Neji woke to a soft clank of the incense pot being moved from the table. The sound startled him, and he looked around to figure out what was going on and where he was. He recalled falling asleep in the loft area, and he noticed immediately that Gaara was gone. In Gaara's place was Kankuro, refilling the pot of incense on the desk.

Tiredly, Neji rubbed his face, trying to dispel the remaining images of the dream he was having. He had thought the last time he had that dream would have been the last. Kankuro moving about caused Neji to cross his legs as he tried to think cold thoughts.

"I should say thank you," Kankuro said, lighting the new set of incense. "He got 6 hours of sleep last night and was fed well. His skin hasn't had color like that in years." Kankuro turned his eyes onto Neji, and the look Kankuro gave him felt like ice. He knew Kankuro didn't like him, but today felt different. Kankuro's gaze felt colder and more condescending, "And yet, I can't."

Kankuro approached him, his presence keeping Neji firmly rooted to the spot. He wasn't sure, but he swore the shadows had moved during his approach. "I hope you can keep it up."

It wasn't a choice. It sounded more like an ultimatum. "As long as Gaara allows me,"

"Kankuro," Gaara had entered, his voice borderline threatening. "Waqef," Gaara demanded in Arabic.

Kankuro's eyes darted to Gaara's direction then he blinked slowly and looked forward. The pressure that had kept Neji rooted suddenly disappeared as if it was never there.

Kankuro promptly left, leaving Gaara to glare at his back until he went out of sight. "If he wants us to leave, he should just say so," Gaara muttered, effectively going to the pot of incense to smother the fire with his hand.

Neji opened his mouth to tell him to be careful, but Gaara wasn't even fazed, the skin healing in seconds. Right. "How does he do that?"

He didn't have to clarify what "that" was. He may not know Arabic well, but he could tell Gaara had stopped Kankuro from doing something.

"A trick," Gaara answered. He had his back to Neji, obscuring the view of Gaara's face. "He uses it as a mimicry of an old vampire trick. Helps weed out who's a hunter and deserving of his attention or an ant."

Neji thought about it. The feeling had been similar, but different enough that it hadn't drawn his immediate attention. The way Kankuro kept him in place was similar to when Uchiha looked at him. He would feel fear and be unable to move, but the fear he felt between the two were very different. He feared Uchiha as a predator while Kankuro was more intimidating combined with something physically restraining him rather than his own fear keeping him immobile. "You are talking about the stare."

Gaara nodded. "Vampires, when they look at prey, project a wave of chakra. Those who are untrained are overwhelmed by the hostile and malicious intent. They become frozen with fear, not unlike deer in headlights. It's also an easy way to pick out hunters from a crowd of civilians. It is difficult to fake such a level of innate fear."

So that was why Uchiha and sometimes Gaara froze him in place with just a look. He knew of chakra from martial arts, but he thought of it more as a concept or metaphor. "How does he mimic something like that?" he asked with curiosity in his voice with more and more questions filling his mind.

Gaara dumped the pot of incense into the trash. The sound of it hitting the bottom of the metal can, rang out. It changed the atmosphere of the room, becoming heavy. "Are you really aware of what you did last night?" Gaara asked.

Neji still couldn't see his face. It sent uneasiness through Neji being unable to see what Gaara was thinking or feeling. Was he angry? Upset? Guilty? "Was it anything different than what we've done before?"

Gaara placed his hands on the desk. His nails dug into the wood as he responded. "I didn't know what I was doing back then, and you were unaware of everything. Just being aware allows easier access to your chakra, and you don't know how to properly use it. If you offered every drop of chakra to me, I wouldn't be able to stop myself, and you don't know your limits."

"Then teach me."

Gaara turned as if Neji had said the wrong thing. He looked frustrated as if Neji wasn't understanding something simple. He looked away again, unable to meet Neji's eyes. Quietly, he went walked quickly to the bookshelves on either side of the window. His eyes roamed over the titles then proceeded to pull out several large and heavy books. After picking out 6 books, he dumped them on the desk, dropping them with a loud bang. "Knock yourself out." Gaara stormed off.

Confused, Neji looked between the books and Gaara. Should he follow Gaara or give him space? He wanted to follow. He had just managed to get a little closer to Gaara and didn't want to mess it up. On the other hand, space might be better. He didn't know why Gaara was upset with him. Until he understood, it might be better to wait.

Neji looked through the books. One was an Arabic to English dictionary, the others he was unsure about. One was in English and one was in Japanese, the other three were in Arabic. He brought the Japanese book to the top of the pile and flipped through the pages. Quickly, through the illustrations, he picked up they were books on chakra, just was Neji asked for.

Somehow, that made Neji feel worse. Sighing, he cursed under his breath, hitting the desk with his fist. After another internal debate, he plopped himself into the chair and started going through the first book.

He spent two hours on it. Even in Japanese, the book was difficult to understand. The language was outdated and reminded him of mid to late Heian Period writings. For once he was happy his uncle had forced him to take his Japanese studies seriously. It made the process significantly easier, but he still had to look up meanings lengthening the process.

The book discussed the origin of chakra, how chakra flows through every living, and to an extent non-living, things. How certain gods and demons taught humans how to use the chakra in variations of objects and martial arts. His uncle had told him stories like this in the past when he was taught the fundamentals and origins of his family's martial arts. It was one of the few pleasant memories he had with his uncle, during the time when his father was alive. He would sit in his uncle's lap, Sayuri sitting in her mother's, and he would tell them the origins of their martial arts. How the founder of their clan served under the reigning lord, protecting him from the many demons who tried to attack him, developing their martial arts in the process.

In hindsight, maybe he should have taken those stories more seriously, not that he'd have a reason to think any of it was real. Reading the book, however, while reminding him of a better time in his life, did make him feel foolish for overlooking those stories.

He leaned back in the chair, staring at the pages before him. He had just begun reading about techniques to become aware of chakra, and basic manipulation techniques when he decided he needed a break. He wanted to get his practice done before it hit noon and the heat became too intense.

Donning a pair of workout clothes, and knowing better this time not to take off his shirt, he went out to practice. It was still morning, but the sun was already beating down on him. He already knew he wouldn't be able to practice long. He had only just set out and the sun was already draining him.

He sat in the shade of the wall, attempting meditation, putting the techniques he had read into practice. It was funny, the way the book described the meditation was very similar to how his uncle had taught him. It was supposed to be a way to gather and circulate his chakra.

He had to feel and understand his sense of self. His mind had to remain clear, his heart untroubled. He had to feel the pulse of his blood, feel it circulate throughout his body, feel the life it carried. The buzz returned. Instead of being concentrated in his hands, it was diluted, spreading throughout his body, moving like a current. This, he realized astonished, was chakra.

His shock made the circulation waiver and dim until he refocused his mind. He spent an hour just familiarizing himself with it. Yes, he knew this feeling well. It had grown over the years, growing stronger as he honed his martial arts skill.

Opening his eyes, he could still sense his chakra, flowing throughout his body. It wasn't a prominent feeling or concentrated in any way. It was subtle, like a heartbeat, there but easily ignored when calm and steady.

Across the sand, standing near the back door, Gaara stood, watching him. Did he come out here to watch him? Wasn't he angry? But in Gaara's hands was a bottle of water.

Their eyes met.

Gaara looked away first, and he disappeared back inside. He couldn't help feeling disappointed at his disappearance. He would like to train with Gaara again like he used to.

Sighing, he finished his session going through fundamental martial arts movements, concentrating on feeling how his chakra moved and reacted with each stance. Moving made staying aware of his chakra more difficult, but he noticed the movements tend to cumulate the chakra in his hands. The palms to be exact.

Again, he spent a limited amount of time on it, not intending to worry Gaara today. Going so slow, he was also more aware of how hot it was and grew tired of wiping his forehead free from sweat. The sun was just reaching its peak as he went inside. He hoped to see Gaara waiting. Not surprisingly, he wasn't.

He ate lunch alone and went back to pouring over the books, absorbing as much information as he could, taking notes and translations, and even taking a small look at the English book as well, but in the back of his mind, he was still thinking about Gaara.

He didn't tear his eyes away until the natural sunlight he had been using began to fade. His eyes were tired and starting to hurt, so he called it quits for the day. Even at dinner, Gaara was nowhere to be seen, and by nightfall, even after searching, Neji could not find Gaara. He was obviously avoiding him.

Was learning about chakra that upsetting? Everyone around Gaara knew about chakra, could use it, so why couldn't he? What was the big deal?

Hoping to find an answer, he sought out Kankuro, but even he seemed to be missing. After questioning a servant, he found out Kankuro had left on a business trip. Out of options, he went to bed. Hopefully tomorrow, he'd be luckier.


Sometimes, you could only be thankful for small miracles. Uchiha and Naruto could not have chosen a better time to leave the country, getting out of their grasp before the shinobi could respond appropriately to the magazine scandal and missing the initial outcry of anger from the clans. Had they stayed; some clans might have attacked Naruto that night without permission.

Tsunade speculated if that was the reason why Uchiha had really left. Contrary to what the majority of the clans believed she did not believe that Uchiha knew of Naruto's host status. She could only question him lightly without bringing up sensitive information, but his activities on the island did not match someone purely looking to find and release a vampire lord. If that was the case, why stay on the island after getting Naruto within his grasps? Even after revoking Deidara's permission to come onto the island, he still came back with Naruto.

His servant was also strange, digging for information into the police department recently. It led her to believe if maybe the cop they had been looking for was the same person they had claimed to look they had asked permission to come to the island.

Of course, Uchiha's intentions did not matter. It's the result of his actions. Naruto was about to become a perfect vessel to house the lord's soul. One that could sustain a large portion of his power and possibly become a suitable body for the lord to take over. Even a fraction of the lord's power could be deadly. It was something they could not afford.

Another headache was forming from the stress, and she already had two pills already out next to a glass of water. At this point, she was prepared for it.

Uchiha was back on the island, but due to having Sasori within their grasps, she didn't want to rock the boat any more than they already had. One thing at a time, she told herself.

A knock on her door, she told them to come in.

Nara, Shikamaru came in, a stack of papers in his hand. "'Tsunade-sama," he gave a half-hearted bow, sounding board. "My father has started the interviews as requested. He suspects he will have a report ready for you within 72 hours."

"That soon?" she said surprised. Nara, Shikaku, Shikamaru's father, had flown in from Rome just two days ago to get to the bottom of the memory manipulation case. Getting Shikaku to come back to Japan was like trying to get the prime minister over for tea. Possible but required a lot of work and networking and may not yield the results you wanted. After Shikaku had retired, he refused to get involved with much hunter work anymore. He had left his 14-year-old son as head of the clan, saying he was more than capable, and went halfway across the world to teach. That was the type of man Shikaku was.

It was also undeniable that Shikaku was, like his son, a genius, and also like his son, he enjoyed a good mystery. It was that curiosity that had led him back here on a temporary and very limited basis.

"My father doesn't like to sleep until a problem is solved," Shikamaru answered, used to his father's behavior and not giving it much thought. Shikamaru probably did the same thing honestly. The boy was a small clone of his father. "He also said he was already tired of the clan politics and wanted to go back to Rome as soon as possible."

"Right. What did he find out so far?" Tsunade extended her hand for the file which Shikamaru supplied.

"He's pretty sure the cop is the intruder that we had suspected. From his abilities, he believes that the intruder wasn't human, and likely a vampire. He has no proof, but he feels the ability to arrange memories without a noticeable change in chakra levels and the ease in which he incorporated the technique is beyond human capabilities. I admit that I agree with my father's assessment."

"So he's with Uchiha after all?"

"No. From what my father was able to put together, his has avoided Uchiha as much as possible yet he has also manipulated memories concerning Uchiha. Our working theory is that he's working against Uchiha, but we have not determined why. He's also been investigating the corpses we have been encountering and asking about Uzumaki-san."

"Naruto?" Why was he asking about Naruto? Any answer couldn't be a good one. "Keep me informed of his progress and bring any information you deem important to me immediately. The enemy is already ahead of us, we need to catch up and get ahead as soon as possible."

"Yes ma'am." Shikamaru bowed.

She heard him leave, but he was thinking. How were these things connected? Assuming the cop was the vampire Uchiha was looking for, why would he be looking for Naruto? The corpses could be connected to Orochimaru and his research which might explain why Naruto was involved, but wouldn't Gaara be the better option then? Gaara was a result of those experiments and would be a better candidate, whether to create a vampire-human hybrid or choose a host to be taken over by a lord. And yet, Gaara barely had contact with the cop. Just the one encounter. Even Naruto had met the cop only once and it was reported about his disappearance and nothing more. He filled in for Asuma, but she wasn't sure the death was connected or if the cop was forced to fill in for Asuma after he disappeared. There were too many variables.

She took the pills she had put aside. Maybe she should consider finding a successor, she thought tiredly. Shikamaru might be a good choice. He had a level head and made smart decisions. If he was more invested in the events and people around him, he would be perfect.

Putting that fanciful thought aside, her eyes landed on a folder peeking out from under all the papers on her desk. She had been avoiding it, but she had to confront it eventually. Picking up the phone, she dialed Jiraiya's number.


Nightmares. So many nightmares. To be able to sleep the night before was like heaven. His head rested on what felt like a cloud. He felt so safe, but Gaara knew it was Seth's doing. Every nightmare ended with Neji saving him, comforting him until it started all over.

Gaara sat in the sand, gazing out into the distance of the endless desert. Neji, he just didn't understand, or did he plan to become a hunter after all? Maybe Neji hadn't really given up on killing him.

His eyes shut in fear, like if he could escape that possibility if he chose not to look. He didn't want to face that possibility.

Strong, warm hands grasped his shoulders gently followed by the feather-light touch of lips on the back of his neck. Long hair brushed against his arms and hot breath caressed his skin. "You're overthinking again Gaara," Hyuuga whispered. His tone was light and flirty, full of affection, as he left many chaste kisses.

"Hyuuga…" Gaara didn't object right away. Hyuuga's touch had become so familiar over the many nightmares like they belonged on him. They were meant to hold him.

Hyuuga dragged his lips on his skin, bringing them to Gaara's ear. "Isn't it about time you called me Neji?" His deep voice sent a shiver down his spine. What was this feeling? It felt…pleasurable. Especially when Hyuuga's hands slid down his arms then moved to Gaara's abdomen coming back up, dragging his nails in the process.

Gaara bit his lip, clutching his hands resting on his thighs, trying not to move. "It's not… I'm not—" his voice was lost, feeling Hyuuga's sweaty chest press against Gaara's back, his cheek nuzzling Gaara's hair, and his thumbs nudging and teasing Gaara's nipples with his nails.

First the first time in his life, Gaara felt hot. Heat had never affected him. It would be absurd for the host of the lord of deserts to overheat. He didn't know how to react. His heart was beating faster, his breathing quickly becoming heavier. He should stop this. This feeling was too much for him. It felt like control was being taken away from him and being given to someone else. He felt vulnerable.

But he liked it.

"It's okay," Hyuuga assured, kissing his head. "Give in to it. I'll take care of you like always."

It was so tempting. The way his voice lulled him into a sense of security, but that wasn't his doing. Just Seth's conditioning. "I don't like it," his voice shook., trying his hardest to keep it steady.

"Really?" Hyuuga sounded disappointed, "Then who are you thinking of that's making you nice and hard?"

Gaara's face turned red, and he turned his head to try to put distance between Hyuuga's mouth and his ear. He couldn't think when Hyuuga kept whispering into this ear like that. He also shifted, trying to hide his erection with his hands.

"Don't be embarrassed," Hyuuga used a hand to gently pull Gaara's away. "I think it's kind of hot," Gaara felt something hard press against his lower back. "It makes me want to touch it."

Gaara watched Hyuuga's other hand slowly move down, getting closer and closer to his erection. He anticipated this, breathing getting faster. He anticipated and wanted it. Hyuuga's hands belonged on him, but…

It was too hard to think. Too much control was out of his hands. Too much trust was being given. "St-p." Gaara said weakly.

Hyuuga's hand cupped him. It was just too much. "Stop!" he screamed, shoving Hyuuga away from him. "That's enough, Seth!" he screamed angrily.

Hyuuga who had fallen over at Gaara's escaped huffed in annoyance. Before his eyes, he watched his Hyuuga shift into Seth's form. The lord looking more than annoyed at Gaara's interference. Was that necessary, Seth growled out, sounding oddly like a pouting child. It was just getting good.

"You! You have no right," Gaara snarled. "You have no right to force me to have these dreams and try to change and confuse me with how I feel about him!"

Seth laughed, almost maniacally, like it was the funniest thing in the world, putting Gaara off. I've done nothing of the sort, he said between laughs.

What did that mean, Gaara thought with annoyance as he watched Seth finally stand up. He wanted to punch the fallen deity but restrained if just barely. Angering Seth would yield consequences Gaara really didn't want to deal with.

As usual, he was unable to fully hide his thoughts from Seth, and Seth answered his question. Do you know how long it has been since I have felt, let alone had, the pleasure of feeling two bodies embrace? Centuries. I don't even get the small satisfaction of feeling you pleasure yourself. In fact, none of you seem to think about sex. It's excruciatingly boring.

Of course, none of them thought about sex. How could they when by the time the hosts reached puberty, Seth was already wearing them down. Not to mention most hosts never saw another human being for most of their life. They remained locked away from birth until their young death. There was no time, energy, or chance to do anything close to what Seth was suggesting.

But then I sensed you were about to have a wet dream. Your first one. I was so proud, Seth mocked. But your lack of experience or knowledge about the subject entirely, Seth looked disgusted, Do you think I would sit by and watch you get off by that Hyuuga child simply petting your hair, maybe giving you some small kisses on the forehead in the process? Seth gave his jackal smile. So, I decided to introduce you to a more adult type of love. I doubt you would look up porn yourself.

"No," Gaara shook his head in denial. "This feeling, you gave it to me. I don't—"

Seth grabbed Gaara's chin, forcing him to look Seth in the eyes. Did I make you think Hyuuga's hands felt good running through your hair? Did I make you cuddle up to him in your sleep? Did I make your body aroused at the thought Hyuuga would do dirty things to you? His thumb ran over Hyuuga's cheek. If it were someone else, let's say Uzumaki, whom you love and trust, would him doing those things to you make you so aroused?

Gaara tried to look away, but Seth just yanked his chin so their eyes would meet again. Face it, child, the feelings you have for Hyuuga is all your own. I just exploit them for my benefit, whether it is convincing you to take his chakra so I have a stronger host or helping you get off so I can find some release myself.

Seth smile became wider and more sincere, letting Gaara go. The serious tone Seth had held took a backseat to a humorous one and went to petting Gaara's head like a child. I can't stay mad at you. How can I blame you for how inexperienced you are? I mean, you were about to come just from that little display, and we hadn't even gotten to the good stuff yet.

Gaara looked down, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, making Seth even more gleeful at his misery.

And a word of advice to take into the waking world, child, try touching yourself for once. Build up some endurance. Nothing is more embarrassing than ejaculating early. So when Hyuuga does come to take your cute little cherry, you can last long enough for him to actually take it.

Before Gaara could even get a word in, Seth turned to sand, disappearing in the wind.


Gaara woke abruptly. It felt like he had been thrown back into his own body after that dream. It was disorienting, but not as disorienting at the realization that his staff was standing at attention.

Tiredly, Gaara placed his elbows on his knees and clutched his hair. This was a problem. A major problem. Seth had reached an all-time low, manipulating his dreams and feelings to get himself off. He was also noticing Seth was speaking to him more through his dreams. Sure, Seth tormented him his every waking moment, but rarely so directly.

And now, Seth was trying to convince him he was attracted to Hyuuga, trying to condition him into believing that. Because Seth was a liar. He didn't have such feelings. He couldn't be capable of them, and no one should be unlucky enough to receive them.

Glancing at the clock, he acknowledged that it was going to be another sleepless night. Now, he had to get rid of this little problem. Briefly, the idea to rub one out entered his mind. He had to admit to being curious, but he didn't want Seth to get the satisfaction either. Just the thought of Seth getting off on him simultaneously made him angry and sick.

Grabbing a towel, he went to the attached bathroom, turned on the cold water, and let it do its work. It was an unpleasant feeling. The cold water hitting his heated flesh. He didn't like it at all, and once again the idea of touching himself came sneaking back into his mind.

Hands shaking, a combination of cold and nerves, he started to reach for his erection. Just centimeters from wrapping his hand around his member, he aborted, hitting the shower wall with frustration. "Just ride it out," he told himself, pressing his forehead against the tiles.

It took time, but it did flag. How did teenagers deal with this with any frequency? It was inconvenient, uncomfortable, and frustrating. He breathed out slowly in relief and changed the temperature to hot. He wouldn't let Seth win. Now that he knew what to be wary of, he would not be caught off guard again. That in mind, he strengthened his resolve and turned off the water.


Gaara had been avoiding Neji for days. Every meal, and sometimes in between, he'd search for Gaara, and every night he'd stay up as late as he could to catch a glimpse of him. He always fell asleep on the window bench, but he'd find a blanket over him that wasn't there before.

The only time he caught sight of Gaara was during his practices, watching him with that bottle of water clutched in his hands. Neji must have really worried him the first day, but if he acknowledged that Gaara was there by staring too long or trying to approach or call out to him, Gaara would leave.

It hurt, seeing Gaara actively avoid him, and would wonder if Gaara hated him. Gaara coming to check on him would indicate otherwise, but he could not figure out why Gaara was avoiding him. He thought they had a nice moment before, and it all fell apart by asking about chakra. Even after all the reading, he didn't understand why Gaara was so against him learning.

During the day, he would go over the book, studying them to the best of his abilities. Some things, no matter how many times he went over them, did not make sense. Other times they seemed to make sense in theory, but in practice never worked. He was reaching a dead end. A lot of history and theories, but the practical use did not seem to work for him. He could not understand why some things worked exceedingly well while others didn't work at all.

He had also taken to doing his practices during the early morning while the sun was down so he could practice longer. He could get a good 4 hours in, stopping a couple of hours before noon and avoid the worst of the heat. Even sitting in the shade, he had gained a dark tan over the days. If he went home, everyone would probably be shocked. He kind of liked it. He thought of it as the beginning to a new him, casting away his old self.

Currently, he was sitting in the shade, hands held out in front of him. He was imagining that he was holding a ball, focusing his chakra into it. While it was easy to focus his chakra into his hands and even expel it from his body, holding it there in front of him was another story. He wanted his chakra to transform into another physical substance, water specifically. He thought it would be a useful skill to learn.

Sweat poured down his face in a river and though his muscles were relaxed, he felt as if he was straining, like he was fighting to inhale. He could feel the chakra in between his hands swirling in a sphere-shaped pattern. This was as far as he could ever get. As he tried to imagine the next step, the image of cool water, the chakra in his hands exploded violently, expanding outward like a wave of pressurized hot air, singing his hands.

Neji bit back a cry of pain, dropping his hands and cradling them for a second. He bit the inside of his cheek, rocking back and forth to ride through the pain. He was closer that time. He could feel it. However, the consequence of failing seemed to be growing as well.

He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, preparing himself mentally for another try. This would be the last one for the day, he told himself. He wanted to get it right as soon as possible. He brought his hands in front of him again, ignoring the red and blistering skin to try another time.

"You should stop. Your body isn't suited for transformative chakra techniques."

Neji's eyes snapped open, excited to hear Gaara's voice after several days, hoping it wasn't some hallucination from sitting in the heat for too long.

Gaara was kneeling in front of him. He looked tired and the color his skin had acquired days ago had faded significantly. His head was down, avoiding Neji's gaze, but took Neji's hand into his own without asking, making Neji flush and become a bit flustered. Gaara poured the cold water over Neji's hand, causing him to wince.

"What do you mean?" Neji asked, watching Gaara tend to his wounded hands.

"Everybody has a predisposition toward specific elements and chakra techniques. Some are better at transformative ones while others are stronger at manipulation. In childhood, the way a child grows up further influences what affinity their chakra will take. A child who grows up near water will find manipulating or transforming their chakra into water more natural than another element like fire or earth. In your case, you have been trained in your family's martial arts and chakra techniques. At your age and having dabbled in a very limited range until now, it will be difficult to learn anything else. Not impossible, just hard."

In summary, he was wasting his time, Neji concluded. He had a feeling he had understood or translated something wrong to not figure it out himself. He was disappointed at hearing that, but his mistake did bring Gaara out of hiding if just to attend to his hands. Gaara was busy, putting an ointment on them, when Neji said, "I'm sorry. I'm not sure why you're angry at me, but I'm sorry."

Gaara's hands stopped what they were doing, still touching Neji's hands that were still flowing with chakra for Gaara to take. Gaara's hands began to tremble, and his grip on Neji's hand tightened before he visibly forced himself to relax. "I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at myself."

Using the hand Gaara had not gotten to, he placed it on top of Gaara's. "Why?"

Gaara's breath came out shaky when Neji touched him. "You have no idea how tempting you are," his voice had a tremor, making him sound small and scared. "Every time I touch you, I can't help but take what you're offering. Sometimes, I want to just lock you away and take everything from you, just so I don't have to feel hungry anymore. That's the type of monster I am. The only thing keeping me at bay was knowing you were clueless about chakra, that you didn't know how it worked, that you could die if I took too much and that it was your life force you were playing with. If you didn't know, you'd still be a civilian, and I couldn't touch you."

He pulled his hands away from Neji's grasp to grab the bandages he had carried out. Evidently, he had been watching Neji for a while and had come prepared. "But if you know, if you actively train, you are a hunter. The rules change, and I can bend them to get what I want." Gaara stared at the bandages in his hands. He was disgusted with himself. "But you kept insisting, and the harder it becomes to resist you knowing that." He clenched the bandages in his hand. "You should go back to Japan soon. For your safety."

Another scare tactic, and this time, Gaara had meant it. He was truly trying to restrain himself from harming Neji. While that information indeed caused Neji some worry, he could not ignore how much healthier Gaara had looked when they spent time together, how much happier and at peace he looked, and how much Gaara detested himself for his dark thoughts caused from wanting to live comfortably, a right everyone around him had while it was only a luxury he could not afford.

Neji brought his hand to Gaara's cheek, and he watched with fascination with how Gaara leaned into it despite himself, and the pain and humiliation it caused Gaara for unable to resist it. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to live like everyone else," he told him soothingly. "And I don't want to die either, so let's do it like this."

He pried the bandages from Gaara with his other hand and held it up between them. "You teach me more about chakra. Teach me to better control it and feel it, and every night, until you have to d—… until you have to leave," Neji had to swallow the lump in his throat unable to say Gaara's fate, "I'll give you my chakra. I'll make sure you want for nothing, never be hungry, never suffer a restless night. This way, I won't go overboard with how much I give you because I do want to give it to you," Neji added the last part when Gaara looked like he was about to protest. "You've done so much for me, I wish I could do more."

Gaara was bewildered, unable to comprehend or accept what Neji was offering him. There was hope, guilt, confusion, shame, and somewhere deep underneath it all, relief. Carefully, Gaara took the bandages from him, and finished wrapping his hands, neither accepting nor declining the proposal. The moment between them was quiet, but it was very comfortable, bathing in the presence of each other.

Once finished, Gaara got behind Neji, "Close your eyes, and try to feel my chakra," he murmured. Gaara then slipped his hands underneath Neji's shirt, placing them on his back. Neji was hyper-aware of Gaara's hands, so cold compared to his hot skin. He arched a little at the touch and became very tense. "Relax," Gaara encouraged, still keeping a low tone. "I won't hurt you."

Neji felt bad that he made Gaara say that because he wasn't tense because he was afraid of Gaara. Quite the opposite in fact, and it was troubling him. It was just another guy. He had seen men naked before, he went to the public baths all the time. He had even roughhoused a little with his classmates in the bath during the school trips. So he shouldn't be so aware of Gaara's hands. But he was.

Turning the attention inward, he tried to focus not on the hands, but the foreign chakra spreading across his skin. It wasn't entering his body, just fleeting across the surface like a water spider. It was hard to catch and identify.

"Don't give me your chakra. You have to learn to deny me. I can't accept your proposal if you can't do this."

As Gaara said, Neji could feel his chakra, heading towards Gaara's hands, leaving his body. He struggled to stop it. On some level, he didn't want to. It was natural to give it to him, and he understood why Gaara was so reluctant. Neji, on some subconscious level, would not stop if Gaara did not stop it himself.

He could not allow Gaara to pass up the proposal. With effort, he tried to contain his chakra. To deny Gaara felt physically painful to him, making his stomach churn and feel nauseous, but he pushed through. He wanted Gaara to accept.

The best he managed by the end of a day was a thin membrane, that wavered and broke quite often anytime, Gaara exerted any of his chakra against it, but Neji was too tired to keep going at it, reaching the end of his chakra reserves and feeling very listless. He had only been sitting, but he felt like he ran a marathon, every muscle exhausted and standing proving to be a challenge. Gaara removed his hands, keeping space between them. The only sensible thing for Gaara to do would be to decline. Neji had failed. Despite all the progress and lessons he had learned, it felt pointless.

"If we do this," Gaara said quietly, resisting the urge to help Neji stand, "we'll have to prioritize this. If there is ever a moment, you collapse, whether from physical or mental strain, for whatever reason, we'll stop. No discussion. No exceptions."

Neji held out his pinky. This got a small laugh out of Gaara. "Come on," Neji urged, but Gaara shook his head.

"If you break your promise, you might actually try to cut it off."

"Wouldn't you?" Neji countered.

"No," Gaara replied.

Neji still insisted, bringing his pinky closer to Gaara. "Then you have nothing to lose."

Gaara could have replied that it would make the promise pointless then, that it was just one-sided, but to his surprise, Gaara extended his pinky too and they locked fingers. "Then it's a promise," Neji said, smiling.

Gaara looked like he wanted to smile too. The corners were turned up just slightly, but something kept him from doing so as he stared at their joined hands. "Yeah," Gaara replied, distracted. "You should go inside."

"Yeah," Neji complied, staggering into the house. The cool air hit his face full force, and it was pure bliss. A nap called out to him, and he was eager to heed that call. This fatigue was different than his physical practices. His mind felt hazy, and his body was moving with little energy, almost like the life had been drained out of him.

He smirked at that comparison. Well, he was using his spirit, his life force, and was probably low. Sleep and rest were the only way to restore it without special concoctions, at least that's what he read. He had made it to the kitchen when he remembered he had left one of the textbooks he was reading outside. Inwardly, he groaned but still turned around to retrace his steps to the courtyard. He didn't want to give Kankuro any more reason to dislike him and accidentally destroying priceless old books was a good way to piss him off.

Incredibly slowly, he moved towards the courtyard, concentrating to keep his jelly legs from buckling. He refused to give Gaara an excuse to break off their agreement. He was looking forward to tonight though he could not put a finger on why.

He reached out, ready to pull back the glass sliding door when he stopped, stunned by the scene in front of him. 4 bodies littered the ground, two with gaping holes in their torsos, the other two cut in half, their blood seeping into the sand and staining it a deep garnet red. Two more bodies were suspended in the air, both impaled by a stalagmite made of sand protruding from the ground where Neji had been practicing moments ago.

Gaara stood in the sand, the particles swirling around him like a protective barrier. Not a single particle touched him, though his hair whipped around from the wind. Neji never noticed before until then, but he never recalled sand touching Gaara's body. Seeing the way the sand moved, no, the desert, it was like it refused to touch him.

The two stalagmites dissolved into sand, dropping the two bodies, and they fell in front of Gaara. Once their body hit the ground, the swirling sphere that had appeared around Gaara dissipated as well, popping like a balloon and spreading outward in a gust of wind.

Gaara stood standing. He didn't move. Didn't speak. Just stood in the courtyard with an eerily blank expression.

Neji's eyes laid on the men, all dressed in a similar black wardrobe that covered their face. They were definitely dead. There was no mistaking it. No one could survive such grave injuries and heavy blood loss. Gaara had killed them.

Gaara finally caught sight of Neji, and his eyes widened a fraction. Barely visible. His eyes were mix-matched. One eye much lighter than the other. The lighter eye was unsettling and not human, but the other eye was as human as it could be, full of anxiety and fear, waiting for Neji's reaction.

Neji decided what to do then. Neji kept Gaara's gaze as he opened the door, putting on a smile. He walked past the bodies, and the weapons that lay neared them, ignoring them. "Are you coming?" Neji asked.
"Because I could use some help in the kitchen. I can't really raise my arms or walk for that matter."

Gaara didn't know how to react to Neji's behavior, confused then ashamed as he averted his eyes, closing them. When he opened them, his eyes were back to normal, but the fear didn't disappear. He still thought Neji would go running.

Grabbing Gaara's hand, he pulled him along. "Come on, if we ask, maybe we can eat that parfait we had for dessert two days ago with our lunch. I could do without the chocolate drizzle but the fruit was really good."

Gaara didn't resist his pull, so Neji took that as a good sign, pretending to be normal. He sat Gaara down in the kitchen and tracked down a servant to ask about desserts for Gaara. With limited Arabic, he managed to get his order in, though the servants seemed more than a little hesitant to fulfill his request. He noticed they never really served Gaara, at least not from what he saw, and busied his mind on this quandary rather than what he had accidentally witnessed outside.

Gaara was still sitting in silence as if he was in shock. Neji wasn't sure if he was or not, but he did his best to act normal, keeping up a one-sided conversation as lunch was prepared. Try as he might, he got little reaction from Gaara, and after only one parfait, he excused himself.

Neji used the time apart wisely, using it to deal with his own shock. It was easier than he thought it would be. Due to his training earlier, he fell asleep the moment he went to his room. He knew he had to go to Gaara, but sleep claimed him almost the second he crossed the threshold. That had been around noon.

When he woke up again, it was nearly midnight, 12 hours later. He cursed at himself for falling asleep. Honestly, he was still a little drowsy, but his energy levels felt restored to some degree. He would be able to keep his promise to Gaara, he was confident of that, assuming Gaara did not change his mind and back out.

Thankfully, Gaara didn't appear to have gone into hiding again. He was sitting at the window bench, staring outside as he did almost every night. What did Gaara see when he looked out that window? What kept his interest for such long periods of time? There was nothing but desert, yet Gaara still stared out.

Gaara sat tense, waiting for his approach, so Neji tried to approach him as he normally would. Cause nothing was wrong, he told himself, and he sat on the bench. "Do you want to do it like last time?" he asked.

Gaara turned his head just enough to see Neji but did not look at him directly. He continued to sit mute, not giving any insight into what he was thinking.

"Should I get the incense to help you relax?" Neji asked after some time. "You can lay on my lap again."

Gaara finally moved, but it was to curl up more than he had before, pulling his legs closer and pressing his body against the wall and window. Neji was beginning to think all of today's progress was lost when Gaara tentatively extended a hand.

Neji immediately scooted closer so he could take it. Gaara's hands were much softer than his. Not really surprising since his hands were covered in calluses from years of training, but Gaara's hands were also very warm.

Again, Gaara had that look of self-loathing he tried to conceal, especially when he brought Neji's hand closer to rest on his knees, grasping it tightly. He hated that look on Gaara's face.

"Aren't you going to ask?" Gaara hoarsely whispered.

Neji leaned back against the window, feeling the cold glass seep through his clothes. "I saw the weapons. What more do I need clarified?"

Gaara gripped his hand tighter, gaining a small wince from Neji. "I was ready to die. Yet I'm still here, and they're dead."

"And I'm … happy they're dead. Because that means they failed, and you're still here. So, I guess that makes you a better person than me."

A single tear ran down Gaara's face before hid his face by placing his forehead against his knees and consequently against Neji's hand. "Can I… sit closer to you?" he whispered with the frailty of a small child.

"Yeah."

Gaara remained still for some time even after gaining permission. Neji contemplated making the first move to help him out, but Gaara slowly lifted his head and little by little, he repositioned himself, swinging his legs down to the floor and sitting with his side pressed to Neji's, never letting go of his hand in the process.

Neji had only said he was happy about their deaths to ease Gaara's guilt; however, as he said it, he discovered that it was true. He was happy they were dead. They had tried to kill Gaara, and though Gaara warned him that it was his fate, he didn't want to accept it. He wasn't just happy, he found a hatred that was burning that made him curse them for not only their attempt on his life but for making Gaara hate himself simply for defending himself.

Neji was no better than them. He had done the same. He knew that. He could sympathize with their logic, and understand what they were probably trying to do, but that did not seem to matter to him. That change was alarming. He was willing to turn a blind eye to death for Gaara. He was changing, and he was aware of it. Should he accept or reject this change? Did it make him better or worse than before? He didn't know.

Gaara's head fell onto his shoulder with a plop, sound asleep. Before his eyes, Gaara was looking healthier as time passed. The regenerative properties of vampires were really impressive to be able to see visible changes. So many legends were based around the idea of immortality and eternal beauty. People would kill to have what Gaara had, while Gaara would probably do anything to give it away.

The more he came to learn about Gaara and understand, the more his own situation seemed to pale in comparison. To think there was a time he thought Gaara was a spoiled, privileged politician's child seemed so long ago, and he regretted ever thinking it. He regretted not talking to him sooner so that Gaara could have had an easier time in school. He hated that Gaara was bringing out the worst in him, but the best parts as well. He felt freer than he ever had in his life, and it was only achievable by being Gaara's friend.

Gaara's hair tickled his chin. Neji attempted to adjust Gaara's head so it wouldn't tickle so much, but it only tilted Gaara's head back, bringing Gaara's lips into view. Neji's eyes could not look away. They were so close and they had felt soft when he touched them before.

A soft snore came from his parted lips.

Gaara was sound asleep. Neji didn't think he would wake easily. If he just bent down and tasted those lips for himself.

Neji froze just centimeters from fulfilling that thought and just as quickly, he straightened himself.

What was he thinking? What had he almost done? Surely, he wasn't about to …with Gaara of all people. He was straight. He was the heartthrob of the third-year class. He had the most confessions and attention. He…He wasn't a pervert.

He glanced at Gaara, and as gently as he could, rearranged Gaara's head so that it would rest against the wall instead of him.

The unease didn't subside. His heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest. Something was wrong with him, that's all, he told himself. Being alone with Gaara, he had gotten confused. Gaara had become vulnerable, like a girl, and since he hadn't masturbated in a while, his mind had gotten confused. Nevermind that nothing about Gaara came of as feminine. This incident was just him still being tired combined with some healthy teenage boy urges. The confusion would clear. He just needed to relieve himself more. Maybe consider a girlfriend when he got back. Then everything would go back to normal. He could keep his friendship with Gaara.

His flimsy excuses put him at ease enough to try to sleep. Not once did he consider leaving Gaara's side to get his thoughts in order, never thinking that it was a sign he wanted something more.