Pureness
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
AN: Those of you who have read my other Gaara/Hinata fanfic, you know that having Hinata stutter is the most annoying thing in the world. So, I'm not going to do it the same as that. Don't worry. Also, I'm leaving for Boston tomorrow and won't be back until late Friday. Don't expect some updates for a while. Sorry! It's not my choice to go. Enjoy!
Hinata stared at Gaara. He was a demon, was he not? He had come to Konoha nearly five years ago and almost killed Lee. Then, he had tried to kill Naruto and Sasuke. He was emotionally unstable. He had become the Kazekage. Three years ago, he had been captured by the Akatsuki and had his demon removed. He had died, but brought back to life. That was the last she had heard of him.
Gaara mentally smirked as he saw fear enter her eyes. How predictable. He could go and save a life and he was still feared. Everyone did the same thing. He let go of her small hand and crossed his arms. He stared at her with such intensity that almost made her wilt in front of him.
Hinata wanted to get away from him, but knew she couldn't. It would be pointless to run away from a demon. He would just come back and haunt her. Once a demon had something that they liked, they would never let it go. Their claws would be stained with blood if their belonging tried to resist them. They would kill their belonging just to retain control of it.
"Why did you call me an angel?" Hinata asked softly, her pearly eyes gentling meeting his.
"Isn't that what you are?" Gaara asked coolly. "You have marks on your back that look like wings."
"I do?" Hinata wondered aloud. She twisted her head and activated her Byakugan. Sure enough, there were black marks on her shoulder blades. They did look a lot like wings Hinata had to admit. "I do."
"How did you get them?" Gaara asked. Hinata looked up in surprise, but answered, "I don't know. But, I'm not angel."
"You're not?" Gaara asked, disbelieving. "You look like one. And you have 'wings.'"
"The only angel I could possibly be would be angel of death," Hinata said, smiling bitterly.
"Why would that be?" Gaara asked. "You don't look like you could kill a bug, let alone a shinobi."
"I was always sent on dangerous missions as the medic-ninja. Usually, some shinobis would be deathly injured and I'd have to put them out of their misery. I hated the battlefields the most. All the shinobis called me 'Angel of Mercy', saying I looked like an angel. I did show them mercy. I killed them," Hinata said, her small, pale hands curling into fists.
Gaara watched her with more interest. She looked so pure and, yet, she had killed. But, she did not kill as he had. She killed because it was necessary. He had killed for the sake of killing. He had chosen for his hands to be stained by blood. She had had no choice. They were so different.
"I assume you did not like killing?" Gaara asked.
"Of course—" Hinata began, but stopped when she met his eyes. She could tell him the truth and he would think none the less of her. So, softly she said, "Most of the time. There were a few times, when I-I liked it. I had become so numb, and the killing reminded me that I was alive."
Gaara didn't say anything. She didn't have a choice, but she began like it. Maybe they weren't so different. There was still the fact that he was a demon and she an angel, no matter how much she tried to deny it. Destined to fight each other for all eternity. He brought death and she brought life. Exact opposites.
Hinata trailed off into silence. She wasn't sure if she should say anything more. He must know of the odd thrill that killing brought. The exhilaration. The joy mixed with melancholy. Hinata didn't like to remember the killings she had done. Those had been during a bad time for her.
"An angel has to be pure. Unsullied. I'm neither of those things. I've killed. I can't be an angel."
"You're purer than I am."
"I am not without sins. I cannot be pure." This argument was not getting Hinata anywhere.
"You are pure, nonetheless. No one can be completely without faults."
Hinata rubbed her eyes tiredly. Of course a demon would be good at arguing. Of course he would give her a little taste of hell. "Fine."
Gaara smirked. He could be good at arguing sometimes. Usually he would threaten death. But, if he didn't, he was good at arguing a point. He could beat Temari now. That had taken a lot of practice, but he had done it.
Thinking of the devil, Temari entered the infirmary, followed closely by Kankuro. They looked grim and angry. Gaara supposed they had gotten into another argument. He hoped that they wouldn't take it out on Hinata. She was just as delicate as a piece of glass. A beautiful, delicate angel. His angel.
AN: I know that this chapter is shorter than the others, but it took me longer than the other two. I don't know why. I think it's because I was trying to write in the same style, but wasn't reaching it exactly. I'm still not sure if I got it right.
