Just a quick head's up, this chapter might be a little short, but it's a chapter nonetheless. Don't fret, the next chapters will be longer, I swear. And I apologise for always taking so long, but as you all should be well aware of . . . I suck. All right, read away!

Reminder: The Characters Yuki, Himeko, Ryo, and Momo were invented by none other than Nat-chan, a.k.a. imma dino hear my roar:MIA. I can take no credit. Just like how Masashi Kishimoto invented the characters and concept of both Naruto and Naruto: Shippuden.

Yuki's P.o.V.

My team and I just got out of the crosshairs of Training Grounds Forty-Four the day before the so-called Preliminary round was set into motion. There were a lot more people there than I thought there would be, in all honesty. And we are supposed to battle it out with the remaining ninja to get a spot on the final roster for the last part of the Exams. On top of that, we weren't given any medical attention either, so how are we expected to perform at our highest quality if the Exam proctors are setting us up for failure?

"Now, I know you all think we're setting you up to fail," Anko the Exam proctor said as if she were reading my mind. I threw casual glances over both of my shoulders to be certain my thoughts weren't in fact being spied on. "But this happens all the time in the field. Right when one feat is accomplished, BOOM! another team comes from behind you and attacks."

"Well this isn't actually the field," Ryo muttered under his breath. I elbowed him, telling him to mind himself. He flinched back as I knocked against his bruised ribs. "Itai!"

Just before we had obtained the Heaven scroll, we had gotten into a physical conflict with another team to get it. Though the other ninja were formidable, we were victorious. Regardless of the our feat, Ryo took a beating when a taijustu user got a lock on him. His bruises already started to turn purple by the time we got to the centre of the forest. I'm not exactly sure how well he'll hold up in this round, but he is resiliant.

"All right ladies and germs, please move on up to the landings above," Anko directed as she pointed nimble fingers outwards, "So we can get started!"

Anko, flanked by a few other judges and the Hokage, moved swiftly and to a place where they could watch us whilst staying out of harm's way. One other proctor stayed on the floor as the rest of us Genin moved to go up the stairs to meet with our senseis. Himeko led the way as we ascended the staircase to the right. I felt eyes on my back and when I paused to turn around, I met with none other than a pair of piercing teal eyes. I was half-expecting it, but nothing could really prepare me for the red-hot glare Gaara seemed to be giving me.

"Yuki." I hurried to Himeko's voice, leaving Gaara in the dust. Momo was waiting for us at the end of the landing. She was leaning against the wall, the umbrella that was usually strapped to her back was being used like a cane, propping her up. She had bags under her purple eyes and her side-ponytail was askew. I doubt she slept within the five days we were gone.

"You good, sensei?" Ryo asked, patting the woman's shoulder. Momo gave him a weary smile.

"Don't you worry about me, my little fighter," Momo's words hung in the air. We were like her children- especially myself. "Just focus on doing your best, all right? All of you."

"Hai," my teammates and I all said in unison. A shadow of pride passed over Momo's tired face, but as soon as it appeared, it vanished.

"Let's get started!" Anko announced. She paused as if she expected applause, but the moment passed. Everyone's heads moved to a screen on the wall behind a sculpture of large hands making the tora handsign. Uchiha Sasuke's name and another one I didn't recognise flashed on the screen in large, white letters. "Batter up!"

I saw no point in being attentive to this battle, so, as opposed to all the others who were leaning over the railing, trying to get a closer look of the action, I merely put my back to the wall and slid down until I was sitting. There was no point in wasting my precious time on someone who is now insignificant to me. My alliance with Ayame's team for the Exam was over, so I didn't really care about Sasuke's fight. Instead, my gaze swept over to the mysterious boy with bloody hair and gorgeous eyes. To the odd ninja - Sabaku no Garaa.

I didn't understand what was wrong with this one. Why I felt the way I did. It didn't make any sense. I've faught assassins without being nervous. I've handled terrorists with no fear. I've even seen Momo in the morning, for Kami's sake! Why did Gaara make me feel so different? Why did he make my heart pound and my palms sweat? He must be a master in genjutsu.

"Why are you staring at me?" Before I knew it, Gaara was sitting right next to me- a spot of vibrant red against the dull colour of the wall. My breath hitched in my throat and I faught for my composure. I didn't even realise I was staring at him.

"I wasn't," I lied. Poorly. I could smell the sand from his gourd; it was a strong dusty-dirt type scent. "Or, I didn't mean to at least." Gaara said nothing. His silence was more unsettling than his deep voice. I noticed my hands were shaking, so I folded them together, pressing my palms against one another so tightly, my knuckles turned even whiter than they usually were.

"Do you think this is a game?" He asked me, turning his face in my direction. He didn't look angry, in fact, it sounded like he was genuinely asking me. His eyes bored into mine, searching deep within my soul. I felt vulnerable. I'm never vulnerable.

"What is 'this'?" I asked, voice barely a whipser. I was aware that there were other things going on around us - the duels, the violence, the shouts and hoots and hollars - but the only thing that was in focus was him and me. Like we were the only ones in the big room that suddenly felt so small.

"My emotions," he said and I swear I saw him scoot closer to me. His ringed eyes were staring me down like a lion on top of its injured gazelle. It felt like my heart had stopped entirely. I couldn't breathe - it was almost as if something were physically squeezing the air out of my lungs.

"Your emotions?" I repeated. I shook my head. "Gaara, I don't think I know what you mean." There was a flicker of amusement in his intense teal eyes, but it was only there for a fraction of a second.

"Of course you don't, Yuki," he said. I assumed he would be frustrated, but it seemed as though I was only entertaining him. I bet that, under a different circumstance and setting, he would have been laughing at my confusion. But instead he just sat there, silently mocking me with those orbs I couldn't stop staring at. "You don't have any family - not really. Just your teammates and sensei. You don't have any other friends because you don't want them in your world only to leave. That or you don't want anyone in on your weaknesses - "

"Why are you doing this?" I asked feebly. I hadn't even realised my breathing got heavier until I spoke. I couldn't even my breaths, but I did manage to make it less noticable. "How are you doing this? Did you hack into the database and read my file or - "

"No, not at all." He shook his head, troubled.

We were whispering to each other and I could feel his hot breath on my skin whenever he spoke with that husky voice of his. There was applause, probably from Sasuke's victory and the anticipation of the next match, but it was all muffled in my ears as I realised Gaara and I had gotten even closer - our faces less than a foot apart. His face was serious, always serious, but he wasn't harsh or critical.

"Then how?" I pressed. Gaara wasn't just looking at me, but he was analysing me. Watching my face for something, but I didn't know what that something was. Fear? Disgust? Hatred, maybe?

"I've been following you for the past few days," he said finally. Another match had started by the time he answered me. "For the first day, I didn't know you were the one I was following. I was just following the feeling." I'm not following you. I'm following the feeling. That was what he said to me on the roof two days before. "But everywhere I go, everywhere the feeling is, you're there. Whenever I walk away from you, the feeling fades. When I see you, it flares back up. I can't explain it."

"What kind of feeling is it?" I asked slowly. Gaara inhaled and exhaled a long breath.

"It's warm. But a kind of . . . hunger. Thirst. It's torturing, but addicting at the same time," he explained. I didn't know what to think, much less what to say. "I think that you are the cause of the feeling. But I don't know why."

"Gaara," I said breathlessly, shaking my head, "that's ridiculous. I don't know you."

"But I know you," he recanted fiercely. His eyes were staring me down again. "Everything I said about you is true. I know all of those things because I've been watching the way you act, they way you interact with others, the way you carry yourself. It's . . . It's just like me."

Lingering in the air like a poisonous gas, Gaara's words left me speechless. It was crazy, of course, the idea that I was the cause of this feeling. What could be the cause of this sudden hot thirst he describes? Hot flashes, perhaps, which would be accounted for living in the Sand Village. But he's so young . . .

"Yuki," he called me out of my daze. I focused my gaze on him again.

"Yes?"

"Your match is up."