until he recognised the presence that observed him. One of his oldest friends, and a long time co-slaughterer of innocent masses.

Through the rain, a figure approached him. "Hey Gaara," the person said. "The teme said you were here, but I figured he was crazy. Why would you leave the coven to stand on a street corner like some hooker?"

Gaara's gaze moved over to his best friend Naruto, and he glared at him. "Fuck off, Uzumaki!" he growled.

Naruto's eyebrow rose, then he sighed. "The coven elders aren't happy with you," he told him. "They had plans, some really nasty and exciting plans, then you took off and they got all shitty and whiney, and they're blaming me for you getting out of hand."

Out of hand? Whatever. Gaara had already decided that the elders could get screwed. He knew that they had some pretty big plans for… something, but he wasn't interested. There was something else he needed to do, and he knew he had to be here for it to happen. Honestly, though, the ambiguous feelings that he had were frustrating him, but the urge to obey was far too strong.

"You have to come back, Gaara," Naruto was saying. "My being here is a courtesy, your only chance to return on your own. If you don't, then they'll send a retrieval posse after you."

"I can't."

Naruto's eyebrow went up. "You can't?" he asked. "Or you won't?"

Gaara glared at him and went back to waiting, ignoring the being staring at him. Naruto sighed and said in a defeated tone, "Fine. Have it your way. But they will be coming, remember that."

And with that, Naruto was gone.

?

Five days later, Gaara knew why he was waiting. The rain had let up for the most part, and there was only a slight drizzle. There was a lot of damage left over from the rain, and people were out and about fixing things. As he stood on that same street corner, waiting, that was when she walked by. The sun had only just gone down, and Gaara hadn't been waiting that long, but the instant he saw her, he just knew that she was his purpose.

There was nothing really out of the ordinary about her-standard height, weight and such-but her hair was a major exception. Cherry blossom pink. There really weren't any people with pink hair, unless it was a dye job, but Gaara's keen sense of smell didn't detect any of the chemicals associated with artificially coloured hair. Her scent stood out in a way that no other humans had, and it was intoxicating, as well as more than a little unsettling.

Apples and vanilla. That was what she smelled of. Gaara watched as she walked along the street, oblivious to all around her as she chatted away on her phone. Urged on by some deep instinct, he followed her. They walked for about twenty minutes, and she didn't seem to notice him, as caught up in her conversation as she was. This was good, he decided, as it seemed that he was being a little clumsy, following her like this, but he just had to get near her.

A couple of times he nearly lost her, as once in a while she seemed to vanish into thin air when she entered a crowd. But then he heard her laugh, and it would unerringly lead him to her. Eventually they came to a stop in front of an apartment building, and when she went in, Gaara stopped following her. He stared up at the windows, wondering which one was hers. In any case, he knew now where she lived, and it would be easier for tracking her in the future.

This was a mystery, he decided. Why had he felt a pull towards this mortal woman? As Gaara moved over to the opposite side of the road, he thought that there was nothing that he knew of that set a precedent for this. Leaning against the streetlight pole, his gaze fixed on the main door of the building as he set about accomplishing whatever it was that was his new goal in… well, unlife.

?

Sakura stared covertly out of her window, watching him as he just stood there. What was a vampire doing following her home?

So, review, please!