God this chapter was hard to write. This has been in my head basically since I first thought of this story, but all I really knew about it was how I wanted it to feel. I hope I was able to convey what was in my head accurately.

Thank you, as always, to my beautiful reviewers. You make every late night worth it xx

Chapter 23 – how precious a life

I don't sleep that night. I toss and turn on the uncomfortable little cot in the guard's room, listening to the ticking of a distant clock. Every tick inches closer to Hinata's death. Every one a reminder of what I will be expected to do, come tomorrow.

I've counted it forward to a rough estimate. Hinata will die at a little past two in the morning, presumably after she's woken from a nightmare. Maybe she won't wake screaming from this one, or maybe she just won't fall asleep in the first place. Either way, she'll come out of her room, and I'll be in the living room. Neji won't be with her. The other guard will probably be asleep. It'll be just her and me, completely alone. I'll make her a cup of tea, crush all of the remaining pills and put them in while her back is turned, and she'll drink the whole thing and go to bed. And then I'll leave. I'll go to the elevator and torment the two guards on my way down and I'll walk out of the front doors, leaving the horrific displays of wealth behind. Maybe Itachi will meet me a few blocks later, maybe not. I'll walk into the Uchiha complex and I'll tell Fugaku that Hinata is dead and once he has confirmation he'll give me a gun and I'll put a bullet in my brain.

It's such a simple plan, in theory. In practice? Not so much.

I realise, like a kick to the stomach, that after Hinata is dead I'll never feel that warmth of happiness again. I'll never see fireworks light up in her moonlight eyes. She'll never smile at me, like there's a secret between the two of us, and her hair will never start falling out of a messy bun and stick to her neck again. The thoughts echo through my head like a kite with no string, and I rub the heels of my palms against my eyes.

Something aches in my chest, uncomfortable and dull and present. Like a steady headache. It almost hurts, which is strange, because it isn't pain. I know pain. And pain is easy if it's consistent. This isn't pain, because I'm certainly not injured anywhere, but I don't know how else to describe it. It's like a constriction within the muscle, a band around my lungs. I lower a hand from my eyes and fist my shirt above the disturbance.

Well, disturbance or not, it's not my job to think about these things. My job is to come in and kill Hinata. Happiness and whatever-the-fuck-else isn't a part of murder.

A snore jolts me out of my reverie and I punch my pillow, turning to my side. I can just make out that it's four in the morning through the dim lights. Twenty-two hours to go. Hinata has woken, screaming, twice tonight. I wonder whether there'll be a third time. If so, Neji will likely give her another sleeping tablet. She's had a further two since that fateful night a week ago, so I'm currently working with ten and a half tablets. Twenty-one times the recommended dose. Which should definitely be enough to make sure she never wakes up.

My stomach is in knots at the thought, but I push it from my mind. I'll need to be awake in three hours, and I can't expect to be focused if I'm half dead from exhaustion.

The thought of Hinata laughing in the kitchen comes to mind, the playful glint in her eye and a smile on her lips filling my thoughts. And if that's what happiness feels like, I think I could drown in the sensation.

With that, I finally drift off to sleep.

At seven that morning I wake, rubbing sleep from my eyes and disturbances from my chest. I take a quick shower, change into my uniform, then head out to the kitchenette where Neji and Hinata are already awake and chatting happily over breakfast.

Eighteen hours, forty-three minutes and six seconds.

"Hey Gaara!" Hinata says, turning to face me. I give her a tired smile, then grab some cereal. "So, did you hear the news?" she continues as I pour breakfast into a bowl. "Tenten's getting released from hospital tomorrow morning! She's finally coming home!"

I pause a moment, hating that she'll never see Tenten again. That instead of a hug, Tenten will get a corpse. But I force a smile onto my face and dig into the fridge for some milk. "That's great," I finally say, looking at her. "You must be excited. I'm glad she's all healed up."

"Not quite," says Neji, talking over Hinata. "She's still pretty weak, so she'll need your help around the place. But yes, the muscles are, for the most part, repaired, and she'll be able to get back to her duties."

"But she's coming home, and that's what matters," Hinata insists, taking a sip of her tea. "God, it'll be nice to have a girl back here again. I'm practically choking on testosterone."

"I don't have to be female to help you, Hinata," Neji says, sounding almost wounded.

Hinata laughs, smiling at him. "Of course not. But say I were to come and ask you about… I don't know, tampons. Something tells me you wouldn't be much help."

Neji splutters and I look down at my cereal, quietly trying to eat and not give Neji a reason to involve me.

"See?" Hinata says, laughter in her voice, as if Neji's reaction proves her point. "Of course I don't need you to be a girl to keep me safe or anything. But there are just some things that girls know. It'll be nice to have that back."

Neji quickly steers the topic onto something else, and I don't even try to hide my gratitude. Tampons are definitely not something I want to think about over breakfast.

After we've all finished eating, we head to the training room, where Hinata spars with Neji for a while. They work so well together it almost looks rehearsed, until she insists that I take Neji's place and train with her instead. I try not to meet her eyes, avoid the fireworks, avoid the life. She can't be someone to me. She's just another target.

Hinata punches me in the ribs in response.

Thirteen hours, fifty-seven minutes and thirty-two seconds.

Eventually we break for lunch, and I take another shower. This time it's cold, shocking my system. I have to kill her I have to kill her I have to kill her.

After lunch Neji takes her in for more shooting practise, and she has improved so much. She almost always hits the bullseye, so Neji moves her on to a different handgun – this one is bigger, heavier, and Hinata has to adjust herself to get use to the change. I pretend I'm not staring while I commit her to memory.

I'm abruptly aware that I won't see her dead body, and am immediately grateful for it. I want to remember her like this. Alive and laughing and living and excited and working. She turns to me then, after she hits her first bullseye with the new gun, and I smile at her, the movement unconscious. She grins back, then turns to face the target. I rub at the disturbance over my chest. I have to kill her I have to kill her I have to kill her.

We break at four and Hinata goes to watch a movie, Neji suffering beside her. She pats the couch, inviting me to sit next to her, and even though I want to say no I can't. I owe her this.

Nine hours, forty-four minutes and forty-eight seconds.

I swallow hard and pretend to pay attention to the movie. I don't move when she shuffles forward and leans her head against my shoulder. Neji quirks his brow but doesn't say a thing.

When the movie is over she moves from my shoulder and asks me brightly, "So, what's for dinner?"

Seven hours, fifty-three minutes and forty-five seconds.

I swallow, and manage to say, "Whatever you'd like."

She smiles in response and says, "I don't mind, so long as you help me avoid poisoning anyone."

We make chicken schnitzel and steamed vegetables. I don't tell Hinata when she undercooks Neji's schnitzel, and she laughs when he spits out the slightly-raw chicken. I force a grin onto my face and try to make it look natural.

Six hours, fifty-four minutes and twenty-five seconds.

She brings a book out of her room, laying on the couch, a cup of tea next to her. And I feel I could watch her read a book for hours. She nibbles on her bottom lip most of the time, though her face often changes expression, I assume to match the expressions made by the characters in the books. One moment her face will light up with a grin, the next it darkens with a scowl, and then pouts, as if she were about to cry. I watch as she mouths the words she's reading, pokes her tongue out, then nibbles on her bottom lip again, the slightest smile warming her face. She delicately pushes a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear, then blindly reaches for her tea, somehow knowing exactly where it is, and takes a sip before putting it back down.

She gets a fair chunk of the way through the book before she breaks character, yawning, stretching her arms above her head. I look at the clock above me to check the time: 10:54pm.

Three hours, nine minutes and forty seconds left.

With a smile and a Good night, Gaara, she heads into her room, and I hear the shower start. Neji shoots me a curious look, then follows her in a few minutes later.

I release a shaking breath.

I have to kill her I have to kill her I have to kill her.

I sit down on the couch.

I don't want to kill her.

I watch the clock tick, and listen as a storm rolls in. I can't see the clouds through the curtains, but I can see the occasional flash of lightning. Rain pounds against the windows, beating grooves into the glass. Thunder tears through the sky, rattling the coffee table. I can't stop staring at my hands.

One in the morning.

I should crush the pills now, so I can pour the powder straight into her tea.

How does she take her tea?

I should have paid more attention to Neji when he made it eight days ago.

I don't move from the couch.

More rain, scratching at the windows like nails. My heart shouldn't be beating this fast.

Thunder tears at the clouds, bruising my ears.

It reminds me of the storm from that night. Three stories up. Rain like pins against my skin. Twisting my ankle on frictionless steel.

I remember to breathe, and draw in a rattling breath.

I don't know how I'm going to do this. How do I kill someone when I don't want them to die? How do I smile at her when I'm about to erase her smile permanently?

I focus on the ticking clock. Match my breaths to it.

The other guard lets me know he's turning in for the night. I nod, erasing my anxieties from my eyes and tell him I've got it covered. He nods at me and I face Hinata's door as his clicks shut.

I beg her silently to stay in bed. Don't come out. Don't wake up. Don't make me do this. Don't make me kill you.

I close my eyes, try to bring that calm to my mind. Breathing irregular, heartbeat faltering. I work to compose myself. Like a ritual, an assemblage of myself. Gaara the killer. Gaara the Demon.

"Gaara?"

Her whisper cracks my concentration, shattering it like shards of a mirror. She's standing at her door, curiosity and kindness shining like fireworks in her eyes. I look at the clock. 1:16am.

Forty-eight minutes and four seconds.

"Are you okay?" she asks me, quietly shutting the door behind her and coming to sit on the coffee table in front of me. Our knees are almost touching.

I nod, not meeting her eyes again, more frightened than I care to admit about what I'll find there. "Yeah, of course. Why?"

She smiles, almost as if she knows the thoughts going through my head, and takes my hand where it's resting on my knee. "You've just been really distant today. I wanted to make sure everything's alright."

I should pull my hand out of hers. She's not holding it tightly, the gentlest brushing of fingertips. Solidarity. Kindness. Compassion. I need to pull my hand out of hers, but instead I just stare at where her fingers hold mine.

"Yeah, I just didn't sleep well last night." It's not a lie. It's not the truth, but it's not a lie.

She offers me another smile. "I know what that's like."

"Did you have another nightmare?"

She shakes her head, that smile still on her lips. "No, I just couldn't sleep."

I nod, my heart frantic against my ribcage. She's looking at the curtains, thoughts drifting like clouds across her eyes. A peel of thunder cracks the silence, drowning out the hammering of the rain for a moment. "Do you think it's out there?" she asks me, her voice so soft I almost miss it. She's trying to be nonchalant, but there's a waver in her tone.

"What's out there?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"The Demon," she says, turning back to me. "I feel like it's close. I feel like it's coming for me. I feel so helpless."

I swallow, my throat constricting. I'm here, in front of you. You have forty-four minutes left, and I'll take every second I can get. "I don't know," I eventually whisper back. I can't tear my eyes from her.

"It must be lonely," she says quietly, her eyes meeting mine. "Being the Demon. Don't you think? No friends, no family, just an organisation that demands unwavering loyalty and death."

I feel like I've been punched in the gut, the wind knocked out of me. "I suppose, yeah," I eventually choke out, and hope she can't read too clearly the thoughts on my face.

"It's not really living, is it?" she continues. "If I die tomorrow, at least I've known love. Neji and Tenten, they love me, and I love them. And Hanabi. I miss putting flowers on her grave, but I loved her so much. And she loved me. She'd love tonight. She loved storms. She loved the rain."

"Are you afraid?" I blurt out before I can stop myself. She still hasn't let go of my hand. "Of dying, I mean."

She searches my eyes, like the answers are buried there. "Honestly? I'm so scared of dying," she murmurs eventually. There's a blush creeping up her cheeks, almost like she's ashamed to admit it. "I feel like I have so much more left to do. Like, this can't be it. Hiding in a building, waiting for the inevitable. I try to put on a brave face for Neji, and sometimes I think he falls for it. According to reports and hearsay Itachi Uchiha is even more dangerous than the Demon, if that's even possible, but… but he feels less threatening, somehow. I know what to look for, with Itachi. I'd know how to spot him in a crowd. But the Demon terrifies me. I don't know if I'm looking for a man or a woman. I don't know what their hair colour is or what their eyes look like or what their skin colour is. I don't know what they're capable of."

You know far more than you realise, I think to myself, but bite my tongue. Her voice is so gentle, faltering in places, but it flows across my fingers and warms my chest.

Forty-one minutes and twenty-eight seconds.

"Do you think we stand a chance?" She asks me, her eyes boring into mine. "Be honest, not like the stuff you say to Neji. If the Demon came after me again, would I make it out alive?"

Breathe, Gaara. I take a stuttering breath and close my eyes for a second, as if I'm trying to think. "I… I don't know," I manage to choke out. I look where our fingers are intertwined, staring at her gentle hands. They're hardened, with a number of callouses after years of fighting. But they're so gentle. Pale and small, wrapped in mine. "You're an excellent fighter, and now with your shooting, I think you stand some kind of a chance. Neji and Tenten at your side, you stand even more of one. But…" I drift off, knowing my own capabilities. I know I'm a better fighter than Neji, even if it's just by a bit. And I know I'm better with weapons than Tenten. Taking them both on at once would be difficult, but not impossible. I'd kill Tenten first, long range, a gun or a kunai. A bullet through the brain before she knows what's happening. I'd go for Neji next. He'd dive behind a chair or some kind of barricade as soon as Tenten is hit. We might try and shoot each other in the space between, but I know him well enough now to know that he'd want to beat me to death with his fists.

And I know his abilities well enough to know that he'd fail. It'd take a minute or two, but I'd kill him too, eventually.

"But…?" Hinata prompts, disrupting my reverie.

"But if the rumours surrounding the Demon are true," I eventually grate out, not meeting her eyes, "Then I think that chances are you wouldn't survive. You'd have a chance, of course. Thirty, maybe forty percent if you get him on a bad day."

She stays silent, and I chance a look at her eyes.

Twenty-six minutes and seventeen seconds.

"And what about with you there?" she eventually asks. She's looking down at our hands now, playing with my fingers. "Surely you'd give us at least five percent more." Her voice is teasing but her face is serious. "Maybe seven percent."

I chuckle, dark and low. "You shouldn't put so much faith in me, Hinata. I'm not the kind of person you think I am."

"No," she says, the small smile back on her lips. "You're better. You try to hide it, with sarcasm and cutting us all out. But I can see it. And I can feel it. I feel better when you're here, it's like I can breathe a little easier. I feel safer."

I scoff. "That's probably just because I pulled you away from that truck," I say, trying to rationalise it, but she shakes her head in disagreement.

"No, I don't think that's it." She looks up at me again, and I can feel my heart stutter. "I thought so at first too, and I kept trying to rationalise it. You saved my life, I thought it was just gratitude, or this belief that you saved me when others couldn't. But it's more than that. I feel like you don't want to be a good person. Like you think you're not, or you can't be, or whatever you've done or been through means you're by default a bad person. But you're not. Not to me. You're important to me. And you're good. Buried deep under all your denial and your self-hatred, you're a good person, and I think you want to do right by people. I think you just find it easier to pretend that you're not. But I don't care about what you've done, or where you've come from, or who you are. I care about you, here, now. You matter to me, Gaara. Just as you are, you're enough. And you're not always going to do the best or the right thing, but sometimes it's enough to just try."

I turn away, feeling my eyes are suddenly wet. Outside the storm rages on, and lightning outlines itself against the cracks in the curtains.

Twenty minutes and forty-six seconds.

It'll probably take at least ten minutes for her heart to stop once she's had her tea. So I need to start making it soon so that she can finish it.

But I still try to stall, as if I can push back the inevitable.

"Do you miss her? Hanabi. You never talk about her."

Hinata looks away, though I don't miss the tears in her eyes. "Hanabi was my little sister. She died in a car crash last year."

I nod. I know all that.

"Did you know she was only twelve?"

I did not know that.

"Twelve years old, and already a threat. But God, you should have seen her, Gaara. She was so smart, and as good at fighting as Neji is. She was incredible. She would have been terrifying if… if it hadn't happened. She wanted to lead our Clan so much. She couldn't wait to take over. She was always talking to father about the Clan and our goals and achievements and how to better ourselves. And she was so good. She was a bit like you, if I'm honest." She smiles at me, the fireworks back in her eyes. "She liked to pretend that she was this terrifying, emotionless warrior. That nothing scared her. That she could do anything she set her mind to. And she could! You couldn't tell Hanabi that she couldn't do something, because she'd go away and come back better than you. Just to prove that she could. But she'd always come to my room in the morning for a cuddle, and she'd always get me to sing her to sleep. She loved Blackbird. She'd beg me to sing it to her over and over, and when I'd try to leave her room she'd hold my arm and ask for one last cuddle, one last kiss before she fell asleep. When we heard about the crash… it was like something in me died too. I can't describe what losing her felt like. Still feels like. I don't talk about her often, it just hurts too much. But I hope I'm doing her proud."

She has unshed tears swimming in her eyes, and it's all I can to do not wipe them away.

"That's why we're here. I have to remind myself of that. I don't care if I die, or if father dies. The Uchiha has to know that they should never have touched Hanabi. It was my job to protect her, and I failed, so at least I can make sure that her death wasn't in vain."

One of the tears fall, and I don't even realise that I'm wiping it away until my fingers are on her cheek. "I think she'd be proud of you," I say to her, working around the lump in my throat. She smiles at me, sad and kind.

"I hope so. I'm so proud of her."

Seventeen minutes and fifty-three seconds.

Hinata yawns, smearing the rest of her unshed tears out of her eyes. My heart feels like it's about to leap out of my chest.

"I should probably go to bed," she mutters. "I don't want to. It's been nice out here. Much better than the nightmares."

"Would you like a cup of tea?" I feel the words like acid on my tongue, burning and choking me, and I wish I could snatch them back.

Hinata gives me another smile. Please say no. "That would be nice," she says, and stands as I do, far too close. Her chest is against mine, her face turned up to me. A shy blush creeps back on to her cheeks, eyes widen slightly. I don't think I've ever realised just how beautiful she is, and I want to stay here, like this. Her hand is still entwined with mine.

But I force myself to break eye contact, swallow the lump in my throat, slowly untangle my fingers from hers. "How do you take your tea?" My voice isn't nearly as blasé as I'd hoped.

She follows me to the kitchen and stands on the other side of the counter while I start boiling the kettle.

Sixteen minutes and fifty-nine seconds.

"A bit of honey and milk," she says quietly. I busy myself preparing it.

"Would you like a sleeping tablet?" I ask her, trying desperately to feign indifference. I don't meet her eyes and almost ask her aloud to decline.

"That might be a good idea," she replies, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. I watch the movement and notice the scar on her temple. Where my bullet grazed her all that time ago. Was it really only six weeks? It feels like a lifetime. So much has changed, and yet nothing has changed at the same time. I'm still the Demon. I still have to kill her. "I'd rather not have any nightmares tonight."

The kettle clicks, signalling that it's boiled. "What do you dream about?" I ask as I pour the water.

She gives me a sad smile. "The Demon. It's always the same. It's just this figure of smoke in my dreams. Neji is there, and he's been shot more times than I can count. When he dies, Tenten appears next to me, cut to pieces, and she dies too. Lately you've been there too -" I falter for a second, and hope she doesn't notice "- but then the Demon stabs you in the middle. I have to watch you all die, and it's awful. I always wake up just as the Demon is coming to me."

I shudder. "That sounds awful," I say, adding the honey and some milk.

"It's worse that I can't do anything," she says, as I reach for the tablets under the sink. I feel like I can't breathe, and my fingers are quaking. "I hate watching the people I care about most die. I wish I could save you." The little bag with ten and a half tablets is in my hand, and I need to stop my hand from shaking long enough to crush them down here, where she can't see. "I wish I could protect you."

I stop breathing, raise my head to look at her. "Why would you want to protect me?" I ask her, my voice rasping in my throat.

She shoots me a confused look, that light smile on her lips. "Because you're precious to me, Gaara. I don't ever want to see you hurt."

I look back at the tablets, mind racing, breath coming out in short, sharp gasps.

Hinata values me.

I am precious to Hinata.

Hinata doesn't want to hurt me.

To Hinata, I am enough, just as I am.

And what is Hinata to me?

Hinata is precious to me too, I realise with startling clarity. I can't comprehend my world without her in it. I don't want to kill her, and I don't want to die. The thought that she won't wake again, that the fireworks in her moonlight eyes will never light up again, that she'll never smile at me again makes me want to throw up.

I can't do it. I can't hurt her. I can't kill her.

I blink, something like a smile forming on my mouth.

But I can protect her.

There is a war coming. I know it. I can protect her. I can help Neji and Tenten keep her safe. I know the Uchiha. I know how to plan for this. I know their attacks, their strengths and their weaknesses. I can protect her. I can keep her alive.

My hand stops shaking and I stand up, the bag of uncrushed pills in my fingers. "Sorry, they were hiding."

She smiles at me, and I take out the half pill and crush it, sprinkling it into her drink. Hinata comes around the bench, picking up the mug. "Thank you for listening, Gaara," she says, a smile in her voice, and I find I can finally smile back.

"Any time," I reply. She doesn't move, and nor do I. Something has changed. A shift in the dynamic.

"I'd better go to bed." The blush is back on her cheeks, and I don't think I've ever seen something so marvellous. "I'll see you in the morning." She lifts herself up onto her toes and presses the lightest of kisses against my lips, and it's all I can do to not respond. She leans back, her cheeks flaming.

"I'll see you then," I manage to breathe out, pretty sure my heart has stopped. She smiles and walks back to her bedroom, the cup of tea cradled in her hands.

She opens her door, turns back to look at me and gives me one last smile before she closes it.

I smile back and ignore the sinking in my heart.

The numbers above her head have changed. I've only bought Hinata five more weeks.

And then the war will begin.

If anyone happens to be curious, the time Hinata was supposed to die was 02:04:17.

I guess we could call the end of this chapter the end of arc one. I really hope you liked it, and I hope I was able to make the build up and the development realistic. Hopefully a new chapter will be up soon, though it'll be difficult with the lead up to Christmas. In case I don't update before then, Happy Holidays, everyone! I hope that, no matter what you do or don't celebrate, you have a wonderful time :)

Penny for your thoughts? Reviews are always welcome and wanted and appreciated. Please don't favourite without leaving a review.

All my love,

Alia xoxo