Chapter One: The Kunoichi Masao

He stood up from his neat bed, never once falling asleep nor marring the perfectly set sheets. His heavily blackened eyes closed for a moment then opened to reveal faultlessly colored pale blue orbs that crossed the room lazily to his bureau. The room was small, consisting only of a bed, a small lamp and nightstand, and a wardrobe. His walls were a bare white; unlike his sister who had hers painted forest green that he felt matched her eyes perfectly.

Kankurou slept in the room to the left of his and Temari in the room across. It was a three bedroom apartment they shared, and often had visits from their sensei when he had a mission for them to complete. He had been coming around more and more often lately due to the war. Even though he had found more to his existence with his sister, he trained as a shinobi still dutifully obliged to fight for his country.

Standing before the dresser he stripped down to his black boxers and sifted through the clothes that had been washed by Temari the night before. Gaara wore the same thing all the time, so Temari made sure to keep that particular outfit clean for him. He pulled a netted shirt on and over it a pair of black pants and a black short sleeved shirt that revealed the slightly longer sleeves of the fishnet. He pulled a white and a tan colored sash on over his head and strapped a rough surfaced gourd to the belts connected to the tan sash.

"Gaara!" Temari's husky but distinctly feminine voice called to him from behind his shut door. "Breakfast! But I have to warn you, Kankurou made it!"

Gaara was prepared to leave his room and join them (join Temari at least; she was the only one who didn't have a problem eating in the presence of a monster) but Kankurou's voice made him stop. "Why are you always so laid back with him?" Anger.

"What do you mean!" Impatience.

"He's a monster Temari! He's dangerous! Yet here you are joking with him like he's—"

"Human?" she cut him off coolly.

He paused. "…Yes."

A loud bang sounded and Kankurou gasped. She had crashed her battle fan into the ground, leaving an angry indent. "And why shouldn't I? He's human just like you and me, only cursed with a different destiny!" She examined his face slowly. "You're painted like a freak show but you don't see me calling you inhuman do you?"

A clanking sound erupted from the kitchen as ceramic hit ceramic and then steel. She stomped furiously down the hallway and, balancing the tray on one hand, knocked softly on his door. "Gaara?" He strode forward and opened his door a crack to see her smiling slightly, although her eyes still held traces of anger. "Hey, um, mind if I eat in here with you?" Her tray held two plates of over cooked eggs and over jellied toast. Two glasses of milk were poised beside them.

He shook his head no, faintly unsure of himself, and moved out of the way to let her into the room. Closing the door behind her, he sat across from her and started his breakfast.

Silence.

Gaara had always liked it better when they sat together quietly. It seemed to bond them better than any conversation could.

Temari watched him eat his food politely and smiled when she saw his eyes flicker for a moment to the burnt underside of the eggs, a look of exasperation making an entrance ephemerally across his eyes. "Gaara, we're going to be on the front lines today. Just thought I'd give you the heads up." He nodded slightly, his eyes still on his breakfast.

That was all the response she'd expected from him, but he surprised her by starting an authentic conversation. "Temari, I want to talk to you about something."

Gaara looked up to see her expression and saw she was open and ready for anything he wanted to ask. He knit his brow, causing his eyes to look wider and more childlike. Suddenly he realized he never had an actual conversation with Temari. Usually it was just nods or training advice. Now, for the first time, he was going to attempt an actual in-depth conversation with her. He had nothing to go by, nothing to build off of, so he would have to wing this one.

Just as he started to speak, he sensed Kankurou lurking by the closed door, eavesdropping. Annoyed, he turned back to his beloved sister and told her, "Never mind." He expected her to press for more, but when he glanced at her he saw her expression was clear and understanding.

Unexpectedly, Kankurou burst open the door. His face was serious and his Crow sat waiting on his back. "We have to leave now. They need our help sooner than expected." Temari leapt up to follow the already exiting Gaara, leaving the dishes where they lay.

…:oOo:…

The battlefield. This is where Gaara truly felt that he could lose himself. Well… not completely lose himself, but not be degraded for the horror that he is. His lack of emotions proved essential on the battlefield. His job is to kill without regret, and he does it well. No one even gave him a good work out, not since fighting Uchiha Sasuke.

There were all types of shinobi: male, female, stocky, skinny, skilled, and some less so. Any that obstructed his path were eliminated, and the crimson liquid that spilled everywhere lured the demon within with its alluring smell. He suppressed it, for if it got loose terrible things could happen. He wasn't worried about anyone else, only that he might hurt Temari.

A three small shuriken dashed towards his head and he moved barely in time to dodge them. Whoever had thrown them had remarkable skill. Two kunai knives flew to the side, the sand pouring from his gourd saw to that; his mother's protection. The ninja that threw them was a kunoichi, no older than he. She had long maroon hair pulled back into a long pony tail running down her back and a hitai-ate headband around her thigh.

Suddenly, something Gaara did not intend when he saw her face, his heart skipped a beat. Confusion rippled through him like wildfire. She had striking grey eyes, like the sea before a storm. When they met with his pastel ones, they filled with a powerful resentment unlike anything he'd ever seen. Raising her hands into a sign he didn't recognize, she muttered something under her breath.

The war vanished around him and a strange vision ran through his mind. It was another from years ago. He had been new to missions, but supremely prose. He made no mistakes. Temari, he, and Kankurou were the perfect team. This memory had been recalled from the recesses of his mind, where he put reminiscences he didn't find important.

This particular mission had called upon them to stop a group of enemy shinobi from attacking their village. They had massacred the entire troupe without vacillation. An individual was pointed out, kneeling at his feet with his hands clasped before him as if praying. A man with the same stormy eyes as the kunoichi. My brother a sad, velvety voice explained.

"Gaara!" A voice broke through the genjutsu and he was back on the battle field. Lucky for him, his sand had been protecting him from any and all enemy attackers from harming him. The kunoichi appeared before him, fuuma shuriken in hand, murder on her mind. The sand had barely made it in time to stop her. She slid to the side and leapt back up, disappearing from view. His eyes opened wide. He couldn't even sense her presence any where.

Then, he heard a small sound of sandals on the ground behind him and turned to see her vanish again. She began to toy with him, giving him subtle hints to her whereabouts only to disappear the moment he faced her. Gaara saw her make her way past his sand barricade and felt her knock him to the ground. She was straddling his chest with her armed left hand pushing metal against his throat. She breathed heavily, the exertion of her speed and exponential use of chakra catching up to her.

Their eyes met and the kunoichi's widened in surprise. "No…" she whispered. Gaara struggled with himself, unable to shove her away. Her face scrunched up in confusion. "You can't be… the same boy…" The kunai knife against his skin began to shake, and then her entire body began to shiver. "They said… said you were a monster. A demon out of Hell!" She screamed that last part, as if trying to convince herself of something. Gaara blinked, wondering what she was talking about, still unable to move. "I should kill you!" She placed both hands on the kunai and pressed it harder to his throat. It squirmed excitedly for some reason he couldn't understand. "But when I look into your eyes, I don't see a monster. I see only a boy…" Her resolve for murder began to fade; he could see it reflected on her face. "They called you Gaara the Demon, but I can only discern Gaara. Just Gaara. Why is that?"

She dropped the knife to the sand, and lowered one trembling hand to his face, tears pouring down her cheeks. "I can't kill you," she whispered.

Now's your chance, his instinct told him, Kill her! Back in his right mind, he raised his hand and said, "Sabakukyu! The Coffin of Crushing Sand!" His sand encased her and began to squeeze, starting at her ankles and rising to her head.

"I came to murder the monster," she whispered, her hand lifting from his forehead as his jutsu pulled her away. "But I can't. I have nothing else to do with my life so ending it here and now is nothing…" She was practically begging him to kill her.

There was no trace of fear, or hate, in her eyes. Only a subtle gratefulness and a friendly expression. "Thank you Gaara…" Her words shocked him and he could feel his determination start to waver. Should he kill her? The grains engulfed her face, and the tears were lost to the sand.

He began to question himself.

Second guessing.

Hesitating.

Things he's never done before. He could still feel the warmth of her hand on his forehead. The kindness in her eyes. The cool drip of tears on his face.

Something else struck him. She did not accept that he was a monster. Couldn't… wouldn't… All she called him was Gaara. Even though he killed her brother, she wouldn't hold it against him. He couldn't understand why.

"Gaara. Just Gaara."

Why?

"I don't see a monster."

But why!

"I can't kill you."

WHY!

"Thank you, Gaara."

Aargh!

A shrill scream erupted from the mass of sand in front of him and, before he knew what he was doing, released her from the coffin. As the sand fell away, she collapsed to the ground. Her body was wrecked and crimson blood dripped everywhere. She remained alive, however. Nothing that had been damaged could kill her. This strange kunoichi would live.

Gaara stood and, repairing the gourd that had crumpled to sand when she knocked him to his back, started a new line of enemies to slaughter. "Masao," a rough voice choked out. He turned to see a male shinobi clad in black and red picking her up and, pushing all the chakra into his legs, ran.

So her name… was Masao…