I don't know if this is an original idea; I hope it isn't, though...

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.


Understand

Ever since he'd met her, he knew she'd never understand.

With the sand wrapped around her in a funeral shroud of gold, she'd looked like all the others. Scared out of her wits, pathetic, frail and pampered and so ignorant she deserved her death.

Weak.

Especially in the eyes of a boy whose very name conjured fear. Especially in the eyes of a boy raised at the edges of society, alone, making small talk with the voice in his head.

A boy who had never been understood.

A boy who they were beginning to think never would be.

And then he'd learned how alike they were, the two of them, if only by accident or pure coincidence. After all the furor had long since died down, and that Uchiha she'd been chasing had eluded her once again. She'd carried on a conversation with what she called her 'inner self', believing that only the cold stars were there to hear it.

That was when he began to wonder.

Would she understand?

Mother had not approved, of course, but she was weaker now, and easily silenced. He was willing to do anything, try anything to satisfy this new need. The need to be understood. The need to find somebody; anybody who would listen. Accompanying that, the need for change; for acquiring a whole new set of the nonsensical charades that they called 'emotions'.

Fooling himself into thinking that he could live like this, like them, civilized and friendly and open and harmless.

Only to find that it hadn't worked out after all.

The sand returned to him in its glowing waves, a majestic waterfall in reverse. Pouring back into his gourd with the softest of whispers. He threw his head back and laughed.

He'd been wrong.

Not a trace of her body remained, not the smallest drop of bright blood. He'd always been good at the details. It never ceased to amaze him how his skills remained so sharp. And Mother was happy, babbling endlessly about the sweetest meal they'd had in weeks. No, months.

He'd been wrong.

She'd never understood, and she never would.


In case anybody's wondering, I do support GaaSaku, almost to the point of obsession. However, this is what happens when I try to write romance. Because I'm weird like that.