hi...love you all!
here's 30.
randomness: Rammstein. "Engel." Annoying song.
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Whore Street
The Forcer team had camped out on the lawn. It was the closest they could get to monitoring Gaara's whereabouts and Naruto's wellbeing without hearing the screams. The sky was pitch-black now, and Iruka's wristwatch said 1:41. He was nervous. Not about the dead -- technically still dying – criminal, though it disappointed him that he wouldn't be able to find out more about him. The Forcer's superiors didn't care in what state their scapegoat was, as long as they had one. And if Gaara got into trouble...well, the Sandman was pretty much free to go no matter how hard they tried to keep him close. If he wanted to avoid trouble, he would.
No, Iruka was worried about Naruto. Gaara had been completely Sandman down there, and if Iruka had had more sense and courage at the time, he would have -- should have – braved the Sandman's fury and just gotten the kid out of there. If the Sandman wasn't satisfied with the kidnapper...
A shiver scurried up Iruka's spine. He turned to the Forcer in charge of their radlink with the base. "Did you tell them everything?"
The rest of the team had found their own share of appetite-killing sights in the other rooms. Seemed as though this man hadn't possessed the Sandman's finesse when it came to disposing of corpses, and had simply put the hacked up bodies into huge freezers that filled every available space. The idea brought other tastes to mind, things like cannibalism and whatnot, but in the interest of keeping something in his stomach Iruka chose not to explore the possibilities.
The radlink-Forcer nodded. "Yeah. They're already typing up a report."
"Good. We have to go back down and catalog all of it once..." he waved his hand wearily, and the others understood.
God. Why him? Was he that annoying to the whatevers up there? He massaged the bridge of his nose.
Well, at least now he could reward himself by asking Kakashi for a date. Or something.
An especially loud scream penetrated the still night, only a pathetic, muffled cry out here. Iruka didn't want to know what Gaara was doing now.
He tried to find some reaction within himself to this... solving of the case. He'd really have to ask what actually got this place into Gaara's head. He was happy, sure. And he felt a bit of that motivation loss one always got after finishing something up that had taken almost all of your time for a while, the listlessness that followed the completion of a large project.
Huh. Strange. Maybe it just had to sink in a bit before he really registered it. Or maybe he was feeling a bit unnecessary because it had actually all been Gaara.
He heard a couple of the other Forcers gasp, and looked up at the house's elaborate Victorian porch.
Speak of the devil.
Gaara was Gaara, his eyes teal but not iron, and his clothes were covered in blood. His arms were soaked to the biceps now, and he still held the knife loosely in one hand. He walked past the silent group sprawled and sitting on the lawn, completely ignoring them.
Iruka turned his head to watch the tall, slim figure leave the house's grounds and pass by the Force cars they'd taken here. Soon Gaara was too far away to pick out in the darkness, and Iruka sighed. He wasn't sure whether the sound was relieved or angry.
He somehow knew that this time, Gaara wasn't coming back.
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HAHAHAHAHA!
I'll bet you wanna know whether Naruto is down there dead or not... have to wait and see!
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