Don't own Naruto.
This is just a little thing I'm half-interested in. I plan on doing it with other characters, and the 'adventures' will probably be unrelated. There may be spoilers, so be warned. No real plots, tons of spelling and grammatical errors: sue me. None will be continued, so if you for some reason want to continue one of these adventures I start, feel free to. I sure as hell won't care. ---
Adventure is something that men thrive on. No matter how cynical or prude the man is, Adventure is one of the driving forces behind a man's will.
The pursuit of strength, The pursuit of power, The pursuit of knowledge, And the pursuit of self-recognition.
The test of limits, The test of will, The test of cunning, And the test of your own worth.
These things drive men as much as greed, And as much as righteous fighting. The childish desire to go on an adventure Will be there in even the most cold of hearts.
- Anonymous
---
He wished he had known why he left. Something had called to him, drawn him away from that village. They would probably be worried that he had gone missing. He didn't care too much for them, though. They'd probably send more assassins, with the excuse that this was an act of treason against the sand. He found himself anticipating it, and he noted that it was with a morbid pleasure.
Sabaku no Gaara trudged along in the desert, heading towards the forests of Konoha with no real intent to be heading there. The winds were blazing fiercely, letting several sheets of sand spray in a rythmic motion, often blurring his vision. This, of course, made no difference to him. He knew which way he was going, and he had grown up in the desert.
The sun, however, was another story. It was very hot, especially with the dark clothing he was wearing. Luckily, he had a few canteens of water, one on his right thigh, one hanging from the right wrist, and then one that hung from the strap that held his gourd on his body. It should be enough for someone like him.
His thoughts travelled to Shukaku. That could have something to do with it. Shukaku recognized it in that blonde boy. The source of his vast power. The tanuki had been quiet since that day, and he had let Gaara go on in an eerily normal way. Sleep had been very tempting these past few days, but he wouldn't allow it; he wasn't going to lose himself. Even so, Gaara knew something was up. Shukaku probably wanted a real fight, and Gaara knew how to do that. Perhaps that was why he was heading towards Konoha's vast forests.
Of course, he didn't know why he was heading for Konoha-- and he didn't care. Maybe his path would veer to the left. He was wandering with no real purpose, and he couldn't say he cared. A thought just occured to him: maybe he just wanted to get away for a while, take a small vacation of sorts. Of course, as a shinobi he couldn't very well have one. Not that this mattered to him, because no matter how many assassins were sent to him, they'd never succeed. Not with Shukaku, not with his mother.
He closed his eyes, continuing to walk straightforward, as though at a pre-determined pace. Konoha was growing nearer. Some of their ANBU would probably try to kill him when he entered, because he didn't have a passport on him. The Chuunin exams wouldn't be an excuse this time; they'd think he was on a mission. Oh well, it wasn't his blood that'd be shed.
Now with the forests in sight, a grim smirk crossed his face. His azure eyes snapped open, revealing what he already knew to be true: the sand was being eaten up by grass- real grass, the grass of the Fire country.
As he stepped across the border of his own country, the Wind, a layer of sand suddenly shot up to his right, forming a concave shield. As the sand began sliding down, several kunai hit the dirt, falling next to his feet. He wouldn't waste the time, though, with Sabaku Kyuu or Sabaku Sou Sou.
Instead, a man hit the ground with a low cry, as a spear of sand began receeding from his chest, to come back to the host of the demon Shukaku. His eyes, however, were not shining in a grim excitement.
He smiled to himself. He'd test his worth against the real Naruto. That was the adventure his soul yearned for. Now they shimmered with that grim excitement, his eyes. Uzumaki was capable of changing people. He'd be able to prove whether Gaara was worthy of being a vessel for the fabled tanuki.
His adventure was just beginning; he took another step forward from the border, and began his trek into Konoha.
This is just a little thing I'm half-interested in. I plan on doing it with other characters, and the 'adventures' will probably be unrelated. There may be spoilers, so be warned. No real plots, tons of spelling and grammatical errors: sue me. None will be continued, so if you for some reason want to continue one of these adventures I start, feel free to. I sure as hell won't care. ---
Adventure is something that men thrive on. No matter how cynical or prude the man is, Adventure is one of the driving forces behind a man's will.
The pursuit of strength, The pursuit of power, The pursuit of knowledge, And the pursuit of self-recognition.
The test of limits, The test of will, The test of cunning, And the test of your own worth.
These things drive men as much as greed, And as much as righteous fighting. The childish desire to go on an adventure Will be there in even the most cold of hearts.
- Anonymous
---
He wished he had known why he left. Something had called to him, drawn him away from that village. They would probably be worried that he had gone missing. He didn't care too much for them, though. They'd probably send more assassins, with the excuse that this was an act of treason against the sand. He found himself anticipating it, and he noted that it was with a morbid pleasure.
Sabaku no Gaara trudged along in the desert, heading towards the forests of Konoha with no real intent to be heading there. The winds were blazing fiercely, letting several sheets of sand spray in a rythmic motion, often blurring his vision. This, of course, made no difference to him. He knew which way he was going, and he had grown up in the desert.
The sun, however, was another story. It was very hot, especially with the dark clothing he was wearing. Luckily, he had a few canteens of water, one on his right thigh, one hanging from the right wrist, and then one that hung from the strap that held his gourd on his body. It should be enough for someone like him.
His thoughts travelled to Shukaku. That could have something to do with it. Shukaku recognized it in that blonde boy. The source of his vast power. The tanuki had been quiet since that day, and he had let Gaara go on in an eerily normal way. Sleep had been very tempting these past few days, but he wouldn't allow it; he wasn't going to lose himself. Even so, Gaara knew something was up. Shukaku probably wanted a real fight, and Gaara knew how to do that. Perhaps that was why he was heading towards Konoha's vast forests.
Of course, he didn't know why he was heading for Konoha-- and he didn't care. Maybe his path would veer to the left. He was wandering with no real purpose, and he couldn't say he cared. A thought just occured to him: maybe he just wanted to get away for a while, take a small vacation of sorts. Of course, as a shinobi he couldn't very well have one. Not that this mattered to him, because no matter how many assassins were sent to him, they'd never succeed. Not with Shukaku, not with his mother.
He closed his eyes, continuing to walk straightforward, as though at a pre-determined pace. Konoha was growing nearer. Some of their ANBU would probably try to kill him when he entered, because he didn't have a passport on him. The Chuunin exams wouldn't be an excuse this time; they'd think he was on a mission. Oh well, it wasn't his blood that'd be shed.
Now with the forests in sight, a grim smirk crossed his face. His azure eyes snapped open, revealing what he already knew to be true: the sand was being eaten up by grass- real grass, the grass of the Fire country.
As he stepped across the border of his own country, the Wind, a layer of sand suddenly shot up to his right, forming a concave shield. As the sand began sliding down, several kunai hit the dirt, falling next to his feet. He wouldn't waste the time, though, with Sabaku Kyuu or Sabaku Sou Sou.
Instead, a man hit the ground with a low cry, as a spear of sand began receeding from his chest, to come back to the host of the demon Shukaku. His eyes, however, were not shining in a grim excitement.
He smiled to himself. He'd test his worth against the real Naruto. That was the adventure his soul yearned for. Now they shimmered with that grim excitement, his eyes. Uzumaki was capable of changing people. He'd be able to prove whether Gaara was worthy of being a vessel for the fabled tanuki.
His adventure was just beginning; he took another step forward from the border, and began his trek into Konoha.