Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
She was magnificent.
Even shukaku, albeit barely, agreed with him.
The fury in her gaze, the utter loathing, the way she ran towards the door even though she probably knew what they would do to her once they caught her made something in his chest warm.
He wanted that.
He wanted the power to spit in people's faces—his father's face—and run even though he knew the consequences.
He wanted that fire.
"Find her. Hunt her down." His father seethes, his face a mask of endless fury as he nearly bellows at his ANBU. "When you find her, put her in the cell again. I'll call in Chiyo. It seems she needs to test out some new poisons again."
Gaara wanted the fire.
"No."
The word stops the entire office in its tracks.
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