A/N: This story starts after the Sand ninja leave Konoha after the failed mission to get Sasuke from Orochimaru.
Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto…meh.
Chapter 1: So It Begins
"Come on!" the men in the crowd yelled loudly. "Take it off and show us the goods!" Frightened, the girl on the platform held the tattered kimono closer to her bruised body. Her face held traces of tears as she backed away from the fat auctioneer. She saw him raise his fist and prayed that this time he would hit her hard enough to kill her or at least hit her face so she could black out or something. Instead, he grabbed the front of her kimono and pulled. Closing her eyes tight, she held on tighter to the kimono. Every muscle in her body shouted against the injustice of being auctioned to the highest bidder. All she wanted to do was go home, but that was impossible. Her home and her friends were far away and she didn't even know how she came to be in this strange country. Tears spilled over as she remembered the events that led her to this point.
Flashback
The girl's head ached unlike anything she had ever experienced. Reaching up to massage her temples, she found that she couldn't because her hands were tied behind her back. A rough blanket covered her and a woven mat lay under her. The walls around her were actually made of cloth and the sound of the wind blowing outside confirmed the fact that she was in a tent. Slowly, so that she didn't aggravate her headache any more than necessary, the girl sat up. At that moment the tent flap lifted up and five people walked in. They sat in a circle around her and held their hands in prayer-like positions.
What the hell is going on here? she thought to herself. Suddenly, the people started to sweat and she felt a huge pain rip through her back. Screaming and forgetting about her headache, she raised herself to her knees and stared at the vaguely familiar dark haired man in front of her. He simply stared back with his equally dark eyes and kept his hands in that stupid prayer position. She didn't know how she knew this, but the girl knew that if she could get this man to drop his hands, the pain would stop. She sat on her heels and tossed her head, staring at the man the entire time. As she did this, she noticed that his gaze dropped to her chest and belly and she realized that the black T-shirt she usually wore had been ripped in several places and that the holes showed most of her breasts and her belly, including her silver bellybutton ring.
She quickly formulated a plan that would use his perverseness to her advantage, but before she could implement it, the pain increased and she dropped to the floor of the tent once more. It felt as if a million needles were piercing the flesh of her back. But it wasn't an all over type of pain. Her training as an Escrimador, or Escrima Master (1), ensured that she could tolerate pain that affected her whole body and—to a point—localized pain. But this pain was different. It seemed to be centered on two parallel vertical lines about 15 inches long on her upper back.
Determined that she wouldn't scream, the girl pressed her forehead to the floor. That's when she felt the familiar weight of her anting-anting around her neck. (2) She focused and thought of the amulet her father had given her. She mentally traced the characters etched into the stone. "Kinabuhi," she whispered. "Life." (3) She looked up at the man again and saw that his eyes were confused, as if he didn't understand what she was saying. Then she heard the chanting. Turning her head, she gazed at the others in the circle. The pain wasn't lessening, but her concentration strengthened and she pushed the pain into a small corner of her mind. She knew this language…somehow. She closed her eyes and bright light flashed against her eyelids. When she opened them again, the chanting was still going on. Only this time, she understood what they were saying.
"Bind this monster, this demon in human form. Bind this abomination, let her flesh be torn. Bind this monster, this demon…"
"Monster?" she whispered, ignoring the looks she was receiving. "Demon? What have I done to you that you do this? Why do you treat me this way? Answer me!"
The men kept chanting and ignoring her demands. This went on for hours it seemed to the girl. Finally, some sort of signal was made and lines of fire made its way down her right shoulder. She felt and smelt burning flesh and realized that it was her own. As if in response to the burning on her right shoulder, her amulet started to heat up. Both she and the men surrounding her were surprised at this and the girl screamed as more heat traveled to her left shoulder, burning the flesh and branding her there as well. The girl fell to the floor once more as the men finally got up and stood over her.
"What do we do with her now, Itachi-sama?" the youngest of them asked, ignorant—or ignoring—of the fact that the girl was still conscious and listening in on the conversation.
"I don't care," Itachi, by no means ignorant but easily ignoring the girl's presence, answered in a smooth, bored voice. "I don't see why you didn't kill her while she was unconscious. That binding was too troublesome and a waste of my time." Indeed it had taken longer than the dark haired missing nin had thought it would. The girl's strength of will was impressive, but futile in the face of Itachi's power.
"You know what Akatsuki plans, Itachi-sama," the biggest and ugliest of the five reminded. "We'll need it later."
The youngest looked down at the girl and poked her with his toe. "But that doesn't answer what we do with her now."
"Leave her," Itachi said, putting on his long coat. "We need to get going."
"But what if she doesn't survive? This is the desert, Itachi-sama," the boy asked again.
"She'll survive," the missing nin responded. He looked at the girl and almost smiled at the venom in her eyes. "The seal won't let her die. But if you're that worried, then give her to the first trader you see."
The ugly one spoke again, "And where will you be off to?"
"I feel the need to catch a fox," was the reply.
Intrigued, the man questioned further. "Want company?"
"Why not," Itachi answered.
End Flashback
So now, the girl was here. Standing before a crowd of perverted men in nothing but a piece of cloth that pretended to be a kimono. Whatever those bastards had done to her had depleted her strength, so that she couldn't fight back when she was handed to the fat trader/auctioneer without a second glance. Even now, she couldn't fight back, not unless she wanted to do so naked. And considering her two new pieces of body art were still swollen and bleeding—if not infected—she really didn't want to fight nude. But the trader-turned-auctioneer kept his grip on the fabric and the girl heard it start to tear. She screamed bloody murder and kicked against the man. All of a sudden, the tent flap opened and three new people joined the gawking crowd. The trader let go of her and turned to sum up the new potential buyers. The girl did the same from her position on the floor of the platform, holding the fabric even closer to her body.
The group that had just entered the large tent looked young. Temari, the oldest, looked around and narrowed her eyes when she saw the platform with its shivering occupant. Kankuro was the tallest one and was dressed in his customary black and had purple face paint on. When he locked gazes with the girl on the stage, his eyes widened slightly before filling with anger as he figured out what was going on. The third person was the shortest, but at the same time commanded strength. As he looked around impassively, his red hair ruffled in an imaginary wind. He looked at the girl on the platform and zoomed in his attention to her right shoulder, which was revealed by the skimpy kimono. He blinked as he saw a raw and red tattoo on the bicep. The characters didn't look like kanji or any other writing form native to his land. But because his father, the former Kazekage, had been firm in his son's education, Gaara knew that the characters on the girl's arm was from an alphabet called alibata and the word formed by the marks was yawa. (4)
Demon.
"You've made it in the nick of time!" the trader yelled, oblivious to the danger he was in. "I was just about to sell this foreign girl! Now, how much is the opening bid?"
"Opening bid?" Temari choked.
"Sell?" Kankuro said at the same time.
They both looked at their brother when he raised his hand.
"Your lives," the young sand ninja stated.
The trader shook his head and looked confused. "You can't bid our lives young man! What I want is money! This girl is prime for anything, can't you see that?"
Gaara could see that the girl was injured, shivering, and deathly afraid of what might happen to her. "If you give me the girl, I will spare your lives," he said calmly.
Kankuro stepped back and Temari nodded, proud of her brother for doing the right thing. "Slavery is illegal in the Country of Wind," she called out to the trader as well as the men assembled in the tents. "As a shinobi from the Hidden Village of Sand, we have the right to arrest all of you. And if you do not comply with our demands, we have the right to kill you."
"Now see here," the trader called back. "I've been doing my business through these parts for 15 years! I have the Kazekage's personal promise to allow me to sell my wares when I am in Wind Country! This girl is mine to do with as I please and she is my property!"
"That doesn't change the fact that you have been caught conducting a slave auction in our territory," Gaara calmly announced. "And as for the Kazekage's promise to you, it isn't worth anything anymore. The old Kazekage is dead." As the trader ranted about lies and censorship, no one noticed the sand packed floor of the tent winding around everyone's legs except the three shinobi and the terrified girl on the platform. "Now will you give me the girl in exchange for your lives?"
"The girl is mine!" the trader insisted. "She is one of my properties and I have the right to sell my properties! I will talk to the Kazekage and personally have you all stripped of your positions!"
What little patience Gaara had melted away. He raised his open hand in front of him and stated, "I am the Kazekage, baka. Sabaku Kyuu!" The men started to scream as the sand around their feet quickly covered their bodies. "Sabaku SouSou!" Immediately, the sand crushed the men and sprayed blood everywhere inside the tent. Gaara's sand shielded him from the blood, while Temari and Kankuro hid behind her fan. Releasing the men, Gaara walked to the girl on the platform.
The girl looked over at the bodies and then down to her arms. They were covered in blood. Feeling warmth trickle down her cheeks, she touched it and realized that her tears were mixing with the blood on her face. One hysterical laugh bubbled from her as she stared at her fingers and then at the boy who had saved her. Forgetting about the kimono, she launched herself at him and kissed him full on the lips, mixing her tears and the blood on them. "Thank you," she whispered before falling into a faint. Gaara caught her before she hit the floor and turned to his siblings. Ignoring the fact that he was holding a naked woman covered in blood that wasn't her own and that his own mouth was smeared with the blood.
"Let's go home."
A/N:
(1) Escrima is one of the three major martial arts of the Philippines. It is a complete system of self-defense, encompassing both armed and unarmed combat.
(2) Anting-anting is a charm or amulet made from stone. It is considered a means of protection from danger as well as something that can distract or confuse and opponent. In this instance I used it to focus my character's energy and concentration along with the oracion.
(3) "Kinabuhi" is Cebuano for "life". It also substitutes for "being", "blood", or "existence". Cebuano is the dialect spoken on Cebu, an island of the Philippines.
(4) Alibata is a phonetic alphabet much like katakana or hiragana that was once used by Filipinos before (and to an extent during) the Spanish settlement of the islands. "Yawa" is Cebuano for "demon." Don't ask why Gaara knows alibata or Cebuano…he just does!