A/N: I would like to thank Chixon for reviewing my story and Chixon and Sbgchan for adding my story to their favorites. It's really appreciated!

See Prologue for the disclaimer and all that...

Chapter 5: Masao's History

"Temari." Gaara's voice came from behind her. She had come to watch the sunset; something she rarely had time to do. Few were as stunning to her as the desert twilight, and nothing left her in awe of its breathtaking splendor as much as it did. The radiance colored the pale grains and the sun always dipped below the horizon fiery red. It painted a mosaic of shades out on the sky, staining the clouds bold, gorgeous pinks and purples and oranges. She sat atop a stone ledge with her legs crossed.

She turned to him and smiled, patting the stone next to her for him to sit beside her. Instead he took one about five feet away. Sighing she asked, "What's wrong Gaara?"

He stayed silent for a moment. Then he asked, "Yesterday… last night… I had the feeling you didn't say everything you know."

"I didn't," she replied simply. Another pause of silence.

"What else do you know about her and how do you know it?"

Temari chose her words carefully. "I won't tell you how I know it, but I will tell you everything else I know if you want." He nodded and she glided a little closer to him on the wall. A soft wind began to waft, rustling the sand at their feet. It blew through Gaara's hair, reminding him of Masao when she ran her fingers through it before he used his Sabakukyu. The usual guilt trip washed over him, and he felt completely awful.

"Masao was born four days after you were. And when she was still a baby, her parents were killed by the Nine-Tailed Fox in Konohagakure Village, where they were helping the fourth Hokage. Raiden, her older brother, was ten and had to take care of her. Unfortunately, her village decided that she was a good choice to succeed their aging Black Ops Torture and Interrogation head.

"Most of it was based on her heritage too, because of a special kekkei genkai she has. She was raised harshly, sort of like you, without any love. At age five she became a chuunin, and at eleven she reached the rank of jounin. That's when they inaugurated her as the retired shinobi's proxy.

"Rumors say that she's the best interrogator the village ever had." Temari chuckled softly. "Kind of scary, isn't it? Eleven years old and the best torturer in her community. The villagers there secretly thought she was cold-hearted and evil. They also feared her shinobi prowess." Gaara finally understood what Masao had meant. She did understand what he was going through.

She knew, and he had pushed her away unknowingly. He had hurt her. He had screamed at her and accused her of raving.

She recognized his plight. She had known all along. But he never knew. He never bothered to try and understand. He was selfish, uncaring, arrogant, and she… she was compassionate, sweet, understanding even though she had lived almost an identical life to his. Masao…!

"Gaara?" Temari asked him softly, placing her hand on his. He looked up at her worried face and sighed. He pulled his hand out from under hers and gripped his heart. She looked at the nearly set sun, the light reflecting in her eyes and making them seem bright and lively. "Four years later, when she was fifteen, a group of ninjas volunteered to attack Sunagakure with her brother Raiden included. She was the kage for her village, the Sorakage, meaning Sky Shadow, and she fully endorsed it. She was rather reluctant about letting her brother go though. You, Kankurou, and I killed them all, but you killed Raiden. Do you recall the man begging for mercy, so he could see his baby sister one more time?"

"I remember," he whispered. He wanted to see Masao once more before he died. But Gaara had killed him in cold blood. Not even guilt, which is infecting him now, had entered his senses.

"She blames herself to this day for letting him go…"

His heart ached painfully and he clutched at his shirt. "Temari, what's wrong with me?"

She looked impassive as she stared at the slowly blackening sky with soft eyes. Her pretty face was half-shadowed by the impending darkness but he could see water dripping down a dexterously curved cheek. His perfectly shaped blue eyes half-closed and stared at the ground. "The feeling you have ni-san," she whispered to him, resting her head on his shoulder, "is called love. A special kind, mind you, not what I have given you."

"What can I do?"

She smiled bitter-sweetly. "Go to her. As soon as possible Gaara. Maybe she needs you as much as you need her."

…:oOo:…

Weeks passed, and the war was growing steadily more aggressive. The enemy side in Hikari was losing, and was desperate for anything that would help them win. In Suna, they rejoiced at the near end of the fighting. Many of their shinobi had been killed and their supplies and funds were running slightly low.

Temari lay on her back on the porch, thinking. It was four in the morning and she couldn't sleep, so she let the cold night desert air bathe over her. Gaara's behavior had rapidly changed since her talk with him and she prayed that it was for better rather than worse. He was eating now, and he didn't stay in his room all the time anymore. Also, the screaming stopped at night, and her worried knocks at his door grew less and less.

She sighed, and then heard a sound behind her. Disappearing instantly, Temari waited and saw that Gaara was leaving the house with a large, wrapped package tucked safely in his arm.

She was confused but decided not to say anything.

Am I really doing this? Gaara asked himself. Am I really going to throw everything to the four winds for one little thing? Is this worth it? He was risking everything for love. If anyone found out, he would most likely be banished or put to death. Well, he would be sentenced to death. He would never allow himself to die.

Masao. All he could think about was Masao. Her face uplifted his resolve. Yes. Yes it was worth it…

He still had no idea why he was doing this or what he hoped to accomplish. All he knew was that he should. That feeling made him go out and purchase the most luxurious chocolates and sweets he could find, much to the surprise and confusion of the villagers. That feeling made him sneak out without a word to anyone, although Temari saw him leave. It was that feeling that forced him to go into an enemy ninja encampment to find her and try to find out how she feels.

He entered silently, looking for an infirmary that would most likely be her location; only because of what he did. Culpability and pain swept through him, knowing that he was the cause of her suffering. He felt his heart throb. Throb for her.

Ah! Exactly what he needed he found. A hospital. He entered and peeked in every doorway he passed. The first room held an older woman with her leg in a cast; the second had a man covered completely in bandages from what seemed like burns. A locked door which he easily picked the lock of held only medical supplies. Finally, he opened the next door and saw her, sleeping peacefully. Gaara slid noiselessly in and closed the door behind him so he wouldn't wake her up.

Setting his large gift basket on her nightstand, he prepared to leave, but saw her stir.

Masao opened her eyes groggily, hearing loud breathing near her and looked around attentively. Unexpectedly, her eyes rested on a boy she hadn't seen in almost two months. Her demon of the sand, her handsome red head. "Gaara!" she whispered. He placed a hand over her mouth and the contact made her heart skip a beat. Their eyes met, and the lost Gaara shown through like never before.

They say eyes are the window to the soul… The old saying floated through his mind, and he now understood what it meant. When he watched her blue-gray orbs he could tell that all Temari told him was true. She had painful memories, a blood-soaked past, and an emotionless, almost demonic, other self she reserved for her interrogations. He traced her face with his free hand, making her heartbeat jump about inconsistently.

"Masao…" he said in a quiet voice, almost too soft for her to hear. "I want to see something…" He cupped her cheeks, making her blush hotly. Oh my God! she thought, her brain turning to mush. This can't be real!

Their face were inches from each other; expressions revealing confusion, fear, but above all else, a sense of certainty. Faith. Confidence. Belief. Knowing that what they were doing felt completely right. This is how it should be. This is what they both had lost and needed above everything else. This is what love is all about. "I'm not sure," Gaara breathed uncertainly, "what to do…"

"That's fine," she replied, almost unable to talk. "Neither do I." Slowly, softly, they pressed their lips together, trying to dig out their ability to love and be loved in return. Masao stood up from her sitting position on the bed and knotted her hands around his neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Passion radiated from them like light from the sun; beautiful, unadulterated, full of new power. He licked her lips, searching for an entrance, and she opened her mouth. He took the invitation, feeling his instincts returning.

Suddenly, Masao pulled back, panting. "Wow…" she whispered. "For someone who never loved before, Gaara, you are an amazing kisser." He looked at her for a moment, unsure of what that meant. She sat back down on her bed and he sat beside her.

"I don't know what you mean…" he told her, furrowing his brow. "I suppose the same could be said for you. Seeing as you never loved before either." Masao laughed.

She leaned forward and kissed the tattooed 'ai' on his forehead and he looked up at her in shock, uncomprehending. She smiled tenderly at him, and her face made his heart pound erratically. He pressed his hand to it, and she placed hers over his, grasping it softly. "See? You have a heart. Don't listen to what anyone else says about." Gaara had the tiniest smile on his face, barely noticeable unless someone was looking for it.

Masao was looking for it. She brushed her lips against his again. He placed his hand on her chest and sheheld itwith both of hers. He told her, "You have one too. And no one can take it away." He pressed his forehead to her shoulder and cried. Sorrowful, joyful, painful, happy tears. She stroked his red hair as he dampened her white medical gown with the salty water. He was sobbing silently, but she didn't have to hear him to know his pain, his tears on her skin were enough.

She whispered into his hair as she rubbed his back, "Even the darkest person has a heart. I was dark too, for the first fifteen years of my life. But things change; people change. May it be the death of a family member, or the finding of love. Everything influences you, but it's things like those that make the difference." He began to calm down, his shaking shoulders subsiding.

"I didn't think I could change…" He pulled her into his lap in a soft cuddle. "But then I met you." Gaara was taller than she, so Masao just rested her head in the curve of his neck. They felt safe in each other's embrace, they felt like they belonged. Somewhere they belonged… alien to them, but each felt like they had it all along.

His cheek pressed against her maroon hair and he felt her nose nuzzle against his neck. The words her most wanted to hear escaped her lips, and it had a profound effect on him. "Gaara, you know I love you, ne?" He nodded, lightly kissing to the top of her head. "And?"

"Do I really need to say?" he questioned tenderly. She nestled against his chest, her warm body alluring It to the surface. But Gaara suppressed it, just so he could be with her a little longer. The clock on her nightstand caught his eye and he winced. It was one hour until Kankurou would burst into his room to get him up and if he wasn't there to be woken up there would be some problems he couldn't cover up. "Masao…" He slid her off his knees and onto the bed as he stood up.

"Gaara?" Her eyes were confused, and it hurt him to do this but it must be done. He did a fast series of hand signs and she began to feel slightly drowsy. Her eyes started to become unfocused.

"This was only a dream," he told her, pain seeping into his voice.

"A… dream…?" she mumbled sleepily, feeling the effects of the ninjutsu tugging her consciousness away. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. "No, it… was real…"

"You're asleep… This is a dream"

"Dream…"

"Yes… that's right…" His voice cracked. Her eyes closed and she fell backwards onto her pillow. He pulled the blanket up to her chin and watched her for a long time. The rise and fall of her chest, her even breathing,

She would remember nothing when she woke up, thinking that she had seen him in a reverie. She couldn't remember their night together, or it could have dire consequences if it got out. He would have to keep it a secret.

But he would remember it, oh God would he remember it, and treasure it forever.