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Connection(1): A relation between things, people or events.

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A cold wind blew the soaked leaflets from the sidewalks. The streetlights turned on; some of them shone brightly while others flickered ghostly. The night had fallen and the dark clouds hadn't yet cleared. On the unusually empty and dim lit street, the sound of footsteps broke the unwavering rustling of the litter blown by the wind. The tall figure, a man, walked down the street wore a long coat and moved slowly. From his mouth and nose long volutes of hot air emerged and mingled with the freezing air outside. His moves could be misinterpreted as 'without a care in the world' but it was actually the walking of a man that paid strict attention to his surroundings. His cold and unexpressive pale green-blue eyes had grown dark bags around them in the last months from so many sleepless nights and days. This made the murderous look on them look much more threatening. The cause for this was a mechanical failure on the engine of his beloved car. The man had said it would take at least until tomorrow afternoon or more to get if fixed, so he left it there and started walking to his destination, the rented hotel room.

As he walked down the street he remembered his sibling's reports. There was nothing on those two. After a week of intensive research the only thing they had found out about them was that, had there been a fight club, they'd be the founders. They bickered and hit each other for the most absurd subjects, but for some strange reason they were always together. The thought of the girl living two beasts like them made his blood boil. But it seemed they were two different people around her. Anyways, that was all he needed to know and his siblings were released from the job. His mind soon drifted to the pink haired girl. During the week, he couldn't help meeting her, talking with her, or just being near. He felt like himself. Like the person behind the machine he had become. He was breaking so many rules just by being happy that he began wondering if his job was worth his happiness. How many times had money made him half as happy as she had? Not that money hadn't been good, hell not, but this was like… another currency for happiness. Sighing he kept walking leaving his feelings hanging around him, if he dug too deep behind his actions and feelings he might find something too unexpected that may change even more the way he had lived until now.

As he kept walking, he began to see small little white dots falling down obliquely due to the wind. But what had started as a sweet little snow soon became the redhead's worst nightmare: a blizzard. Only then he understood why the streets were so empty and the unusual cold. It had probably been in the news, but because of his obsession with his work he hadn't even stopped to listen to the weather report. Cursing his luck he pushed the hand that wasn't holding the briefcase deeper into his pocket.

The snowflakes damped his hair and clothes and not before long he was drenched all the way to his socks. He could barely see where he was going. Gaara began coughing again; struggling against the wind and the snow piling up made it much more difficult to get oxygen into his lungs. The red haired man came to a halt leaning on a lamplight to catch his breath. His coughs had become incontrollable by now. Ever since he was a little boy winter had been cruel to him, the slightest chill made him stay in bed for days. Surviving in winter meant either staying home, or in the car, and being unable to be in neither one had had its consequences.

Even though the wind was blowing he managed to hear a voice calling his name, coming from the sky. Not believing God could have a woman's voice he looked up in his emotionless fashion

"Gaara, is that you?" the female voice said from a balcony. He was too tired and numb to answer, so he didn't. He heard a sliding door shut and only moments later the front door of the building he had been standing in front of opened revealing a pink haired woman looking at him worriedly. He saw her lips move, curved downwards, 'so unlike her' he though almost happy for no reason. And then there was a blur of lights and shadows, a pain expanding on the left side of his forehead and the feeling of the snow on his face, then everything went black...

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When he regained some consciousness he couldn't tell how long had it been since he had fainted, all he could see now was pitch black cold darkness. Slowly, faintly, like a ghost or a powdered movie a figure appeared. He had seen her in pictures, heard of her in whispers, in nightly sobs; he had read it on a gravestone, on the fist blank pages of some books. It was a slender woman, with light brown shoulder length hair, soft eyes and caring smile. It was his mother; who had died a long time ago, after giving birth to him. She didn't utter a word, but she signaled her chest and from thin air a single blue sting appeared, approached him and formed a loop that floated loosely around his wrist.

He had heard, a long time ago, about these strings. He had been told that bonds can take years to form, or only instants. Sometimes people who lived together for decades just didn't form these connections. Others met for a brief instant and a tie stronger than steel seemed to appear out of nowhere. He had never paid much attention to the folkloric tales, but for some strange reason he could remember this one now.

Just like his mother had, other figures faded in. Thousands of people he had met in different circumstances throughout his life. There were children, coworkers and family members among many others. Soon there was a crowd all around him. Slowly, like a snake on the water, from every single figure, a string creped its way to him. But as they advanced, they found an invisible barrier, hard like an oyster. Every touch of those strings made the left side of his scull hurt like needles and pins, and the barrier grew thicker, stronger. Unable to reach him, the thin threads faded like they had never existed.

One by one, the people disappeared, frowning at him. Finally, he has alone. The blue string was only a light around his wrist, and there were only other few colorless threads attempting to reach him. He sighed, relieved, clutching his head. Suddenly, like iron and silk, he felt a vice grip on his other arm. Looking down he saw a thick red ribbon crawling up his arm and reaching his chest. The red haired man panicked, and tried in vain to get it off but it wouldn't budge. The silky touch was caring and warm like a hot spring; different in many ways to the dim light around his other hand. He looked from where it was coming from and saw it piercing his shelter like the beak of a seabird pecking its way through the shell of a mollusk. As soon as he noticed this the ribbon tightened again and forcefully pulled him out of his shield. But once out it wouldn't stop pulling and soon the redhead found himself flying towards the other end. Each moment that passed the air became warmer and the once impenetrable darkness was broken by a white light...


Seeing almost no one reviewed I take it you are tired of fillers. So here there is an actual chapter. YES-IT-IS even though it doesn't seem like it. The next one (which is the one you are waiting for) is deeeeeeeeply related to this.

1) I remembered something about a red string that ties those destined to be with each other and modified it a little here.

2)Review... or I'll have to kill you...

3) I'll update VERY soon if you review. In fact, I have the next one already written, so if you want the next I'll need 4 reviews!! (I'm a chapter kidnapper!!)