Hello, and welcome to my new story, 'Life No. 2' (sorry about the crappy title). I know I should be working on my other fic, but I'm running low on inspiration, and I've had this idea swimming around in my head ever since I finally found the episode where Gaara's past was explained in full.

I don't own 'Naruto' or any of its characters.

'

The day's only just started, and already I know it's going to be bad.

How do I know that? Simple. I'm running on two hours' worth of sleep, I've slept past my alarm, I'm an hour late for school, and I have a test in second period. Does that just about explain it for you?

My stomach gave a loud growl.

…Oh, and I just realized I haven't eaten breakfast, packed a lunch, or taken lunch money either. So I'm going to spend the day exhausted and starving.

…not to mention brain-dead. I just realized I packed my Naruto comics instead of my textbooks. Crap.

I sighed, slowing my mad dash to school and taking out a random Naruto comic instead. Might as well make the best of it and use it as a distraction – anything to keep my mind off the hell that would be my day.

I flipped the comic open to a random page. It was the one where Gaara's past including the whole Yashamaru ordeal was explained. Not exactly the sort of thing one tends to read over and over again as such, but hey – whatever.

Comic book in hand, I began to jog again, my nose buried in the pages. I didn't particularly need to look where I was going – I had a sixth sense for when I was going to run into someone or trip over something or throw myself headfirst into oncoming traffic, courtesy of fourteen years in the big city.

All things considered, it wasn't actually that weird that I didn't notice the surprised shouts and screams that suddenly surrounded me. Or even the loud 'BANG' that sounded suspiciously like a gunshot. Too much TV, I guess. Eventually you get to the point where nothing in the world really surprises you anymore, 'cuz it all just feels like one big plot point in a corny soap opera.

It was only when I realized I was no longer wading through thick crowds that I realized something was wrong and decided to look up.

Of the last four seconds of my life, two were spent wondering what I was seeing.

The third was spent in horrified realization that it was the barrel of a gun I was staring down.

The last was spent with my life flashing before my eyes.

BANG!

I just knew this would be a bad day…

'

Dammit, where the hell am I? Wherever it is, it's not exactly comfortable. In fact, it's small and cramped, and the walls are all squishy and disgusting. I can't breathe very well either… in fact, I don't think I can breathe at all. How the hell am I surviving?

Alright, just relax, now. Consider your options rationally. First of all, what's the last thing you remember?

…the barrel of a gun. Guess that means I'm dead. Well, this doesn't look like heaven. Unless of course it's God's womb like you read about in the bible sometimes, but I really doubt that. Maybe I'm being resurrected or something like in that movie – you know, the one where the babies don't forget their past lives until they're three or four years old, and this creepy old lady tries to figure out if they know the secrets of the universe or not. Maybe it'll be like that!

Suddenly, the walls around me got really tight for some reason.

…what's that noise?

…a scream? Yeah, I think that's it! It's a woman's scream, and it's loud, and it's coming from right below me. Or possibly above me… I think I might be upside-down right now… whatever. Fact of the matter is, there's someone screaming, and it's a woman, and I think it might be my new mommy.

…oh, crap. I guess that means it's time to come out.

Right on cue, the walls gave another spasm. I felt myself beginning to be pushed forward.

I won't go into detail about the hours that followed. I'll say this, though – it may have been awkward and even slightly painful for me, but I can tell you, my new mom had it a hell of a lot worse.

Finally, the umbilical cord was clipped (which hurt like hell, for the record), and I felt them pick me up and put me into some sort of cot. That's weird, I was sort of expecting them to give me to my new mom…

Then, I began to hear this freaky chanting. My mom was still moaning in pain, and I wanted to look around and check if she was alright, but my eyes wouldn't open for some weird reason, so I couldn't do anything but listen for the meantime.

Suddenly, there was a loud whooshing noise, and I felt myself be surrounded by wind… now let me rephrase that with stronger words.

'Fucking hell, that hurt! No frickin' way is that an ordinary wind! Hell, I've got my own little mini-whirlwind here, sand included! OW! Why the hell is it drilling into my stomach, for Christ's sake?! Dammit, I could use a little help over here, you chanting freaks!'

No help came. The chanting freaks just kept on chanting and my mother just kept on screaming… was it my imagination, or was it getting louder?

All of a sudden, there was a deep, rumbling, distinctly evil laugh, echoing all around the room. Finally, the woman I had already come to call 'mother', at least in my head, fell silent. The chanting continued, growing quieter and quieter, until finally it too was silent. All that was left was a hissing, whispering sound, like the sound effects that go with shifting sands sometimes in movies, and the ragged breaths of my mother, growing shallower and shallower.

Again, I was picked up – this time placed in my mother's arms. She felt damp, and she smelled like blood. In fact, everything smelled like blood right now. Poor mother. I was really getting concerned.

Finally, I managed to open my eyes, staring up at the woman. Strangely enough, the eyes I was staring into, apart from being distinctly familiar, were distinctly anime shaped.

I opened my mouth and tried to talk, but all I could manage was a little coo, so instead, I settled for giving her a concerned look.

A man approached from my right. When he spoke, it was in Japanese. I could understand, though – I'd taught myself the language, purely for the reason that all the best web comics tended to be written in Japanese. I didn't have any real experience as of yet, though.

"What are you going to call him?"

…him? Crap, did that mean I was a boy?

Her eyes fluttered shut for a second. I heard the weird sandy noise again and looked to my right, only to be met with the sight of a tendril of sand rising from the floor.

What the…?

"…Gaara," she replied weakly. "His name will be Gaara."

…No frickin' way.

'

Good? Bad? Worth continuing at all? This was written purely out of boredom, thus far (I got out of school four weeks early, so I have the rest of it, plus Christmas holidays, before I go back). Any suggestions, comments or constructive criticism you might have to offer are welcome.

Also, you should know early on that if any romance begins in this fic, it will probably be Yaoi, considering the fact that the main character is a fangirl in a boy's body. In fact, I'd really appreciate your opinion on whether or not there should be any romance at all, and if so, who it should be between.

…by the way, I don't actually have a clue how the ritual is supposed to go, so I just based it on some corny movie interpretation of a sealing ritual. I'm very sorry if it's inaccurate.