'This can be a chance for me to prove I can actually do something cool. They'll have to see I can do stuff on my own and I'm not the monster everyone says I am. To prove myself for once...' It was Gaara's turn to throw his kunai. Outside the Academy's high, protective sand walls, almost half of the nineteen students had already completed their section of the training, and Hinata would be right after Gaara. As Gaara was mentally preparing himself to show the better of him, Hinata only stood behind with her head down and arms crossed, shy and scared. 'I just hope I don't embarrass myself. I want to make friends and become close, like I am with my sister. Yes, I want to have great relationships like the one I have with Matsuri!' This had always been Hinata's greatest fear: no friends. And her greatest desire: best friends, friends who will support her and help her anytime and she would provide the same devoted attention to them. Oh a dream she wished was reality.
Gaara concentrated, this was his chance. He took a breath, and thought; took a breath, and meditated; then in one spin, threw his kunai in the process. It hit square on the target.
The instructor's eyes widened in some-what amazement. He did not know what to say to the "mini-monster." It was indeed tremendous, but should he have expected that from the demon? Should he praise the one everyone hated? No, instead he thought it could be an even better way to shoo out the unwanted student.
"Nothing less of what I expected from you, demon. Now let the next person go and make sure not to hit anyone square in the heart like you hit that board." He was almost yelling at the little boy. And he felt no pity for making him run away crying.
Hinata ran after him. "You girl, stay back here! Don't go hanging near that boy. He really will kill you. He shows no mercy once he is in rage like now."
But she didn't listen to him.
"You're missing your place in line!"
She then realized she was also disobeying her mother.
"You're getting an F for this practice!"
You should avoid him at all costs.
Instead, she shouted back at the director, "You're the one who put him in that 'rage,' you no-fair ninja!" And she ran after Gaara, wondering if she should regret her words to her new instructor.
'She will soon learn in time about the Shukaku's deadly powers. It won't be my fault though because I warned her,' and the careless instructor left Hinata to her chase.
It did not take her long to find the weeping student because his cries of emotional pain were far greater than anyone else's in the entire village. He was kneeling next to a small line of bushes with flowers on them, his tears watering the smooth, red petals of the flower his mom once cherished, or so Yashamaru had once told him.
She stopped running when she saw him hiding behind part of a wooden fence. She slowly tried to catch her breath without her clearly being seen as out of breath. A minute passed; the wind was gently blowing the sand on the ground, forming beautiful, elegant swirls in the air. No one was around, not a single sound was heard beside the careful wind. She took a breath, then slowly walked up behind him and reached out her hand in comfort.
His sand threw itself at the approaching hand and he whirled around in anger and fear. 'Who is trying to attack me now? I can't stand it anymore! Why can't I just die so easily like everyone wants me to!' But when he turned to face his "attacker," he was on his knees again crying.
"I didn't mean to hurt anyone! I promise!" He looked like he was in agony. His hands were grabbing at his short red hair while tears only continued to pour down from his teal eyes, shut tight in hopes he wouldn't see him hurt another. A drop of blood from his scar mixed with his watery tears. "I really am the devil like everyone says!" 'I should at least be honest to the first person who tried to befriend me, but I'll just end up putting her in danger. No, I couldn't live with myself if I killed another nice person.'
"No no, you're not! Don't say that about yourself." Her tone was sweet, calming, comforting, almost like when he thought Yashimaru had been telling him the antidote for a hurting heart. He felt a warm finger wipe across his cheek and he opened to see the girl wiping that trace of blood from his face. He saw her face: pale white skin surrounding her pearly, lavender eyes. Her eyes... full of pity instead of hate, sorrow instead of revenge, hope instead of shame. There was... something about this girl.
"Then why, why does everyone else stare at me with cold eyes? Why do they all avoid me like stinking, rotting trash?"
"Because they only see what they've heard about. They don't give any chance to really learn about you because you're not Shukaku, you're Gaara, a poor innocent boy who needs a friend." Then she scooted closer and wrapped her arms around him: a warm, comforting, friendly hug that he had never felt before.