Gaara awoke, panting before his eyes opened. His panicked gaze flicked around the room; white walls, white futon, simple blanket...
Baka, baka, baka! Sleep? SLEEP?
His mind reeled. What had he done? He didn't even stop to ask himself why he cared, why he was suddenly acting so... different.
The cleanliness of the room slowly sunk into him. He was Gaara. He was not Shukaku, or some anthropomorphous in-between form.
There was no blood. No blood.
Finally, he looked at Hinata, lying peacefully on her back, arms folded across her chest. Gaara held his breath and reached over to touch her throat and check her pulse.
She was alive. Gaara breathed again.
He stopped and pondered that. Shukaku had missed his chance to take over Gaara's body; Gaara could only assume that it was a result of the murdered Genins he had devoured. His head quickly began to ache with the effort of thinking about it and he put it out of his mind, looking at Hinata to distract him.
He was surprised anew at how different she looked when she was asleep. The anxiety and self-consciousness fell away from her face, and she seemed truly peaceful. As he stared at her, Gaara felt his lips curve upwards in a smile... the first true smile in many, many years.
"Tenshi..." he whispered absently. "What are you," he mused. "What are you, little Hyuuga girl, that holds my demon at bay for a whole night? Tenshi... aishiteru, Hinata-chan..." he whispered suddenly, leaning forward and kissing her gently on the cheek. She stirred, but didn't wake.
His smile vanished, stillborn in an instant of reality. Tenshi... Who was he fooling? She was pure and beautiful, and he was a demon-spawned hellchild. He reached inside his mind, screamed for Shukaku, and lifted himself in sand, sweeping away in the blink of an eye.
Leaving only kanji, etched into the floorboards above Hinata's futon, identical to the tattoo on his forehead.
Kankurou was worried. Baki was concerned.
Temari, on discovering Gaara's absence, had immediately bypassed those secondary emotions and opted straight for apocalyptic. She had come to check on Gaara, as she felt she had to in this place. She discovered the room empty of not only the Sand-nin, but also his gourd.
Which meant Gaara was wandering the corridors after midnight, in a house he had already expressed interest in depopulating, carrying his link to mighty Shukaku on his back.
"Where is he?" she demanded of every Hyuuga she passed. They recoiled from her fury, but she had already stormed further down the corridor. "Where is he? Use your Byakugan, you white-eyed freaks!" she screamed. "Find Gaara!"
"Temari," Kankurou said repeatedly, trying to break through her obsessive rage. "Temari!" Finally she spun on him, the sheer force of her anger pushing him back a few cautious steps.
"Do you have any idea what will happen if he's gone around killing people? Oro—" She caught her tongue just in time; probably the worst place in the village to drop that name! "Kazekage will make Shukaku's wrath look like a joke!" she cried instead, still a truth, but one far less terrifying than the first. She turned her back on Kankurou, clutching her hands to her chest, dropping her head and closing her eyes.
"Gaara..." she whispered. "Onegai... be safe..."
"Hai, Temari," Gaara replied unexpectedly. Her head came up, and as if in a dream she looked on her brother's face.
"Gaara!" she cried, almost sobbing with relief as she ran to him. "Gaara," she whispered, reaching for him. The sand made no move to stop her, until her relieved expression contorted into a snarl. "Gaara—ouch!" she exclaimed, pulling her bruised hand back from the sudden barrier.
He regarded her calmly. "Temari-oneechan..." His eyes dropped. "I worried you. Gomen ne." He walked past Temari, who stared after him stunned.
Kankurou looked similarly perplexed, standing with his mouth open as Gaara passed him, too. Only Baki kept the presence of mind to ask where he had been all night.
"With my friend," Gaara answered, not turning. The minds of all three Shinobi flashed to Shukaku, but incorrectly. "She's asleep. She's alive. I am going for a walk." Leaving his siblings and sensei to wonder, he turned a corner in the hall and stepped up his pace. He wanted to be well away from here by the time Hinata woke up. His presence was simply too dangerous for him to accept it, and their friendship would have to continue from afar.
Temari's cheeks were wet with amazed, worried tears. "Did... did Gaara just apologise for worrying me? And call me... oneechan?" The other two nodded, equally stunned. "That's twice in two days... something is happening, Baki-sensei! Gaara's acting very strangely!"
"You're right," Baki replied soberly. "We should keep a closer eye on him." He nodded to Kankurou, who bowed and left, hurrying to catch up to his brother.
"What's wrong, sensei?" Temari asked, caught off-guard at his reaction. "You don't think this is a good thing?"
She was standing too far from Baki to hear his mumbled reply.
"No change in one like Gaara is ever a good thing."
Kankurou panted. He had been looking for Gaara for hours now, and he was getting more than a little annoyed by his young brother's stealthy prowess. Despite the heavy muscle he had developed over years of carrying his marionette on his back, Kankurou wasn't built for extended speed, and he knew it. The robe that protected him from the desert sun only overheated him here, and even his elaborate war-paint was running, mixing with the sweat pouring down his brow.
Finally, blessed relief. He stopped in the shade of a tree, glaring at a child sitting on the bench there until she ran away. Kankurou took the seat, dropping Karasu at his feet and breathing deeply as he tried to slow his heart rate.
Why was he looking for Gaara, anyway? his mind asked. Baki could have located him easily enough. Baki might even be able to bring him back to the Hyuuga house, something Kankurou doubted he could accomplish. He kicked Karasu suddenly, bitterly jealous of the uncaring puppet.
"Wish I was more like you," he grunted. "Just get carried around, do my job and be happy about it. No running after crazed killers... no, worse, running after Gaara..."
His words petered out suddenly as he beheld a strange sight; a cardboard box was making its way down the street towards him. Some effort had obviously gone into painting it to resemble the texture of the path beneath it, but as a disguise it was ludicrous. Kankurou watched in bemusement as the box shuffled past him, oblivious to the imposing Sand-nin, and continued on its way.
He shook his head. What a village. He hadn't wanted to come here in the first place, but Gaara had made it quite clear what would happen if Kankurou failed to help him become a Chuunin. He privately suspected, perhaps rightly, that Gaara only desired the title so that he could legitimately challenge Jounin-rank Shinobi.
What a village.
The weather didn't agree with him. The food made him ill. The inhabitants annoyed him, and the formality and arrogance of the Hyuuga grated on his nerves. Gaara was still worse than this miserable place, but not by much.
Kankurou didn't even much want to be a Shinobi, at least in the field. He had been happy as a child, just improving his puppeteering skills. But he had promised their mother. And he had discovered, much to his disgust, that he was a good Shinobi, that his aptitude with Karasu and the new prototype Kuroari cut down warriors unused to striking things that didn't bleed.
But Gaara excelled, surpassing Kankurou like the sun outshone the moon. He had his own mechanical demons, but they were clumsy imitations of life. Gaara had supernatural aid. Had he been infused with the power, he would have devoted himself to his Nindo.
His mother hadn't chosen Kankurou, though. Sealing didn't have to be performed on a child, although it was customary; the spirit would permanently alter the nature of the recipient and it provided less trauma for everyone involved if the personality of the individual hadn't developed yet.
Above everything, Kankurou wanted to make his mother happy. He didn't know about her unnatural bonding with Shukaku, didn't know about her wish for bloody vengeance against his father. All he knew was that she hated the village with a burning passion, and had blessed Gaara with the power to fulfill her dreams of fire and destruction. But he showed no interest in emptying the village he had grown up in, and for that, Kankurou truly hated Gaara.
Toughened by their life in the harsh desert, the people of the Sand village were no easy prey. Kankurou knew he would probably never hold the power to follow through his mother's vow, but at the very least he would make her proud.
He would protect Gaara, no matter how much the sight of the pint-sized, ungrateful Shinobi disgusted him.
A/N: This was up early; I'll be out of touch for a few days. What did you think? I'm not sure how well my sweetness and light works, it's not something I'm terribly practiced at. Notice that I didn't make any reference to sex, them being preteen and all (despite Gaara and Hinata both being damn beautiful). Kankurou's attitude fits my understanding of the series... I got that he really didn't like Gaara, but tolerated him out of fear and for Temari's sake. So why didn't he just abandon them? He doesn't have any problem with becoming a Missing-nin. So I used their mother. Suggestions/comments would be much appreciated.
I have a request for you all; send a challenge or two my way! I want to get back and focus on my writing, reclaim my rusty skills. Will you even read me if I write more Naruto?
Next chapter 11- Tears. Gaara is too scared to return to Hinata? What will she think of this? Gaara's family notice the time he spends with Hinata, and aren't happy about it. What will be the outcome? Watch this space...
Oh, and if Thornblade reads this—I'm in Australia! Hello, timezone difference! Sorry if I'm posting after your bedtime... you know my name, it's not hard to find.
He he. "White-eyed freaks..." You don't know how long I've wanted to say that to a certain person who took my rightful role as Neji in our NaruMUSH.
Charm.