AN: Ten thousand thanks to all my reviewers. Shukaku, like Inner Sakura, will be in bold while Gaara's thoughts will be italicized.

Warnings: Murder, schizophrenia, self loathing, self destruction, and Gaara in the shower.

Disclaimer: I wished I owned Naruto….but I don't.

Chapter Seven

Break

Ino's hand, thrown out in a careless gesture, collides with Gaara's torn back. A gasp of pain slides between his clenched teeth.

Kill her! How dare she cause us pain! Your code of honor does not extend to this one, kill her! Wrap our hands around her small neck and squeeze the life from her. Listen as she screams and begs for mercy.

No! "Touch me again, and I'll kill you." I…I…I…

No! No waiting! No second chances! Kill her now! Make her bleed! Kill! Kill! Kill!

"Gaara, take your seat!" Iruka's voice is lost in the screams. His hand grasps Gaara's injured shoulder. A wounded snarl tears through his throat and his body locks rigidly.

Kill! Kill! KILL! KILL! KILL!

The roars are deafening. Gaara turns, ready to satisfy Shukaku's demands if only to make the screaming stop. Jade eyes meet emerald.

KILL!!!!

Gaara freezes, sense overcoming anguish for a fraction of a second, then he runs.

Right hand clasped tightly to his throbbing head, left arm swinging wildly, painfully, Gaara flees to the isolation of the bathroom.

KILL THEM! KILL THEM ALL!! SLAUGHTER ALL THAT BREATH! FEEL THEIR BLOOD AS IT FLOWS OVER OUR HANDS!!!

"NO!" Gaara wails, sliding against the tile wall. "Not here. Never here. Please, Shukaku. Oh god, please."

Stop lying to yourself, Gaara. Be a man! You're a killer, so kill! It's what you're good at. It's what you love. Be who, no, what you really are. Kill them. KILL THEM ALL.

"I don't want to." Gaara protests weakly.

That is a lie.

And it is, because a part of Gaara, a large part, does want to. Even needs to. What are these people to him? They're nothing. And it feels so good. The destruction, the blood and smoke, it's beautiful. So why shouldn't he? He's hurting so much right now, it would do any real harm to just kill a few. Just one, maybe two. No one would miss them. No one ever does.

"But not here." He manages before stalking into the hall. Shukaku rumbles his displeasure at Gaara's refusal to act immediately in the back of his mind, but makes no complaint. So long as there's blood to be spilt, he doesn't much care whose it is or where it is shed.

Gaara runs swiftly from the school. Running towards the busy city streets. Running towards the places far over crowded by homeless. People other people won't notice are gone. People who have no one to ask questions for them. People whose disappearance won't be suspicious. The perfect victims.

Their deaths are grotesque. Their bodies, when Gaara has finished with them, are dismembered and burned. He's killed four. Now he is home destroying evidence. It is now, as he stands under the stream of hot water, washing off the blood of people he's ruthlessly slaughtered, that Gaara truly hates himself. The words of Shukaku echo in his mind and he agrees completely.

"I am a monster." He says watching the crimson blood spiral down the drain. He feels it now. Only now. The darkness within him that he can't blame anyone else for. He killed four people today. Not because he had to. Not because he even needed to. Because he wanted to. He wanted to feel their blood as it splashed across his face. He wanted to look into their terrified eyes and watch as the life left them.

He smiled the whole time; a deranged grin of sadistic joy.

"I am a monster." His fist, acting without his brain's consent, slams into the wall. The tiles crack and splinter, small pieces falling away from the wall and into the water as he pulls his hand back. He stares at the hand as if he's never seen it before. The knuckles have split, sending his own blood to mix with his victim's.

Seized by an irresistible compulsion, Gaara pounds his fist into the wall again and again. Chunks of tile fall and splash into the bloody water. The dry wall hidden beneath is torn and bloodied. The water spraying over him goes cold, but Gaara can't tell. He feels the bones fracture as he slams his fist into the walls. He doesn't realize he's crying until the compulsion is gone.

Fumbling with broken hands to turn the water off, Gaara stumbles out of the shower. Blood seeps from his knuckles. Tears streak silently from eyes rimmed in black. He stares at his bloody trembling hand. Red drips down his forearm. It doesn't even hurt.

"I am a monster!" He sinks to the floor, naked and broken in more than just body. He doesn't want to be this. He doesn't want to kill. He doesn't want to live.

But he doesn't want to die.

What a pitiful creature man is to be broken so easily.

AN: I've really f'd up Gaara haven't I…I feel bad about it. Up next Gaara and Sakura start working on their project, which I won't be very specific about because I have no clue what it actually is. Woot? Maybe? Anyone else think "Kill" starts looking funny after the first couple of times? Weird…