It's taken absolutely forever, which I blame on recent game releases and my own need to read, but it's finally here. I already have an idea for most of the next chapter, so hopefully that one will be done far sooner than this one. Briefly, I considered making this chapter longer, but I figured you had all waited long enough.

Thanks goes to ncpfan for his help looking over the story.

Let's begin.

Only the moon peered down upon the swiftly moving shadow, a single pale eye beholding all the world. Tiles held firm with every step, chakra pumping through his body in one of the most basic, most essential Shinobi techniques in the world, one that didn't even have a proper name.

The use of chakra to enhance physical abilities was so necessary in their line of work that most Shinobi didn't even realize when they were doing it. It was this time-honored technique that had him leaping from roof to roof as if taking a midnight stroll down a garden path.

His purpose, however, was far from being so simple as a casual walk.

A final push of his legs and he was soaring through the air once more to land lightly upon an inhabited roof. He wasn't, as of yet, spared a single glance.

Furs wrapped around him ruffled by the nights breeze he, like the roof's initial inhabitant, spent a moment peering up at the glowing moon. He did not find it anywhere near as captivating.

"Gaara." His voice broke the silence of the night and drew the attention of the other moon-gazer.

Agitated, at first, Gaara spun to see who it was that would dare approach him. A single look had him knelt on the ground, praying to whatever other deities there may be that this flesh-bound god was not here to erase his existence.

"Naruto-Sama."

"Ah, good. You remember me." As if Gaara would be capable of forgetting the new star of his nightmares. Never before had someone terrified the holder of Shukaku as much as the young man who stood before him.

Never before had he desired so much to kill a single person.

Not that he was so foolish as to ever speak such to the being before him. He may be new to the ways of the Shinobi, as compared to the path of the Jinchuriki he had walked for so long, but he was not stupid. The last thing he wanted to do was let the one person who terrified man and Biju alike, the being who possessed the ability to erase his existence, that he one day planned to kill him.

Had someone in Suna said something similar to him he knew for a fact he would have crushed them where they stood, the entire desert turning its ferocity upon the one who would try to one day erase him. He had no doubt Naruto would do the same in this situation.

"Yes, Naruto-Sama."

"The third task is coming up soon, are you ready?" If Gaara was confused by the nature of the question- and he most certainly was- he did not show it.

"I am, Naruto-Sama."

"Good, good." Naruto nodded, almost absently, his entire posture so casual it had Gaara's skin crawling. Something was wrong here and these pleasantries seemed to belie the nature of this meeting. Almost as if sensing this, Naruto's entire tone changed. From spring breeze to a deceptive calm before a gale that would tear Gaara to shreds. "And the invasion afterwards, are you ready for that?"

And suddenly Gaara realized that he didn't know.

He hadn't spared a single thought to the planned invasion since meeting Naruto and it was only now that he realized how large an oversight it had been. This was Naruto-Sama's territory and being part of an invading force was going to bring his wrath down upon all those that dared to try.

Gaara would not allow himself to be part of that, would never permit them to drag them down with him.

Besides, had his father not told all his children that there was to be no invasion with Sound pulling out of the agreement? No doubt they had also learned that this territory was not Konoha's, but belonging to Naruto-Sama alone.

Gaara spared a quick, nervous glance at the moon that had Shukaku growing restless within his veins but knew that even his mother, for Shukaku would always be the one who raised and protected him despite what anyone else would try to claim, did not want to anger the god before him.

The real question, however, was 'could she help herself?'. It was not in the nature of the desert to remain still and harmless, it was one of the many things Shukaku had taught him over the years and, like that desert, Shukaku too desired to shift like sand in the wind and rage like a sandstorm over the horizon. And with the moon so close to full, this was only going to get worse as the last exam drew nearer.

"I- No, Naruto-Sama. I am not ready."

"Oh?" Something in those purple eyes seemed to gleam in the moonlight and Gaara had to make sure his head was turned down and to the side to avoid gazing into them. For who knew what secrets this being may be able to draw from him with but a simple gaze when those eyes seemed to see right through you?

"Mother grows restless with the moon, she needs blood- we need blood- and I cannot deny it long. I won't be able to control myself, not after fighting in the exam."

A sharp smirk found its way onto Naruto's lips. This was good, very good, and it worked perfectly for his purposes. He had been expecting to have to resort to threats, bribes, perhaps even attempt to employ reasoning- which didn't seem so odd until one remembered he was dealing with a murderous Jinchuriki who had spent his entire life defending himself from attacks and crushing all those in his way with brute force. He was not use to being persuaded or swayed, especially with logic. It would have to be gain, some boon or, in the case of a threat, his own life.- but this, this was more than he could have asked for.

"And if I could ensure your mother was someplace else- someplace safe- during the invasion?" Safety really wasn't a concern, but if the boy really did care for the Biju as he once had Mito it certainly wouldn't hurt to mention it.

Gaara's pale green eyes snapped to meet his own purple gaze, unable to help himself. Surprise, caution, hesitation, suspicion, hope, all boiling in those black-rimmed eyes and telling Naruto everything he needed to know. Gaara would do this in a heartbeat to keep both he and his mother safe. Of course, Naruto also recognized that the perceived threat wasn't those participating in the invasion, neither Suna nor Konoha, but rather himself.

He found that amusing.

"You can do that?" His question possessed almost a child-like innocence, tinted only with the slightest bits of doubt, and it was that doubt that Naruto targeted most fiercely.

"Do you think I cannot? Do you believe me to be incapable of such?" He paused only briefly. "Are you calling into question the integrity of my word?"

Gaara had never believed it possible to backpedal faster than Kankurō but, somehow, he managed.

"No, no, no! Of course not, Naruto-Sama! I simply didn't realize that was an option." From his kneeling position he fell prostrate onto the ground, sinking as far into it as physically possible without the use of chakra. So focused was he on ensuring he had not drawn the young man's ire he didn't even contemplate the fact that he had been told that his "mother" could be moved from him. Or, more specifically, that Naruto could steal her away.

"I see, that does not inspire faith, Gaara. Perhaps she's better left where she is, I'm sure you're responsible enough to keep the two of you out of trouble." Even with Gaara's face to the ground Naruto could see the panic settle in.

"P-please, Naruto-Sama, keep her safe. I would do anything for her." Naruto's grin just grew larger. Perfect. Not only was Gaara admitting an easily exploited weakness, he was practically handing over that weakness into Naruto's waiting hand. The Jinchuriki of Suna was as good as his already.

Even better, the son of the Kazekage was his. That could prove very helpful in the future.

"Hmm." Naruto pretended to contemplate his options, slowly circling the bearer of the raccoon. He had already come to a decision long before this meeting started, and Gaara seemed oblivious of the fact that he had been the one to bring it up originally. Too panicked, he did not piece together the fact that this had all been planned out as closely as it possibly could before the conversation had even taken place.

Naruto was quite fortunate that, as strong as he was, Gaara had never acted as a Shinobi until recently. Otherwise, this might not have gone quite so easily.

The fear, too, was rather handy.

With a sigh and slight shake of his head, Naruto "relented".

"Very well, Gaara, I suppose I can do you a favor this time and keep her out of trouble. I'll expect you to make sure I don't regret doing this for you."

"Of course not, Naruto-Sama!" He was actually relieved to hear this, poor boy. He had already known Gaara's home life must have been fucked up, but to make him a shinobi but leave him so naive? What did they expect him to do in a situation where violence actually wasn't the answer? Perhaps, they simply didn't believe he would ever find himself in that position. How fortunate.

"I'll hold you to that. Remove your shirt, I will begin ensuring her safety." Even as he spoke he was already removing his own furs, leaving the seals on his chest exposed. Some of those seals connected to the seal-scape Mito resided in, officially contained within the main seal that was present on his sister's skin, but the rest of it had crawled over his chest from the seal on his right arm. It was the second seal he proceeded to unravel the bandages from, revealing it to the world.

Within moments, it was already glowing faintly in eager anticipation.

Hesitating slightly at the sight of the seal that so terrified his mother, Gaara nonetheless obeyed and removed his top, his gourd of sand set softly behind him.

As soon as he was done, Naruto was circling once more, eyes glued to pale flesh. After a moment he spoke.

"This is probably the most disgusting thing I have ever seen." Even with his, admittedly, limited knowledge of seals, mostly gained from observing his own seal manipulated others, he could tell that the seal on the Ichibi's vessel was absolutely horrible. Starting over his sternum, chains of seals stretched over chest and abdomen to wrap behind and connect to another seal that took up the boy's entire back.

The first seal, obviously, held the Biju itself, but the back was evidently some geniuses' work to modify an already underpowered seal to do gods know what else. No wonder the boy turned out the way he did- with this kind of seal he almost pitied the Biju!

"Alright, change of plans." He finally declared. At Gaara's confused look, he elaborated. "I was going to move her into a new seal, but I don't want to do anything that involves this mess, so I'm going to work with what you already have. There's no way I'll ever allow such a horrendous piece of work to ever be tied to me, we'll have to fix this. " With a quick cut to his palms, he placed his bleeding hands flat against the seal on Gaara's back, letting his seal know exactly what he wanted done.

Blood flowed like ink from beneath the connected flesh to wrap around his left arm while the existing ink of Gaara's seal seemed to melt away, flowing to join with the blood. Bound with liquid life and using a connection already established, it was child's play for the masterpiece of the Yondaime to move the Ichibi from one container to the other but, before the first seal was touched, the glow ended.

Idly opening and closing his left hand as he examined the seal that spread from palm to left shoulder, Naruto tried valiantly not to sway where he stood. While well within the capabilities of his seal, it would seem transferring a Biju between two seals was just barely within his own, as his chakra reserves were nearly gone and the roof was looking a mite too comfortable at the moment.

Still, the realization that he had just stored Suna's Biju within his arm brought a victorious grin to his lips and made the exhaustion more than worth it. He spared a quick glance to Gaara, noting that his fellow redhead also seemed exhausted by the process. Good, the last thing he needed was to show weakness before someone so afraid of him. Gods above, he would have taken the opportunity in the former Jinchuriki's place.

"Is- is it done?" Questioned the Suna nin, examining a torso almost entirely bereft of the seals that had so long marked it.

"Your part, at least." Confirmed Naruto. "I'll have to make sure she settles in properly for her to be able to speak to you regularly, though."

Gaara's head snapped over to the former Uzumaki prince, suddenly realizing that he couldn't hear his mother's near-constant whispers nor her cries for blood that should be howling through his skull with the moon so bright above him.

"M-mother, she's- she's gone." Naruto couldn't quite decide if Gaara sounded more astounded or horrified by his mother's disappearance.

"For now, she'll be back as soon as I have a chance to sort things out within the seal itself." He pointed lazily towards the seal that covered his left arm where Gaara's 'Mother' was now held.

"How do you do that?" Naruto just shrugged.

"Not sure about the technicals, really. I fall asleep, wake up somewhere strange, and go from there." Gaara, of course, focused on the important part.

"So, you have to go to sleep to bring mother back?"

"Well, yeah, in a way." It was more complicated than that, and his mother would be staying in his arm indefinitely, but the idea was close enough.

Gaara gave a firm nod of understanding before stumbling over to him and attempting to drag him towards the edge of the roof. Too tired to start arguing, Naruto just raised a brow.

"Our hotel room is closer, we can stop there." The fact that he wanted to hear his mother as soon as possible was left unsaid but understood well enough. After suddenly having your head empty of company after a lifetime of hearing voices, Naruto couldn't exactly blame him. He, too, had found it strange not to hear Mito in his mind after her departure and he had only had her for few years.

The fact that he was entirely exhausted had absolutely nothing to do with his willingness to crash in the Suna rooms.

Temari opened bleary eyes to take in the room before her, the light of the moon creeping in the blinds to drive away just enough of the darkness to grant her sight without disrupting her sleep-

But something else was.

She knew there were two beds in this room, one claimed by her and the other by Gaara. Kankurō had been given- more like ordered by Suna's Jinchuriki to take- the couch in the main room of something far more like an apartment than a hotel. Not that she was complaining.

Moving her eyes to Gaara's bed, she noticed the first thing that was off. Gaara was actually in it. Not sleeping, thank the gods, but just sitting there. And while that wasn't entirely uncommon- as why else would he claim the bed if he had no intention at all to use it in any form?- the fact that he sat there, legs crossed, and simply watched her certainly was.

Pale green eyes seemed entirely focused on her while she had been sleeping, something she was certain had not happened before, despite having shared rooms like this before when on missions.

That explained why she woke, she thought, but it didn't tell her why it was happening.

Of course, then she noticed another thing was off. Her bed might be on the left side, pressed against the wall, but it certainly wasn't that narrow. She eyed the foot of space remaining of the bed critically, aware that while it couldn't possibly be the wall, there was no doubting that her back was pressed against something solid.

And it was breathing.

She blinked- once, twice, thrice- and tried to process that without fully tearing herself away from sleeps comforting embrace.

Embrace!

With one more blink she turned her eyes down to her abdomen where an arm she was pretty sure wasn't hers rested. And with the blankets bunched over her calves as they always seemed to be for her, she could quite clearly see the strange markings that covered moonlight-pale flesh.

Marking that seemed to glow faintly in a steady rhythm it took a moment to identify as a heartbeat she could feel steadily thumping against her back.

Even having discovered all of this, it took a moment for her sleep-addled brain to tie it all together.

Someone was in bed, with her- holding her!

And Gaara not only knew, but seemed completely okay with it!

For, as everyone knew, if Gaara had a problem with something it didn't exist for much longer.

Now, the biggest question- asides from why, exactly, there was someone in her bed holding her- was who was in her bed holding her?"

Pressed too tightly to them, she couldn't turn much and she was fairly confident in her assumption that if she squirmed too much she may wake them, which she would much rather avoid until she knew who she was dealing with, so she took in everything she had available to start with and decided to work from there.

First, obviously, was the arm with those strange markings that seemed oddly familiar. The glow too, she seemed to recall, but something was off. Was it too faint? She tried to imagine the entire arm alight with power and soon found herself standing on one of Konoha's little used roads.

Her brother- Kankurō- stared with a mix between fascination, confusion, and abject horror as her second brother collapsed prostrate onto the dusty ground, as if cowering before some great predator.

And there he was, standing proud in the harsh glare of the afternoon sun, his pale torso exposed for the world to see as it, like the moon, seemed to reflect a fraction of the sun's light. Seals stretched from a recently uncovered right arm, inky black tattoos that glowed despite the sun, as if challenging it for the right to bathe the world in light. Red hair, like flame, fell around the angled face of a noble and eyes of the purest amethyst were just as hard, cutting into your soul to judge your worth and find you wanting.

She stood before him, on this dusty street, and, likewise, he stood before her.

Naruto.

The man who called the Wolves upon a whim and had her Jinchuriki brother on his very best behavior to avoid his ire.

And that very same man was currently in her room, in her bed, with his arm wrapped around her.

Turning her head as much as she could, she only needed to see the red of his hair to confirm his identity.

As she settled back into her previous position, aware that Gaara had been watching curiously as she examined her situation, she decided it was much too early in the morning to deal with something like this, especially as Gaara seemed to have a hand in it. She would just have to deal with it later, preferably well after the sun had begun its ascent to the heavens.

With practice ease that came from doing the same thing almost every night, she casually kicked the blanket from over her feet to rest more properly over herself and, consequentially, her surprise sleeping partner. Wrapped up in both the blanket and his arm, she burrowed as best as she could into the strong warmth behind her.

Feeling strangely safe and comfortable, Temari quickly fell back into the realm of dreams, unaware of the two amethyst eyes that followed soon after.

He had felt the calling earlier, a whisper so close to sleep he had momentarily confused it in his exhaustion, but now he could hear the difference and as so as soon as Gaara's sister –Temari? Was that her name?- had settled down again- for he was not about to sleep on the floor or the couch and he wasn't going to share with Gaara- he let the calling wash over him and pull him into the seal.

There was still some work to be done.

A splash announced his arrival, the black boots he favored for their durability landing solidly within the water of his own section of the seal. Knowing what he didn't the first few times he visited this place, the world around him bent and shifted until he was standing upon familiar black marble.

In the distance he could see the gate that had come crashing down upon it and beyond it lay piles of rubble, the remains of the world he had built for Mito all those years ago. Oddly enough, nothing on his side of the seal seemed to have taken any damage from that falling gate, while even things far out of its reach were reduced to nothing on her side. Or, rather, on his sister's side.

Idly, he wondered if Naruko had met with Mito yet, and if she had been able to manipulate anything on her end as he had his. Then again, it was her side that he had manipulated in the past, now that he thought about it. Was this something exclusive to the Warden, or was it a simple matter of Naruko not contending with the changes he wished to make?

Perhaps it was something to inquire about should he actually find himself in the presence of her when speaking with Jiraiya.

Shaking his head at the destruction, he turned and walked until he was exactly halfway down his own walkway. With a mere thought, white marble rose and formed a pathway to the right, straight into the wall of the flooded basement which was his seal. Or, maybe, it was his mind, simply connecting the seal to him in a way he could understand.

He dismissed the thought; he had things to take care of at the moment.

With a wave of his hand, more for theatrics than any real need, the wall shimmered into an arch of white marble that matched the walkway he had created. Of course, saying it was just an arch didn't really do it justice. The space created was at least twenty feet wide at the base and curved upwards on each side in an ovular shape before curving to the sides again in a second, smaller, oval-like shape and coming to meet in a raised point directly above both.

Waist high, a band of blue covered the remaining wall on either end of the entryway and within the blue gold filament spread like ivy.

If he had the opportunity to completely create the seal, well, he was going to do it right. As Mito had pointed out years ago, the Biju may be prisoners here, but they were also beings that deserved respect for their might, if nothing else.

Finished with the entryway into the seal proper, he was greeted by his first look into the Ichibi's domain.

He really should have expected the sand.

For the first time in more years than they cared to count, they were dry.

But not just dry- they were warm.

It was such an odd feeling after so long, but not one that could be considered unpleasant. In fact, the dry, warm sand was enough to relax them completely. Even the moon, still casting its light down upon them despite never having been visible in this strange world, did nothing to stir the normal bloodlust nor the desire to shift and rage through this new desert.

Surely it must need a storm or, at the very least, a light breeze to shift the ocean of sand ever so slowly like waves caught in time. But despite this, and despite their nature, they felt no need to disrupt the peace of this place. It was as troubling as it was calming, for while they enjoyed the thought of simply enjoying what was, they could not figure out what it was they were supposed to be doing here.

And if there was nothing for it here, why had it been dragged away from the waters it had rested on for years?

Still, if there was nothing for them to do at the moment, no purpose for them to fulfill, there was no need for their full might. Without so much as a thought sand poured away from them, spreading away from the Ichibi over the existing desert and fading into nothingness as if it had always been present in this desert sea.

Shukaku took a moment to observe their hands, soft and delicate as opposed to the sandy claws they had been trapped as for so long, and once again marveled at their fortune to end up in such a place.

With only a pleased look at barefoot feet, toes scrunching into sand that had to have felt the harsh light of a sun not an hour before despite the fact that it had already hidden itself well behind distant mountains, they allowed themselves to collapse backwards to more fully enjoy the lingering heat and the dry, coarse sand they had been denied for so long.

The grains that had been present upon their initial sealing had been appreciated, but the feeling of wearing a shirt or a blanket were different. A shirt was necessary, the minimum, but a blanket was comforting and, more importantly, safe.

They felt safe here, with sea as far as they could see, even if they were no longer covered in it. From surrounded by sand that would only ever press against them, as cold and damp as their surroundings after years of sitting atop water they never could determine the depth of, to surrounded by a sea of warmth that let them breathe in the cooling night air.

It was absolutely glorious.

And then the world shifted.

From nothing it became, carving itself out of the air and into the shape of a great marble archway, a band of blue and gold circling either side, but there was no wall to support this entrance, no floor to rise from or roof to support. Despite that, they could quite clearly see through it, and there was no desert.

Dark water churned in a building that seemed to slowly decay before their eyes, cracks of sunlight filtering down from somewhere high above even when it was quite clearly night here in their new world. White marble, perfectly matching the archway, created a path from the sand back to a similar walkway of black marble that lead to- was that a cage?

An ancient gate of crude iron stretched massively from floor to ceiling in that strange room, and the most curious of thoughts hit them. Were they gazing into a room, or out from one? What was this place, where a world of night could witness the light of the sun, deep within the ground. Where mountains rose off in the distance but did not hit a ceiling that was so clearly shown.

Even with the warm sand soft beneath them, the feeling of comfort seemed to slip like tan grains between their fingers.

Cautiously they rose from the sand, peering still into this strange place before them, and with a start realized that standing upon that walkway was a figure, silent and still as the night air. They blinked their eyes a few times and turned briefly to the desert one more time. There was no sound. No wind, no insects, no small mammals, reptiles, or insects. There was nothing but the light of a missing moon and a sea of sand that reached for distant mountains.

No wonder they had felt so restless.

Turning quickly back to the figure, they were relieved it had yet to move. They just stood there, watching, waiting, observing their world as they had theirs.

And without warning, they started forward.

Heavy boots scuffed against the marble with every step, their gate strong and confident as they grew ever nearer the archway.

Hesitantly, they took their own steps closer to the white marble that gleamed brilliant in the faint moonlight. This form, they realized, was as liberating as it was vulnerable and they had a sudden longing to be cocooned within the sand once more.

Most worryingly, the sand around them did not heed their desires.

They were masters of the desert, once, but this desert was not theirs and they had no power here.

When the two figures met, separated by mere steps and a line where sand met stone, they took a moment to observe each other. The figure before them was shorter than they would have expected, obviously having not been as far away as it had seemed, but their skin seemed to reflect the light of the moon almost as well as the marble their feet rested upon.

Hair, like blood or sunset, two things the loved, hung loose around their head, and they had seen enough lords to see the features that separated those of noble blood from commoners. In that moment, it made as much sense as it didn't that they gazed upon the lord of this desert, but why, then, had they observed this place as if they had never seen it before?

Had they not?

A part of a kingdom, perhaps, they had never ventured to until now, a place they had no need to be until they had trespassed.

The person was shirtless, too, which made it even more odd that they would be lord here, and their skin was marked with tattoos along both arms and across their chest, something that didn't seem to fit with their idea of lords.

They knew, of course, that image wasn't everything, but there was enough doubt in this case to help raise their own confidence.

Before the might of the Southern Desert, what was one man, lord or, most likely, not?

Still, they weren't going to underestimate anyone or any part of this world they found themselves in. At the same time, they weren't going to provide the opportunity for this other to take control of the situation from the start. They wished, however, they had at least a moment to see what form they had taken for themselves, for it was unsettling to not know how they looked to the person before them.

Would they inspire trust or doubt? Amusement or fear? Disgust or delight?

The lack of knowledge put them at a distinct disadvantage, but they wouldn't let that stop them.

"Who approaches the Ichibi within the desert?"

The figure smiled lightly, right arm starting to glow faintly as the moon, which had previously been missing despite the presence of its light, grew into existence behind the archway.

"The tales have mentioned that you were quite full of yourself, but even you should know that this desert doesn't belong to you." His grin took on a more smirk-like quality. "I am the Warden of the Kyuubi and the Host of the Ichibi. Here I am King, Sultan, and Daimyo, and you would do well to remember it."

And suddenly they recognized exactly who stood before them.

Almost reflexively, they dropped to their knees in the sand, as if praying to be spared the wrath of god.

For even free of the madness that had so long plagued them, the Ichibi still knew exactly how dangerous this man was.

"Forgive me, Naruto-Sama."

A deep, amused chuckle ran through the air, somewhere between comforting and terrifying, and the desert responded with a slight breeze of distant rain and fragrant flowers.

Any doubt as to whose desert this was vanished in an instant.

And the Ichibi suddenly felt far too small.

See you all next chapter.