Relentless

Chapter 1: Enter Gaara

Disclaimer: 'Naruto' in its entirety does not belong to me. Sachiko however is my creation :-D

Warning for 'Enter Gaara': Nothing
I'm finally getting used to typing longer prose… :-D

Instinct told her the scent of soil and minerals would never reach her again. She was destined to live out her life as a warm sex dummy. To contain and consume semen. Reared and kept alive to pleasure the sweaty, lusty men in need of sexual release. She often serviced three or four at a time, with many watching. A large army was often in need of such release, she was once instructed. She never knew where they came from, only that the orange light from the sky would signal both the start and stop of such sessions. She once questioned, after finishing a tale of the history of the wars of some ancient civilisation, what the value of human lives were, to be so easily tossed away. She pursued that familiar train of thought again, probing it with her mind, wondering darkly why she had to pleasure and release the tension these men obviously carried with them. Was she actually helping them cope with whatever it was only to have them toss away their lives? Was that even to have been her function? Was that her purpose in life? Was there another purpose? Was it possible to have another purpose? What would happen when she stopped? Would she cease to be? Who would do it? Was she the one who had to end her own life?

She frowned, grappling with it, not comprehending her thoughts, feeling weighed down by a sensation she had felt for many years before. Only now… It was intensified, stronger. She had thought this way before. But it was more intense this time. She'd never had the time to think so much previously. It wasn't that the men weren't turning up as frequently.

In the past year since her re-capture, she had become gradually aware of the darker, less optimistic nature of her thoughts. The ability to separate her mind from her physical body had come at a price. Aside from causing her disposition to become more subdued and vastly more controlled, it also gave her more time to think upon the questions that would flash into her head. Somewhere inside her, she knew that her age and nature of her thoughts were incongruent, but she didn't see the logic in deluding herself.

She splashed the cooling water over the rest of her body, as if it would help cleanse away the thoughts that clung to her, before rising and changing, determining to get out for some clear air. Her current mood dictated that she do so before her thoughts stagnated to the niggling conclusion of self-murder.

"Oomff!" In her headlong rush, she hadn't been careful or lucky enough to avoid the one man she had instinctively knew was responsible for her plight, in more ways than one. Narrowing her eyes, she glared icily, undermining the respectful tone as she quietly greeted him. Years had taught her how to toe the line with this man.

"Otou-san."

"The guards?"

A smirk. "They need more training for their stamina, otou-san. Barely two times and they had to sleep. Are they new?" She goaded

"Go back."

"I need some fresh air. You may accompany me if you require some reassurance that I will not escape." 'Though I see no point. I will never get past that gate. No-one escapes the devil and his Hell'

She had done this before, going for walks, although it usually took quite an effort to seduce the guards to allow her the brief moments of mock freedom. It was more that they loved her humiliation and promised sexual treats than they were worried about her attempting to escape. The Kazekage had made sure that her childhood had instilled that within her.

She hadn't actually planned for this walk per say… But she did prefer to keep the guards as quiet as possible so they wouldn't disturb her after each night. Having them conk out after fornification was usually the most efficient method.

"No. I've better things to do. Go back." If Sachiko thought hard enough, she would almost imagine some derision or condescendence in his tone. Something to show that he cared enough about her to feel. As always though… There was only a voice without inflection or heat.

Nodding stiffly, she acknowledged his words, displaying respect she never felt before heading back into the room to obtain the brush and paper she suddenly wanted to have with her.

Gaara rounded the quiet bend, having just returned from his nightly vigil on the rooftops. Nightly, he tormented himself with the anguish of never having really been loved by Yashamaru; nightly he reassured himself of his existence, in some form or other. No one after all really cared about the rats that the Sunagakure no longer had scuttling about, so whether they died or not didn't really affect them. Then again, if they found out that he was the reason why, they just might decide that it was of great importance to them. It didn't matter to him though. He'd just have more practice using his chakra.

He frowned, joggled to the physical present by the atypically thick mist ensconcing him. His senses were faltering, confused momentarily by the fog. Right, left or straight ahead? He was used to walking the path without paying attention, trusting his sand to protect him when he needed it to so he was free to let his guard down as he walked. Walking straight on felt right.

Kuso! He'd been walking about for a good twenty minutes now and the fog seemed to be thicker around here. Sand seemed to be stuck hovering in the air, wrapped in the dense water droplets suspended in mid-air. He knew that fog wasn't all that strange to have in Sunagakure, especially with the extreme fluctuations in temperature, but still… He furrowed his brows, slowly working out why the mist would be denser here than elsewhere. Come to think of it, why was there grass beneath his feet? He was in a desert!

His fingers flexed, summoning the sand that was ever present in the Hidden Village of Sand. His little silicon minions answered his call, assuring him that he was in the right village. Suspicious, he immediately performed the genjutsu dispelling seal with a deadpanned "Kai!"

Instantly, the sight-hindering mist vanished, leaving him near a dilapidated shack three stories high with walls badly in need of repainting, having long fallen prey to the weather and sand. It looked lonely standing on its own, no other establishment near enough to Two men lay on the ground on futons, enjoying a pleasant fantasy, hands travelling slowly over their own bodies, rubbing here or scratching there.

Gaara looked on with mild disgust scrawled over his features, side-stepping around them and pushing the door – only to meet with resistance. Stepping back, he moulded the sand to his will again and created a shield around him before preparing to crush the door. Nothing would get in his way.

Sachiko placed her hand on the doorknob, twisting it, scowling darkly… It had taken her longer than usual to gather her materials. Someone had thought it funny to scatter and leave them in places she would never have left them in. She hated it when they did that. It no longer bothered her that they touched her belongings so much as annoyed her to have to play hide-and-seek with inanimate objects. Their immaturity really astounded her. She really didn't see any real reason why they enjoyed making her life as hellish as possible. Didn't she comply with all their needs? Greedy selfish –

"Krrpllaaacckktt-shkkkt!!!" was the only protest the wood-and-paper door made as it gave way to the merciless sand…