He rocked slowly back and forth on the swing, head lowered and amber eyes glazed over. Pakura had gone on a mission again, she was only going to be gone until tomorrow and had already made food and left it in the fridge for him... but he didn't like being alone in any case.

A shadow blocked the sun from his face and he slowly looked upwards, dazed expression still etched into his face. The chains holding the swing in the air were grabbed on either side of his head, halting the movement.

Azuya's eyes widened when he realized that it was him, the boy that all the other kids all ran away from, the demon child. Icy turquoise eyes stared into his, seemingly calculating every expression on his face.

The sand under the boy's feet seemed to shuffle and shift without any wind. He had heard that this boy was responsible for all those people that died in the village recently, the ones that were horribly crushed and mangled.

He had never been out when one of those rampages would happen, Pakura would make sure he stayed inside when she went to help. Was this boy going to kill him? He should have been paying more attention; the boy always came here this time every day.

Now he was caged between two arms and the sand beneath his own feet seemed to shift threateningly with the will of the boy.

"H-hi," he mumbled softly, silently berating himself for stuttering so uncharacteristically in front of him. The boys eyes widened and he let go of the swing, taking a small step backwards, shocked.

Azuya's bottom lip quivered, did he say something wrong? The boy was definitely going to kill him now.

But somehow the boy just looked at him.

"Azuya-chan, run quickly!" He heard a girl that was in his academy class call from across the play ground. He took one last glance at the boy before he rose to his feet and ran, straight past the disappointed girl and all the way to his house.

He went onto his tippy toes and unlocked the apartment door, closing it with a click behind him as he took his shoes off.

He walked to the kitchen, bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor. He was too young to be left at home like this, only six years old and he could barely even reach the handle to open the fridge, or the door for that matter.

He smiled when he saw his favourite rice balls resting in a container in the fridge, some vegetables and fish packed separately into the side.

You would think he could just not eat the vegetables like he wanted to but Pakura would kill him, she already knew all his hiding places for the undesirable food he was given, even though some of them were very creative and clever.

He had even gone as far as to bury them but they were found almost immediately. Pakura was like a mom on steroids, he would even go as far as to say Supermom but she didn't stay at home nearly enough to be called that.

He used the small step that was in the corner of the room and used it to place the food on the table and climb up onto the dining room chair like Pakura had taught him to do. He always ate at the table, even when he was alone; it made him feel as though he wasn't.

He ate in silence, glancing up to the ticking clock on the wall every few minutes. It was already six in the evening.

He climbed off the chair and walked outside to the yard, grabbing a set of kunai on the way.

There were a set of targets hung at different angles and points on tall logs that had been dug into the ground, hard mud holding them in place. He hated this place, it was too hot and dry and he always felt completely out of sync with the climate.

He knew he wasn't going to hit any of the targets but he gave it his best shot anyway, he was horrible with long range weapons.

Log. Log. Log. Log. Ground. Log.

Nothing. He hit nothing again. He walked up to the logs and collected all the kunai he could reach.

He growled in frustration and fell back onto the sandy ground, kunai clattering to the ground around him and small grains of sand clinging to his glistening white hair.

Why couldn't he get it right? How hard could it possibly be to actually hit one of the targets?

Rising to his feet, he dusted the sand off of his pants and back and ruffled his hair, ridding himself of most of the sand.

He collected the kunai and shoved them back into his pouch before going inside and dropping them onto the counter. He felt parched again and walked into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of orange juice before downing it in one shot.

He just hated this place so much, he liked Pakura but other than her he had nobody to confide it. Everyone in the academy only cared about surpassing each other; like it was a race and none of the other boys liked him because the girls in their class always had their attention on him.

He furrowed his brows, lips pressing together in a thin line; he didn't even like any of the girls. He hated this place. Hated it.

A crackling noise bit through the air and he stared down at the glass in his hand in shock before it fell to the tiled kitchen floor with a crash. Bits of glass and ice lay scattered across the tiles, Azuya just staring at his hand with the most foreign expression on his face.

Ice. The glass had just frozen over. Frozen over in his hand. He may only have been six but he knew for a fact that that was not normal. What was that anyway?

He traced a finger over the palm of his hand and gasped at the unnaturally icy temperature. What should he do? Should he tell Pakura? He knew she wasn't really his mom, she had always insisted he call her Pakura but where exactly did he come from?

He stepped over the glass on the floor and grabbed the hand broom and dust tray from the cupboard, impassively brushing the glass and ice into a pile and throwing it into the trash bin. Pakura wasn't going to be happy that he dropped a glass but he would have to just tell her he tripped.

He didn't like lying but he had a bad feeling about telling anyone what happened.

He walked upstairs and ran himself a bath in the tub more than twice his size, filling it almost to the top in cold water before eagerly climbing in.

He wasn't allowed to bath in cold water when Pakura was home but he absolutely loved it, the cool feeling that engulfed his skin and the way he could dip his whole body under the water and stare at his water distorted hands until he had to surface for breath.

He wasn't allowed to fill the bath this much either because she was scared he would drown but he didn't care, he would live in this bath forever if he could.

He stayed in the bath until he heard the clock chime the first time, Seven and then the next time eight.

He crawled over to the front of the bath and pulled the plug, watching the water slowly drain with interest, left over sand sticking to the bottom. He turned on the hand shower and cleaned the last remnants of sand away before he climbed out and wrapped a fluffy white towel around himself.

He had a hard time getting to sleep that night, his teddy clutched to his chest but young mind mulling over the events that had happened to him. The scary boy that everyone avoided confronting him and then why the thing that happened with the glass happened.

He eventually fell into a fitful sleep that seemed endless.

He was running through the street in his pajamas, eyes teary and teddy dangling limply from his one hand. He could hear the slow calculated steps of the person he was running from.

He didn't understand, he was running as fast as he could and he just couldn't gain any distance, even though the person was walking at such a slow pace. No it wasn't a person, it was something a lot worse than that.

Then suddenly the street he was running on was replaced with an alleyway, a dead end appearing right in front of him. He stopped in his tracks and turned to face the person with an expression of horror etched into his face. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape he took a step backwards, tears trailing hotly down his cheeks.

Sand. Hot grainy sand trailed up his legs, twisting and constricting, pinning him against the alley wall. He wanted to scream, to call out but no sound would surface from him, not a sob, a scream or even a whimper. The only sound was the rough rustling of sand and his own raspy breathing.

Icy turquoise eyes watched him calmly from the shadows before stepping out in front of him, an unnaturally twisted smirk on his face. And then a single finger traced up Azuya's cheek, lifting a warm tear in front of icy eyes and watching it run down his finger before his arm dropped back to his side and his eyes focused on Azuya again.

He was so terrified that even if he had the ability to speak he was sure he wouldn't. Blood red hair shimmered in the light of the full moon and irises flashed gold systematically and then back to turquoise.

And then a maddening Howl was released into the biting night air.

He woke up with a start, shivering body covered in sweat and breathing panicked and shallow. His room was draped in darkness and he was too scared to even move an inch, all alone in the house.

He breathed slowly. In... Out... In... Out. He was only just starting to calm down when he heard the same maddening howl ring from somewhere outside, through the impenetrable darkness and a terrified tremble racked his body, eyes wide and teddy hugged tightly into his chest.

The next morning he walked to the academy, backpack swung over one shoulder and other hand casually resting in one pocket. He stopped in his tracks when he turned into a street, the smell of death wafting into his nostrils. Mangled bodies lay twisted unnaturally on the side of the street, security tape was drawn from one side of the street to the other and the disgusted faces of the people moving the bodies was carved into his memory.

He covered his mouth horrified and turned away, running until he got to the academy gates and stopping only to catch his breath. That time it was only a street away from his, way to close for comfort.

Why were those people on the street? They should know never to go outside on the night of a full moon.

He walked into class and sat at his usual seat, at the back and by the window, the sensei was already sitting behind his desk and the other children were just starting to file in.

"Azuya-kun can I sit here?" a girl asked, large brown eyes hopeful and a large happy smile plastered onto her face. How can she smile like that after what he just saw? It was wrong, it was worse than wrong.

How can they just act like nothing happened and chatter and smile and laugh? He gritted his teeth and turned his face away from her, linking his hands together and resting his chin atop them.

"No," was his blunt response, venom dripping from the single word. The girl's smile faltered and her breath caught in her throat before she turned away and ran to sit with the rest of her friends.

Those friends seemed to glare daggers at him for the rest of the day, one or two of them faltering and giving him a small smile in spite of themselves.

The end of the day came and he pulled his books into his bag, dragging his backpack back onto his shoulder before he proceeded to walk out the door. He walked back to the playground that he went to every day only just getting to the gate before he heard a voice.

"What you said to Ami-chan was mean!" A boy called from behind him. He ignored it and continued to walk forward until a hand grabbed onto his shoulder and he snapped.

The hand was grabbed and the boy was thrown over his shoulder, landing hard on the ground in front of him.

"Don't touch me!" Azuya snarled, walking passed the shocked boy and straight towards the swings. He hated them. Hate may be a strong word for a six year old to use but he did. He didn't belong here, nor did he want to.

The swing was in the corner of the playground, and today he was the only one here, everyone went home early on a Friday with their parents. He sat on the swing and grabbed onto the chain, a familiar crackling noise sounding through the air.

He immediately pulled his hands away from the chains and stared at them in shock. What the hell was happening to him? This was not normal.

"You," a voice called from behind him. He turned around and nearly fell of the swing when he saw it was the same boy from the day before and his nightmare.

He stumbled off and wrapped his icy hands around his upper arms, why was the boy here? It was still early and he had planned to leave before he came today, so why was he here?

He knew that boy had seen what he did to the swing and he didn't know what to do, would that boy tell his father? What if they killed him for it or something?

He grabbed his backpack from the floor and threw it over his shoulder before running across the playground for a second day in a row, this time however he did not make it to the gate before sand wrapped around his ankle and knocked him onto his back, his back pack falling to the ground beside him.

He was definitely going to die this time. He lay on his back, his arms flat on the ground on either side of him.

The boy walked next to his head and dropped to his haunches, cold eyes staring down at him impassively. The boy grabbed him around his wrist and lifted it in front of his face, tracing a couple fingers over the surface of his palm.

"Interesting," Was the only comment he got before his hand was released and sand uncoiled from his ankle, the boy walking away without another word.

That was when he remembered the name of the boy. He had asked Pakura about the boy before, curiosity getting the better of him. He wouldn't avoid someone or something just because everyone else did; he needed a valid and logical reason.

Gaara, only to love yourself.

Hope you guys liked the start to this, it will be a slow progressing Yaoi because I have never written something like this before and I need to get myself into the characterizations. Please let me know what you guys think ^^ also I am rating this as T for now, but will probably change it to M later.