Note: I don't really have anything to say.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto nor do I own the Naruto story line.

Chapter Three:

Words Create No Cure

I would have never of guessed that he would save me after all he had tried to kill me once before, but still anyone was better than no one- right?

I believe so, but still he was also a glimpse into the damning future a head. I blame myself for what happened after all if I had been stronger, or faster, then perhaps- just maybe I could have saved them. Just maybe. But as I have said before through my own selfishness and self-trickery I failed them just like always.

They deserved a much better friend than myself and I wish I could have told them that. I wish more than ever I could see those determined eyes of my blonde companion and ultimately best friend. I wish I could see those empty, yet full of emotion pale sea foam green eyes of the man I eventually fell for- through all my efforts I might add. I even wish to see those raven locks and black eyes darker than Purgatory itself of the one who betrayed us but…

But wishing itself is useless and a waste of time. Wishes, through all their wanting, are just a way to try and escape the events that you or someone else has caused.

But as I was saying, the boy who stood in between the man- if you could call him that- who wanted to destroy my home and all those I held dear was no other than another monster whose former motive was the same.

Irony.

"I said move boy or you will die as well," the snake prince hissed stepping forward.

I looked up in see the crimson locks of my rescuer, was he seriously going to try to take on this villain, this vile creature not worth the air he breaths?

And was it for me that he took this action or was it remorse for his own threat upon my life that seemed like a lifetime ago?

My rescuer said nothing and didn't move back.

He showed no fear toward the tyrant and held nothing back in his- an adjective for his voice is almost impossible to find and if you heard him you would know what I mean- scratchy words, "I will warn you once more to leave here now."

Sabaku no Gaara.

He was indeed someone who you wouldn't want to face in battle unless you were Naruto. Though on the outside he remained calm and quiet almost invisible, when he is- I mean was- in battle he was a raging demon, literally. Still, I doubt if at that moment he could have fought Orochimaru and won, even by his insanity when it came to blood.

"Gaara," I started unsure of how to warn my former enemy, "Don't its too dangerous."

He glanced at me out of the corner of his ebony rimmed eye; releasing none of his thoughts to me, "Go home."

My next prepared statement was caught and hung in my throat, go home?

Had he told me, no commanded me to leave as if I was some kind of puppy that would do his bidding?

In my lack of maturity- which in truth I did lack plenty of that good common sense back then- I decided not to leave.

The snake charmer frowned his eyes locked onto the boy in front of me, "She will go no where."

Fear.

What a strange word.

For something that represents a lot of emotion that is defined as a powerful, unpleasant feeling of risk or danger, either real or imagined, it was an immensely small word. Strangely enough often the greatest words that represent the most powerful of the human emotions are small, simple words. Love, hate, life, and death- but simplicity is over rated and so is complexicity.

"Leave," he said once more ignoring his opponent.

I nodded my head; my more mature self-taking over, maybe retreating wasn't such a bad idea after all; he most certainly couldn't use me to help him not against a opponent that we faced. As I turned on my heals, several things happened all at once.

The first was that a massive amount of sand shot around me and the sand whisperer without a warning or signal, which lead me to conclude as I fell through the air- I had been knocked off balance by the sand- that the enemy had advanced.

The second event that took place that still even now leaves a light tint of pink on my cheeks was that a strong hand pulled me up by the back of my shirt and pulled me toward someone. This someone as you have probably have guessed was no other than Gaara of the Sand. He had pulled me into a tight, none affectionate embrace to help me avoid being cut by the swirling sands.

And the third event was that as soon as the sand had fallen back onto the ground in front us not only stood Orochimaru, but in the tree behind him, my friend and first crush.