Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of whoever it was that made it.
--
The unforgiving desert sun beat down on the sands below with a fierce intensity, rapidly baking the ground that had just so recently been painfully cold in the darkness of the night. That was the norm here; a place of perpetual extremes. Nothing happened gradually. There was no subtleness to the world that greeted the inhabitance of Sunagakure. One moment, all was well. The next, everything had turned upside-down. That was simply the way it was. Thus, it should come as no surprise that the people of this hidden desert village had come to act in a similar way. As the world around them treated them to constant extremes, they in turn would treat each other with a similar lack of subtlety.
It was no wonder the assassins her father constantly sent were so terrible at stealth.
'This one seems stupider than the last.' Gaara thought to herself, walking through the village streets in the direction of a more empty area of town. As she turned down another alley way, she sensed her pursuer follow shortly thereafter. It was almost as if he didn't realize she was leading him into a trap.
As she walked, she listened to the sand all around her. It spoke to her, in its own way, telling her all. In a desert, there was little the sands didn't know. She could hear the man behind her take another step, his foot sinking into the sand a good bit before he lifted his other leg for another step. He was at least 167 centimeters tall, judging from the length of his stride, and a good 90 kilograms. That was unusual. She could only assume he was wearing some kind of armor. At least he was smart enough to do that.
In an instant, he moved, one moment walking down the alley peacefully, the next tearing open his cloak and unleashing a barrage of shuriken that numbered in the hundreds. Much like the desert itself, he moved from one extreme to the next with little warning at all.
Gaara stopped walking, the earthen cloak wrapped around her body unfurling in an instant into a cloud of sand. It moved with a swiftness that was almost beyond comprehension, forming a barrier between her and her attacker that quickly claimed all of his weapons. She spun around then, throwing her arm out towards the foolish assassin who was in the midst of a few hand seals.
"Too slow." The walls on either side of the assassin fluidized in a fraction of a second, collapsing inward before squeezing down upon him like a vice. She could hear his body pop like a pimple under the pressure of her assault, but the sand quickly told her something was not right. His body had no blood.
'Clone.' Gaara realized, turning just as her shield of sand flew around to get between her and the incoming blade of wind. The sand shook with the impact but otherwise held strong, parting to reveal the assassin standing atop the building above her.
With little more than a glance, Gaara's sand exploded towards the idiot while Gaara herself rode up the wall beside her, the wall collapsing into sand as she went and carrying her up. The assassin leapt as Gaara's sand struck, unleashing another wind Jutsu towards her that she manually blocked with the sand from the wall. The assassin landed on an overhang, however it immediately collapsed into sand the moment his feet touched it.
"Shit!" He cursed, tumbling towards the ground while frantically making more hand seals. "Reppushou!"
The assassin thrust his palm down, scattering the sands away from him with an intense gust of wind as he landed. Before he could steady himself, however, he was blindsided by Gaara's sand, which quickly dragged him into the air while enveloping him entirely, save his head.
"Everything in this village is constructed from the materials of the desert. There is nowhere you can go where you're safe from my sand." Gaara said simply, holding her arm up towards him with her hand in a loose fist. All it would take is a squeeze, a clenching of her hand, and the man would be dead. This was a moment she liked to savor.
Something blurred out from the man's mouth, barely registering to her eyes. She moved her head to the side purely on reflex, but whatever it was grazed her cheek regardless.
"What-" Gaara muttered in surprise, just as the assassin began to laugh wildly.
"Ha ha! Yes! I've done it, I've fucking won! Take that you little monster! I knew you'd try to crush me. Your shield of sand can't protect you while you're using it as a weapon! That needle was laced with the most powerful poison known to the Hidden Sand. You're as good as dead!" The assassin continued to laugh at his perceived victory while Gaara simply stood there, staring up at him calmly. Then, ever so slowly, a smirk found its way to her face.
A crack spread across her cheek, stemming from the scratch and reaching up to the corner of her eye. Then another one appeared going down towards her jaw. Several more followed, before her face began to resemble broken glass. Then, the cut just crumbled away, revealing unmarred flesh beneath it.
"Thanks," Gaara said, laughing even as the armor of sand reformed, "you've proven it useful."
She clenched her fist, compressing the idiot assassin's body down to the width of a human hair with the suddenness of an implosion. The crack of his bones shattering was almost drowned out by the squishing of his innards being reduced to a fine paste. Surprisingly, he managed to scream before the life was literally squeezed out of him. Of course, that was silenced abruptly when his head exploded like an overripe melon as his innards looked for someplace to go.
She made a mental note to cover the head of the next one. That had been rather messy.
Gaara turned away from the rain of gore behind her and instead turned her attention to the needle that was embedded in the roof at her feet. Hmm, that was odd. It seemed as if a length of paper was wrapped around it.
"A note?" Gaara muttered in confusion, pulling the length of paper off and examining it. She was expecting it to be an explosive note, but instead she recognized the flowing handwriting of her father.
'Report to mission center for briefing. -Yondaime Kazekage.' It read. It seemed her father was using assassins as messengers now. How quaint. As she walked away, her shield of sand flowed after her, collecting and condensing itself around her body until it was once again in the appearance of an earthen cloak. Without missing a step, Gaara pulled the hood up over her head and leapt down from the roof, heading in the direction of her small residence. She could report to the mission center later. Right now, she had more important business to attend to.
She had sworn to herself six years ago that she would wear the armor of sand without pause until she could prove it had a use. She had finally accomplished that goal. It was time to shed the armor, something she had been looking forward to for as long as she could remember. Her head had been itching for the past several years, and her chest had started to bother her in the past few months as well.
As she arrived home, Gaara let her sand cloak collapse to the floor, her sash and shirt following shortly thereafter. A loosening of her belt allowed her pants to fall to the ground, which she simply stepped out of afterwards. Gaara stood in her own living room, practically nude, save for one last thing.
The armor of sand, which had cradled her and held to her body tightly for the past six years, began to crack before it simply crumbled away.
The first thing she noticed was an amazing sense of lightness. She never realized just how heavy the armor was until that moment. She almost felt too light, like a single step would launch her into the ceiling. After that came a chill that crawled across her flesh as the wind caressed it for the first time in half a decade and a curtain of red that fell in front of her eyes. Had her hair been growing under the sand the whole time? It reached nearly to her breasts now. She had breasts now?
With carefully placed steps, Gaara crossed her home towards the bathroom, where a full length mirror laid in wait. As she entered, her eyes caught her reflection and her breath almost caught in her throat. Was that really her? Gaara reached up and pushed her long bangs behind her ears, noticing with some degree of dissatisfaction how sweaty and grimy it felt. Her face had definitely changed. For the past six years, she had been wearing the face of a young boy through the armor of sand, and now looking back at her was the face of a 12 year old girl.
She moved her head subtly, looking at her own face from as many different angles as she could. She had the briefest urge to try out different expressions just to see what they looked like, but couldn't work up the desire to form more than a frown. She could see a resemblance to her elder sister in the shape of her face, a thought that brought her gaze lower.
Her nipples were larger than she remembered, and her chest was beginning to bulge with the presence of breasts. They were swollen and tender, though, from her unknowingly crushing them under her armor for who knew how long, giving her a much larger appearance than they should look. Her eyes fell further, seeing the way her body narrowed at the waist before widening again at her hips. She twisted slightly at the waist to get a look at her butt, noticing that it was filling out as well.
Her figure was undeniably feminine, a thought that made her simultaneously happy and depressed. She was glad to see that she was not lagging behind her elder sister as much as she had thought, but knew her father would disapprove of the change. There was no way she could hide this under her armor, though. She didn't want to. She felt good about her decision to conceal her shield of sand as a cloak, now. At least that would make her gender a little less obvious to observers.
Gaara moved away from the mirror and into the shower stall, feeling the way her hair clung to her and decided washing it was in order. She gasped as the water hit her bare skin, once again realizing just how sensitive she was after cutting herself off from the outside world for so long. She quickly rinsed herself off before turning to concentrate on her hair, letting the water soak into it before running her hands through the mess of crimson to clear it of any tangles.
The water progressively got warmer as Gaara turned her gaze to the corners of the shower stall, her eyes falling on a small bottle which she promptly grabbed. It had been Yashamaru's, she imagined, and had been sitting there for longer than Gaara cared to think about. The shampoo certainly made things easier. After a few minutes, Gaara was satisfied with her hair and turned her attention to the rest of her, running her hands slowly down her body as she looked around for some kind of soap. Finding none, she turned to the shampoo, again deciding it was better than nothing.
As she washed, she slowly closed her eyes, letting her hands roam over her body while she listened to the sound of the water hitting the floor of the stall. She was feeling warmer now as the steam began to build up in the small bathroom from the heat of the water. Her skin still tingled pleasantly, but the sensation was starting to dull as time passed, much to her relief. Her fingers traced around her areolas slightly as she washed her breasts, causing her to notice a wholly different tingling sensation.
Gaara's eyes snapped open towards the closed bathroom door as she froze in position. She tensed her body, briefly wondering how well she'd be able to move without the armor when the wall exploded inward in a shower of dust and splinters. Gaara was off like a shot at the very same instant, the shower behind her peppered with shuriken a fraction of a second after she vanished.
She almost ran headlong into a wall without even realizing it, but with a simple pulse of chakra it collapsed into sand around her. She landed in the next room, pulling the sand along with her and willing it to flow up her body. Her eyes locked with those of her attacker as the familiar smooth caress of the armor of sand settled around her body. He was visibly shocked, clearly not having expected to see what he had. That split second of hesitation was all she needed.
The shield of sand struck the man from behind like a pouncing cat, throwing him across the room and coiling around his body until he was nothing more than a lump of sand pressed against the wall. After a few moments, Gaara let the sand fall away from his face, allowing the assassin to pull in a much needed breath of air.
"You're a...a girl?" He muttered stupidly, still starring at Gaara's body incredulously. Despite the armor, she still appeared quite nude. With a glare, Gaara shifted the sand again, covering the man's entire face with the exception of his mouth.
"Do you have a message for me, too?" Gaara asked, the annoyance clear in her voice as she held her hand in a ready position to finish him off. To think her father would send two assassins in one day. He was getting impatient in his old age.
"Yondaime-sama wants you to report to the mission center immediately." Very impatient, Gaara decided.
"You saw something you weren't supposed to. I think I'll kill you slowly for that, starting with your eyes." Gaara said, changing her hand position as she willed the sand into motion. She could feel them pressing inward. Scraping. Eroding. The assassin screamed as she let her sand eat away at his eyes, making sure to wipe the sockets clean as she did so. It was only then that she turned to the rest of him, starting first with his extremities, the sand containing him rotating and twisting about the man with ever increasing speed, flaying his flesh with painful ease.
Throughout her torment of him, she never bothered to cover his mouth. She wanted him to scream. She wanted to listen to his screams.
--
The mood in the room was tense as they waited for the final face to show itself. This time of waiting was always the worst, not knowing when or if Gaara would show himself. They all pretended not to know about the assassins, turning away and acting like they didn't see the way their father tried again and again to kill his youngest child. It was just one more thing to add to the ever growing pile of reasons to hate the man. Sometimes, Temari found herself hoping someone would assassinate him already, and save the rest of them the worry.
The sound of the door opening drew the attention of all three currently gathered, seeing the familiar cloaked figure walk in the room as a clear sign that the boy had once again survived the attack. He looked different, though. Despite having seen him last no less than a month ago, his hair seemed to have grown dramatically.
"You're late." Baki said simply, glaring at the boy as he came in and leaned against a support beam.
"I had some pests to kill." Gaara replied before changing the subject, "What's the mission?"
Baki stood up from the small desk he sat behind and looked across the room at the three genin before him. Temari, Kankuro and Gaara, the three children of Yondaime Kazekage, and the only team they could trust with the situation that was currently facing them.
"Recently, the Wind Daimyo's second eldest son has been sent towards the border to negotiate trade routes with our neighbors to the north. Under normal circumstances, a small team of Shinobi from Sunagakure would accompany a member of the Daimyo's family on such a trip, and we offered our services as such." Baki began to go over the mission parameters, handing a file to Temari, who was the closest one to him.
"However, the Daimyo refused us. As you may not know, he has recently begun making funding cuts to Hidden Sand while simultaneously outsourcing to hidden villages offering cheaper wages. While he saves money, we stagnate, without funding or income. The Daimyo's son has already crossed the boarder under the protective guard of a Shinobi team from Hidden Rock, an insult we cannot forgive." Temari passed the file to Kankuro as Baki momentarily paused to collect his thoughts.
"So what do you want us to do?" She asked.
"Assassinate him, under the guise of Hidden Rock Shinobi." Baki explained, getting a look of shock from both Temari and Kankuro. Gaara simply stood where she was stoically, accepting the file from Kankuro as she did so.
"You want us to trick the Wind Daimyo into thinking his son was murdered by Hidden Rock?" Kankuro asked, becoming even more confused when Baki nodded his head in confirmation. "You want us to assassinate one of our own nobles?" He added, repeating himself in disbelief.
"The death of the Daimyo's son is a serious offense. We'd be executed if we were caught. And if we aren't, that could spark a war between Wind and Earth." Temari wasn't entirely sure what the rationalization behind this mission was, but she wasn't liking the sound of it.
"In the long run, a war would only benefit us. Shinobi are tools of war; we become strong in times of battle, and weak in times of peace. However, war is not our goal here, though it would be a bonus if it were to come to that." Baki coughed to clear his throat before continuing.
"We want to teach the Wind Daimyo a lesson. If his son is killed by enemy ninja, then the chances he will outsource to other villages will decrease. At the very least, we won't have to worry about Hidden Rock taking any more of our missions." Baki said. For a moment, the room was silent after that as Temari and Kankuro absorbed that information. It sounded crazy, but a mission was a mission.
"Is this the one you want me to kill?" Gaara asked, lifting a photo from the file and holding it out. Baki nodded.
"Yes, that's the Wind Daimyo's son. This is a top secret B rank mission, and as such you cannot let anyone know of this or identify you as members of Hidden Sand." Baki said. Gaara closed the folder and tossed it across the room, earning the attention of the other three.
"Temari and Kankuro's jutsu are too obvious. Hidden Rock doesn't have Fuuton users or puppet masters. I can disguise my sand as Doton jutsu; it would be best if I did this alone." Gaara said simply. Both her siblings looked like they wanted to protest, but a single glance from her silenced them before they even began. It seemed they were still afraid; just as well.
"You'll still need to get past his bodyguards. We can distract them, at least." Temari finally got up the courage to say. Gaara turned to glare at her for a moment before looking away, much to Temari's relief.
"Whatever." Gaara muttered dismissively.
"Take this." Baki said, throwing a forehead protector to Gaara. She caught it reflexively and looked at the surface, seeing the symbol of Hidden Rock.
"We only have the one, so Gaara will have to perform the assassination alone. I suggest you all change your clothes before you go. You'll give yourself away dressed as you are." Baki said. They all nodded in response.
"Let's go." Gaara commanded, turning towards the door with her siblings following suit.
--
Tanuki
--
This is what she lived for, what she devoted every waking moment of her day towards. Gaara was a weapon, it was all she knew. Her father directed her and she struck with the same certainty as any sword, slew her targets with the same lack of mercy that you would get from any explosive note. A weapon did not question its master, it did not voice concern. It was simply directed, and where it was directed, things died. This was the all encompassing truth of her existence. It defined her existence.
It was for this reason that Gaara took missions so seriously. She was a far more sophisticated weapon than a mere blade. It wasn't enough to simply kill, she had to kill without being noticed, and she had to do it quickly and efficiently. She also had to kill only specific targets. Collateral damage was unacceptable from the ultimate weapon. Bystanders could not be involved. They would only risk identifying her. The target's servants could not be involved. It was critical to the mission that they only catch brief glimpses of her, enough to falsely identify her as a Hidden Rock assassin and nothing more. Most importantly, her siblings could not be involved. As much as their presence annoyed her, she couldn't kill them, couldn't harm them, not on a mission. A weapon that killed friend and foe in the same strike was worthless.
She refused to be considered worthless.
It was with this thought in mind that she forced down her irritation at having to work with the two. This marked the 9th mission they had carried out together, none of which Gaara was particularly fond of. While her siblings were by no means bad ninja, and were each skilled in their own rights, she couldn't help but feel they got in her way.
She hated their presence, just as she was sure they hated her. Though it was easy enough to ignore her brother, Temari was a constant irritation, flaunting everything she had that Gaara had been denied so flippantly. Gaara was so very tempted to kill her every time she looked at her. She'd even tried on several occasions. She wasn't sure whether she was happy or not that she had thus far failed.
"Are you ready?" The voice of her sister gave Gaara pause, turning to the elder girl who had just approached. She was dressed in a manner Gaara had never seen her in. She had let her hair down, where it now reached just past her shoulders. She had also covered her face in a liberal amount of makeup and was dressed in a less than proper kimono. Gaara knew the choice in clothing came from a need for mobility, something a real kimono seriously hindered, and that the make up was necessary to make her harder to identify. Despite that, she couldn't help but feel that the whole ensemble made her sister look like a common prostitute, or a courtesan at best.
How simple would it be to just crush her to death? Her sand coated the ground around them, waiting eagerly. It would hardly take any effort at all...
"Gaara, are you listening?" Gaara shook her head, remembering that they were still on a mission. A proper weapon did not kill allies without reason. She had to resist that urge.
"I'm fine. What's the situation?" She asked, picking up the Hidden Rock headband and tying it firmly in place around her forehead, finishing up her disguise. It covered up her scar well and did wonders to keep her hair out of her eyes.
"There are 8 in all: The target, 4 servants and a ninja team of 3. Kankuro is keeping an eye on them now. They'll be in position in a few minutes." Temari explained, going over the specifics of the set up. The plan was a simple one. Sand spies had recently discovered a division of sorts amongst the Hidden Rock ninja. Disguised as she was, Gaara could simply take out the three ninja and the target and her status as a Hidden Rock ninja wouldn't be questioned. The servants would return to the Wind Daimyo and claim that Hidden Rock betrayed them, and the Hidden Rock would have no choice but to suspect their own ninja.
"You sure it's them?" Gaara asked, straightening out her chuunin vest and once again examining the rest of the outfit. She had no choice but to drop the Armor of Sand, leaving herself feeling strangely naked. She was also experiencing the odd feeling of being too light once more, though she had started to get used to that.
"Positive. Trust your older sister on this one." Temari stated confidently, winking at Gaara. Gaara said nothing in response, simply tightening her belt one last time before heading off. Temari's job was done; now it was up to her.
She could feel her sand sliding across the ground just behind her as she walked, knowing that it was too obvious as it was and would give her away. With a brief moment of concentration, the sand started to sink, diving into the ground beneath Gaara's feet. Down there, it would be out of the way, and in a perfect position to start her attack.
It didn't take long for the group to round the corner, heading up the mountain path towards Gaara's position on the bend. She simply stood and waited in the middle of the road, waiting for them to come into view.
"What the-"
"Who're you?!" The Hidden Rock ninja were the first to notice her. Unsurprising. She could feel her sand at work, grinding and digging through the earth beneath her, breaking it up into pieces.
"Doton." Gaara muttered, making several superfluous hand signs. "Bishin no jutsu."
With a mighty heave, the sand rose, pushing the rock and earth up above it. A path of broken ground seemed to shoot across the gap between Gaara and the group, ending just in front of the ninja and exploding in a rain of dirt.
"An assassin!"
"Get him!" The three ninja all drew swords suddenly and rushed towards Gaara, seemingly abandoning the idea of using jutsu. That was odd, she didn't realize the Hidden Rock were kenjutsu users. It didn't matter though. They were all going to die anyway.
Gaara made a few more random hand signs, ending on a snake seal. Her sand went to work cutting apart the earth in the middle of the road before exploding upward just as one of the three ninja stepped into the area. A haze of small chunks of rock sharpened into blades by the sand tore his leg to a mangled heap of flesh, leaving him with no options but to lay there and bleed and cry out in pain.
Gaara casually ducked a slash from one of the other two ninja, pulling a kunai from her belt and burying it in his chest for his effort. Her sand was already tearing apart the ground under him and with a gesture he was gone, sucked into the earth by the cavity she had opened up before being torn apart by her sand. The earth did a fine job of muffling his screams.
"Doton." Gaara began, going through several more hand seals as she glared at the final ninja. He was trembling in fear, having barely moved from his last position upon seeing the fates of his two comrades. "Chuushin no Jutsu."
Her sand finished with the buried ninja and cut a swath through the road. With a grunt of effort, Gaara practically turned the ground before her inside out, the dirt and stone buried in the ground erupting to the surface as if she had buried explosive notes in the area. The final ninja never even saw his death coming. He simply vanished beneath a cloud of dirt and stone.
By the time the dirt and dust settled, the servants and target had already fled back the way they came. They were too slow, however. Much too slow. The world almost blurred around her as she moved, still unused to moving so little weight. She was upon her target in an instant, her hands wrapping around his fat neck and stopping him fast, pulling him around and slamming him against a wall.
"Aaah! Please don't kill me! You don't wanna kill me!" The man blubbered, averting his eyes and holding up his hands between them in warding gestures. Something was...off.
"...You're not him." Gaara muttered, recalling the face of their target from the file. This was not the son of the Daimyo. She didn't know who this was.
"No, I'm just a servant! Those ninja told us to dress up like this. We were supposed to be decoys! Please don't hurt me!" He stuttered, still trying to ward her away.
Gaara's eyes narrowed and her grip tightened. Decoy? Then those ninja were fake as well? No wonder they were so pathetic. Mere servants; simple bodyguards, if their desire to face her was any indication. She didn't notice the man's choked out grunts or his weak grabs at her forearm as she tightened her grip further. She continued to brood on this turn of events, increasing the force she applied to his neck as her frustration grew. It wasn't long before his struggles stopped..
"Is that him?" The voice of her sister sent a wave of irritation down her spine. This was Temari's fault. She failed this mission because her sister had been too incompetent to spot a decoy. She killed the wrong target because of Temari's foolishness. A good weapon did not fail.
"No. It wasn't. This was just a decoy." Gaara growled, finally releasing the fat man's neck as she turned a glare on her sister. "I should kill you for this."
"Wh...what? Just calm down, Gaara. How was I supposed to know they would have a decoy?" Temari spoke. She looked a bit afraid, a bit cautious. Good. She should be afraid.
"It was your job to track the target's position and report back to me. If you can't do something so simple, what good are you?" Gaara turned away from her sister, looking down the road in annoyance. She still had a target to kill, only now she had no idea where he was or what he was doing.
Temari growled a bit under her breath, her anger rising. How dare he suggest that this was somehow her fault!
"Gaara! Temari!" Kankuro called out, rounding the corner and stopping before his two siblings. He spotted the corpses and his face sank slightly.
"You ran into the decoys? Damn. I just spotted the real team up ahead. They took a different route. Looks like its just the ninja team and the Daimyo's son." He explained, taking note of the scarred road and the bodies of the fallen servants. Jeez, Gaara didn't hold back, even against decoys...
"Where are they?" Gaara asked, turning towards Kankuro with a hard look, noticing the fear in his eyes and the apprehension on his face.
"They're probably in the next town by now. If we're lucky, they'll be staying the night." He explained, gulping slightly from the intensity of Gaara's gaze.
"At least Kankuro is good for something." Gaara muttered, turning towards Temari. "Perhaps if you weren't born a woman, you wouldn't be so useless."
Temari froze. The anger and indignation clear on her face as her hands balled into tight fists. She recognized that tone, that look of distaste. That wasn't Gaara talking. It was her father. Even the words sounded like his, though she had never heard them said before. The fact Gaara would dare say something like that to her was bad enough, the fact he was quoting their father made it infinitely worse.
Not for the first time in her life, Temari wished she had the courage to slap her little 'brother.' She knew she would not find it, however.
"You two go after the servants that ran off, make sure they don't do anything unexpected. I'll finish the mission alone." Temari heard Gaara say. Kankuro didn't argue. He wouldn't have the guts to argue. She didn't answer, however, instead seeing fit to just glare at Gaara.
"Can you handle that?" Gaara asked, turning her impassive gaze onto her sister. Temari continued to glare, a bit of sweat dripping down her brow.
"Yeah. No problem." She replied half heartedly.
"Good." Gaara replied monotonously.
--
"They're late." a man said irritably, spinning a small, curved blade around his fingers in agitation. Motou Katashi was not happy. Far from it, in fact. From the beginning this mission had been a pain, and the fact that those servants were taking so long to reach town only added to it.
"They're servants; incompetent, really. What can be expected of them?" Another at the table said loudly, grabbing a piece of food off the table and biting into it greedily. This was the main reason for Motou's annoyance; the son of the Wind Daimyo. More than once he had the urge to slap the fat, disgusting pig of a man, but resisted. Despite how insufferable he was, this mission was too important to botch things. Getting the business of the Wind Daimyo was something to covet, and the political victory over the Hidden Sand was simply enormous. If everything went well, this mission would be a stepping stone towards a great number of victories over their rivals to the south. That had been why he was being so cautious, and why the tardiness was so aggravating.
"Why do you think we dressed your servants in our clothes and sent them along the more well used path? If they are late, they may very well have been attacked. Possibly killed." Motou explained, hoping the fat oaf would understand the seriousness of the situation. He simply scoffed, taking another bite of his food.
"Good riddance to the lot of them. I didn't like them anyway." He said through a mouthful of food, spitting small pieces across the table as he did so. Motou had to resist the urge to groan in disgust.
"Eh? What's this pretty little thing?" The idiot muttered, drawing Motou's gaze towards the door. His eyebrow rose as he looked at her, a look that he could not help but prolong. Her hair was the color of roses, falling around her head like a curtain of silk, reaching just past her shoulder blades. Her face was pristine, almost unreal in its perfection. There was not a single blemish to be found on it, from her delicately curved eyebrows to her perfect lips. Her body was the thing of fantasies, curving in all the right places in just the right ways. The only thing off about her was her state of dress, that of a worn and skimpy kimono that looked haphazardly put on, as if the wearer didn't know or care how it was properly worn.
Were it not for that simple imperfection on an otherwise flawless image, he'd have suspected the woman to be a genjutsu. Or a kitsune in human guise, had he believed in such fairy tales.
"Bring her over here." The fat man said, leering at the woman in obvious lust. Motou boggled at the order.
"What?" He asked, disbelieving what he heard.
"You heard me. I pay you, you have to do what I say. You only have to look at the way she dresses to see she's a whore. Bring her to me." He ordered again, not even looking at the chuunin across from him as he continued to leer at the woman across the small inn.
"Shushou, she's been looking this way since she's come in." One of the other ninja pointed out. Motou turned around again, seeing the woman sitting at another table, staring at them without even attempting to hide it. He turned back to his own table, looking between himself and the others. Four men, dressed as simple servants, none of them looking to be worth more than the clothing they wore. No woman of that quality would give a second look to such a group, especially a whore. One look at her and he was sure her price was beyond what any commoner could pay.
'Then why is she looking at us so intently?' He wondered. He didn't like the options he could think of one bit.
"Are you deaf, ninja, or just stupid? Do I have to get one of your lackeys to do it? Bring me that woman." The Daimyo's son insisted, finally taking his eyes off of her long enough to glare at the captain sitting across from him.
"That woman could easily be an assassin sent for your head. Do you want to die tonight?" Motou warned in hushed tones, not wanting to chance letting the woman in question overhear him.
"Ha! Her? Preposterous. She's just a woman. I use woman like her every day; worth nothing more than a good fuck. If she's lucky I'll even let her warm the bed when I'm done with her, rather than sleeping on the floor like she deserves." With these words, he rose from the table, clearing intending to go get the woman himself.
--
Gaara had decided that a change of plans had been in order, one that required more stealth and subtlety than she was used to. She had an unknown enemy of unknown ability in a crowded area. Witnesses were a bad thing, and simply killing anyone that saw her would be an unacceptable amount of collateral damage. The three Hidden Rock Shinobi and the Daimyo's son were as good as dead, but she needed to strike at them in seclusion. And to do that, she needed to get close enough to get them alone.
It was for this reason that Gaara was entering the small inn using a variant of her armor of sand, dressed in one of the spare kimono Temari had brought with her. She hadn't been entirely sure of how to properly put it on, but she assumed she had done a good enough job of it.
Almost immediately, she spotted her target. The Daimyo's son was easy enough to recognize, but the fact they were all dressed as servants did not help them, since she knew of the decoy. Gaara let the inn tenant lead her to a table without a word, all the while never taking her eyes off the table of four. The fat one wasn't even worth considering. He was a non-threat if she ever saw one. The other three, however, required some observation.
One of the ninja had been spinning a dagger around on his fingers when she had walked in and had a short sword of some kind leaning against the table beside him. An obvious weapon user, and likely the commanding officer, judging from the way the other two were sitting to his side wordlessly. She couldn't tell much of the other two. They appeared young, possibly even genin, but otherwise had no clues as to their skill set or fighting style. It was a shame they had the foresight to disguise themselves as servants. She would have had an easier time of it had they been wearing their usual equipment.
"You, woman, come with me." Gaara blinked in confusion before looking up, seeing the Daimyo's son standing in front of her table. She had been paying him so little attention she didn't even notice him come over. His words registered a second later and Gaara rose wordlessly, knowing an opportunity when she saw it.
The man put one hand around her waist and pulled her close to him, much to Gaara's annoyance. She made no attempt to struggle, however, instead letting the filthy excuse of a man lead her away from the table towards the three ninja.
"I'll be retiring to my room. You three do what you want." The Daimyo's son spoke as he approached the table, not looking like he intended to stop at all. The two subordinates showed no reaction, though the one she assumed was in charge looked concerned about the idea. Despite that, none of them rose to stop the man as he lead Gaara away towards the room she assumed he had gotten for himself.
"Heh. Just you wait, bitch. I'll be having some fun with you tonight." The fat man muttered lecherously, lifting his free hand to her breasts and groping her roughly. Even through the sand, the gesture was enough to make Gaara grimace in disgust. She still didn't protest, though. They walked a good distance, seemingly to the opposite side of the establishment to reach the room. Gaara couldn't have asked for a better location. Half the rooms they passed were even empty. Chances were, no one would hear a commotion.
As the door closed behind him, the Daimyo's son flung Gaara across the room with little consideration, causing her to land on the bed heavily. It was clear to her that the man had no tact, made all the more apparent as he leapt on top of her and began to tear her clothes off with wild abandon. A growl rose in her throat as her kimono was stripped away, getting even stronger as the man's hands began to roam. She waited, listing for any sign that the ninja had followed their mark to his room.
She heard none. Just as the man atop her roughly tore her underwear away.
"Enough." Gaara announced. In a flash, he was off her. He didn't even know what hit him as the sand she had covered herself in lifted from her body and dragged the man across the room. He was pinned to the wall in an instant, immobilized completely by her sands.
"Wha...What is this?! You bitch! Let me go!" He shouted, struggling against the heavy sand that was pressing him to the beams behind him. It wouldn't budge an inch. His eyes fell on his captor then, growing in surprise upon seeing her true form. She seemed to have lost a good 10 years of age, as the naked girl before him now couldn't have been any older than 12 or 13.
"You little brat. You'll regret this! I will break you! Maybe a few years as my personal fuck toy will teach you some respect!" He shouted, only to find the sand flowing up to cover his mouth.
"You're annoying. I'll enjoy tearing the flesh from your bones." Gaara muttered with a glare, her hand starting to clench as she willed the sand to start grinding into the man. The door flew open suddenly and the three Hidden Rock ninja rushed in, drawing her attention away from her recent catch.
"What the..." Motou announced in surprise. He had been expecting to see the woman with a dagger to the man's throat, or something like that. But a naked young girl standing in the room with the man he was supposed to be protecting plastered to the wall in what looked like...sand? That was not the kind of thing he was used to.
"Looks like you three will have to die after all." Gaara muttered, breaking the ninja from their momentary shock and inciting them to action. The two younger ninja each ran into the room in a flanking motion while Motou's hand flashed, sending a curved blade sailing through the air towards Gaara's head. With a gesture, a small piece of sand hit the weapon in mid air and changed its course, sinking into the fat man's chest almost at the same time Gaara released him from the wall.
"You killed the Daimyo's son." Gaara announced as the man in question hit the ground with a thud, pierced through the heart. Her sand coiled around her protectively as she jumped back, just in time to avoid Motou's second curved blade.
"Doton: Sekijun no jutsu!" the two other nin cried out in unison, causing Gaara to vault through the air as a pair of stalagmites shot through the floorboards in an attempt to vivisect her. She landed just behind Motou, who immediately spun and slashed only to have his blade sink into a wall of sand.
"You betrayed the mission, so these two tried to stop you." Gaara said simply as Motou struggled to pull his weapon from the sand. "But they were no match for you."
The sand twisted around, yanking the sword from his hands and stopping a blow that came in from behind her. With a flick of the wrist, her sand spat Motou's sword back out, taking the young ninja full in the chest and carrying him far enough to nail him to the opposite wall.
"You killed that one with your sword." Gaara stated, jumping to avoid another stalagmite while simultaneously slamming Motou into the wall with her sand, pinning him there. The last ninja trembled slightly as Gaara turned on him, letting loose a fist full of shuriken that Gaara avoided almost casually.
"Those shuriken missed you, just like all his previous attacks." Gaara said to Motou as the young ninja hastily went through some more hand signs.
"D...Doton!" He stuttered nervously, "Ishigaki no jutsu!"
Gaara rose an eyebrow as a wall of stone shot up through the floor, effectively cutting her off from the other half of the room. What was this? A defense? Did he intend to escape? There was no exit on that half of the room.
"You were actually the one to use this Jutsu." Gaara stated, turning away from the wall to look at the ninja she still had pinned to the other wall. "It was so you could do this."
Gaara threw her hand behind her, pulling her sand and the ninja with it across the room and smashing it into the stone wall the idiot ninja had erected. With a resounding crack, it began to tip, then fell. She couldn't help but grin at the sound of the other ninja's scream just before he was crushed to death.
"Wh...What is this? Why are you doing this? What the hell are you anyway?!" Motou screamed, struggling against his prison to no avail. Gaara glared at the man a bit in annoyance, her hand twitching. Motou didn't like it at all when the sand collapsed slightly in response to that twitch.
"I'm not doing this, you are. Weren't you paying attention? I was never here. All of this was your doing. That is the way it will be seen." Gaara explained, raising her hand slightly and grinned eagerly as her sand lifted Motou into the air.
"As for you, you were never found. They will assume you escaped and fled. You'll probably be declared a nukenin. Of course, we both know you won't be escaping." The sand rose to cover Motou's mouth as she spoke, finishing just as she gestured with her fingertips. The chuunin screamed into the muffling sand as loudly as he could as he felt the small particles of earth bore through his shoes and into his feet, slowly but surely eradicating them into nothing.
"I don't like being interrupted. I had wanted to enjoy that fool's death, but because of you he had to die quickly." Another gesture and Motou's gloves were shredded, followed by his fingernails being peeled off. Only then did the sands start on his fingers themselves, eating away at them ever so slowly until there was nothing left. His screams would have been deafening, had she allowed him to scream.
"You will be taking his place." Gaara grinned, flexing her fingers and sending her sand to work. She couldn't risk letting him scream. Despite the seclusion offered by the room, she was sure the rest of the inn would be able to hear him once she really got going. Instead, she pulled her sand away, letting it coil around her and form into her familiar cloak, finally concealing her nudity. Now, she only supported him by the shoulders, neck and head. The rest of his body was open to the air.
He lashed out pointlessly with his leg, trying to hit her despite being held far too far away. In response, she lashed out with a piece of her cloak, shredding the offending limb like a piece of paper. He bled quite nicely, she decided, watching as the crimson liquid erupted from his leg and coated a good portion of the room. She was quick to cover his wounds with sand, however. She couldn't have him bleeding to death so soon.
"You were so sloppy when you killed your comrades. There's blood everywhere." Gaara said simply, lashing out with her sand again to tear into the chuunin's chest. Again, she quickly covered his wounds, but the initial blast of blood had been plenty.
"It doesn't look like their's yet, but I'll be sure they look just as bad as the room when I'm done with you." Another lash of sand sent blood spraying across the walls and bed. Motou screamed pointlessly into the sand as the girl tore him apart, bracing himself as another lash took his arm off entirely, shredding it thoroughly to ensure all the blood in it was freed.
It seemed the sand itself was lapping at the blood stained floorboards in between strikes, almost like it was drinking it up. With every blow, with every bit of blood he lost, the girl's smile grew wider, more crazed. She was openly laughing as a drill of sand put a hole straight through his lower abdomen, making him scream even more.
He could only pray that he would pass out from the pain, be spared from this torture long enough to die from the blood loss. He knew he wouldn't, though. He was trained not to. Another blow and his blood sprayed all over his tormentor, coating her naked body and face. It only served to make her all the more frightening, smiling wickedly while covered in blood.
Gaara smiled at her handiwork, looking around in admiration at the blood soaked room. By this point there was so little of it that had been spared a marking of red. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard laughing and encouragement. Her sand twisted on the ground in preparation for a strike, soaking up blood off the floor like an eager cat going after a saucer of milk The more blood she spilled, the more her sand drank, the louder and more pronounced that thing in her mind seemed to get.
Gaara chuckled slightly as she looked into Motou's eyes, seeing the fear there, the pain. It wanted her to hurt him, It wanted her to make him suffer. It liked it when he bled, when Gaara made him bleed. Another blow, more blood, more laughs. Do it again, little one. Skin him. Shred him. Crush his bones. Hurt him more, little one. Make. Him. Suffer.
The other arm vanished in a flash of sand and Gaara couldn't help but laugh at how easy it had been. Well done, my little one. You're so good at making him bleed.
Gaara looked at the chuunin hanging in the air in front of her, no longer truly recognizable as being human, she pondered over what to do next. She could hear Motou's muffled screams through the sand covering his face and decided to take a small break. Slowly but surely, his screams began to subside. Once he was silent, she let the sand around his mouth fall away.
"K...kill me...please...just let me die..." Motou managed to say, barely above a whisper. Gaara's smile fell slightly as she cocked her head to the side in a bit of confusion, thinking over his words.
'Should I just end it? Crush his skull?' Why stop now, little one? His suffering has only begun.
'He's already bled so much. Most of the room is covered.' But he still has more blood to give.
'I still need to shred the others. This much blood is suspicious.' What fun is there in tormenting a corpse? That can wait.
Mother knows best, my little one.
"Alright, Mother." Gaara muttered, raising her eyes back to the chuunin she still had in her grasp. With a glance, the sand once again rose to cover his mouth, causing the fear to come back to his eyes.
"I'm not finished with you yet. Mother still wants your blood." Gaara couldn't help but laugh as her sand struck again, happy to hear mother's voice laughing with her as she did.
--
Night had long since fallen, leaving the only illumination up to the moonlight that ever so often fell behind the clouds. Temari and Kankuro had followed the servants for several miles before doubling back, both deciding that it was safe to assume they were heading back to Wind country.
Temari sighed slightly as she sat on her pack, watching her younger brother make a pile of leaves dance in the air with his chakra puppetry. All they could do was wait, wait for Gaara to get done doing what he always did and hope for the best.
"How do you think the mission went?" Temari asked, the boredom and silence finally getting to her. Kankuro shrugged, the leaves he was controlling bobbing in the air a bit in response to the movement.
"The decoy was unexpected, but we have what we wanted. Those servants ran all the way to the border without stopping, you can be sure they'll tell the Daimyo that a Hidden Rock assassin attacked them." Kankuro said simply, moving his fingers about to make the small leaf in his control jump and twist.
"And if I know Gaara, the Daimyo's son is long dead." He added. Silence fell on the two of them again for a short while after that. As Kankuro grabbed a second leaf with his other hand and began to make the two fight, Temari worked up the will to ask another question.
"Have you ever noticed something...weird...about Gaara?" She asked. The leaves fell to the ground lifelessly as Kankuro turned towards his sister with a confused look on his face.
"What? Other than the fact he's a fucking monster?" Kankuro asked sarcastically. Temari rolled her eyes, marveling at her little brother's obliviousness.
"Yes, other than that, stupid." Temari grumbled. Kankuro turned away and shrugged again, sending out a chakra string to his discarded leaves in the process.
"I don't know, I never really paid attention to him. The guy's scary as hell. The less I have to be around him, the better." Kankuro muttered. The leaf jumped into the air again, twirling around a few times before land perfectly on its stem.
"Though he did look a little strange. Last time we saw him, he still looked like a little kid, you know? Like he hadn't even hit puberty yet. But now he's got that really long hair and his face didn't seem the same at all. It was definitely different." Kankuro turned back around towards Temari, letting the leaf fall over without his support.
"I try not to look him directly in the face though, so I can't really say what it was. He just seemed...off, or something. Maybe he finally hit a growth spurt?" He shrugged at his own suggestion.
"I don't think that's it..." Temari sighed a bit, looking down at the pack she was sitting on. She had always had a few suspicions about their youngest sibling. She could remember from when they were little kids how Kankuro always treated her like she had the plague, typical little boy reaction to an older sister. Gaara never did that, though. She had originally figured that it was due to Shukaku, but when they were younger Gaara always treated her with...well, admiration was the best way she could put it.
That had slowly changed though. Once they had been put on a team together, Gaara's looks of admiration had become more bitter. He always looked at people coldly and with general disdain, but he seemed to save a special amount of disgust for her, almost as if he were...envious? Then there was all the times he tried to kill her unprovoked, which only added to her belief that Gaara disliked her specifically for some reason.
And now he had apparently grown out his hair, and his face had definitely looked different than the last time she had seen him. Kankuro hadn't been able to put his finger on it, but Temari knew what she saw there. His face did not look like what you'd expect from a boy going through puberty. Quite the opposite, in fact. Not to mention that when they got back to their camp, they had found Gaara's Hidden Rock outfit discarded on the ground, and some of Temari's own clothing were missing...
"Have you ever seen Gaara undressed or anything?" Temari asked, causing Kankuro to twitch and the leaf he had been playing with to tear into several pieces by the sudden jerk of his hand.
"What? No. Hell no. Why the hell would I have seen that? If Gaara even changes his clothes its news to me. What kind of question is that?" Kankuro demanded, obviously confused by the comment.
"I think Gaara might be-"
"Might be what?" Temari's words died in her throat as she and Kankuro both turned towards the voice. There, standing in the moonlight, stood Gaara. His entire body was hidden beneath the long sand cloak that he constantly wore, but neither of the two were looking at that. What froze the elder siblings in their tracks was the crazed look in Gaara's eyes, and the splatter of blood adorning his cheek.
"I might be what?" Gaara repeated, looking at Temari with those soul splitting eyes. She swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like there was a rock stuck in her throat.
"I...I was going to say that you might be c...coming back soon, Gaara." Temari stuttered. Something was definitely different about Gaara, something profound, primal. It was like standing in the presence of a hungry beast, staring into you with eyes that seemed to tell you just how sure your death was. Neither of them had ever seen Gaara like this.
"Smart." Gaara said simply, walking towards Temari and their packs. She quickly leapt off her back and skittered away to Kankuro's side, letting Gaara pass her as he approached his pack.
"How'd it go, Gaara?" Kankuro managed to say, watching Gaara from behind as he bent down to his pack and pulled out some of his spare clothes. The sand cloak fell away then, revealing Gaara's nudity and showing the both of them that his body was covered with just as much blood as his face.
"They're dead. Mother was happy to drink their blood." Gaara answered, putting on her clothes with her back to her siblings. Temari stared, unable to draw her eyes away from the distinctly feminine outline her sibling's body seemed to follow. Kankuro turned to her then, mouthing the word 'mother' in confusion while Temari just continued to stare.
"Gaara...Are you...Okay?" Temari asked, looking at Gaara as she turned around, once again fully clothed. The shield of sand rose from the ground and once again coiled around Gaara before forming into her cloak, just as the girl bent down to pick up her pack.
"Never better." She replied, walking past the two of them towards the road that led to the boarder. Temari and Kankuro just stood where they were and watched her go, before collecting themselves enough to get their own packs and follow after Gaara.
"Does that count as something weird about him?" Kankuro whispered, leaning in towards his sister without taking his eyes off the figure in front of them. "I thought I was gonna die."
"Didn't you see that?" Temari whispered back, gesturing to Gaara.
"See what? The fact he's fucking nuts? The fact he's covered in blood? The fact he looked at us like he wanted to eat us? Yeah, I saw that." Kankuro replied harshly. Temari groaned in frustration.
"No, you idiot. Gaara's body! Didn't you look at it?" She insisted.
"Why would I? I saw he was covered in blood and naked and looked away. I don't want to see that." Kankuro replied. Arching an eyebrow at the way Temari was looking at him. It looked like she was resisting the urge to strangle him. "Why? What about it?"
"Nothing. Never mind." Temari sighed again and sped up a bit, trying to get away from Kankuro without getting too close to Gaara. She knew what she saw. This plus all the other evidence pretty much cemented it into her mind as a certainty. Gaara...was a girl. But that just raised the question of why he pretended to be a boy for so long.
"Perhaps if you weren't born a woman, you wouldn't be so useless."
Temari almost stopped walking as the memory came to her, remembering the way Gaara looked at her when she said those words. It was a quote. She knew that those words did not belong to her sister.
'Oh Gaara...What did that bastard do to you?' Temari wondered, her thoughts turning to their father.
--
To be Continued
Next Time: With the day of graduation upon them, Naruto is assigned to a 3 man team under a jounin sensei. Told of his past and what he is truly capable of for their own safety, how will his new comrades react to the boy slowly descending into madness? And what will they do when they find themselves with no choice but to rely on each other on a mission well beyond their abilities? All this and more in the next installment of But for the Grace of God: Of Making Waves.
Ryo-Wolf