Neji's hands wouldn't stop shaking even as he clasped them tightly in his lap until the turned pale white from lack of blood. Every few seconds, he would look out the taxi window, checking to see if he was being followed, as if somehow Gaara could chase him down on foot in a moving car.

Maybe Gaara could. He didn't know. He didn't know anything.

After school and club activities, Neji skipped cram school to check on Gaara. He took the bus to downtown and went to the embassy. The guards, recognizing him, told him that he was not allowed up without Gaara being there. Rejected, he had left, wondering where he could be.

As he searched downtown, realizing he wasn't sure where Gaara might go, he caught sight of Gaara in the distance. He called out, but Gaara didn't seem to hear him, focused on something in the park, he couldn't see. Gaara was walking strangely, and his clothes looked stained with a bunch of blood. Wondering if his wounds had opened up again, he ran to catch up.

He found Gaara in a compromising position. Mouth on the man's neck, and the man's hands on Gaara's frame, multiple thoughts rushed his mind initially. Why would Gaara be making out with an old man? Was Gaara an escort? Was he gay?

Neji didn't know what to think. Gaara's name left his mouth in disbelief. For a moment, he thought he was jealous and angry.

But then Gaara turned around, and he saw what was truly going on. Gaara's mouth and clothes were indeed stained with blood. It dripped from Gaara's lips and the golden-brown eyes, that glowed lightly in the dark, stared right into his soul. It was only a second later that Neji realized the man Gaara had been holding was dead, his throat ripped out.

He couldn't believe his eyes. Who would? His entire perception of Gaara of him being gentle and good-intentioned shattered with the image of a murderer. Did he think he was a vampire or something? He couldn't possibly be, and yet that image was in his head.

The entire time, Neji was afraid Gaara would follow him, his leg bouncing frantically and his hands wringing. Twice, the driver asked if he was okay, and Neji couldn't remember his response. He never felt more relieved to see the walls of the Hyuuga compound as they pulled up. Hastily paying the driver by tossing an unspecified amount of cash at him, he got out of the car, seeing the walls as some sort of haven.

He had trouble opening the heavy wooden gates, partially due to his panic. The gates were rarely closed until four days ago when they started to be closed consistently by the order of his uncle.

Once inside, he thought he'd feel safer, especially when the gates closed behind him, but he didn't. He walked further into the compound, walking at a swift pace, not pausing to say a single thing to the clan members he passed. He was only focused on his destination, unable to shake the feeling that he was being followed. As Neji entered the main house, heading straight towards his room, Hinata stepped out, bumping into him.

"Sorry," she quickly apologized. "I should have been more careful."

Neji didn't pay her much attention, trying to walk past her to get to his room.

"Neji-nii?" she called out, concern in her voice from lack of a response from him.

"Later," was all he said, entering his room and closing the door.

The housekeeper had already laid out his futon for the night, but he bypassed it for the corner, slumping down and grabbing a fist full of hair. It had been so long since he had been in his room. It didn't look lived in, and he had few belongings here besides a small wardrobe of clothes. It reminded him of Gaara's offer to order a pull-out bed just for him.

Why did Gaara approach him back then? Was he luring him in to kill him too? Was it all an act? And the rumor that the college students who had died. Was that Gaara's doing too? At the minimum, Gaara was a murder and possible serial killer. At worst, Gaara wasn't even human. A demon or spirit perhaps. He couldn't be a ghost. Neji had felt and touched him and others could see him too. The notion that Gaara wasn't even human shouldn't have been a possibility, but the strange coloring of his eyes and sharpened teeth, reminded him a lot of when Uzumaki lost it, but instead of a glimpse, Gaara's had been full-on display. Was Uzumaki one too? Was what Neji passed off as his imagination been real all this time? Was that why Hyuuga would instinctively fear Uzumaki's loss of control, and why Gaara was friends with Uzumaki? Because they were the same except Gaara had more control?

It occurred to him that he should call the police. He didn't know why he didn't call before. Gaara probably cleaned up the body already. Still, he took out his cellphone and made the call.

"I'm calling to report a murder," his voice shook as well as his hand. He tried to grip the phone tighter to steady himself, but it only made it worse, the phone shaking more. "A middle age man in Shirogane Park…I didn't get a good look of the body or killer. I just saw the blood…. Yes, I'm in a safe place."

He answered a few more questions. They didn't ask for his name or contact information, and Neji didn't think to ask or offer, focusing more on why he didn't tell them Gaara was the killer. It would have been easier if he did. They could arrest Gaara immediately, but he didn't. He hung up and pressed his forehead against his phone.

Why? Why did it have to be Gaara? He trusted him. He thought that he'd finally have a place to belong. Instead, he was cowering in a corner of his room afraid Gaara might come to silence him.

As time dragged on, his senses slowly crept back to the forefront of his thoughts, fighting through his fear riddled mind with a more plausible explanation.

It was dark. Even with the streetlights, his eyes could have been playing tricks on him. Gaara couldn't be a demon or spirit. He had seen Gaara at shrines. He had even seen him give an offering once during New Years while Uzumaki watched. Gaara was human. A psychotic one, but he wasn't invincible. He was surrounded by martial arts experts. It wouldn't be easy to get to him. Plus, he called the police. It wouldn't be long before Gaara was stopped. He would be safe.

The clenched his fists, unable to put any strength in his hands due to the fear that still clenched onto him, refusing to let go even with logic starting to take over.

Exercise. He needed to exercise. He stood abruptly then remembered the rules his uncle had inflicted on him, making him partially sit again much slower than he had risen. If he was caught, his uncle would kick him out. He'd lose the little protection he had.

He debated with himself long and hard. He hated being afraid and uncertain. Since losing his martial arts he had been angry and left without a sense of direction. Whenever he needed to work through his emotions it had always been there, changing to match his emotions, giving him what he needed to find a center. It was a compass that always led him back to an equilibrium state of mind when he was about to lose himself. Right now, he was about to tip.

He needed the balance back.

Grabbing a sweatshirt, he left the room, searching left and right for his uncle. He couldn't be caught this time. He didn't go out unprepared, however. As he exited the main house, he went to the shed he always practiced behind and entered. It was never locked. He always thought it was strange because inside, there were various gear for battle. Armor, swords, tonfas, spears. It was strange because their martial art didn't use weapons and the fact it was so easy to steal. The best reason he could come up with was that it was a part of some sort of advanced techniques he was never allowed to learn or practice against them. He never questioned why the weapons were real and sharpened.

Tonight, he didn't complain about the convenience. Sneaking a short sword out of the shed, just in case. Even if he couldn't wield it properly, if Gaara did find him, it might help in a pinch, not that Gaara should expect Neji would be in the forest rather than the main house.

He tied the blade to his back and began his trek into the forest. His clan was distracted by something. As he headed towards the forest entrance at the back of the compound, sneaking clan members as he did so, he overheard parts of conversations.

"The butler's been snooping around supposedly. Going into places he's not supposed to to find that Itachi guy."

"Do you think they've found the demon brat? You don't think he's working with them, right?"

"I swear if Elder Danzo makes follow that hag one more time…."

"I hate this. Why did we get stuck with the weak heir? If he was still alive, he wouldn't let things get this bad."

Neji brushed off the rumors and gossip of his clansman, not knowing who or what they were talking about. Since thinking about training once more, the buzz under his skin had returned. His body was itching to get back into the swing of things. It had been too long. An eternity.

The moon provided enough light into the forest but it was still unfamiliar territory for him despite being on their property. He was never allowed here, but from his room, he had seen a clearing. At this time of night, he was confident no one would be there. Using the light on his cellphone, he trudged his way through the forest.

There were markings on the trees, making the journey much easier and ease his worry about getting lost, but he jumped at every little sound: from the trees moving in the wind to the sound of creatures scurrying around the underbrush. He kept walking, the promise of finally practicing martial arts too enticing to pass up. He did find himself checking excessively if the sword on his back was still there. He had seen one nightmare already. He didn't need to see another.

It was a relief to see the clearing and some of his nerves melted away at the sight. He had made it there safely. It was half the battle. Even if Gaara came to the house, he wouldn't be there. The moon was bright, and it was quiet enough he would notice anyone approach. As it was autumn and there were dried leaves littering the forest ground, he would hear anyone approach.

There were some automatic solar lanterns that turned on once night hit surrounding the perimeter, giving him plenty of light to see comfortably. He took his time scouting the area. There was training equipment that he recognized, for example, wooden dummies used for training. They were wooden posts with wooden pegs that stuck out perpendicular to the post used for martial arts training. There was also an area with large wooden pegs in the ground used for balancing, and a place marked for sparring.

There were also items he didn't recognize. Like a large earthenware jar with a sutra on the lid to keep it closed and a pit of mud that was clearly man-made.

Seeing no easy place for anyone to hide, Neji took off his shoes and entered the sparring area, feeling the grass underneath his feet. He kept his phone and sword on him as a precaution, conscious of their additional weight and why it was there.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Martial arts was about discipline, keeping a level head, and learning to think clearly no matter the situation. Emotions had their part, but they had to be controlled. It was okay to be afraid, to be angry, to be confused. Fear could give way to caution, never underestimating your enemy. Anger gave way to potential, to keep going when you have nothing left and find power you didn't have before. Confusion could be the motivator to seek answers you never thought to look for. As long as he let reason be dominant, and he remained in control, he would always have a chance. That was true about life too.

Breathing out slowly, he took the first stance. From there he followed the basics, moving slowly and focusing solely on technique and balance, physically and emotionally. He cleared his mind as he moved from one stance to the next, flowing in and out of offensive and defensive. His mind cleared away unnecessary thoughts, feeling the way his body moved. Even without doing it for a week, it felt so natural to him. More than that. It was like his body felt rejuvenated as he let the movement take hold of him and wash over him as if it was what he was meant to do.

The tingling under his skin didn't go away, but flowed as his body did, settling in his hands, his feet and whenever he tensed his muscles in a defensive movement. Rather than be uncomfortable as it had been, it felt essential, made him more confident in his movements and added a sense of security he could not describe. He felt more powerful though he was not doing any complicated movements. He felt he could hit harder and faster, could handle a stronger attack, and was more accurate than ever.

As he settled into a routine he was able to think through his problem more clearly. Putting aside that Gaara was a serial killer and a psychopath, Gaara had betrayed him.

He threw a hard palm strike followed by an elbow strike.

He had been used as a cover and had possibly been a next target. Gaara had been using him.

The thought hurt and for a second, his follow up strike faltered as it weakened with his thoughts. Noticing immediately, Neji redid the move, steadier this time.

He had trusted Gaara, more than he should have. He should have known there was a secret agenda. Everyone who approached him had one. His money, his power, his intelligence, his reputation. It was always something. Gaara was no different. So why did it hurt so much to find that out?

His next combo was sloppy, and the tingling in his hands wavered, first growing stronger than significantly weaker as if matching his emotional state.

Why did he even let his guard down? Because he thought someone understood him? That someone shared his pain?

He paused in his training. Fist still hovering in the air from his last attack, breathing heavily.

Even now, knowing what a monster Gaara really was, he wanted to come up with excuses. If he was a target, why make him stronger? If he was a cover, why not let people know? He wanted to make an excuse. He even lied to the police for him.

But it was all a lie. The relationship they had didn't exist. He was the only one foolish enough to think they were friends. He had been betrayed before, but why did this one hurt so damn much?

Giving a loud, powerful yell at the top of his lungs, he did a complicated combo, imagining Gaara in front of him, aiming each strike at every pressure point and vital with strength and vigor. Each attack, he felt a pressure build-up in his hands until the very last punch meant to finish Gaara off cut through the air and the pressure exploded, stinging Neji's hand and causing him to yell in pain, dropping his stance, and retracting his hand to cradle his arm. His entire arm felt like it was on fire and the skin between his second and third knuckles were split and bleeding.

As he thought, panicked and confused as to how he had injured himself, slow clapping disturbed the silence. Neji jumped, taking a defensive stance, hands raised, forgetting about the sword and phone to defend himself.

Standing on one of the wooden training dummies was a man he did not know. He was tall, lean, and wearing a butler uniform and shiny, black shoes that had not a single speck of dirt on them. His hair was parted to the left, partially covering the large scar over the right side of his face. The man chuckled as he spoke, condescension in his eyes as he said amusingly. "My, my, I never thought I'd see a hunter as old as you fumble such an easy attack, especially not one from the famed Hyuuga clan." He chuckled again before clearing his throat. "Sorry, I couldn't help but laugh. It was just too tempting to resist."

"Who are you? Don't you know this is private property?" Hyuuga asked, not amused in the slightest and putting on the air of a young master. "Leave this once, and we will not press charges." Hyuuga acted tough, but he didn't understand how this man had snuck up on him when they were in a clearing and the man was to the side but well within his peripheral vision. How could he have missed him?

The man raised his eyebrows then his lips curled as if he was going to laugh again. "Are you going to make me? All by yourself?"

"If I have to," Neji responded, but as he stared into the man's eyes, he grew more and more uncomfortable. He could see the man's eyes a little too clearly in the low light even with the moon and lanterns. It wasn't that easy to make out small details, and yet he could see his eyes clearly, and they reminded him of the transfer student's predatory gaze, but stronger.

"That's some confidence coming from a baby hunter. Well, to be only as skilled as you are at your age, you must be very slow-witted. I wouldn't mind playing with you for a while."

Just as Neji tried to understand what the man meant by "baby hunter". The man disappeared before his eyes only to reappear in front of him, grabbing Neji's jaw, applying just enough pressure where his jaw wouldn't break.

"I've been quite frustrated you see. Between my master making a new pet and my prey being so close but avoiding me so earnestly, I've had nothing to take my frustrations on." He spoke politely as a butler would, but the eyes staring into Neji, who was quickly growing into a panic when he was unable to break the man's grip, were making Neji feel small and oppressed, making Neji feel he was helpless and should stop struggling.

The man breathed in deeply, his smile widening and taking a sinister edge. "Fear does smell so sweet." He revealed his fangs, and Neji's eyes widened. "That's right. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, let your fear grow. It will make you ripen just right."

Neji struggled, using the martial arts he knew, but the man would not budge. Neji's attacks were as effective as hitting a wall with foam.

The man didn't try to stop him, enjoying his struggling with every fiber in his being. "You can't hurt me if you don't put chakra into it. Surely, even you know that."

What the hell was he talking about? The man held onto Neji's jaw too tightly for him to speak. He finally remembered the sword, and he went to reach for it, when the man's other hand grabbed his, stopping him. "Don't go ruining the fun, now. Dinner should be a pleasant affair. Neat and orderly with wonderful presentation." Their faces were close. Neji was locked in a staring contest, noticing the man's eyes were glowing just slightly. His eyes flickered down to the man's teeth and, sure enough, those looked real too. It couldn't be. These things couldn't be real. They were just stories and fairy tales.

But you couldn't fake such strength and speed. No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't explain either. Neji was by no means weak. He could bench press 110 kilograms even if it was just once and he could lift 95 kilograms for his normal reps. An attack by him shouldn't be so easily taken, and yet this man wasn't fazed with a hit to the windpipe. It wasn't possible.

The man brought his mouth to Neji's neck, inhaling again. The man stilled then took another breath. With a sneer, the man released Neji, throwing him to the side as if he was a dirty rag being tossed away. "Is being a homo a trend or something," he muttered under his breath. Neji wasn't sure he heard it correctly as his jaw was throbbing painfully and tender to the touch.

"Lucky for you, I don't feel like starting a territory dispute. At least, not yet. It's still a bit inconvenient for me." The man had dropped his smile and looked at Neji with thinly veiled disgust.

Neji grabbed his sword this time, drawing it from the sheath and brandishing it. Both could hear the sword shaking in Neji's hands. The man looked at the sword with disdain. "If you weren't under someone's protection, I'd take offense to that," he said. He walked towards Neji. Out of fear, Neji swung. It was by no means done well, but better than someone completely unfamiliar with swords. The man caught it in his hand. With another condescending smile, he broke the swords in his grasp, letting go of the blade and letting the broken pieces fall.

Blood dripped slowly from the man's hand despite the deep gash. "It's a good thing you don't know how to use it or else I might have been in a bit of trouble." The man licked the wound, his eyes still looking at Neji as he did so. He gave one long and slow lick, starting from the blood that had dripped down to his wrist to the wound. As he watched, amusement returned. "You've never seen a vampire before. Have you?"

Neji could only stay silent. There was nothing he could say with the second shock tonight. The only word he latched onto was the word vampire.

"Shame. You would have been a delectable snack with the fear you're admitting. Until next time, little heir."

The man took to the air, jumping high enough to block the moon, giving him the appearance of flying, his coattails spreading out like wings. It would have been beautiful if Neji wasn't so terrified. The man descended deep into the forest and out of Neji's sight.

Vampires were real. And he was almost one's food. The image of the man Gaara had killed entered his mind, specifically how his throat had been ripped out. That was going to be him. That was going to happen to him.

The panic returned. He had never felt so helpless before. Nothing he did worked. If Gaara was like that man, was he as strong as that man too? He knew Gaara was strong, he trained with him after all, but to think Gaara may be holding back to a level he hadn't even comprehended before. Did Gaara plan to feed off him too? If Gaara attacked him, there was no stopping it. No human could stand up to that.

Neji left the blade. He returned home. He didn't run or panic, though he was jumpier than before. Vampires were real. He shared a bed with one. Ate with one. He could have died, and no one would have known.

He knew Gaara's secret. Surely, Gaara wouldn't let him live. Gaara would track him down and find him eventually.

He was in the main house by the time he realized he never grabbed his shoes. His feet were cut up and bleeding from the mountain trail. He turned around listlessly, seeing the trail of blood and dirt on the wooden walkway. A maid would take care of it, he thought. Feeling numb.

Instead of continuing to his room to cower, he stopped at the courtyard, staring at the tree and pond in the garden. He sat down, letting his feet dangle off the walkway.

What was he going to do when he was finally cornered? He couldn't skip school forever; Gaara would find him there eventually even if he tried to avoid him. He had contemplated suicide in the past. Not seriously, but as a passing thought when he wondered if anyone would care if he was gone or if it would be bad for him to just give up on life there and then. The thoughts happened more frequently than most would assume. He always moved on, thinking that others had it worse than him and that he could move out as soon as possible. He could just give up. His family didn't care and his friends… he had none. He couldn't run. Couldn't fight. Should he just accept his fate?

A branch laid on the ground, broken off from the typhoon a while ago. It still had yet to be cleaned up.

A typhoon was strong and deadly. Every year there was damage and sometimes casualties. It could stop a Mongol invasion and devastate buildings meant to withstand it. But each year, life continued on. Even though a small bird may be caught in the raging winds and water, it finds a way to survive.

It wouldn't be like him to just give up.

Neji stood up and went to the kitchen, grabbing a knife and returned to the courtyard, leaving the walkway and entering the garden. He wouldn't give up so easily. If there were movies about vampires, then people knew they existed. Some of those things were probably fact.

He broke off a piece of the branch and settled under the tree to begin whittling away. He was disadvantaged, but there was always a chance. He knew very little about vampires, he didn't watch many movies, but he did know almost all the stories involved a stake. It was a start.

He whittled away until he felt eyes on him. Looking up, on the Niijima clan's perimeter wall, the transfer student stood, eyes on him. He was too far away for Hyuuga to make out his expression, but he disappeared just as quickly.

How many were there? They seemed to be everywhere. Hyuuga clutched the half-made stake in his hand. Was Gaara already sending his vampire friends after him? Was he not even important enough to come after him in person?

Fine. He would admit it. He was terrified. His world has been tipped from its axis. He already felt cornered and watched and the martial arts he had been so proud in would be useless. He didn't know what to do, but he planned to go down swinging.

His body was still shaking, and he felt sick to his stomach. As soon as he could muster up the strength, he'd face Gaara head on.


Gaara sat in Tsunade's office as she spoke on the phone. He was still drenched in blood, not having washed any of it off as the chairwoman took care of things.

He had no energy to move. He was still starving, but for once, hunger was not the forefront of his thoughts. Hyuuga's reaction was. His horrified face all he could think of. He had seen that face so many times. Many from his victims. He was used to it but seeing it on Hyuuga's face was different. He never wanted to see it on Hyuuga's face.

"The scene has been cleaned up and the call was intercepted. We'll have to contact Hyuuga-san about Neji-kun. If we are diligent, we may be able to persuade him it was just a movie in the making, or he misunderstood the situation somehow."

No. Hyuuga wouldn't be that gullible. He would never believe it. "And if you can't?" Gaara asked, his voice monotone.

"That's up for Hyuuga-san to decide," she replied folding her hands on her desk. "I know this is hard for you, but I think it might be best for you to return home for a while."

Gaara inhaled sharply. "The deal was until graduation," he replied.

"I know." Tsunade had that face she had when speaking to the shinobi. Her expression was stern, and nothing could be read from her face. Nothing he said would change her mind, and she would push for her decision. "Listen Gaara-kun, things have become complicated. You led two teenagers to Uchiha's mansion and now this incident, the other clans are going to start to think you are dangerous. If what you said was true and someone attacked you, its possible someone is trying to force you in this very situation. This incident will spread, and Naruto will be watched and judged more than he already is. If he or you comes across as a threat right now, they may push to take more drastic measures."

Drastic measures.

Flashes of his past entered Gaara's mind. He never wanted Uzumaki to ever suffer as he had. Tsunade had been kind enough to bring him here, even for a limited time. She understood his feelings regarding Uzumaki. She had seen the facility he was brought up in. She had an idea of how they suffered. She had given him the chance to stay by Uzumaki's side until he graduated. She had every right to revoke the privilege she had given him, especially when she was heavily criticized for giving it to him in the first place.

But there was one thing he was still worried about that kept him from agreeing.

"Would you protect Uzumaki, no matter what?" he asked, meeting her steady gaze.

She didn't look away or show weakness, just as a leader should. It was not a comforting sight, especially when she replied. "I will protect him as much as I am able."

Gaara broke eye contact first. "I will stay for now," he said softly, standing. He favored his right leg as he walked. His left leg had healed improperly from trying to walk on it before it had finished and was crooked.

He felt Tsunade's eyes on his injury, and he walked faster, not wanting her to offer assistance. The school halls were dark and empty. He could imagine students getting scared, whispering stories of ghosts, demons, and the seven school wonders. He wished he was one of them. He knew ghosts and demons existed. He knew of crazy scientists, magic, and monsters. It didn't scare him, attesting to the unusual and dark circumstances that were his life. Not much scared him in general. Not even death. There was only one thing that he was truly terrified about, and that was Uzumaki. He was afraid to leave Uzumaki alone. He was afraid that Uzumaki's life would end all too quickly because someone was afraid of that sweet, innocent boy. He was afraid the light that had drawn him out of the darkness would be snuffed out.

If the gods or Allah existed, then they were nothing but cruel tyrannical beings that would put someone like Uzumaki to lead the life he lived.

He stopped in front of a window, seeing his reflection in the glass. His life revolved around Uzumaki since the first day Gaara spoke to him. He wanted to protect him, see him smile just a little longer. For the longest time, Uzumaki was all that kept him going.

That hadn't changed. His top priority was still Uzumaki, but lately, another had been taking up his time and attention. Hyuuga had slowly become a constant in his life. His days were given to Uzumaki while his nights were given to Hyuuga. He should detest anything that drew his attention away from Uzumaki's protection, but what did his overprotection do other than put Uzumaki in an impossible situation that could cost him his life? On the other hand, involving himself with Hyuuga had led him to do something unforgivable and sap Hyuuga's chakra in his sleep. Hyuuga wasn't even a hunter. He could have accidentally killed him by taking what Hyuuga offered unconsciously. Hyuuga didn't know how to control his chakra, wouldn't know he was giving it and could have given too much and died. Gaara was nothing more than a parasite, leeching on another unsuspecting victim.

He looked away from his reflection. It didn't adequately capture who was looking into it. A monster shouldn't look so human.

It would be best if Hyuuga stayed away from him. Better if Hyuuga would forget about him entirely. He shouldn't have gotten involved with humans outside his world. It was inevitable all this happened. And yet, he kind of hoped Hyuuga's memories would be altered in the end. If just to talk to him one last time.

He took a step, pausing when pain shot up his leg. He shot an annoyed glare at his leg. Now was as good a time as any.

Slumping against the wall, he slid down to the floor, his shirt riding up. He sighed heavily as his body ached, and he mentally prepared for the pain to come as he rolled up his uniform pant leg, revealing the crooked leg of where the bones had improperly mended. Holding his breath, he positioned his hands on his leg and applied pressure, re-breaking the bone and grunting in pain as he reset the bone properly.

While waiting for the bone to heal again, he wondered how he was going to get through yet another week low on blood. He was in even more of a deficit than before. How was he going to get through this one without making things worse than he already had?

He waited until his leg fully healed before attempting to stand. A dull pain throbbed at the freshly healed injury as he walked. Thoughts of his growing problems filled his head, pushing out his pain and discomfort of hunger with thoughts of recent events.

He walked through the school's front entrance and down the brick pathway to the school gates. The dark night sky felt like a comforting blanket. The darkness hid flaws and imperfections from the world. Even for a little while, he liked to think it hid his too.

As he neared the exit, the hairs on the back of his neck rose just seconds before he saw them. Uchiha, Sasuke and his butler entered through the gates, Uchiha taking the lead with the butler following two steps behind.

Uchiha only glanced at him as he passed, keeping a swift walking pace without being in a hurry.

Gaara's eyes followed him, having a brief idea of why he was here. He wondered; if he was a full vampire, would he have been able to walk like that, unafraid, full of confidence, and unashamed. Wouldn't that be a nice dream? Unrealistic, but nice.

Turning his eyes forward, he continued his lone walk to the waiting town car.