A/N: Hello out there! I'll get around to removing and reposting Disorder one o' these days, I swear! This is a fic I started for scythemistress on her birthday. (Read her stuff please. And just so you know, I co-authored that Gravi fic) The character Kurai is based on her her, and is other than that totally original. Gaara's demon wasn't sealed, right? It wasn't in this fic. Not before…anyway, I would-ah fuck it. Just read.
'My give a damn's busted.'
Gaara heard his alarm go off in a series of high-pitched beeps, alerting him that it was 6:30 am. Time to get up. He rarely ever needed to, but there were some nights when the day's strain had been too much for him. At those times he napped. It was a common misconception throughout the sand village that he couldn't sleep. In the past, he himself had thought it was that way, when in reality it just wasn't good for him to sleep. The whole stealy personality thing. Gaara liked his personality, unstable and psychotic as it had been from lack of sleep. (A/N: Damn the double-edged sword that is Shukaku… gives the finger to a kettle in the corner of room>) So he hadn't slept. Until the recent developments of his Kazekageness.
Demon or no, Sunagakure was in need of a competent Kage. The Akatsuki was still a very imminent threat to all those who hosted demons, and grand total of TWO on record. Precautionary measures were taken. Try as they might, the skilled shinobi of the sand village could only manage to partially seal Shukaku. Reason being that the only known way to fully seal something was to use 'that jutsu'. The one both the third and fourth Hokages of Konoha died performing. Enough said. So, through the efforts of some of his fellow villagers, Gaara was able to sleep every once and a while. But he had yet to dream. That was something he had always been fascinated with, the concept of dreaming. He realized the beeper was still beeping, (A/N: Swiper no swiping!) so he leaned over and turned it off. He loved to wake up hating the alarm like any other person would. But he was still a bit wary of sleep, so he settled for just hating it.
It was like this almost every morning; he would "get up" at the earlier stated time, take off his pajamas (a gift from Temari that was almost blasphemous but held sentimental value), shower, brush his teeth, stare at his hair in the mirror for a few minutes (it never cooperated) comb it and then get dressed and go into his office and do stuff. He left his official Kazekage robes on the back of his official Kazekage chair that went under his official Kazekage desk inside his official Kazekage office, so he never worried about putting those on in the morning.
He began mentally reviewing what his official Kazekage duties for the day were. Eat, look at papers, take reports and complaints from citizens,assign missions. Then he had to talk to the members of his council, old people who were obsessed with filial piety and traditions. He had inherited them from his father. They were the people who had probably discussed with his father all the assassination attempts made on him. Before he had met the Council, that thought used to make his blood boil with rage. Now, seeing their false smiles and overcompensation for the wrong they done so that they could maintain their positions and titles, it just filled him with a apathetic hollowness. They '-sama'ed him this, 'hime'ed him that, but other than that never acknowledged him. He hated their properness. It made him nauseous, and for that he took something. There was something else about today, but he couldn't quite remember it. Oh well. Somebody'd tell him sooner or later.
He opened the door adjoining his living quarters to the official Kazekage office, crossed the room to his desk and pulled out his chair; preparing to sit, as he did every morning. But this morning, the chair gave resistance to his pull. Almost non-existent eyebrows raised, Gaara jerked the chair back to reveal a girl looking up at him from the hollow of his desk; the space where normally his chair and lower body would occupy. Finding no words that would do anything for this situation, Gaara just stood there and looked.
So how was that? I'm a slow typer, but with this fic I'm going to try and update at LEAST every week. I know I am probably going to beflamed for my short, wordy chapters, but I really want feedback.Tell where I can improve if you're going tobe overly critical. If you've read this far, you must have an opinionabout this fic, and(again) I'd like to hear it.So REVIEW! Thanks.