A/N: I have been sitting on this idea for quite some time and I hope that those of you who read it will like it. This is also my attempt at writing two separate fics at roughly the same time so be forewarned of that. I know the summary was weak and I am sorry for that. Please enjoy though. This is going to be OC/Gaara and yes it is a bit like those 'a fan gets dropped in their favorite anime' but give it a chance eh?
Kankuro wasn't exactly sure why he was doing this for his brother. Sure it was a mission, and being the first ninja to be intentionally sent to the Spirit Away Dimension had a certain amount of prestige, but still.
The Spirit Away Dimension. It had been years, but since the end of the war various shinobi from each of the five great nations had been disappearing only to reappear several days later. Stories from these shinobi, shared amongst the allied forces, told of a vast, sprawling village with buildings taller than those in Amegakure and carriages that moved without being pulled by beasts of burden clogging the road.
It seemed like a fantasy to the puppet user. A story told to little kids; a waking dream. But the five Kage had taken an interest in this other world. That only increased when a young man from the Hyuuga clan got Spirited roughly a year ago. The young man had reported that the majority of the village's unbelievably large population had barely any chakra; just enough to function in fact. He mentioned though, that there were people amongst the civilians who had drastically stronger amounts. Among them were individuals whose chakra flared as if some passive ability was firing off.
There had been talk since then of possible Bloodlines.
With this information came a rift in the Kage alliance; briefly. While the Raikage, Tsuchikage, and Mizukage felt that these potential bloodlines should be brought back by any means necessary and analyzed, the Kazekage and the Hokage both merely wished to make contact peacefully. One thing they could all agree on was that contact should be made. And so, a certain chakra fueled device was constructed with the aid of the Sharingan users of Konoha, who had put some study into the Kumai ability of the Mangekyo Sharingan, which would allow for travel to this other dimension.
The decision on which village would make first contact had been rough. Mifune, of the neutral Samurai faction, had been called in to help deliberate and things had gone downhill from there. After several days of arguing the Kazekage, Kankuro's younger brother, Gaara, stepped out of the race saying that even with all the tension, any one of the villages would be adequate ambassadors to this world.
Mifune, impressed by this, had decided that Suna should be chosen to send a representative. The Kazekage had chosen after a bit of deliberation to send Kankuro. So here he was. Kankuro knew he could have refused, after all, the device that sent him here was not perfect; it was dangerous. He could have died. But Gaara had such hope for this world. Kankuro wanted to help him hold out a hand to them. Gaara was his little brother after all.
And so there the puppet user stood, disoriented and put off, looking up at skyscrapers and cars though he didn't know that that was what they were called. He wasn't very good at discerning chakra. He wasn't the sensory type. This had been taken into account, but Kankuro had still been chosen. With that in mind he set off in a random direction, seeking a large building to get out of the cold.
It was snowing out. The small flakes, each more unique than the people they fell upon, would land and pile up; clustering into drifts and banks only to be plowed aside by trucks and shovels. The pure white snow would be tainted and darkened, grayed to the color and consistency of sludge by the pollution of the ever busy New York City. It was not the snows fault. It was merely the future set in stone by an ever evolving present. The snow had been damned; it fell in civilization after all, not a mountain or meadow.
Such thoughts were atypical when the world looked like a slightly dirty, upended snow globe but it had been that way for some time. My thoughts were no longer as they used to be. But then again, who wouldn't question their own thoughts when therapists to teachers, even family, doubted how in sync with reality they were.
This was not one of those works of fiction I pored over to escape. There was no magic, no dragons and their slayers, no knights, no ninja. And above all else, there was no way for someone to glimpse the future in their dreams. No matter how badly they desired it. However, when it was like this, the city enveloped in the dancing snow making everything seem quiet even though it was still as noisy as ever, I remembered that last dream.
In all actuality it wasn't my last dream; I woke up each morning with the feeling that I had dreamed, after all everyone dreams. But it was the last dream I could remember having. For some time after this realization I told myself the dream was real, that perhaps it meant something. But those thoughts had passed years ago. It was only times like these that I allowed myself the memory; when the snow drifted in nostalgic reminiscence of the sand that parted to reveal a carefully guarded face.
In a way, that dream was reassuring; a beacon that things could change, even though I long ago gave up on the concept of a man who could use sand to protect himself. In another way, it reaffirmed the shaky conviction that I was, in fact, insane.
It isn't that I fell in love with that man. Whoever he was I didn't know him from Adam and, even in a dream, I was no believer in love at first sight. It was more a sense of security. It was the feeling that the world could be going to Hell in a hand basket and even if he couldn't stop that descent he could make Hell itself into a sanctuary.
My therapist, for years, has been telling me such dreams are just cries from the subconscious for someone to make me feel safe and comfortable. A rock. She has been working with me to consider myself my own comfort.
My friends, however, tell me that my therapist is a bat shit crazy loon more full-of-it than a spokesperson for an endorsed advertisement. It is true that they may just be feeding me nonsense. They may be egging me on. But when we are face to face, my friends profess their belief in me.
Their belief in me; such a rare and difficult thing to come by. It made me want to be sure of myself, my words and my actions. The seemingly important things I think of when it snows. That was my thought right before this tiny snow globe world of mine was shaken, completely upended when, without warning the silence was broken.
The sound of an argument outside made me pause the anime I watched on my desktop. To be honest it was one of many such shows that I was already very familiar with. One of my friends, a smiling and motherly woman named Minnie, told me I would enjoy it. I don't know why I listened to her since I was normally doing my own thing, but some time into the first series of the two a young man was introduced who had red hair and protected himself with sand.
He wasn't the main focus of the story and had very little screen time on either series but watching this anime Minnie found for me made me calm and even if I didn't actively think about that last dream without the snow falling, the warm feeling was nice.
I was watching the episode where said red head fights the titular character of the show, Naruto before the sound of the woman who ran my boarding house screeching at some poor unfortunate at the top of her lungs in a shrill, coma inducing voice caught my attention.
I, as a rule, don't get involved with peoples' problems. Last thing anyone needs is some random chick coming up and getting nosey about things that don't have anything to do with her. The last thing my therapist needs is for me to rail on about someone else's problems for our weekly half hour session. The last thing I need is a headache.
But that strange thing happened. It's something that, to the best of my knowledge, doesn't happen to 'normal' people. Not like this. It was like déjà vu but stronger. Almost like something in my mind was seeing an event that wasn't happening. Like that portion was sectioned off and processing on its own. Somehow I could still function when this happened. I could still see with my eyes and hear with my ears. So with one set of ears I heard the Manager screaming at whoever was on the stoop and Mrs. Whittiker's dog down on the second floor barking away. With the ears that didn't exist I heard my own feet pounding down the stairs, the creak of the door as I pulled it open and the howl of snow-laden wind blowing past my face.
Most of the time I let this feeling pass. Even in situations where I could really make a difference I remained far removed from anyone else's problems, no matter what they were. How would I explain to someone, even if I just saved their life, how I knew what was going on or how to help? I had walked past more dire problems than a homeless guy needing a place to stay.
Knowing this, why were my feet still moving? I could hear the conversation before it even happened. I knew exactly the right responses to make. A flick of the wrist, a roll of the eyes. For the first time in my life, I just went along with the prompts and visions in my head and things worked out. Now, a full ten minutes later, some guy I had called Kuro in front of the manager was perched on the edge of my couch. He didn't look too worried about anything but I could imagine how freaked out he was considering some random girl just claimed to be his cousin.
"If that's the regular reaction to some crazy lady with a broom yelling at me I feel like I could get to like this place." He said after a decent length of time.
"First time in New York?" I asked thinking casual conversation was better than, 'Why the hell are you helping me?' When he hesitated I asked instead, "Or just new in general?" A lot of people came to the city for a fresh start.
"I'm not from around here," He hedged.
"Well, I guess it doesn't matter where you're from or what your circumstances are, I still shouldn't let you freeze to death in a blizzard. I figure you can stay here up to three days, or at least that's what my contract says about visitors, so just sorta get comfy till this storm blows over." I felt like such an idiot for even suggesting it. Who invites a random stranger into their home for 'up to' three days? I was going to get killed in my sleep and this guy was going to be wearing a Harper skin suit.
The guy just looked at me, probably still curious to whether people were usually this accommodating in New York, so I added, "And no, people generally aren't this helpful anywhere." After a pause I added, more to seem slightly dangerous with the whole crazy factor, "It's snowing. I tend to do reckless crazy things in the snow such as helping a guy of questionable origin and history for no other reason than a memory that should be out of my head by now." Not only was it true, it probably made me seem sufficiently crazy to avoid a knife between my ribs.
The guy didn't seem bothered by it though. He must either be a real go with the flow kinda person or he had read one too many Mary-Sue fanfics. That or he was going to kill me anyway. It was really up in the air.
I had never done this before though. I had never helped someone, let alone letting a random stranger into my apartment. I had never gone along with the stupid hallucinations that seemed to pop up in crisis. All throughout my childhood I thought I was a super hero; that I had powers that could change the world. That only lasted until the real world caught up with me. I told my mother about the dreams I had when I was ten. She told me they were just dreams. After I began to insist that I really could see things about the future when I slept she got me help.
After another ten years, when I was twenty, the sporadic hallucinations began to crop up. I still hadn't told anyone about them but it was like when my adrenaline or sometimes just my interest was piqued I could almost see a step ahead of everything while still taking note of everything going on at the actual time. It was disorienting at first but over time I was able to adjust and live with it.
The guest I seemed to have acquired was gazing rather intensely at my computer; the screensaver was flashing picture after picture every ten seconds. There were some pictures on there of certain anime characters that would give the wrong impression of me though so I walked over and shook the mouse.
"I was just watching an old episode of Naruto if you want. It's subbed though so, unless you know Japanese you'll have to read."
"Naruto?" His voice was incredibly serious all of a sudden and I couldn't place why so instead I just explained the premise of the show.
"It's an anime…I guess you could say kind of like a cartoon from Japan though really that's kinda lame. The main character of the story is a ninja from this made up place called Konoha. Tells all about him, his life, his friends, there's this war in the second half of the series, Naruto Shippuden…think Shippuden means generations or something. This episode is about something called the Chuunin exams, which helps determine who deserves a promotion. Anyway, the main character is fighting someone named Gaara and… ah well, listen to me ramble. If you wanna watch that's cool if not sorry I won't be too entertaining." The guy stared at me like he was in a state of shock so I thought to reassure him. "It's obviously all make believe and fiction. Can you imagine ninja being real?"
With that last comment I moved my chair a bit and hit the space bar so that the scene of Naruto freaking out about thinking of something with claws and fangs began to play. We ended up watching several episodes that night. In fact, Kuro, whose name I still didn't ask, was so enthralled that I taught him how to use the computer so he could watch further as I fell asleep. I had both series downloaded in full so far so it would at least keep him busy.
Before I fell into oblivion I told him in a slightly loud voice, "I have to go to a friend's house for lunch tomorrow if you'd like. She has no problem with strangers and will feed you too." Without hearing a response I zonked out. Really, saving people was exhausting.
Kankuro just sat there. He watched more and more of the 'anime' as the large girl sleeping a few feet away called it. It was astounding to think that this dimension had any information on his home. It was perplexing though. He looked to the last little picture on the screen. She said something about a file and a folder and none of it really made sense…but having watched that …episode… It didn't show the end of the war.
Somehow he didn't think things would be this easy. The girl, when she showed up, was burning through chakra as some seemingly passive ability continued to fire off and now, as she slept her chakra was being molded again. He wasn't sure why. He did know that it meant she had a Bloodline. He even had a timeline. Three days. He had to convince this woman to come with him in three days.
A/N Review if you like, it will help me to decide which fic i will be focusing more on and also let me know how this is.