Soul of the Sand
The wind swept through the poor dusty little town in the mountains, the sun being blocked out by clouds of a light gray color.
A girl no more than sixteen roamed through the streets, her hands behind her head in boredom. Her brown hair stringy and only reaching about shoulder length; her eyes a very light purple and blue, staring up at the sky almost blankly.
A light blue skinned hand touched her shoulder slowly. "Ano, Hashikoi-chan, we need to go soon..." the nineteen-year-old boy murmured, voice quiet, but echoing from not that many people around.
She nodded, pulling her hands down and turning to him, smiling some innocently. "Hai, Kisame-kun..." she murmured softly, almost softer than any whisper, but enough for him to hear.
His lips lifted up into a tiny smile, his tiny eyes accompanied by gills, three lines of them under each eye. His aqua green hair being held up by a dark blue material, it was shaped as a half hat looking thing.
He pulled his hand back off her shoulder and then gave her a light leather bag, full of food and a few extra clothes. "If we move now, we should be there in a few weeks or so. Since he will be your husband soon, maybe he'll let down his policies some." he suggested to her.
Hashikoi laughed softly, taking the leather bag and swinging it over her shoulder. "No, he's the son of the Kazekage, of course he'll be impatient, we just need to move fast." She chuckled, smiling inwardly. /He does get angry though.../ Her thoughts running away with her as she stood there, taking one last look at her home village.
Kisame watched her, being her best friend most of her life, he knew her actions, but her track of mind slipped from him. "You want to stay one more day, and I take the heat for it?" he asked, looking around at the tiny houses, or rather, shacks, smoke rising from freshly made fires.
She shook her head, "No use, it'd only make him madder, and we don't need our heads taken off..."
He nodded, thinking they didn't need to die so soon from that angry brat. Or, at least that's the way he saw her arranged husband. Nothing but a brat.
Deep in the desert...
A boy, not even eighteen yet, sat on a thrown, his fingers tapping in annoyance. Mahogany hair was short and flared on his head, jade eyes stared coldly at numerous things. Black rings were hung very discreetly around his deep socketed eye frames.
A servant by his side, watching the angry prince as his brow furrowed more.
"When are they going to get here!" he yelled loudly, it echoed through the huge halls of the palace. The servant flinched at his words, backing away some, then running swiftly on what he thought was fast... but the prince proved otherwise.
He appeared before the servant, sand thoroughly wrapped the poor man up in demented sand arms and hands. The man tried to shriek, but the sand held firmly over his lips, cutting off sound, air as well. The red-headed prince smirked.
"Sabaku Sousou..." the boy muttered in monotone.
The servant closed his eyes in pain, but the pain didn't last long. Thick, warm red liquid ran everywhere, covering everything around the prince. He smirked, looking over to a hidden servant. The poor little child watched the prince walked towards him. The boy's heart practically beat out of his chest, his pulse in his throat. The demented, blood covered prince smiled down at him.
"W-who...a-a-a-r-re......y-y-you-u-u..?" the boy mumbled softly to the prince he had never seen till now.
The red-headed prince grinned sadistically and laughed insanely, not a good combination. He peered down at the child, his eyes shot, his grin wild, his killing mood turned on.
"I am......Sabaku...no Gaara.." he laughed more, letting the boy scramble away.
The wind swept through the poor dusty little town in the mountains, the sun being blocked out by clouds of a light gray color.
A girl no more than sixteen roamed through the streets, her hands behind her head in boredom. Her brown hair stringy and only reaching about shoulder length; her eyes a very light purple and blue, staring up at the sky almost blankly.
A light blue skinned hand touched her shoulder slowly. "Ano, Hashikoi-chan, we need to go soon..." the nineteen-year-old boy murmured, voice quiet, but echoing from not that many people around.
She nodded, pulling her hands down and turning to him, smiling some innocently. "Hai, Kisame-kun..." she murmured softly, almost softer than any whisper, but enough for him to hear.
His lips lifted up into a tiny smile, his tiny eyes accompanied by gills, three lines of them under each eye. His aqua green hair being held up by a dark blue material, it was shaped as a half hat looking thing.
He pulled his hand back off her shoulder and then gave her a light leather bag, full of food and a few extra clothes. "If we move now, we should be there in a few weeks or so. Since he will be your husband soon, maybe he'll let down his policies some." he suggested to her.
Hashikoi laughed softly, taking the leather bag and swinging it over her shoulder. "No, he's the son of the Kazekage, of course he'll be impatient, we just need to move fast." She chuckled, smiling inwardly. /He does get angry though.../ Her thoughts running away with her as she stood there, taking one last look at her home village.
Kisame watched her, being her best friend most of her life, he knew her actions, but her track of mind slipped from him. "You want to stay one more day, and I take the heat for it?" he asked, looking around at the tiny houses, or rather, shacks, smoke rising from freshly made fires.
She shook her head, "No use, it'd only make him madder, and we don't need our heads taken off..."
He nodded, thinking they didn't need to die so soon from that angry brat. Or, at least that's the way he saw her arranged husband. Nothing but a brat.
Deep in the desert...
A boy, not even eighteen yet, sat on a thrown, his fingers tapping in annoyance. Mahogany hair was short and flared on his head, jade eyes stared coldly at numerous things. Black rings were hung very discreetly around his deep socketed eye frames.
A servant by his side, watching the angry prince as his brow furrowed more.
"When are they going to get here!" he yelled loudly, it echoed through the huge halls of the palace. The servant flinched at his words, backing away some, then running swiftly on what he thought was fast... but the prince proved otherwise.
He appeared before the servant, sand thoroughly wrapped the poor man up in demented sand arms and hands. The man tried to shriek, but the sand held firmly over his lips, cutting off sound, air as well. The red-headed prince smirked.
"Sabaku Sousou..." the boy muttered in monotone.
The servant closed his eyes in pain, but the pain didn't last long. Thick, warm red liquid ran everywhere, covering everything around the prince. He smirked, looking over to a hidden servant. The poor little child watched the prince walked towards him. The boy's heart practically beat out of his chest, his pulse in his throat. The demented, blood covered prince smiled down at him.
"W-who...a-a-a-r-re......y-y-you-u-u..?" the boy mumbled softly to the prince he had never seen till now.
The red-headed prince grinned sadistically and laughed insanely, not a good combination. He peered down at the child, his eyes shot, his grin wild, his killing mood turned on.
"I am......Sabaku...no Gaara.." he laughed more, letting the boy scramble away.