And we're back with more!

Fast, huh? Hopefully, it's fast and good.

The relationship between Babak and Gaara was a pretty simple one, yet one his siblings found hard to understand. Gone was the onerous, sullen child they had known for so long, now replaced with a brother with a still silent, but thoughtful and vibrant demeanor. All because of this strange, foreign-looking boy whose only legitimate possession was the sword he strapped to his back.

When Gaara had first introduced him to them, the first thing they'd noticed was that both looked like they'd headbutted a coal scuttle. Next, they noticed the two were almost synchronistic in their movement and almost preternaturally aware of each other, no matter what the other was doing. It was, frankly, both frightening and confusing.

Playing games was something the Wind Shadow's children didn't do that much together, but they picked it up well enough, now that Gaara wasn't frightened to move from a particular spot for fear of "something happening". Of course, now that his temper was under control, that wasn't too much of a problem.

The problem that replaced this, however, was that putting Gaara and his first ever playmate on the same team was the worst idea ever. Not for the two of them, no, but for Kankuro and Temari, it was a losing proposition.

Kicking around the football between the four of them meant that it near immediately became a game exclusively between Gaara and the ragamuffin unless one of the other siblings was able to intercept before the tallest one of the group got the ball.

Guessing games weren't fun when the other team's members always knew what the other teammate was thinking.

Hide and Seek was fun for a while, until Gaara and Babak decided to team up again and terrorize the other two children playing.

At the end of the day, Gaara's siblings were exhausted. Not only exhausted, but strangely content. After having such a depressing atmosphere in their family life, with their father being so removed and Gaara such an emotional mess, it was…nice…to have a brother they could have fun with. Perhaps they'd never beat the tag team from Hell, but it was far-and-away better than the alternative.

The feel-good times did not last, however, when Gaara decided to show off his new friend to his father.

Who hated him.

The Wind Shadow hardly ever showed his face anymore, due to his constant work to rearrange the village budget to fit within the increasingly strangling confines of the decadent Lord of Wind's allowance, as well as seeing to the moderation of standards and admissions within the village military. If he wasn't already mad with hatred of his youngest son, he'd have been driven insane by the insurmountable odds his despot of a lord had saddled him with.

The Village Hidden in the Sand ran on two things: militarism and mercantilism. Much like any other Hidden Village. Unfortunately, the imbecilic Lord of the Land of Wind had overtaxed every business in Sand Village and imposed a ridiculous tariff which required an obscene bleeding of funds for every rank in the Sand army, and a second tariff if they were trained or training in the arts of assassination and intrigue…like the Wind Shadow's subordinates were.

Thus, that regal imbecile had effectively suffocated any chance of the Wind Shadow focusing on building the strength of Wind, rather than just barely maintaining what was already there. What was worse, Wind's Lord was not using the funds acquired from raping his own country to productive ends like developing new settlements within the currently inhospitable climes of the Land of Wind or plotting out mines and dig sites to help increase the flow of interest in revenue and population. Instead, all this money was being funneled into a debauched lifestyle that squandered the Land of Wind's tax money in the most economically horrifying way possible. It was almost impossibly infuriating- that is, it was nearly impossible how infuriating this situation was to the ruling Wind Shadow.

His whole job at this point was maintaining this ridiculous juggling act in tandem with Hidden Sand's Civic Court, which had long since put aside differences in politics, as did the Wind Shadow, to keep the Village Hidden in the Sand from collapsing into obscurity and ruin.

As such, it did not do well to interrupt the Wind Shadow in the middle of keeping the whole world from collapsing. Especially not with tedious concerns. Especially if those concerns were not voiced by a person of import. Especially if those concerns were voiced by the village's fledging monster, his youngest son, and the killer of his wife.

So it was likely the Wind Shadow was going to commit infanticide any second now that his much-beloathed son Gaara was interrupting his busy work with some new plaything. But, like as he was to murder this obstruction, he still had his scruples and would stand by them until said obstruction said the exact wrong thing.

"Father…" the demon said, quavering with what had to be guilt, "…I would like to introduce you to a friend of mine…"

The Wind Shadow and father of this small tormentor breathed a sigh laced with tiredness and hatred. "I do not have time for these idiotic games; I have a country to run."

"But- father…" the pale-eyed creature's beguiling countenance contorted into a pitiful face, but was ruined by the hideous darkness around its eyes, much to it's father's relief. "It's the wild boy."

The Wind Shadow would feel the vein in his temple throbbing tremendously. "If it's to be a distraction from my work, it's to be a destructive distraction," he pinched the bridge of his nose, and then dropped his hand to rest on his desk, "So; you've made acquaintance with this village's primary nuisance."

The veiled man rifled through the "Completed" stack of paperwork, and produced several forms. He stood up, moving to the front of the desk, and leaned back on it, making sure not to bump into anything on it.

"The same nuisance," he began, a slight growl in his voice, "who leeches off of the village bakeries, public and private, twice every second day."

The Wind Shadow slipped the top page back onto the desk. "Steals the drying laundry of random civilians in the main quarter of the village…"

Flick. "Creates general civil unrest by carrying a weapon…"

Flick. "Commits the crime of vagrancy across the village. Tourism here is bad enough as it is…"

Flick. "Increases the workload of the already overworked public medical facilities by physically assaulting various lower-tier civilians."

Flick. "Intimidates the village guard, most frequently during the night shifts."

Flick. "Molests the feminine portion of the population- wait, I didn't approve this article."

Crumple. Toss. "And creating general unrest in the population and disturbing the peace."

The Wind Shadow stood up, walking closer to Gaara, unenthused. "Not to mention-"

He brandished the last sheet of paper in his hand. "-he stole from a foreign perfumer a stock of ingredients coming to a total of 172 ryo."

The veiled man took the paper and went back to put it on his desk- forcefully. He turned to face his son, taking slow, steady steps toward it. "Ryo. Not yen. Not wu. Not lire. Not even drachmas. Ryo."

He stood two paces away from the thing at that point, and thus stopped. Gaara's father looked down on Gaara, eyes frozen in an unsympathetic glare. "That is expensive. That is a lot of money. Money this village needs."

Gaara shook slightly, understanding the implications. He knew the suffering of the village on a personal level. People already in foul moods due to not having enough money to eat properly or bathe regularly, forced to bear undignified lifestyles, had no room in their hearts or pity to spare for a monster like him, if they would have any at all in the first place.

"You should understand, Gaara, that the 'wild boy', who cannot be proven, is immediately applicable to this village. Anything he breaks, I have to fix. Anything he steals, I have to pay for. Anybody he offends, I have to listen to. I have to reimburse every merchant he lifts merchandise from."

The Wind Shadow sighs tiredly.

"Most of the merchants that set up shop in this village are foreign. They pay for the rental space, which is in fairly low demand, they sell goods and pay for the few we have to offer them. It's worked out well enough, although some merchants gouge their prices so ridiculously I'm tempted to have them run out.

"And then when they're stolen from, regardless of who the hell did it, it becomes 'wild boy' and I have to dig into the village coffers to give back the money we made off these people. I've been able to keep the village problem from becoming a common excuse to scam the entire village, but it's 'genuine incidents' like these that make my work on this problem more difficult than it already is.

"I have more serious problems to worry about.

"But, more to the point, you come to me to present the second thing I least want to see. Foremost being, of course…"

Gaara felt very small at that moment, and very alone.

"I do not plan to waste my time with additional anxiety."

"But-"

Gaara's father turned his back on him, making his way back to his desk.

"Leave."

"I think-"

He turned around, now at the side of his desk, and pointed at the door behind Gaara.

"Leave."

"He's-"

"Leave now," the Wind Shadow commanded, pulling out his desk chair, "This is the last time I give you an audience."

"But it's the first time you have, father," the young medium said, pleading. "I'm asking you to listen to me."

"I'm not listening to you, I'm telling you to leave. Now."

Gaara bowed his head and left it hanging, turned, and exited the door, now defeated.

The Wind Shadow sighed, looking over his work. His mind was unfocused, now that his unwanted, unneeded son had interrupted him.

For a moment, it was almost as if Gaara had spoken with his wife's voice.

'I'm asking you to listen to me.'

He sighed again, taking off his headdress and running his hand across his shaven head. The father of Gaara grimaced, breathed in deeply, and exhaled.

"Baki. Bring him back. And get the walking toe rag, too."

"So this is your friend," commented the newly uncapped Wind Shadow, glancing over the pile of tatty rags and dirt standing in his office, "I'm not impressed…"

"He's a lot better than he looks, father," said Gaara, defensive, "Want him to show you?"

"No, thank you; I like my stationary and sundry possessions where they are." The shaven man sniffed.

"I don't mean stealing, father, I mean fighting. He's really good."

The Wind Shadow raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You can attest to this, personally?"

"Yes; I fought him myself!"

"You do realize, as the container of the spirit within you," Gaara's father drawled, "that you are, essentially, the village's property, yes?"

"Uhm…"

"Your 'friend' is committing an act of treason. Or he would be if he was a civilian. As is, he's an illegal alien. Testifiably an invader on the village's military tribunal. Attacking you, then, would be an act of war. Where is your 'friend' from? I'm sure his people will be thrilled when I bring their war to them."

"Um…" Gaara looked up at his friend, who was standing fairly still despite the implications. "Where are you from?"

"Persia," the scruffy boy said confidently.

"Perusha…" the Wind Shadow echoed, steepling his hands and examining his thumbnails "Where is this Perusha, friend of my son?"

"I don't know, father of Gaara," the ragamuffin replied.

"What direction did you come from?"

"Er…Up, I think…"

"Up? What direction is 'up'? Don't you know the four directions?"

"East, North, South, West? I do know them."

The shaved man squeezed his hands. "Yes, so how did you get here and from where?"

"Up. I fell."

"Oh my ffuu-" Gaara's father buried his face in his hands.

Baki, standing by quiet for so long, stepped forward respectfully, bowing slightly and saying, "I do believe he is being sincere, Lord Wind Shadow."

The addressed peeked up from his hands. "How so?"

"The story that the gate guards told claimed that the wild boy fell down in a comet."

"I'll have to take this fairy story on faith, I suppose…" the shaven man grumbled, scratching his scalp. "What else is new?"

The Wind Shadow put down his hands with a thump. "Alright, so he's from 'Perusha', he fell from 'up', and he's somehow not dead from falling from the sky into the desert in a fireball. Am I correct so far?"

"Yes," said the Persian sky-baby.

"Fine, then. What is your name, Perusha boy?"

"I go by 'Babak'."

"'Babaku'? Easier to say than 'Perusha', I suppose…

"Alright, Babaku," the Wind Shadow looked at the boy squarely. "what exactly does 'Babaku' do?"

"Well," he said, "I fight."

"And…?"

"I…fight…"

The shaven man raised an eyebrow. "Really."

Gaara, unable to contain himself any longer, made his thoughts known. "Father! He can do more than that!"

"Oh?" said Gaara's father, lacing his fingers and leaning back in his chair, "Enlighten us."

"Well, he…he climbs really good…"

"Yes?"

"Jumps really good, too…really high and really far…"

"Anything else?"

"Um…he's pretty fast!"

"Hm…Hmm." The Lord Wind Shadow leaned forward a bit, adjusting his posture.

He breathed out through his nose, smirking. "Can't say I'm impressed. Any man under my command can do that, right down to the bottom rung. He doesn't have any credentials, I have nothing to go on but anecdotal evidence as to how competent he is, and I doubt he has any ability in the creation and use of chakra, from my impression of him."

The Wind Shadow gave his son a hard look. "I doubt I could use him, if that's what this is about. As your 'friend', he's a dangerous liability. He's armed, he's young, most likely foolish, and he's a foreigner from an unknown nation. I don't like that."

"But he's really nice- and- and… he's really nice!"

"That's quite the argument, Gaara, but I don't see what I want to see from him. As is, you're better off without him."

Gaara's eyes widened, and he raised his arms, flailing them randomly. "That isn't fair! He's the first person who's been nice to me without being made to or because we're related! He's fun! He killed one of those guys who always come after me!"

Gaara's father looked up. "Is that so? Another mark against him, I guess. Gaara-"

He stood up from his chair quickly, taking up his hat and putting it back on. The once again veiled man looked at the two boys standing across from him for a time. Then he adjusted his hat, saying "-you can have him."

"But WHY- what?" The little boy's face quickly switched from a child's outrage to befuddlement. "Just like that?"

"I don't see why not," said the Wind Shadow, glancing down at Gaara, "his reflexes aren't bad…"

"What do you me-" Gaara began, glancing over at his friend.

Babak did not look very pleased. Most people seldom did when they have a dagger thrown at them at the drop of a hat- or, in this case, the picking up of one. The taller boy had just barely finished straightening up from having to dodge the unexpected weapon aimed at his throat.

"Oh." Gaara felt confused about how to feel about this- on the one hand, he got to keep his friend; on the other, his father just tried to murder that friend.

The Wind Shadow smoothly moved from behind his desk, saying "I want you two to spar together. Weapons or not, I want you two to fight. Every day. As frequently as possible."

"Um…okay…" Gaara shuffled his feet.

"I want you sharp, and I find this a more suitable way of doing it."

Babak's brow wrinkled. "'More' suitable way?"

The veiled man waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Nevermind that. Just focus on playing games and beating the crap out of each other."

"Um…" the two boys mumbled, nearly at the same time.

"Go on, get going. I have plans to make and legal issues to sort out."

Gaara glanced up at his father, hope in his eyes.

"You're dismissed. Now go."

With that, the two boys left.

The Wind Shadow shook his head, sighing. He paced a little around the room, coming to stand at his desk. "Another heap of problems to take care of."

Baki, still standing at his spot in the room, made a sound of agreement at that. "Indeed. Why did you decide to deal with the boy like that?"

"I fully intended to kill the boy, Baki, and he was able to move in time to dodge it. He didn't do anything else, such as duck behind Gaara or charge at me."

"Hardly proof, Lord Wind Shadow, if I may be so bold as to say so."

The older man coughed, saying "You don't have my eyes, Baki, nor my depth perception; why you wear your veil like that is beyond me.

"I saw how that boy moved. He was fast enough to do a number of things. Instead, he stuck right there beside Gaara and the boy didn't notice until he looked. That's all the 'testing' I need."

"But what if he's a spy? Surely that is a pressing issue."

The Wind Shadow chuckled, sitting back down at his desk. "If I was a bleeding heart like the any one of the current generation of Leaf nin, I would say that there is no way a child like that could be a spy.

"As a Sand nin, however," he continued, taking up his pen, "I can safely say that we'll find a way to rat him out soon enough. No harm now, he's just getting started, but don't think I won't have an eye on him. You have your eye on him. Both of them, if you can afford to part from your fashion statement."

Baki shifted where he stood, uncomfortable. "Lord Wind Shadow, I wish you would not make light of my choice in dress…"

"Why not? The moment you stop complaining about it is when I know you're a fake."

"But I hate it when you do that."

"As I know full well. Perhaps some day you can abuse my idiot son the same way."

"Gaara? I know you're not fond of him, but-"

"I'm talking about the other one. I have a funny feeling about that one; soft in the head, and he's acting more and more like a queer. More than you, honestly."

Baki pursed his lips annoyance, knowing that his superior was enjoying this moment of levity way too much for his liking.

"Making faces like that makes you an easy target, Baki.

"In any case, we need to talk specifics with these arrangements with the former village nuisance…"

"Sir?"

"Well, the fool can't be allowed to romp around free now that he's a friend of the Lord Wind Shadow's youngest, now can he? He'll need his own quarters, preferably near Gaara, and he'll need proper clothes as opposed to the hideous wardrobe he has now…

"But, first, we'll need to clean him up. Preferably with a hose."

A rather light ending to the chapter. More and more away from the "legendary" tone from the initial chapters.

All should be spiffy in time.

For those who're a little bit behind on things, let's go over some fairly obvious things:

I'm not writing in dialect: I will use English terms as much as possible. This is so you people actually know what you're looking at, and so this story doesn't come off all wapanese like the usual crap coming out of the Naruto fanbase these days. Sorry, you active Naruto fan ficcers, but you really need to stop trying to be as Japanese as possible- it inhibits your creative process by giving you a language nobody here really understands and it makes you sound like a try-hard multiculturalist nerd.

I read up on the worlds surrounding the content of my story: I have injected a bit of what Persian culture was like into the story. The religion is the most obvious, what with the ashes and all. Less obvious is our wonderful Prince's name, Babak. Guess what it means? *ahem*

I'm going with the old Naruto canon: No tailed beasts. Not really, anyways. Gaara houses the spirit of a mad monk kept in a tea pot, like it initially said in the damn series. Deal with it. Naruto still contains the Nine-Tailed Fox, because that's a part of Japanese mythology. Srsly, look it up. Two-tailed cats, I believe, are also in there, but I dunno if I'm gonna let Yugito in for fear of placing the story a little bit closer to the current canon.

Look, if it's not obvious at this point, I'll spell it out for you: I hate the current canon and fanon. It sucks. It's not worth reading. Everything's spelled out for the idiot fans and there's no room for our imaginations to wander. The whole story's been boiled down to the old DBZ formula of endless confrontation and cheap gimmicks. It's boring. It's melodramatic. I don't like it and I can't work with it without having to heavily satire it. Just the one bit with the Kazeka- WIND SHADOW riffing on Baki is me using the character as a mouthpiece. I'd like to avoid that sort of thing in the future, and I hope you'd agree with me here.

For those with concerns about Red Dawn (Akatsuki's English-y translation, I believe) with this new change, my plan is to not have it. The characters that were part of it will be scattered around the world, doing what they will do when not chained down to some retarded world domination scheme.

As for Itachi, I feel that that whole story's pretty much independent of the Akatsuki thing. All the other Shippuuden bits connecting to him will be altered, if not totally removed.

Look, if it makes it up to you, the Prince and Gaara as the tag team of adventure and loveliness should be enough to fill the void. This is running off the original PoP canon, rather than the new UbiSoft shite canons or the movie canon, so there'll be plenty of magic and weapons.

For the Phillistines who are so lacking in knowledge, the original PoP games were awesome and fun plotwise. They were like 1001 Arabian Nights kinds of tales, but with their own flavor. Less ninja stunt crap, more everyman stunts and action. Less twirling swords and time traveling, more intense duels and mysterious supernatural phenomena & worlds. Not that there's not gonna be lots of running and jumps and fun tricks, but my point is that that was not what Persia was like or what a Persian person would do.

To clarify, the Prince in Sands of Time does lots of parkour stunts. Now, I fucking LOVE parkour, but this was Ancient Iran; this was not the latter part of the 20th Century or the set of Jump City. Wallrunning looks awesome and pleases the average gaming fan, but it doesn't feel like the Prince of Persia fighting, it feels like the cop from Banlieue 13 fighting. Let's remember the authenticity of the times, mmkay? That's my shtick in this story.

The world of Naruto is a fucked up, weird-ass world with tech and culture all over the place, so I won't mess with it. However, I'll try to interpret what I can to give your guys a believable result. Not just an interesting result, but a believable one. Tell me what you can to help me keep you interested in this story.

I have a few other points to make, but I think I've wasted enough screenspace on notes for a chapter or twenty.

Inadvertently, now you know why I've kept the notes in preceding chapters so short; I tend to go off on a tangent. Well, that and it retards my creative process.

Anyways, see you in the next chapter!