Hate Me

A Naruto fan-fiction

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto

Scar 3: Death and Sand

The sun spilled through the thin curtains and onto the wood floors, softly illuminating everything around the window in shadow and dim light. Sakura still slept soundly in her bed. Her head was to the side with her hair curling and laying all around her face, and a pink lock curled on top of her cheek. A small, relaxed fist was just above the covers next to her face, and the layer covers were pulled up to her wrist and jawbone. She looked so peaceful, and her breathing was even and slow. You would have never known that her own houseguest had threatened her and smacked her.

Silence still ensued for Gaara; the only thing that had changed was that the sun had risen. After leaving the kitchen, Gaara had laid on his bed, eyes wide in the dark room, and listened as Sakura padded to her room, and shut the door. She didn't bother him, or do anything. From what he heard, all she did was stand there a moment, let out a loud breath, and then walk to her bedroom, flicking off the lights as she went.

It was around seven in the morning, and Gaara had never slept, as usual. He finally got bored of the room again by daybreak, and ventured out. For some reason, he didn't want to go near the kitchen, and he was too bored to care why. He stepped out into the large main room, and looked down the row of doors when another strange feeling crept up on him. Too bored to care why again, he just followed the urge and walked one door over to the one room Gaara had never entered. The door wasn't locked or shut all the way, so he just pushed it gently with his fingers. It wined quietly as he slowly pushed it open, to reveal a sleeping Sakura in her bed, with the covers up to her chin. The room was relatively blank, and the white, thin curtains billowed lightly from wind made by the whirring fan above her. Next to her bed were a chestnut nightstand with a metal light, a novel and a vase with some flowers in it, and above her bed were two pictures in golden frames. One picture was of her and a large group of other ninjas, and the other was a painting of a single pink, purple and yellow orchid.

Gaara's dark eyes looked at the blank white walls, the white comforter and blue sheets that stuck up underneath the comforter and came up around her face. How pure and peaceful it seemed. But when his eyes landed on her sleeping form, he couldn't look away. She laid there, still and sleeping, and his delicate ears could hear her soft and slow breathing. She was like an angel that had fallen from the sky, and he couldn't help but stare. His action from the night before suddenly became stupid, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What the hell was wrong with him? First he hated the kitchen, second he had the impulse to visit her room, third he couldn't stop looking at her, and now, fourth, he suddenly felt horrible and idiotic for just slapping some stupid girl!

Scowling, he ripped his gaze away from her (which took great effort) and walked, out of the room.

This place was making him go insane!

But didn't he already cross that border?

Once you're insane, you can't become more insane, can you?

Is there another level to insanity?

Or could you only go back?

Shaking his head, he walked back into his room, and changed into new clothes.

Then he brushed his teeth, got a drink of water, and left the apartment.

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Konoha was already a bustle with morning activity, but it was no comfort to the sand ninja. He just walked silently, his form never standing out too much in the crowd, unless you saw the large gourd he toted around on his back. There was no head protector with the sand village's emblem on it anymore; he had burned it before he left for the land of the sand, and wasn't upset about it either. Why should he be?

Things were getting so complicated, and even more annoying than they usually were. He began to wonder if he should leave this place, and become a missing-nin. Maybe join Akatsuki? He listed off these options frankly, as if they weren't too serious or evil, sort of like deciding which cereal you wanted, lucky charms being the missing-nin or cheerios being Akatsuki. After all, the marshmallows were the joy of no human contact, and, therefore, no complications.

He got out of the moving crowd and leaned against a pole that held up the shaded tent, and rubbed the side of his face. It was so cold! Rubbing his arms, he watched as his breath formed little clouds in the air. He had no warm clothes, and hadn't expected to come to a place this cold!

"Son, your lips are blue. You should go home and put on your coat." The tent owner said, looking at him worriedly. The owner stood behind a table covered in trinkets he was selling.

Gaara just scowled, and replied, "Shut-up and mind your own business." Then he walked away, still shivering and rubbing his arms. He walked on the backside of the tents, away from the large crowd, and continued to feel colder and colder, and even numb. Without really thinking, he just continued to walk through the crowd, who all wore thick jackets, hats and scarves, and began to trod through the open, dead, winter fields. During the spring and summer, these fields were alive with sunflowers or grain. By walking through it now, you wouldn't have known it had ever carried a single living thing.

Biting his lip, he closed his eyes, and kept walking in the never-ending field, his mind sorting through the things he had spent his whole life trying to understand.

"Why am I here?"

His voice echoed softly, and the crunching of his feet stopped. For years, the simplest questions had bothered him, and now, they were even more in his face.

Gaara had been taught from an early age about fate. He was taught that fate couldn't be stopped, that everything happened for a reason. So what was the reason that he was here?

His lips were purple, his skin was paler, and he continued to shiver uncontrollably. A horrible cough echoed in the empty fields, and his eyes grew wide as he realized he didn't know how to get back to the busy streets, much less Sakura's apartment.

"Will I die here?" he wondered aloud. It seemed highly unlikely; after all, he had survived too much to perish now. Without another thought, he turned and began to tread back the way he had came; now unable to feel any of his limbs while his eyelids began to darken from the severe cold. At first, he thought, 'I need to get home.' And this simple sentence in his mind made him halt. Home? What was home? He was a wanderer…a home meant a place you were welcome…and haven…he had no home.

With a slight shake of his chilled body, he then continued to wander through the thick snow.

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"Gaara?"

She knocked lightly on his door, and then pushed it open with two dainty fingers when there was no response. There was the room, with the bed unmade, and the blanket thrown across the bed without care. A pile of clothes laid beside the bed next to the sack he had used to carry all of his belongings; his gourd was gone.

"Shit."

Sakura slammed the door and then ran over to the coat rack and began to pull on her coat, scarf and then her hat. While getting dressed, she hadn't thought to look for Gaara; he was a big boy, he could take care of himself! But, of course, she didn't remember that being a big boy meant being a big idiot and running off into the cold. Gaara had not a coat or warm clothes, and there fore was probably catching his death of cold out in the snowy morning!

She locked her door behind her, her gloves in her mouth, and then struggled to pull them on while bounding down the stairs.

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How long had he walked?

Why won't you die!

An hour? Two?

All I wanted…all I wanted…

A day?

How hard could it be, eh?

It was so cold.

Does it hurt, you child of death?

It was so cold.

Does it hurt to experience what you are!

What is this cold? Where is the sand that poured in dunes forever, or the striking wind that flew the sand into your eyes?

I wonder who will live in your place.

What was this white?

Shut-up.

It was cold; but he couldn't feel anything anymore.

Shut-up!

It was so cold.

SHUT-UP!

And now, it was black.

How does it feel to die?

Just like the ceiling.

It feels…beautiful…

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Hey guys!

NO! IT'S NOT OVER! SO REVIEW AND KEEP READING!

Thanks for reviewing…and now, you have two more chapters! As you ca probably tell, I'm going to update like this. An interlude and a chapter, every time; with the exception of the epilogue, which you all will die without. HAH! Just kidding! So, have you come up with any theories? Feel free to let me in on them! I'm sure I'll get a good kick out of them….

And I'm guessing that everyone understands the whole 'past present' thing, right? Great!

Thanks to my reviewers!

Queen Cow and Steak (Thanks for the 'GIRL POWER' thing…I got a kick out of that! I'm glad you have such high hopes for everything-and, since you love hamburgers, have you ever been to Red Robin? It's a gourmet hamburger place I LOVE! But hey, I live on the east coast of the US, so they might not have it wherever you are. Let me know any of your other comments, and especially your thoughts on these next two chapters!)

Rowan (Well, if you like cliffhangers…I think I just gave you a good one! As for family…I can often cause weird happenings too! Anyway, just enjoy the weird moments! I kind of think they're special…like funny dumb blonde moments with friends! Let me know what you think of these new chapters!)

Scapegoat (I like your name! I reminds me of something I'm supposed to study in History, though…anyway, glad you like this, Its spring break, but hey, why not think a bit? Its not like we're at school! Thanks for giving this a try despite. Let me know what you think of these new chapters!)

MichSchonken (Thanks for the comment! I hope reading this really is fun! Let me know of your opinions of these two chapters!)

Thanks,

Review,

Love,

-IHearVoices