Chapter Two
Pint-sized and HungryHer village had surrendered quickly to the sand ninja, and they had moved here, to the desert. Her father had kicked her out as soon as she got here, saying that she was too weak to carry on the family line. She understood, and she was happy that she had the foresight to take her savings with her. She was only fifteen, but she had managed to buy a small restaurant in this strange place. The only one she could afford was an old inn in the worst part of town. She had turned it into a bakery, hoping to support herself until her sand ninja application was accepted.
The venture had wiped out most of her savings, and she had very few customers, due to the crime rate here. Drug pushers and gangs ran the streets here, and she had refused to support them. So they ran off most of her customers. They had already tried to invade her little home/bakery once, but the byakugan-wielding girl had chased them off, many of them licking their wounds. They would be back. After all, they always came back, and she would have to smack them around some more, and probably clean off the obscenities that they had spray-painted on her walls. She also had to check the dumpster out back to make sure it was still in descent repair, and to make sure they hadn't tossed anything in that shouldn't be there. She had seen more than a few purses back to their owners.
She had cleaned the place up nicely, but she wanted to remodel it at some point. However, she simply didn't have the funds to support that undertaking, she could barely afford to feed herself and pay her bills, including the payment for her inn/bakery/home. It was a good thing that she lived there; she wouldn't be able to pay rent for an apartment. All of her troubles were due, again, to two things: the gangs scaring away her customers and the Kazekage taking his time with her application. Stupid politics.
She often wondered what had become of Gaara. She remembered seeing him once, a long time ago, during a visit. That had been long before the destruction of her village, when the Hyuuga clan had acted as ambassadors to the desert nation. She had been twelve at the time. She remembered thinking of him as having a sort of dark, sinister beauty. Like a crimson flower surrounded by poisonous thorns, a sort of 'touch me not' beauty. She never told anyone about that though, and besides, it was only a fleeting sight, from across the room just before he glided out. The interaction lasted only a few seconds, yet it stuck with her.
She had learned a few days after the battle that the demon that changed his mind about killing her was housed within Gaara. She also knew that he had survived the battle. The most unusual thing was that she hadn't seen him here once, and it had been about three months since that incident. The way that the villagers spoke about him made her think that he would keep to himself most of the time, but you would think that she would at least see him in the market from time to time. But no, it was like he was a ghost or something. She was musing about this little fact when she heard something suspicious at her back door.
Gaara was having a rough time. Ever since he had awakened outside of the gates he had been having a rough time. Well, rougher than normal, anyway. He didn't understand why everyone was so mad at him, he had done what they wanted, hadn't he? He had let it out, just like they wanted. Well, actually it had taken control by force, but that was beside the point. They had won the battle, with its help, so why weren't they happy? Why wasn't his father happy? He had done what they wanted!
Yes, he was having a rough time of it. His father was always trying to kill him in one way or another, and that included poisoning his food. It got to the point that he couldn't even buy food anymore, because the villagers wouldn't sell any to him. He had resorted to lurking outside of restaurants, waiting for them to throw out perfectly good food that didn't meet some sort of specification. It was a crime to waste food in such a way, but as long as they kept throwing it out he was able to eat, provided that they didn't catch him and chase him off. Bakeries were the best, because they would throw out whole loaves of bread that was just a little stale.
But it seemed that he would have to leave this relatively safe neighborhood and look elsewhere, because they had started pouring a variety of poisons into the dumpsters. They ranged from rat poisons, to antifreeze, liquids and powders. Evidently his father had finally caught on to his food sources, and was giving the owners a little incentive to help him to get rid of his son. So now he was faced with a dilemma; stay in the safe neighborhood and starve, or risk the more treacherous one and have a chance at something to eat. Neither option looked particularly appealing, and he was scared of the gangs. However, by day five without food he decided to risk it. He would die otherwise.
He kept to the shadows, trying to stay out of sight as much as possible. The less attention he attracted, the better. He sniffed at the air quietly. Somewhere around here was a bakery, he could smell it. After a while he found what he thought was the back entrance. The alley was narrow, but there was a dumpster there. He hopped up on the sides, and was disappointed at first. All he could see was some old boxes. That meant he was going to have to actually get in ad dig around. He hated that; not only did it consume precious energy that he couldn't afford to waste, it also hampered his ability to escape in case he was caught.
A noise pricked his interest, and he swiftly slid down as quietly as he could. There, he could see a figure by the door. It looked like it was trying to break in. Gaara was finding himself torn in two directions. He could wait here for the guy to leave, which would take forever, and there was always the chance that he would get caught by the guy's little friends. Or he could chase the guy off, wasting precious energy, and would surely attract the attentions of the owner, if not the whole neighborhood. That would also be a thankless job, he knew that from experience.
However, the decision was swiftly taken out of his hands, as the door swung open and a very angry girl came after the guy. Well, this didn't bode well at all.
Hinata was angry. This was the third time this week! Why couldn't these guys leave her alone?!
"You there! Beat it, or you'll wind up black and blue!" the guy didn't listen, and instead came after her with a screwdriver. What a moron, she thought as she easily disarmed him and landed a descent amount of blows with her gently fist. Her byakugan blazed in the night, and she could see that there were two intruders in her alley. After a few seconds of being beaten to a pulp by a little girl, the would-be robber took off.
Hinata then turned her attention to the dumpster. She could see a small figure through the metal, far too small to be an accomplice. In fact, it looked like a child. What was a little kid doing out here this late at night?
"I know you're there, come on out!" she waited patiently, but he didn't show. So she went around to get him. What she saw startled her. A pair of green lights were looking back at her. It was eye-shine, like a cat would have, or some other animal. The source leaped up and balanced on the fence, looking down on her with wide eyes.
"Aw, come on down, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. What's a little boy doing out this late at night?" the only reason she could tell it was a boy was from the silhouette. He was clearly frightened. She hoped that, with a little coaxing, the little guy would come down and allow her to take him inside,; it was far too dangerous for a little kid like him to be outside, weird eye-shine or not.
Gaara wasn't sure what to make of this girl. No one ever spoke to him this way. Was it a trick? If so, then what did she want with him? He prepared to leap to the roof and lose her.
"Please wait! Really, I promise I won't hurt you! Come down here, please! It's not safe to be out this late at night!" Gaara faltered. Maybe she was being honest.
"You're not mad at me?"
"Of course not! You didn't do anything wrong! Why would I be mad at you?"
"Everyone's mad at me. No matter what I do, they're always mad at me. Why should you be any different?"
"Well, I am. Do I look mad?"
"N-no…"
"Hey, I have an idea, why don't you come inside and get something to eat. Then we can talk about me not being mad, okay?"
she watched the strange boy hesitate, and for a moment she feared that he would run. But, he finally assented, and came down off the fence. He looked at her warily, but followed her inside. That's when she realized just who her strange guest was. It was Gaara. No one else had hair like that, or that tattoo on his forehead. She had forgotten just how striking his eyes were. But what was he doing as a little boy? He was supposed to be her age!
He looked so lost and forlorn, and it broke her heart. Who would leave a little boy out on the street? And he was so thin! And dirty too.
"Your name is Gaara, yes?" he backed away swiftly, looking at her with wide, frightened eyes.
"Y-yes…"
"My name is Hinata, pleased to meet you, but I must admit, I'm a bit confused. Why are you a little boy? You're supposed to be a little older than me."
"I-I can't remember…It says that my father and a snake did this to me, but I can't remember…"
"A snake? Orochimaru, perhaps?" that guy was a snake with legs, and it would be just like him to mess up someone's life just for kicks. Gaara gave a hesitant nod, and looked away.
"Umm, who is 'It' exactly?" he looked at her in shock.
"You know, It. Of course you know It, you have to know It, everyone knows about It." He looked at her in confusion. How could she not know about It?
"Do you mean that demon sealed up inside you?" he nodded, and prepared either to fight or run for his life.
"The demon talks to you?" another hesitant nod.
"Huh, I think I may have met him, when my village was destroyed. I think he meant to squish me. He changed his mind, though, I hope." She looked at him hopefully. Becoming a pancake was not on her wish list.
"I dunno, he didn't say anything…" what else could he tell her? No one has ever quite responded in this way, and it was rather confusing to him.
"Well, enough about that. Let's go get you cleaned up, then you can eat, okay?"
That was the first good idea he had heard all day.