A few months passed and Emi was put through gruelling training after passing her genin exam with flying colours. She knew it wasn't going to be easy, but the jinchuriki was really pulling out the stops to get her to either quit or give up. She knew he was testing her, and she had some anger to burn off so she used training as her release. The day she had chosen Gaara as her sensei was the same day her step father had hit her and her mother, yelling at Emi for being a stupid freak for choosing a demon and trying to become a shinobi in the first place.

Emi's mother quivered in the corner, not even bothering to tell her husband it was her idea to shove Emi into the Academy. The man was a jonin, and therefore would snap Emi like a twig, no matter how good she thought she was. Her anger manifested until she couldn't even stand being in her room anymore. So she ran through the night, until Gaara had caught her. She probably shouldn't have snapped at him, she should have been scared of him but she was so angry. Then she had snarled at him and he simply turned away. After all the stories she heard about him, she was fully expecting to die in a fit of rage. Before she realised what she was doing, she was voicing her thoughts that everyone was wrong about him. She left before he could say anything else. Emi thought he still held a grudge about it.

"Faster, or I'll add another lap!" Gaara called from the sidelines. Emi's lungs heaved with effort as she pressed some more chakra down her legs to give her a boost. She had been running laps for most of the afternoon and she was exhausted but she wouldn't give up. She refused to give the other genin the satisfaction of seeing her break under Gaara's tutelage. She got enough crap from them whenever she was teamed up with a few for missions.

Despite the hostility, the mousy girl she had stopped from getting shoved had struck up a kind of acquaintance with her. Matsuri was her name. On missions, Emi gave her pointers on how to use her weapon, which she eventually chose to be a rope javelin also, and in turn she helped defend Emi against her genin team. Not that she needed it. Emi really couldn't care if the others thought she was a freak. Truly. Not one bit.

The only thing that bothered Emi was the constant whining Matsuri did about Gaara and how she regretted not choosing to be on his team. She would make a point to fluff her hair a little when she saw him approaching, or asking Emi stupid questions like what his favourite colour was. Each question was met with either silence or a snarl, effectively shutting the girl up.

Emi pushed herself past the finish line, slowing down to a jog so she didn't shock her screaming muscles. Sweat made her mask and clothing stick to her skin and her goggles fog a little but she didn't dare take them off. There was a reason she didn't want others to see her face.

"You're dismissed," Gaara called as she passed him. Emi gave him a stiff nod before slowing her pace, watching him walk away. It was always the same; he would show up for training sessions, push her almost to the edge and assess her before dismissing her and walking away. No compliments and false promises like so many other sensei's she had met. She appreciated it, made her want to work harder to hear a compliment, though she doubted she'd ever hear one.

Her breathing under control, Emi strode over to the training stumps and whipped out her rope javelin and chain sickle, placing the latter on a weathered table to the side. The chain sickle looked plain at first glance, but upon closer look you'd notice the blade wasn't actually metal but tempered obsidian. The volcanic rock was polished to a shine, the blade sharp and unyielding and Emi loved it. Her father had left his chain sickle and katana for her before he died, much to the disgust of her sexist step-father. Now that she was a genin, he didn't physically beat her so much, instead toying with her mother and forcing her to watch.

He was a sick bastard who got his kicks from threatening his own wife's life. And Emi was powerless to stop him. She already lost her father; she refused to lose her mother, no matter how much she had grown to resent their situation.

With expertise, Emi swung the rope javelin around her body in fast, circular motions, her body fluid and graceful. Like a lethal dance, Emi released the javelin with a quick thrust, the tip burying deep into the first stump before she tugged it free, whipping it around her body to plunge into the next stump in a rapid succession. Once she was satisfied her aim was still true, Emi wrapped the javelin back up and pocketed it, her feet taking her back to the chain sickle.

As always, she would stare at it and stroke the handle, lost in thoughts and memories before she shook them off and went to practice, her fingers avoiding the small initials carved into the blade hilt. She practiced until the stumps looked like nothing more than a pile of wood chips, completely unaware of a pair of azure eyes watching on in appreciation from the rooftops.

A few times a month, Gaara caught Emi running along the rooftops in the middle of the night in a foul mood. He would release her, but only after a second's hesitation. Should he approach her and ask her what was wrong as concern from a sensei to a student? Or should he approach her as a friend? He eventually settled on neither, leaving Emi to her own devices. One night she had followed him back to his roof where without a word, sat down next to him and gazed at the sky, her dark goggles still firmly in place. Eventually it had become a weekly ritual, neither saying a word and neither asking questions. The silence was enough and they both appreciated it, as lost in thought as they both were.

A full year had passed since Emi had become Gaara's student. No one else had been game enough to follow him after witnessing the paces he put Emi through. Nevertheless, his student had made leaps and bounds ahead of her peers, passing through Suna's chunin exam with flying colours as the Sand Siblings became jonin. His siblings had made constant remarks on her dedication to her training, choosing to stay until after dark to practice and perfect her weaponry and jutsu. Gaara was impressed also, but it didn't mean he went easy on her. If anything he pushed her harder, driving her to become a better kunoichi.

Her speed had improved tenfold, enough that she could almost keep up with his sand. When the Suna jonin council had assigned Gaara and his siblings a B rank mission, they had also assigned Emi to accompany them after seeing her progress was further along than her peers. So here they were, accompanying a convoy of nobles from the Land of Rivers towards Suna for a diplomatic marriage contract between a Lords daughter and a well renowned Suna shinobi.

Kankuro had taken up to flirting with a few of the maids in the convoy, their incessant giggling eventually making Temari snap, dragging Kankuro away by his ear.

Emi and Gaara remained alert and calm at the head of the convoy. They were approaching the border through the pre-desert brush when Emi whipped out a kunai and flung it into a rock outcropping a little ways ahead, signalling for the convoy to stop. Taking up defensive positions, the Suna nin ushered any maids and helping hands into the caravans as the nobles guard withdrew their weapons. The guards were no ninja, but better a few more helping hands than no back up at all.

Gaara watched Emi tense, curious as to what she saw or felt as he stretched out his own senses. He frowned when he sensed nothing, only to snap his eyes wide open as a clash of metal on metal sang out.

Emi had just managed to unsheathe her katana to block the incoming blow of a large chain sickle aimed for her head. The bladed point wrapped around the obsidian blade and pulled taught but Emi held firm, Gaara's eyes following the chain to the ninja holding it.

A shout from behind and the clash of metal met his ears. It seemed they were being surrounded. The nobles inside the caravan's shrieked in fear as a guard thumped into the door dead, blood gushing out of his neck to soak the ground below.

Releasing the sand from his gourd, Gaara engaged one of the nin rushing him, wrapping him in the small granules and squeezing, killing him with a muffled cry. His sand was spattered red as he turned on the nin Emi was facing, shocked to see her pulling her katana out of the nin's thick neck to sever his jugular, killing him. Without another word, Emi turned and threw a barrage of shuriken into the bushes behind her, flushing out two more nin. Gaara heard her curse as she held her katana steady, no doubt trying to spot flaws and weaknesses in their stances. Separating his sand, Gaara sent one half to wrap around one nin's torso and crush him as Emi engaged the other, giving him a slight wave of thanks before focusing on her opponent.

He glanced down along the convoy and spotted the torn and sliced trees where Temari had released her wind jutsu, Kankuro's puppets leaking blood with some unknown victim skewered inside. It seemed the only nin left was the one Emi was fighting. Motioning for his siblings to stay where they were and protect the rear of the convoy, Gaara rushed to his students aid in time to see her plunge her katana into the man's heart.

Her relief was short lived however when the man disappeared into a puff of smoke, her head whipping around to search for the real one. Gaara skid to a halt, his senses searching, searching… His eyes searched back towards the rear of the convoy in case the nin had snuck into the caravan.

Emi's pained grunt shocked him as he whipped around, Emi standing not three feet from him with a kunai plunged into her shoulder, the nin on the handle end sneering. His satisfaction didn't last long though as Gaara's sand rushed him and knocked him back, spearing his chest and slashing his throat open. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Emi sunk to her knees, gripping the kunai handle. Gaara knelt and put a hand on her shoulder, about to rip it free from her when she shook off his hand.

With shaking hands, Emi reached up and yanked the knife out, blood seeping into her black clothes. She didn't scream or cry as she tossed the kunai away. Gaara watched on in silence as her hand began to glow a soft green as she healed herself. She had taken up a basic medical ninjutsu course as part of her training, but she had studied hard and gotten a few pointers from Sakura of Konoha during her frequents visits to Suna's hospital.

Sakura had taught her well. In less than two minutes, the bleeding had stopped and the flesh was stitched back together. Gingerly, Emi stood, waving off Kankuro and Temari who had given the all clear. All members of the ambush party had been eliminated.

Rotating her shoulder, Emi walked with Gaara towards the nearest intact nin, kicking his body over to observe the headband.

"I don't recognise this symbol," Emi muttered. Gaara grunted and crossed his arms.

"Takumi Village, home of the Artisans. Their weapons are second to none."

Emi frowned beneath her coverings, rotating her stiff shoulder. "Didn't they try and abduct Matsuri a few months ago?"

"Yes."

Emi grunted and strode back towards the caravan to check on the nobles, leaving Gaara to his thoughts.

Emi knocked tentatively on the caravan door, the sound eliciting a few shrieks from inside.

"Milady? It's Emi of Suna. It's safe now. May I come in and check on you?"

"Y-y-yes," came a stuttered reply. Emi pulled the door open and stepped into the opulent caravan, a dowry gift from the noble family to the groom. Lady Yumi was older than Emi, maybe seventeen, and average on the eyes. Not to mention she was spoiled rotten and considered ninja lower than scullery maids even though she was marrying into a shinobi family.

"Is everyone okay?" Emi asked, looking between the shaking ladies-in-waiting to Yumi. Each gave a tentative nod, Yumi finally shaking off her fright to slide easily back into her haughty self.

"Who attacked us and why did it take so long for you to subdue them?" she asked, her tone condescending. Emi was supremely grateful that the bitch couldn't see the death glare she was sending her, else she would spontaneously combust into a pile of sickly scented perfume dust.

"Takumi nin, Milady. There were more of them than usual. If everyone is okay, I suggest you get comfortable again because we will be leaving in a few minutes."

Emi turned to leave, holding back a colourful curse when the noble's voice stopped her. "Wait…"

Emi turned to face Yumi who was now eying her as if she was something stuck to her shoe. "Remove your mask and eye protection. I wish to see your face."

Emi clenched her jaw and breathed deeply. Can't kill the noble… can't kill the noble…

"With all due respect, Lady Yumi I'm afraid I can't do that."

Yumi pouted like the spoiled brat she was. "Why not? Didn't I hire you to follow my orders? I said take off your mask. Now. That's an order."

Emi smirked beneath her mask and let a dark chuckle escape, making the women pale and shuffle away from her. "Your father hired Suna nin to protect the caravan, not to bow to his brattish daughter's whims. Beside…" Emi leant forward, making Yumi squeak. "You'd probably faint on the spot if you saw my true face."

Without another word, Emi leapt out of the caravan and slammed the door, unable to supress her grin and the skip in her step as an outraged shriek sounded from inside the caravan. She waltzed past the Sand Siblings who were eying her curiously.

Emi gave a small shrug and continued walking, slapping the behind of the horse that was pulling the caravan. "Come on. I want to go home."