Separate from the Tutor drabbles.

TITLE: Handle Myself

GENRE: Drama, Romance, (Humor)

RATING: T

Mei Terumi had been in gangs since the day her memory began, twenty years ago. Her family was dead by then—the only thing she knew was the art of getting by with whatever she had. Whether it be stealing, breaking and entering, or killing to get what she wanted, Mei had a strong will and an even stronger stomach.

She was known for her flaming knives that never missed. Working as a hit man—hit woman—was a chance she didn't expect to come her way. After taking down two of the bodyguards of the politician known affectionately as the Kazekage, just because they were in her way at a convenience store, he took great interest in her.

"Why is no one running to stop you?" he asked as she stepped over one body uncaringly. There were two others in the store—the cashier and someone who mopped the floors. Mei turned around to eye the employee for a brief moment before returning the Kazekage's gaze.

"Why did you just stand there?" she shot back with a sweet smile. "Why are you not calling the police right now?"

He chuckled, calmly shoving his hands into his suit pockets. "You intrigue me."

"This town is under my control," she told him, jerking her chin towards the store employees and holding her charming smile in place. To them, it was probably menacing, and they carefully ducked their heads. "They know me, and they're afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid," the Kazekage said smoothly.

Mei narrowed her eyes at him, the smile turning into an arrogant smirk. In her hand, she turned a knife over, then flipped it up in the air, catching it sideways and closing one eye. She held her arm out, imaging that the knife was pressed against his throat. The Kazekage stood a little more upright, letting Mei know that she'd effectively intimidated him, so she softened her smile and lowered the knife, slipping it into her belt.

"Don't lie to me, sir," she told him, spinning around to grab the drink she'd come to the store for. Mei examined the label for a moment before nodding to herself and heading towards the door.

"You're not paying for that?"

Halting, Mei let out a quiet giggle. "What's with you?" she demanded, facing him with her arms crossed and shifting her weight onto her right leg. "You've seen what I can do. Run away screaming already. This is boring."

"Yes, I've seen what you can do," he acknowledge with a nod, stepping over his comrade just as she had and walking a little closer to her. The Kazekage hesitantly looked over at the two employees who pretended they were listening. He started for the door, motioning for Mei to follow, and she rolled her eyes. She didn't go after him because she cared what he had to say; she was just going the same way.

"That's exactly why I want you to come with me," the Kazekage said under his breath once the door shut behind them. Mei simply raised an eyebrow in question, unscrewing her Sprite and taking a gulp. "An assassination job."

The laugh the burst from Mei surprised even her and she choked on her drink. "What?" she gasped, coughing the liquids from her windpipe. "I'm not that sort of person, Kazekage, sir. I don't do clean kills, I outright murder for no reason at all."

"I've made six attempts on this person's life already. None have succeeded with clean methods. You'll be perfect for this job. Now get in." The Kazekage had pressed a button that lifted the doors of a sleek black sports car. She stared at it, shaking her head in awe, but what did she have to lose? Mei got in the car.

She was to pose as a maid in order to enter his room. This was the only person the target named Gaara allowed into his room. Mei had opposed the costume—French maid, what bullshit—but the Kazekage had insisted that it was essential to her mission. That, and it was quite becoming of her. Mei hadn't appreciated this comment and smiled cheerfully as she threatened to kill him once she was finished with the target.

The room was on the third floor of their luxurious home. It was expected, as the Kazekage clearly flaunted his wealth by the way he dressed and drove. Mei took the elevator up with a cart of food and drinks. She adjusted her uniform one last time before taking a breath and stepping out of the elevator. Carting squeaky slightly, Mei took the chance to lift the skirt a little to check that her knives were still tied to her thigh. The shuffling of her dress made too much noise.

Apart from the other rooms, Gaara's door was colored deep red, contrasting with the white cleanliness of the rest of the house. She supposed that it would match the blood she would spill in that room. On one hand, she wondered why he would house a guest that he wanted dead, but then politics had never made much sense to her. Mei rapped her knuckles on the door three times, earning a speedy response that nearly made her jump.

Out of the doorway peeked a head with brick-red hair, almost the same color as the door, and he hid behind the door when he opened it further. Mei's heart had never pounded like this when she was about to kill someone. Of course, she'd also never worn a French maid outfit to kill someone. That must be it.

Gaara shut the red door once she'd wheeled the cart in all the way and only then did Mei turned around.

Jade green eyes without pupils met her gaze no more than a couple inches from her face. Mei held in a gasp of shock, averting her own light green eyes as she plastered a fake, hopefully maid-like smile on her face.

"I've brought your dinner," Mei explained with a sweet tone that she thought a maid would use. Trying to seem effortless, she looked up to the right, noticing markings on his forehead that, oddly enough, read "love," and was about to conversationally ask about it when Gaara spoke.

"You are not a maid," he said, not an ounce of emotion in his voice.

Thinking quickly, the hand that brushed her knives swiftly pulled one out and flicked the flint on its blade with her diamond nail, causing its gasoline-slicked blade to light up with fire. She lunged forward, aiming for his stomach. Gaara unexpectedly and fearlessly gripped the blade with a lightning-quick motion. His hand shook for a second before he yanked it from her grip, tossing it aside just in time to catch another knife that came at his throat from the other direction.

Frustrated, Mei pulled her last knife and held it, just as she held his stare with a furious glower.

"It's a pity that I have to kill you," she said, calming herself enough to lose the glare and allow a soft smile to grace her features. She was confident. There was no way he could ruin this for her and there was no reason for her to get worked up or frustrated.

"You're so good-looking, too," Mei added, practically purring.

"My father sent you, didn't he?" Gaara asked evenly.

Her eyes widened the slightest bit, the hand that clenched the knife near his throat loosening. Gaara pushed her hand down roughly enough that her grip no longer held the knife and it clattered to the ground. Mei had never been informed of her target's relation to the Kazekage—she'd only assumed that he was some other politician sort. But now, seeing his face clearly, she could tell that he was young, and he was the son of the man who'd hired her.

Mei clenched her teeth together hard, trying not to give in to emotion. Her diamond thumbnail flicked across the final knife and she raised it, forcing her tremors to go away. Gaara's darker green eyes watched her face, not the knife, as if he was sure she wouldn't go through with it.

And she didn't.

Dropping the knife, Mei brought her foot down on it to put out the flame. He just blinked as if nothing was unusual about this situation. The only thing that told her of his previous fright was the way he sagged a little when his back touched the door. Gaara continued to say nothing, driving Mei to the point where the tension was unbearable and she couldn't take the silence.

"I'm not cut out to be an assassin," she told him angrily, her eyebrows furrowing together. She didn't know what followed this, how she was supposed to face the person she had just tried to kill and then the person who'd hired her.

"Most of the time, I am the one bringing the dead bodies back to my father," Gaara informed her emotionlessly, bending down to pick up one of her knives. Mei's throat constricted in fear, something she had been a stranger to for the last two decades of her life. It was those eyes that held outright emptiness, the cold voice that talked as if everything horrible was matter-of-fact and couldn't be changed, and over everything else, the loneliness.

He brought himself directly in front of her, pushing Mei back with pure intimidation until her lower back was touching the cart. Gaara held the knife against her cheek, still warm from the flames that had only just gone out. Momentarily, he looked at the knife, and then back at her.

"That was a nice trick, though," he complimented. It didn't feel very genuine, more like something he noticed about her that was different from the other killers. She shut her eyes, feeling her own knife be dragged along her jaw, then down her neck, and resting over her heart. That precision wasn't one of someone who didn't know how to fight. He put pressure on the knife, making her clench her teeth harder, so hard until it gave her a headache, but even as her skin was punctured, she didn't let out a single sound.

The pressure stopped.

Mei's eyes snapped open, self-preservation instincts kicking in as she kneed him in the groin, causing him to fall back just enough for her to smack the knife from his hand. In his moment of weakness, she dropped down and ran her leg underneath his.

Gaara hit the ground hard, exhaling sharply. He glared at her, striking her across the ribs with a well-placed kick. The air left Mei's lungs in a gasp, but even more of a shock was Gaara firmly holding one of her shoulders to the ground, leaving him enough room and time to straddle her. His other hand gripped her free shoulder, locking her down.

Though he was younger, she could feel his manly strength. It was the sort of thing that all men possessed, whether they were muscular or not. Mei struggled against his hold, trying to buck him off, but Gaara's face showed no signs of him giving up or even being fazed. His grip never loosened and she felt ridiculous in this position. Eventually, Mei was the one who gave up, breathing hard and glowering up at Gaara's impassive face.

God, that pissed her off.

"You win," she said, teeth bared in a grin. Mei laughed humorlessly, going limp. "Now you're gonna take my dead body to your father, huh?"

"You stopped when I said he was my father," he said. "You didn't know who you were killing."

Mei shrugged in an attempt to steer the conversation away from her fatal mistake. "So?"

"You stopped trying after that," Gaara went on. She was confused about what he was getting at and his expression left no room for guessing. He showed only subtle signs of tiredness and relief in the way his eyelids had lowered slightly, his shoulders drooping a little. Mei bit her lip. "I was not planning on killing you, especially with your own weapon. That would be humiliating."

His weight came off her. Gaara stood up, smoothing his clothes out as Mei scuttled backwards to a corner of his room. Even though he seemed to have ended his attack, her heart wouldn't stop pounding. The red-haired boy's eyes flickered over her and without returning back to her face, he started to gather the three knives, disposing of them in his trash can. After examining his cut palm, he turned back to Mei.

"…what now?" she wondered aloud, her voice hoarse.

Holding a hand to her chest, Mei took a minute to realize what Gaara meant by sweeping his hand towards his bed. At first she was too bewildered to make a move, and then she slowly got up, walking cautiously over to the bed and sitting at the very edge. Mei cast him a suspicious look, but Gaara shook his head.

"Shouldn't I be the one scared?"

"I'm shaken up, okay?" Mei snapped, turning her body towards him. The boy sat on the corner of the bed, back leaning up against a red wall that matched the red of his door, covers, and curtains. "That man ordered me to kill his son."

Gaara watched her curiously. "That never mattered to anyone else." He paused in thought. "They were not women, however."

"If you hold men above women one more time, I'll kill you," she informed him with a smile.

He raised an eyebrow slightly. "No, you won't."

"Don't underestimate me," Mei sniffed, locking her hands together in a nervous sort of way. She shook her head after a couple moments. "No, I didn't mean that. You… I just… I've killed so many people without thinking twice. But you, you've been almost killed so many times without anyone thinking twice."

"That should not matter to someone like you."

"Like me?" she scoffed. "I'm a street gang type of girl. I don't kill for money. I kill to survive. Or… if I'm pissed."

"Are you?"

"I'm worried for you." The words slipped from her mouth before she could realize what she was saying, and Mei's eyes got bigger when she heard her own statement. She quickly glanced at Gaara who, amazingly, showed a little bit of surprise himself. It disappeared instantly.

"I can take care of myself," Gaara told her in a harsher tone than he'd used so far. He was abruptly standing, rounding the bed to grab Mei's chin roughly and dragging her into a standing position. Mei looked into his dark eyes—not dark in color, but in expression. She'd made him angry by insulting his ability to be self-reliant.

"I can take care of you," he spat, wrenching her forward for a kiss that was so hard it bruised her lips. Mei fought at first, trying to remove his hand from holding her in place, but the harder she fought, the rougher he was, so she gave up. Only then did the kiss lighten into something with more feeling, not just fury and vengeance. His pent-up emotions were pouring into her with this one, bittersweet kiss. Gaara pulled away once to breathe, and then he covering her mouth with his again, sucking on her bottom lip and eliciting an unexpected moan from the auburn-haired woman.

The sound made both of them freeze. Gaara parted from her, breathing a little faster from the boldness of his actions.

"H-How old are you?" Mei questioned softly, her voice shaking a little.

"Eighteen," Gaara answered, his voice calm and collected. He showed no other signs of feeling flustered as she did, annoying Mei. She narrowed her eyes.

"I was ten by the time you were born."

"Does that matter?" he retorted, stepping forward and reaching an arm around to grab the hair at the back of her head. Mei cringed, her eyes watering a little. This made Gaara smirk, confidence beyond his years flooding his expression, the first unsheltered emotion she'd seen from him yet. He pressed another bruising kiss on Mei, and this time she didn't fight at all.

Gaara pulled away, apparently satisfied by the unhappy look on Mei's face. Where had a boy his age learned to kiss like that? She had just tried to kill him, and yet she was inexplicably drawn to him in a million ways.

"I have proven that I can take care of myself by easily dominating a supposedly ruthless killer," murmured Gaara, leaning in close to her ear. Goose bumps rose on her skin. His voice had sent a shiver down her spine, leaving her wanting more, and she tilted her head down to latch onto his neck with her teeth. He sucked in a sharp breath.

"What are you—?"

She let go for a quick second, making sure that her hold was strong, and whispered, "My name is Mei. And I refuse to be dominated by a man." With that, she whipped around with such speed that the momentum threw Gaara onto the bed.

A knock at the door caused both of their hearts to leap in fear.

"Gaara?" the Kazekage's voice called. "I'm coming in!"

Mei's quick reflexes swiftly placed herself in the space behind the door just a millisecond before it opened.

"Oh," the older man noted with clear disappointment, and they both knew why. He covered it up by saying, "I can't believe you're sleeping at this time of day. Get working on your French. Your teacher said you suck at it."

"I am sure she did not say it so delicately," Gaara responded, almost making Mei laugh with the sarcasm that didn't work quite as well with his monotone. She held a hand tightly over her mouth until the door slammed closed and the Kazekage stormed away, probably too speechless from his son's response to continue the argument as well as furious that he was not dead.

The two of them met each other's gaze and after a minute, Mei sighed.

"It's probably best that I leave for today," she admitted grudgingly.

"Another day," Gaara started, searching for the next words, "…we will continue this?"

"Sure, as long as you're not dead by then."

"I can handle myself."

Mei chuckled. "I know."