Note: The honorific –sama will make an appearance in this chapter. As you have probably noticed, I have avoided using honorifics to make things easier on me, but I think that it will work better in this case if I use –sama. This sort of thing may pop up again later in the story. Just roll with it. ;)

I forgot to say this in the first two chapters: I don't own Naruto. Way to shatter my dreams, everyone! (runsoff crying)

Drifting Sand

Chapter Three

Cho… Han… I'm the Guy with the Sand

Gaara had spent most of the morning sitting beneath the branches of an elm tree. Sleep was not something that he allowed for himself, fearing that the monster sealed within his body, Shukaku, would consume him. Still, he did rest periodically, and this seemed as good a place as any to do so.

As the warm sun climbed to its zenith, he leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree and stared up at the canopy of leaves. They were of a different shape, but he couldn't help but be reminded of the symbol of Konoha, and the people he knew there.

He had considered making a detour to the north, now that he had entered the Country of Fire, and pay a visit to the people who had so changed his life. Konoha wasn't very far from where he was at, after all. This thought was shaken from his mind, however, as he remembered that he had wanted to make this trip on his own. Going to a familiar place so early in his journey would defeat the purpose of going on the journey to begin with.

Leaving these musings behind, he stood and looked once more at the city that lay before him, sprawled out in the valley below.

The young shinobi had overheard travelers in the last village speak of this place. The Gambling City of Gyoukou was famous as being the third largest gambling spot in the country, and one of the largest cities as well. It was obvious from looking at the place that these were not exaggerations. The city was as big as the Hidden Village of Sand, if not a little larger.

Making his way back to the nearby road, Gaara proceeded down into the city. Looking around, he was in awe of how many gambling places there were in the crowded streets. It seemed that if the building didn't house a place to bet your money, it was a place to spend it on alcohol. He found himself wondering if there were really so many people that enjoyed wasting their money and time on such things.

As he continued further into the city, the crowds thickened. Even so, the Sand ninja easily saw the other boy coming toward him. As he bumped into Gaara, he seemed a little surprised at how easily he was knocked to the ground.

Glancing at the angry looking boy, who seemed to be of a similar age to Gaara, the shinobi began to walk on. "Hey!" the black haired boy yelled, "You should watch where you are going! Aren't you even going to apologize?"

Stopping, Gaara turned his emotionless, black ringed eyes on the irritated youth, who seemed to loose some of his ire under the cold gaze. Slowly taking a few steps toward the still seated boy, he reached into his pocket and held out a paperback book with an orange cover. "I am sorry that you are a better target than a thief," he said flatly. The boys eyes widened in surprise as Gaara added, "Perhaps you should focus your efforts on holding on to your own property before you try to steal someone else's." Looking angry and scared, he glanced at the book Gaara was returning to him, saw his cold eyes staring at him again, then scrambled away into the milling crowd.

Watching the thief run, Gaara had no desire to expend the effort to follow. Thieves were no concern of his. Especially not one that is so bad at it that Gaara had been able to not only take back the envelope that Ryoto had given him, but also take the other boy's book.

Having reminded himself that he still held the paperback in his hand, he glanced briefly at it. He saw the picture on the front, a woman being chased by a man, and almost discarded the thing. Perhaps it would be good to read something new, he thought to himself. It had been quite a while since he had read a novel. Pocketing it for later, the red haired ninja continued further into the city.

As he watched, he saw more and more things that he wanted to observe. It didn't take very long before he decided that he would likely need two or three days to see everything that he wanted to. Checking to make sure he still had the money that he had brought with him on his trip, he turned into the first building he found that said inn on it. It also said bar, cards, dice, and cabaret on it, but he wasn't interested in any of that.

The inside of the large building was impressive. The walls were decked with many fine paintings and elaborate woodwork. Expensive looking vases stood in the corners and very finely dressed people milled about, laughing and talking about their winnings or how much they had to drink. Gaara's clothes were made more for durability than fashion, not to mention that he was covered in a fine layer of dust from the road. He noticed that he was standing out somewhat from the other guests. He would have to do something about that.

Moving up to the front desk, the middle aged man working there looked warily at the red haired boy. "I would like a room," he stated simply, "I will be staying for three days. How much will that cost?"

The man gave a distasteful snigger, "I doubt your allowance will suffice. Perhaps you should find another place that is more suited to your…social class."

"I did not ask for your opinion on the matter," he felt some irritation at the condescending tone in this mans voice, "I asked you how much it would cost."

Rolling his eyes as he sighed to himself, he briefly checked the register, completely unaware of how close to death he might have been. "We only have a few rooms available," he said, apparently annoyed that he had to humor the dust covered boy in front of him, "The least expensive one will be the Hikata Suite. With the fee for having no reservation, a three day stay in that room will be twenty thousand ryo." Gaara nodded, unfastening a tie on one of his pockets and drawing out a large stack of bills. The deskman's eyes widened as his mouth hung open at the sight.

Gaara had brought with him nearly 50,000 ryo with him when he left the Hidden Village of Sand (being the son of the Kazekage, even the hated son, had its advantages). He had barely spent any of it in the nearly three weeks he had been traveling thus far, so he didn't think much of the price for the room. Of course, he had never really dealt with money before, so he had no idea that he was handing over enough money to almost buy a small yacht.

The deskman slowly took the proffered cash with the look of shock still covering his face. Looking down at the money in his hands, and realizing that it was indeed real, his face suddenly broke into a broad smile, "I apologize for my words earlier, it was inexcusable." With a flourish, he passed the money off to a confused looking underling and jingled a key as he walked around the desk, "Right this way, young master! I can have one of our men carry your bag for you, do you have any other luggage?"

"No," he responded, not entirely sure what to make of the deskman's sudden change in demeanor, "and I can carry it myself."

"Nonsense!" he bellowed, "I will not have one of our guests carry his own bag to his room! Please, let our man carry it for you." He motioned, and a boy in his late teens bounded forward, holding his arms out.

"You'll need a bigger man," Gaara said flatly.

The boy seemed a little irked, but otherwise maintained his composure. "Please, young master," he said dutifully, "Allow me to carry your bag for you."

Not caring either way, certainly not enough to make a big deal out of it, Gaara shrugged his large sand made backpack off one shoulder and swung it around so he was holding it out with both hands to the older boy. "I have it, sir," he said from the other side of the normal looking bag. When the young shinobi let go, however, the bellhop discovered just how abnormally heavy it was.

Several people nearby looked over when the bag slammed into the floor, taking the teenager with it. "What are you doing?" the deskman demanded, "Hurry up, and don't drop it again! If you break something belonging to this young man, it will come out of your pay!"

"There is nothing breakable in the bag," he told them, though neither one seemed to hear. The bellhop, struggling with all his might, was barely able to slide it around a little bit. Motioning to some of the other bellhops, who had been trying not to laugh out loud at the trouble their friend was having, two more ran over.

"Now, sir," the deskman's smile had returned, "If you will follow me, I will show you to your room." Turning, he motioned for Gaara to follow him as he moved further into the building.

"My name is Nikkuro, by the way," he said as they started, "I'm sorry I forgot to ask you yours."

"Gaara," he said simply.

"Please do not hesitate to call on me during your stay here, Gaara-sama. I exist to serve." Gaara nodded absently as they moved from the large lobby into the voluminous main floor. "This is the gambling area for the Hotel Daioh. Any game that you might want to play is here, though you are under the age limit," he rubbed the side of his nose, "Maybe your Mom or Dad will let you play a little when they arrive?"

Tensing slightly at the man's words, he quickly got hold of himself and replied dispassionately, "My parents are dead."

It was the deskman's turn to feel uncomfortable. "Oh, I ah," he stuttered out apologetically, "I'm sorry, young man. I truly am. I've seen that sort of thing all too often in this town."

"What do you mean," he asked, curious about the last part.

Clearing his throat and trying to smile again, Nikkuro tried to change the subject, "There's no need for you to dwell on something like that, Gaara-sama! You came here to relax and have fun!" Noticing the narrowed eyes looking his way, the older man gave a relenting sigh, "All right, but please don't ask me about anything else so depressing." Gaara made no moves to show whether he acceded to the request, so he continued in a slightly more hushed tone.

"There has always been a seedy element in this city," he said, "It goes with the territory, so to speak. But in the last five years it has grown much worse. One of the gangs has all but consolidated its power and taken control of the south eastern part of the city."

"They are trying to take over the city?" Gaara concluded out loud.

"That's what they want, yes," Nikkuro nodded, quickly adding, "But don't worry, this hotel is completely legitimate, and we keep it free of criminal riff raff like them." Sighing again, he continued, "They use their cheap gambling dens to draw people in when they are down on their luck. Dealers in these places use all sorts of methods to cheat innocent people out of their money. Then they persuade them to try higher stakes games to get out of debt, but it just gets worse. They force entire families to work off their debt, splitting them up most of the time. They sometimes work the parents to death, if they don't kill them outright. It's horrible."

Gaara continued to listen, but the man seemed like he did not wish to speak about it anymore. Suddenly stopping, the large smile had returned to his face, "This is your room." He motioned to the double doors that they stood next to and pulled out the key that he had shown earlier. Unlocking the doors, he pushed both of them open to reveal the huge room beyond.

Simply staring for a moment, Gaara was surprised at just how large his room was. He had seen dojos smaller than this place. "This is for me?" he asked, "I am not sharing the room with others?"

Nikkuro chuckled a little at this, "Good joke, young master!" The shinobi wanted to tell him that it wasn't a joke, but decided that it still answered his question. This humongous room was his. "This is obviously the living area, and the kitchen area is right here. It's more for drinks than anything else." He walked across to one of the walls as Gaara watched the three bellhops struggle through the door with his pack. "Through this door, is the bath area and adjoining toilet."

"There is more to this room?" Gaara asked, the slightest bit of disbelief creeping into his voice.

"Oh yes, young master," he replied with a smile, "I think you will find it most satisfactory. Also, you will find several sizes of robes in the bath area. You can find the one that fits you best and wear that while your clothes are washed. Oh!" suddenly he sounded like he had just remembered something important, "One of the best features of the Hikata Suite!" Chuckling to himself, he quickly pranced across to the back of the room, flicking a switch.

Gaara watched as what looked like the back wall began to roll up and away into the ceiling, leaving the entire wall as one huge window. Why do people desire things like this? You could look out a normal window just as easily. Besides, this is just asking some no-talent ninja-wannabe to spy on you. However unnecessary he deemed it, the older man seemed so proud of the thing, Gaara decided not to voice his criticisms.

As he walked back towards the double doors, the deskman continued, "If you want any food or drinks just call for room service and they will bring whatever you like. Kotori will be up shortly, so if you wish to take a bath, please feel free. Enjoy your stay here and let me know if you need anything else, young master." With a deep bow from all four of them, Nikkuro and the bellhops backed out the double doors as they closed.

Gaara blinked after them and wondered for a moment. Kotori? He shook his head as he moved over to the enormous window overlooking the city.

The orange glow of the sun was washing over the taller buildings in the late afternoon, leaving the streets and the shorter structures in shadow. It was something else that he had seen before, but he again found it strangely new. This time, however, there was something tickling the back of his mind as he observed the scene before him. Even as he felt pleased that he had found this interesting dichotomy, he also felt something less appealing about it, though he didn't know what exactly.

Noticing something out of place, he removed something from his pocket. It was the orange book that he had taken from the boy earlier. He had forgotten about the thing over the last several hours of walking through the city. Gaara considered reading some of it, but didn't get the chance to even open it.

The knock on the double doors didn't surprise him, since he had felt a presence well before they had reached his room, but he did feel as though he had been yanked out of his thoughts. With mild irritation at the interruption he tossed the book on the bed, walked silently across the room, and opened one of the doors.

In the hallway stood a woman so beautiful that even Gaara was momentarily taken aback. She looked as though she was in her mid twenties, and her long black hair was held up with two long ornamental pins. Her green kimono was the same emerald color as her eyes, though she wore it so that the collar was a little closer to her shoulders than to her neck. She gave a warm smile at the youth in front of her, "You must be Gaara-sama."

Gaara, for his part, was trying to keep his mind clear. She could be an enemy, I have to stay focused! Her smile proved to be more disarming than he was prepared for, however. She slowly moved into the room as he backed up slightly, closed the door behind her, then bowed toward the red haired boy, "I'm Kotori. I will ensure that you have a pleasant stay here at our hotel. Normally I would tell the customer that I'm only here for company, and nothing more." She gave him a knowing wink and a sly smile, "But I don't think I have to worry about you trying anything ungentlemanly." He was having trouble doing much more than blinking at her, something she seemed to find most amusing.

Ungentlemanly? Isn't that what Chika asked me? "What does that mean, exactly?"

She gave him a questioning look, obviously not sure what he meant, "What, you mean ungentlemanly?" He nodded, causing her cheeks to show a slight shade of pink, "Well, uh, I guess…we can just discuss that later!"

Leaving Gaara at the door, she made her way toward the couch. Finally grasping his senses, he blurted out, "What are you doing here?"

Her lips had a slight upward curl to them as she sat down, "Like I said, I'm here to make sure that you enjoy yourself while you're here. I can show you around the hotel and-"

Shaking his head slightly, he spoke again in a much firmer voice, "Why?"

Suddenly looking quite hurt, her voice almost seemed to tremble, "You, you don't want me here?"

He found himself surprised at this woman's behavior yet again, "I simply asked you why you are here."

She stood up, and began to hurry herself across the room as quickly as she could wearing a kimono, "It's fine if you don't want me around. Since I'm not good enough, I'll just go!" The emotion in her voice seemed to strike him like a blow to the stomach. As he watched her shuffle past him, he saw a tear on her pale cheek.

"Wait." He found himself grabbing her hand, pulling her to a stop, "I do not wish to upset you. Stay here, if it will make you feel better."

Kotori turned to smile at him with a face completely devoid of signs of crying, "Thank you, Gaara-sama! I would love to stay!" Shuffling back to the couch with a pleased smile that seemed to make the room better illuminated, she left Gaara wondering just what in the world had just happened.

Patting the couch next to her, he looked at her for a moment. He was certain she was about to try some other strange stunt on him, and he wanted to be prepared. He soon noticed her patting the couch next to her again. Knowing full well that he shouldn't, he moved over to the couch and sat a little more than an arm's reach from her.

Obviously deciding that she didn't like this arrangement, the older girl shifted over until she was right next to him, close enough to reach out his elbow and touch her. Close enough for the scent of her perfume to reach him. The pleasing scent of jasmine made him want to stay right where he was at, but he was too nervous from her proximity to allow that.

Quickly shifting down the couch to a safe distance, he saw that as soon as he had set himself down in his new place, the smiling woman had repositioned herself just as close as before. Moving again, this time to the end of the couch, he found that she had followed him again. Running out of options, he moved to a cushioned armchair that sat at a ninety degree angle to the couch. If she tries to sit next to me on this thing, I'll know that she's trying to kill me.

Kotori seemed contented to sit at the end of the couch, however, and that is where she settled. Breathing a small sigh of relief, he noticed the broad smile she was giving him. "So why do you not like being around others?" she asked, as if she were asking about the weather.

Not expecting the question, Gaara hesitated before answering, "I have spent most of my life alone. I am not used to interacting with people."

"I can tell," she laughed, "but you should give others a chance once in a while. We're not all bad." Her laughter quickly died away, however, and a somber tone took over, "I heard from Nikkuro that you lost your parents. I lost mine, too, so I can sort of understand how you might want to shut others away."

"That's not exactly why I keep to myself," he answered truthfully. He kept to himself because the others in his village hated and were terrified of him since he was born.

"Oh," she said, trying to smile again, though it was somewhat embarrassed, "I see. Well, just forget I said anything."

There was an awkward silence, and Gaara could see the girl, who had been so energetic and cheerful before, looking uncomfortable and slightly pink in the face. Wanting to break the silence, he spoke up, "What happened to your parents?"

Looking over at the boy, she forced another smile at him, "They died as slaves to the Otoka Gento gang. Father became too in debt to them, and he and my mother paid the price. He was worked to death in their warehouses. Mother," she paused, her voice wavering, "she was taken to one of the seedier brothels." She didn't seem to want to speak any further.

"I thought that debts were passed to the children," he said, "Why have they not come for you?"

"Nikkuro is sheltering my little brother and I, since he was an old friend of my Mother," she responded with a small, but genuine smile, "The Otoka Gento probably know that I'm here, but it would be too much trouble to come get me. This hotel does everything it can to keep the gangs out, so as long as I stay here, I'm safe."

"So," he asked, "You can't leave the hotel?"

She shook her head, "I haven't left this building in four years."

Gaara had a difficult time understanding why these gangsters were so persistent. This young lady was trapped here, afraid to leave because her parents owed some money. The more he thought about it, the more absurd it sounded to him.

He began to wonder what he might be able to do. Quickly realizing that there were too many things that he didn't know, he decided that he needed to gather information to see which type of plan would work best. Standing suddenly, his unexpected movement made Kotori jerk back on the couch.

"I will be going out for a while," he stated, feeling like himself again, "I will return when I have gathered the information I require."

Utterly confused at his words, Kotori could only watch as he grabbed several handfuls of sand from his pack, stuffing it into several small pouches at his waist. The sight was nonsensical to her, but a tactical decision for him. If these gangsters were as dangerous as everyone seemed to think they were, it was possible that he would see combat. Since carrying around all of it would be far too suspicious, he had to limit himself to what he could conceal in his clothes.

Finally voicing her curiosity, she asked, "What are you doing?"

As he stood, deciding he had enough sand to protect himself if he was careful, he turned his head to face her. He felt some small satisfaction that for once, she was the one who was confused, "I am going to find out some things. I will return when I am finished." As he turned toward the double doors, he called over his shoulders, "I will require clothing that is more suitable to this hotel. It needs to be easy to move in. Can you find something for me?"

"Uh, sure," she stuttered out, "I'll have it here for you when you return, Gaara-sama."

He paused as he opened the doors. Looking back over his shoulder, he corrected her, "Not sama, just Gaara." With that, he closed the doors and quickly made his way out of the hotel.

Nikkuro said that they had taken over the south eastern part of the city, didn't he? Gaara quickly oriented himself by the stars as he asked himself the question. In a matter of seconds, he began to walk down the roads of the city, trying to make his way south east.

You think that if you help her out, she'll be your friend? That she'll care for you?

It doesn't matter if she cares for me.

Oh? Then why try to help her? We always expect something in return when we do someone a favor. What sort of favors will you ask of her?

I'm not doing this for favors. I'm doing this because it's what Uzumaki Naruto would do.

Who are you trying to fool? You want her to care for you! But as soon as she finds out about us, she's going to despise you just like everyone else did!

…It doesn't matter. I want to help her and I will. Whatever happens in the end, will happen.

He could see the degrading appearance of the buildings as he went further and further along, as well as the degrading appearance of the people. The crowds of people, most of whom were starting to look as bad, if not worse, than the gambling halls they frequented, were even larger and more numerous than they were when he had arrived that afternoon.

After almost an hour of treading through the streets, Gaara picked a gambling hall out at random. It was rough around the edges, but looked much better than the hole in the wall dens and bars that surrounded it, indicating that it was doing pretty well for itself. Taking some time to survey the place, it didn't take the young ninja very long to notice that most of the gamblers that went in with looks of hope, and the vast majority that came out seemed like scolded dogs.

Making his decision, Gaara moved across the street and easily slipped past the bouncer at the front door. The inside was illuminated even worse than the street outside. In the center of the room, there was a large mat with fifteen men sitting around three sides. The last side had three, the center one shirtless as he held a cup and dice. The other two seemed to be taking care of the bets.

There was a great deal of chatter from the crowd in the room, most of which was gibberish to Gaara. Eventually, after spending almost half an hour listening and watching, he began to decipher the gambling language that the men in the room were communicating in. It was far easier to figure out the game itself, which consisted of betting whether the dice in the cup were showing an even number (cho) or odd (han). It seemed to him that these people were making this game far too complicated with all their slang and talk about the odds.

Still, he found it fascinating that men would bet the fruits of their labor, sometimes their entire livelihoods, on the roll of two stupid dice. It was almost beyond his comprehension that they would leave their future up to chance when they could take matters into their own hands.

Besides, didn't anyone else notice that the man doing the rolling was changing the dice out?

He'd noticed it the moment he walked in the door, but couldn't figure out why he was doing it until the rules of the game had become clear. He was periodically swapping between two sets, once that seemed to be weighted to come up cho, one set that usually came up han. He would wait until the men seemed to believe there was a 'streak' going, then swap the dice to go against the streak, taking everyone's winnings back and then some.

But it was so obvious, could it really be that no one else in the entire hall had noticed it? Then again, it would work to his advantage in this case. Going over his plan once in his head, then going over it again, Gaara began his preparations. Remaining in the shadows of the hall, and making sure no one noticed, he allowed a trickle of sand to fall from his pocket. Careful to keep it dispersed, he moved it invisibly to the other side of the room, then snuck it toward the dice roller from behind. Once it was in place, he made his move.

Everyone present seemed more than a little surprised when the boy, barely a teenager, took a seat at the betting mat. The money men and the roller laughed, but made no attempt to stop him as he placed a thousand ryo in front of him. The other men around him made no move to talk him out of it either, more concerned with their own money than the fate of a youngster. Just as I planned.

The Sand nin was keeping a watchful eye on the dice as the thrower waved them around flamboyantly. He easily saw the moment that the man swapped the dice from the hiding place in the folds of cloth around his waist.

The roller held the dice up, threw them into the cup sideways, then upturned the cup and slammed it to the mat before the dice could escape. After sliding the cup around for several seconds to make sure the dice were flat on the mat, he kept one hand on the cup and raised the other one.

"Place your bets!" the diceman yelled. As the gamblers began placing their bets, it became clear that most were going with even. When the diceman pointed at Gaara, he firmly set the betting marker next to his money, "Cho." Soon, all betting was finished and all the men at the mat watched with sweaty brows and some with trembling hands. The only ones who didn't seem to be worried were the workers and Gaara.

With a grin, the diceman lifted the cup to reveal a two and a three. "Han!" he yelled. Obviously the stakes were high for all involved, and it showed through the gambler's expressions. Most of the men at the mat groaned, two even broke down and began to cry. The only one who hadn't reacted when the roll was shown was Gaara.

As the two money men began to reach for the cash that the gamblers had lost, Gaara never took his eyes off the diceman, who seemed particularly proud of himself. When he sensed a hand reach for the thousand ryo sitting before him, his own hand slammed down on it first.

The money man seemed at a loss for a moment. "Come on now, little man," his nasal voice held a not so subtle threat to it, "You lost the bet, so the money is ours now. Give it here and get lost or we'll have to teach you a lesson."

"My understanding of the game," Gaara responded, loud enough to be heard over the groans of his fellow gamblers, "is that money is only exchanged after a legitimate roll."

In a matter of seconds, the large room had become rather quiet. Murmurs could still be heard, but at nowhere near the volume of before. The diceman seemed to look as if Gaara had just insulted his mother, "What did you just say, punk? Are you implying that I cheated?"

"There is no implication necessary," he replied as if he were stating the obvious, "You have been changing the dice all night to control the streaks."

The grumbling became louder as the diceman stood up, "Why you little…" His statement was interrupted as his other set of dice, helped by the sand Gaara had moved onto him earlier, popped out of his belt. They bounced onto the mat and came to rest on two fours.

"You've been cheating these people," Gaara said, his voice maddeningly calm, "I think they deserve their money back." That should do it.

The grumbles of the gamblers quickly rose to a roar as they began to shout curses at the workers and demand their money. As they began to get more and more boisterous, the bouncers began to push their way in, trying to subdue the crowd.

Balling up the sand that was still on the diceman, Gaara caused it to flick around the room. After striking several of the gamblers and bouncers alike, the effect the young shinobi was expecting and hoping for came to pass. A brawl broke out, ensnaring more and more people.

The diceman sneered at Gaara just before he left out the back door with as much cash as he could carry. Seeing that his plan had worked perfectly so far, he put his thousand ryo back in his pocket, then blended away into the crowd. He emerged from the front door only moments later, unscathed and rather pleased with himself, though it didn't show on his face.

Things were going well, but he wasn't through yet. He had to hit two more dice halls to make sure his plan went forward to stage two. Looking up at the night sky above him, he allowed a small upward curl at the end of his mouth.

The morning light was coming through the blinds as the middle aged man lit his cigar. He was just about to have his first cup of coffee when someone burst into his office.

"Boss!" the thug called out, "We got a problem! Three of our dice houses got thrashed last night!"

The Boss was not pleased with this information. Especially not before he had his first cup of coffee. "Our losses?"

"Two of the places burned down," he said, "The last one got totally cleaned out. Our guys are still runnin' numbers, but they think about one million in damages and lost cash."

He could feel a vein throbbing in his head as he leaned forward on his desk, "One million?"

"Actually," the thug seemed to be loosing his nerve as his leader became more and more angry, "A little more than that. More like one and a quarter."

Rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath to try and calm himself, the Boss asked, "Who was it? Cops? Another gang?"

"Umm," he seemed least enthusiastic about this answer, "Actually, our guys are saying that it was a red headed teenager." The Boss looked at the gangster as if he wasn't sure what he had just heard. "A bunch of the guys at all three of the dice halls said that the kid made a bet, and then caught our guys cheating. He stirred up the gamblers and they ransacked the building."

"A kid?" The thug nodded. "So find him and kill him."

"Well, we've been looking for him for several hours now," he explained, "but most of our guys are dealing with the bandits to the south and making sure people pay up. We haven't found him yet."

The Boss was starting to loose his patience with this nonsense, "So hire ninjas. Have them be here by noon."

"But Boss," the underling said, "Konoha ninjas won't take a job to rub out someone that young!"

Completely loosing it, the Boss slammed his hand on his desk as he stood, "Then hire them to catch the little puke and bring him here hogtied! I'll kill him! The Otoka Gento gang isn't going to sit and watch while some snot nosed punk gives us the bird! Now get out of my damn office and don't come back unless you have something I want to hear!"

As the thug ran out of the office, the Boss finally started on his morning cup of coffee. As he savored the aroma, he wondered to himself where he would go to disembowel this red haired kid.

A/N

This chapter required several changes and quite a bit of rewriting, so I hope you guys like it (and I hope it all makes sense).

This part of the story is likely going to cover three chapters, and I pretty much know what all will happen, so you can expect timely releases for the next two chapters just like the first three.

Okay, I got a question that I think I should go ahead and explain to everyone. In the last chapter, the part where Hinata sneezed was not really supposed to imply that she was Gaara's special someone. I had meant it as a joke, since Koyone (the old woman) was poking fun at Gaara's reactions. "Anyone with a shy smile like that will find their special someone in no time!" I meant for the joke to apply to Hinata as well, but I guess it sort of had a more obvious meaning that I completely missed. Gaara and Hinata are not an item after the time skip, so nothing like that is going to happen in this story (sorry Gaara/Hinata shippers!)

I was going to say something about how few reviews I had received, then someone pointed out to me that I had foolishly forgotten to allow unsigned reviews (thank you Ehwinn!). Now that I accept unsigned reviews, there are no more excuses!

Thanks for reading! See you next chapter!

Katamari Damacy