Seven-year-old Emiko Kichida stared at the redheaded Ichibi, Sabaku no Gaara wordlessly as he shook while tears fell. They hated him, specifically, everyone. Well, she didn't, she doesn't even know how to hate or shun anyone to start with and that was a wonderful defect in her being. The night desert breeze blew past them and the stars shone the brightest it could yet the perfectly round moon gave off most light. The dark haired, orphaned girl continued to gape at him dumbly and cluelessly.

Gaara was ashamed as he looked down while he wept. He was crying in front of his first friend, why you ask? The young brunette girl he had hurt earlier with his sand rejected his peace offering of ointment, which was for her wounds he had unintentionally caused. She just slammed the door to his sincere face with a "Go way" as response to his humble act. It was a coincidence that Emiko was taking a walk alone that night (which was risky) to spot her newly found friend. Just as she greeted him with a cheeky smile she always had… he began to cry.

The celestial eyed girl shifted in the sandy street ground as she looked down planning on what she should do. She took a shy, unsure step towards the weeping raccoon-eyed, eight-year-old. He made no response, he just cried silently as tears fell to the ground. Emiko lifted her gaze to fix her clear eyes on his shaking form which was an arm's-length away, her anxious expression softened before she cringed at the pain she felt inside—why? Why can she feel the pain he felt? What did she have the urge to take vengeance upon the heartless girl Gaara tried to make peace with? Why could she feel her own tears pricking at the edge of her blue eyes? She pushed back the verge of tears as she hesitantly stretched out her right arm towards him. Her small palm rested against his chest where his breaking heart was located. The young redhead lifted his head sharply before slowly lowering it to meet the shorter girl's eye level. He took silent short breaths at the contact before murmuring three words with a pain filled voice that an eight-year-old can't possibly possess,

"It hurts there."

The seven-year-old gasped as she gaped once more into pained turquoise eyes heavily outlined with black from the possession of a demon tanuki and from the lack of sleep perhaps. Emiko's tiny mouth dropped slightly yet no words left the gap. How could a seven-year-old with young knowledge possibly explain this? Why can't she say anything to comfort her dejected friend? Her heart throbbed to say something nice, her brain, however, failed to correspond. What can she say? Her spirit and thoughts ran into frenzy as she tried to organize on what she should do. Once again, Gaara hung his head letting the remaining salty tears flow as his arms hung limply at his sides as well. The black-haired future kunoichi panicked all the more though she made no move. Her insides started to riot, stomach clenching in fear for the boy to leave her without any comfort, blood rushing in response of her screaming heart demanding her to say something, brain bewildered that it could not respond.

Gaara sobbed even more not bothering to wipe away the tears nor the snot that threatened to drip from his small nose. The frenzied girl's stomach clenched tighter that it hurt, her blood rushed furiously as her heart screamed all the more louder that she was sure the whole Suna was awake, her brain racked vigorously—she thankfully remembered what her deceased parent or older brother did to her when she was in distress… that was when they still had breath.

Suddenly, Emiko threw her small arms around her redheaded friend's waist, resting her head on his chest, feeling the fabric of the poncho slightly rough against her smooth cheek. Startled, Gaara's wounded heart stopped beating at the warmth he never received. Though the dry desert night was cold—he was warm. Blood flowed through his cheeks faintly, his crushed heart started to pound in bewilderment. It took a while for him to relax as he relished the security he felt not minding the disgusted or dropped–jaw looks some of the villagers gave when a few passed the street that late night or when some peeped out the windows of their sand-made houses. None of them mattered.

"You're supposed to hug me too." The girl suddenly mumbled against him since the sandboy just stood there eased at the act. Gaara slid his arms around her hesitantly and she sighed contentedly. He couldn't believe she actually trusted him. Trusting him, a Jinchuriki, to have her this close. Trusting him enough to not hurt her like a monster he was. Because of that, he was happy as he subconsciously tightened his grip thinking that she must be a non-existent character that Shukaku played with in his head at times.

She wasn't.

She was real.

"It does not hurt anymore."Gaara said quietly with the dimness of the night hiding the soft smile graced on his lips.

Owari~

Author's Note:

Alright, after a few cups of coffee and inspiration, I finally mustered the courage to post a story :) hope you liked it m'dear :D I accept correction but please be nice T.T if you hated this please don't flame me. I can take correction but not flames really. So, tell me if you want me to use this as a base for a love story x3 thank you very much and take care :*