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• Suna's Body Art	By : huntress Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1125 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
  Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

• Chapter List
  • 1-Suna's Body Art
  • 2-Chapter 2
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• 
  
  

  Title: Suna’s Body Art

  Author: Ureko
  
  Pairings: Gaara/Hinata, Sasuke/Naruto (Hints/mentions)
  
  Warnings: Het, lemon, slight OOC, AU, Sequel

  Summary: Hinata was always viewed as the “plan Jane”, never able
  to truly be herself.  But her world is about to be turned upside down thanks to
  her new roommate and friends. 

  Disclaimer: Naruto and characters are not mine.  I
  don’t own anything but the idea for this story

   

  ~*~
  
  
  
  

   

  
  
  

   

  
  
  

  Hinata slouched heavily against the fitting room wall, glad
  for the brief moment of peace and silence.  She closed her eyes in silent
  thanks to whom-ever came up with the idea of private change rooms.

   

   

  They had been at it for hours.  Although, to Hinata, it felt
  more like a century and a day.  She honestly couldn’t think of a better way to
  torture someone then to stick them with Ino for an afternoon of endless
  shopping.

   

   

  It had started out fine enough.  They did a little window
  shopping for the first fifteen minutes or so.  Laughed and joked about some of
  the insane and hideous outfits that some people considered stylish.

   

   

  The first real store that Ino wanted to visit turned out to
  a lingerie store.  And as much as Naruto had prided himself in being the
  never-back-down-to-any-and-all-challenges type of guy, he had no problem
  admitting defeat and backing out like a chicken.  Of course, Tenten wasn’t too
  far behind him, and plopped down beside him on the wooden bench outside the
  store.

   

   

  And Sakura had seemed to disappeared somewhere along the
  way.

   

   

  So Hinata had been left to fend for herself in a sort of
  sense as Ino dragged her into the store of lacy silks and velvets and right
  straight back to the far corner of the store, where the two connecting walls
  were covered from floor to ceiling in different shapes and sizes of lacy
  undergarments of various vibrant colors.

   

   

  Of course, the blond girl only gave Hinata a brief moment to
  stare in wonderment before whisking her off to the dressing rooms with a
  matching set of pecan-blue and white lace.  She gave Hinata the choice to try
  on either the matching thong or booty-panties that Hinata was fairly sure would
  only cover half of what it was suppose to in the backend.  Which was confirmed
  ten minutes later – the idea of a string running up somewhere she was sure it
  didn’t belong, really didn’t sound too appealing to the shy girl – when she
  chose the more descent looking of the two.

   

   

  Ino had only popped in once to check to see if sizes were
  okay before vanishing again back into the store.  Her hands filled with at
  least six different colorful pairs, both thongs and booty-panties to match each
  bra.

   

   

  Hinata was, at first, a little relieved that she wasn’t
  going to be asked to try on any more pairs and began redressing in, in her
  mind, proper undergarments.  Only to discover her original bra and panties missing.

   

   

  That’s right.  Missing.  Vanished.  Not there.  Nonexistent.

   

   

  And Hinata did the one thing that came naturally to mind.

   

   

  She screamed.  Loudly.

   

   

  Ino had rushed to her side instantly, trying to help calm
  Hinata down enough to tell her what was the matter.  To which, after all was
  explained, had Ino practically rolling on the floor laughing.  Once she had her
  fill, she had calmly explained to Hinata that she had disposed of the thin
  diaper-like underwear and ratty bra and to just wear the new pair but to keep
  the tags for the cashier.

   

   

  By the time they had left, Hinata had twelve new lingerie
  sets – complete with bra and two different bottoms for each – seven new
  nightgowns, and a new robe with matching slippers, all wrapped in soft-pink
  tissue paper and had spent well into the three digits boarder lining into four.

   

   

  And so, they had continued on.  Sakura reappearing a short
  while later with a bag full of new make-up and hair products.  They had stopped
  at a few shoes stores, picking up at least eight different pairs that could be
  mixed and matched for almost any outfit.  They got a few different things from
  a variety of different shops – shirts, jean, cargos, tank-tops, sweat shirts –
  and soon, all five of them had at least two bags or more.

   

   

  Now, three hours, twenty-seven shopping bags and a lot of
  receipts later, Hinata found herself seeking sanctuary in a department store
  fitting room for a brief moment of silence and peace.

   

  She knew it wouldn’t last long.  Ino had shoved two
  different pairs of skirts into Hinata’s hands when she noticed Hinata heading
  off in that general direction.  In which, Hinata knew that she would demand to
  see them.

   

   

  “Hey Hinata?”  A knock rapped on the other side of the
  changing room door.  Ino’s voice slightly muffled threw the thick wood.  “You
  going to come out and show us or not?”

   

   

  “J-just a m-minute.”  Hinata closed her eyes for a few
  seconds to mourn the lost of her moment of peace.

   

   

  She quickly changed into the first skirt.  Her face going
  red when she noticed how much, or how little, the garment covered.  The
  black material was smooth to the touch and hugged her legs, the bottom just
  barely covering her butt.

   

   

  Hinata ran her hand down the back as she opened the door. 
  She peeked her head out and saw Ino and the others waiting outside to see the
  results.

   

   

  Tenten saw her first, brown eyes smiling.  “Well?”

   

   

  Hinata flushed scarlet again when the other’s eyes landed on
  her.  “I’m not buying it!”

   

   

  “Oh.  It can’t be that bad.”  Ino grabbed Hinata by the
  arm.  She pulled the younger girl out from behind the door to get a good look. 
  Her blue eyes studied every detail, turning Hinata this way and that to get a
  good look at all angles.

   

   

  Hinata tried hard not to shake too visibly in front of her
  friends and was finding it very challenging.  She began playing with the sleeves
  of her shirt, glad for something to occupy her mind for a moment, and relieved
  that it show considerably less skin than the tank-top she had been originally
  wearing, despite how comfortable the old one was.

   

   

  She had got it at the last store they visited.  The design
  was simple enough; looking like a t-shirt and tank-top mix.  Two straps running
  up over the shoulders while another two wrapped around the biceps, leaving the
  upper part of the arm visible.  Two sleeves were attached by a crisscross pattern
  that left the elbow and inside of the arm bare.  She had found three of them. 
  All of them were a solid black while the sleeves were striped with a different
  color.

   

   

  Hinata had been trying them on when Ino pulled the vanishing
  trick again.  This time, her tank-top being the victim.  She didn’t really mind
  though.  She liked her new shirts and was glad of an excuse to wear one right
  away.  She picked the one with the light blue and black stripes on the sleeves,
  noticing for the first time the blue little kitty-skull on the front. 
  Strangely matching the white one on her pant leg.

   

   

  Finally, after a few minutes of being studied, Hinata sighed
  in relief when Ino shook her head.  She relaxed a little, the blush on her face
  reducing considerably to a light dusting across her cheeks.

   

   

  “It’s about three inches too short.”  The blond stepped back
  to get a frontal view, closing one eye and cocking her head to the side.  “If
  you drop something and pick it up, you’ll be giving everyone behind you a free
  show.”

   

   

  The blush made a full-force recovery and Hinata dashed back
  into the change room.  She could hear her friend laugh on the other side of the
  door and couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped her.

   

   

  The second skirt was a lot better.  The fabric was a deep
  blue and was loose and waved out at the bottom.  Hinata wasn’t too happy about
  it only coming to her thighs but ended up agreeing with Ino about how it
  looked.  Despite the short length, Hinata ended up buying it and three others –
  one of the same length and two of other lengths.

   

   

  Lunch was next on the agenda.  They stopped at an outdoor
  food court to enjoy the sun and fresh air.  They talked and laughed for the
  better part of an hour and by the time they were ready to continue, Hinata felt
  as if her spirits had been lift.

   

   

  They didn’t really do much shopping after lunch.  It seemed
  that Hinata had already gathered the majority of stuff that Ino and Sakura both
  deemed important and necessary.  They did stop occasionally when one of them
  spotted something of interest but other than that they just walked and window
  shopped.

   

   

  Hinata was seriously thinking about calling it a day.  She
  had more than enough clothes now, as well as new CDs, hair products and shoes. 
  She had even enjoyed herself.  Sure Ino could easily be described as a
  shop-oholic, but she really knew her stuff.

   

   

  Naruto’s voice broke the silence.  “Hey, would you guys mind
  if we stopped here for a second?”

   

   

  Hinata stopped and turned to see Naruto pointing to a shop
  she just passed.  It didn’t really have anything eye catching from the
  outside.  It looked like your average looking building, though small compared
  to those around it.  There were some etchings and fancy designs on the tinted
  window that looked like it took some great deal of skill to do.  A glass door
  sat in a red-bricked archway, with a list of shop hours and holiday times, the
  shops name carved in the stone instead of a flashy sign.

   

   

  Suna’s Body Art…

   

   

  Despite the plain exterior of the place, Hinata couldn’t
  help but find herself a little more interested in the place after reading the
  sign.  So when Naruto proceeded inside, Hinata didn’t hesitate to follow after
  him.  More than a little curious about what the store would contain.

   

   

  She was a little shocked at first.  In her mind she had
  envisioned something a little fancier, with paintings by famous artists on the
  walls and some classy, soft music playing from speakers on the wall.

   

   

  Instead, the walls were covered in picture frames with
  no-name drawings done in pencil and various inks.  On the left side there were
  a couple of comfortable couches with squishy throw-pillows and a blanket over
  the back of the longer of the two.  A low coffee table, skillfully designed and
  finished sat in front of them while a single stool-like table sat in the corner
  between the sofas.  On the right was a long angled shelf that hung off the
  wall, four very thick different colored binders sitting on top.  At the front
  was a long wooden counter; a computer sitting on the polish surface, a fax
  machine against the left wall and two comfortable looking desk chairs.

   

   

  The room was actually pretty small, narrower in width than
  length.  Hinata guessed that there was only about twenty feet between the door
  and countertop, the door was only about five feet away from the little sitting
  area while the other wall and the shelf roughly ten.  She could see another
  archway behind the counter that lead off into a circular room with pined glass
  walls and five doors.

   

   

  She moved off towards the binders, a little curious about
  what was inside them, as the others entered and moved to sit down on the
  sofas.  Naruto stood at the counter, repeatedly tapping a little bell over and
  over again.

   

   

  The first binder Hinata opened was that of deep red.  She
  marveled at the drawings, admiring the shading and sheer detail that each had. 
  Some were normal sketches done in black and white; others had the shading done
  in various colors.  The drawings cut off three-quarters of the way through the
  binder, replaced by photographs.

   

   

  Realization seemed to dawn on Hinata as she looked over all
  the photos.

   

   

  Tattoos.

   

   

  Hinata studied each photo, awed at the beautiful colors and
  shades that seemed to come alive.  Some of them matched the designs from the
  front pages, while the rest were more original looking but still skillfully
  drawn and inked. 

   

   

  She paused at one page in particular, the bright colors of
  familiar looking flames catching her attention.  Hinata had seen it enough
  times to recognize Sasuke’s tattoo anywhere.  She had always admired the art
  work and how very real it looked when she first saw it, and had even
  wondered who had done it.  She remembered wanting one when she had first met
  Sasuke but was too shy to even ask him where he had gotten it done.  Of course,
  she could have always asked Naruto but she didn’t want to seem nosy.  And now…

   

   

  Now she knew.

   

   

  Hinata licked her lips as she closed the binder, not even
  bothering to look at the remaining pictures.  She turned just in time to see a
  tall, broad shoulder man walk out of the back.  He was scowling, more than
  likely a little annoyed with the constant ding of the bell, but the look
  immediately disappeared when he saw who it was.

   

   

  “Naruto!”

   

   

  He came around the counter, shaking hands with the blond. 
  He was smiling now, Hinata noticed, making her way over to stand a few feet
  away from them.

   

   

  “Hey, Kankurou, how’s it going?” Naruto leaned against the
  counter in a relaxing manner.

   

   

  “Not too, bad.  Been kinda dead the last few days.  Not that
  I’m complain’ none.”

   

   

  Naruto laughed.  “With your rep?  Doubtful if it’ll stay
  that way.  You guys do the best tattoos in the city.”

   

   

  A smirk was Naruto answer. “Oh joy.”

   

   

  Kankurou, Hinata concluded, was the type of person easily
  liked by anyone and everyone.  He had a hard face, though handsome.  His eyes
  were a soft golden brown, and were slightly squinted looking with dark full
  lashes.  His nose was more wide than narrow, a wide mouth with a thin upper lip
  and full bottom.  His hair was a spiky mess that looked as if he hadn’t brushed
  it in years, the strands laying all about his head and a little long at the
  back.  His personality closely matched that of Naruto’s shiny character, only
  with a more shadowy aura.

   

   

  Already, Hinata like him.

   

   

  Kankurou moved back behind the counter and sat down heavily
  in one of the chairs.  “Guessing you’re here to see the rough?”  He dug around
  under the counter for a moment, pulling out a worn out sketch book.  The coil
  binding suggested that at one point it was thick with paper but now only seemed
  to have about one-sixteenth of what it used to hold.

   

   

  Hinata moved to get a closer look as Kankurou opened it up,
  but jerked to a stop at the glared that was suddenly sent her way.  She made
  the move to step back again, but Naruto’s hand on her arm stopped her progress
  and pulled her up to stand next to him.

   

   

  “This is Hinata, a friend of mine.”  Hinata smile
  uncertainly as she was introduced.  However, instead of smiling back and
  greeting her in a friendly manner, Kankurou’s eyes just narrowed a little more
  as he looked her up and down.

   

   

  The gaze was gone as Kankurou’s head violently was knocked
  forward.  He straightened a second later, rubbing the back of his abused head
  as he glared behind him.  “Ouch!  Damn it Temari, what the hell was that for?”

   

   

  Hinata blinked at the new person, not noticing when she had
  first entered the room.

   

   

  She was tall and had dirty blond hair pulled back into four
  pigtails, with blue-green eyes that were currently glaring right back at
  Kankurou.  Her arms were crossed in a disapproving matter; her navy blue corset
  hugging her tightly and doing nothing to hid the large tattoo on the top of her
  left upper arm.

   

   

  It looked like a weasel.  Or at least, that’s what Hinata
  thought it was.  It was grey and white with a black tipped tail and had a little
  black sleeve-less jacket with red trimming on.  A bandage was wrapped about the
  weasel’s head, covering the left eye and an earring with beads and blue string
  on it’s left ear.  A scythe was wrapped in it’s arms, the length of the handle
  running as long as it’s body, the blade curving in a great arch that was
  parallel with the weasel’s tail.

   

   

  “Quit being an ass.”  The tall blond folded her arms a cross
  her chest and lean a shoulder against the wall.  “He said she was friend, so be
  nice.  Or less.”

   

   

  Hinata gazed at the other girl in wonderment but quickly
  looked away and blushed as blue-green eyes snapped over to her.  She clenched
  her hands tightly into fists, fighting off the nerves that seemed to surface.

   

   

  “Ignore him.  He just doesn’t like anyone seeing his
  sketches until their finished.  But he’s harmless, really.”  Hinata peeked over
  from the corner of her eye, seeing the other girl giving her a small smile. 
  “If he gives you any trouble, just let me know.  I’ll take care of him.”

   

   

  Naruto nudge Hinata gently with his elbow.  “Looks like you
  made a new friend, Hinata.”

   

   

  Kankurou growled.  “Whatever.  Do you wanna see the drawing
  or not?”

   

   

  “Believe it!”

   

   

  This time when Hinata looked over to see the sketch,
  Kankurou didn’t so much as look at her.  He was still unhappy about her
  peeking, but didn’t say or do anything other than frown.

   

   

  It was messy, with several erasing smudges all over the page. 
  Hinata could see the shape and design was that of a fox – long nosed and
  eared.  The mouth was twisted up into a sinister-like half grin, showing off
  the sharp teeth in it’s mouth.  The body was curved and arched; making it look
  like it was descending down from a hill or mountain without the landscape.  It
  had nine-tails twisting and twirling around behind it, their length just as
  long as it’s body.  Little notes were made on the sides and corners of the
  page.  The words Nine-Tails written at the top in bold letters and
  underlined several times.

   

   

  She listened as the two of them began going over the different
  things that Naruto wanted changed and added.  Where the shading was going to
  go, how much color was going to be added where, as well as placement and size
  of where Naruto wanted to get it done.  She found it all fascinating, really. 
  She knew that Naruto already had a tattoo – a tribal type swirl on his stomach
  with Japanese characteristics written around it – but she didn’t know that he
  had planned on getting another one.

   

   

  Hinata looked over to her other three friends as they sat
  and chatted on the couches.  Her eyes roamed over the various cheery-blooms on
  Sakura’s person that seemed to be placed in random spots all over.  She
  couldn’t help but wonder if she had any more.  And what about Ino and Tenten?

   

   

  She studied both Ino and Tenten for a moment before looking
  back over to Kankurou’s sketch.

   

   

  Did Tenten have a tattoo, too?  And what about Ino?  It was
  hard to tell if Tenten had one – the brunette constantly wore jeans and very
  rarely wore anything more revealing that a tank-top.  Her back and stomach was
  always covered, so it was possible that the young sculptor had one.  But Ino
  didn’t wear the same constricting clothes that Tenten did.  The blond designer
  was always wearing shorts and skirts.  Hinata had even seen her in a very fancy
  dress one time that elegantly showed off her legs, stomach and her entire
  back.  There was no sign of any tattoo but that didn’t mean that Ino didn’t
  have one… right?

   

   

  “Ino?  Tenten?”  She looked back over to her friends to see
  their attention was once again on her.  “Do you have any tattoos?”

   

   

  The two of them shared a confused look with Sakura before
  both of them nodded.

   

   

  “I have two flowers just under my hip bones.”  Ino leaned
  back in her seat, rubbing the area where her hips met her legs.  “Their water
  lilies.  My mother’s favorite.”

   

   

  Hinata felt her heart clench at the soft look at passed
  through Ino’s eyes.  She had learned early in their friendship that like her
  self, Ino had lost her mother at a young age.  But where Hinata had a few,
  precious memories of hers, Ino had none and had been raised by her father as an
  only child.  It actually surprised Hinata that Ino didn’t turn out to be a
  tom-boy.

   

   

  “I only got one.”  Tenten lift up her left pant leg.  The
  whole outer side of her calf was colorfully done in the design of an unrolled
  scroll, a diamond shape single handled knife and a couple of star-shaped items
  sat at the bottom.  There was some writing on the scroll but Hinata couldn’t
  make out the symbols.  “That there is what is called a kunai. It’s basically a
  small spearheaded shaped knife. The hole at the end was used to help twirl it
  around in your hand.  And these are called shuriken, or ‘throwing stars’.  They
  usually have four or five points and were mainly used to slow down an enemy.”

   

   

  Hinata didn’t really understand what Tenten meant but
  figured the other girl knew what she was talking about.  After all, Tenten’s
  family was originally from Japan, and according to her, she was a descendent of
  a long line of weapon makers.

   

   

  “What do the symbols mean?”  Sakura asked.

   

   

  “Oh, that’s kanji.”  Tenten pulled down her pant leg.  “It
  basically says, ‘to protect and serve, to honor and obey, to mend and defend,
  to fight and live’.  Or something to that degree.  It used to be the family’s
  motto.”

   

   

  Hinata’s eyes moved over to Temari’s tattoo again. 

   

   

  Catching the look, Temari answered before Hinata could ask. 
  “I have a fan on my right shoulder blade too.”

   

   

  “Both arms are covered.”  Kankurou piped up.  He ignored the
  curious look Hinata gave him, turning his attention back to the design details
  with Naruto.  His long-sleeved black shirt covering both of his arms blocking
  Hinata’s view.  “You’ll see them eventually.  So don’t bother asking.”

   

   

  “Kankurou…”

   

   

  Hinata smiled a little at the threatening way Temari’s voice
  sounded.  She was sure that the two of them would become fast friends in the
  future.  Maybe the older girl could even help Hinata develop a backbone of her
  own.  Sure Sakura, Ino and Tenten and helped her leave her shell, but Hinata
  knew that she lacked the confidence and strong will that she couldn’t help but admire
  Temari for.

   

   

  She watched as Kankurou made a few more little notes on the
  sketch.  Occasionally erasing a part and re-drawing it as Naruto explained how
  he wanted it.  She could tell from the way his lines and shading looked that
  the drawings she saw earlier and the picture of Sasuke’s tattoo were not done
  by Kankurou.

   

   

  No.  Kankurou’s drawing had a bold and more powerful appeal
  to them.  The drawings in the red binder were more elegant and almost seem
  alive.  And she could tell that Naruto’s tattoo was going to be filled with
  color.  The other’s hardly had any coloring in it unless it was mix and blended
  into the shading.  And if they weren’t done by Kankurou…

   

   

  Then who?

   

   

  She looked back over to the shelf.  The red binder seemed to
  stand out against all of them – although the blue and purple ones were brighter
  in color and the deep green seemed to look out of place.  She found her self
  wanting to look at those pictures again.  To marvel and gaze with unrepressed
  astonishment.

   

   

  She wanted to own one.

   

   

  “I want one.”

   

   

  Hinata had said it so quietly that she wasn’t really sure
  that anyone had heard her.  But silence stretched inside the room and when she
  turned back around, everyone’s eyes were on her.  Sakura and Ino were looking
  at her with eyes wide with surprise, Tenten had her brows frowned.  Naruto
  stood with his mouth open in shock as Kankurou just raise an eyebrow at her. 
  Temari seemed to be the only one not at all shocked or surprised.  Instead, the
  dirty-blond just gave her a slow lazy smile.

   

   

  She refused to allow her self to blush or to fidget.  She
  squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, meeting Temari’s eyes head on. 
  “I want a tattoo, please.”

   

   

  Temari’s smile widen.  “You sure about that?”

   

   

  “Yes.”

   

   

  “Wait a minute!”  Sakura jumped to her feet, Ino and Tenten
  following right after her.  The pinkette grabbed Hinata gently by the
  shoulders.  “What are you talking about, you want a tattoo?  Are you crazy?”

   

   

  “No.”

   

   

  Naruto suddenly looked uncomfortable.  “Hinata… you don’t have
  to get one just ‘cause we all have one, ya’no?”

   

   

  “I know.”  She gave Naruto a small smile in appreciation. 
  She had always admired him for his out going attitude and friendly
  personality.  She even made a vow to her self that she would try to be just
  like him one day.  “But I want one for proof.”

   

   

  “Proof for what?”  Ino asked.  “You have nothing to prove.”

   

   

  Hinata shook her head.  “To myself.”

   

   

  She didn’t elaborate.  She didn’t need to.  Understanding
  passed over their faces and none of them said anything else.  Hinata was glad
  for it because she wasn’t sure that she had enough courage to voice it out
  loud.  She wasn’t doing this for them or for the benefit of the make-over.

   

   

  She was doing this for her.

   

   

  Kankurou scratched his cheek with the end of his pencil. 
  “Got anything in mind?”

   

   

  Hinata nodded.  “Wings.”  She ignore the funny look he gave
  her and pointed behind her towards the binders.  “And I want the artist of the red
  binder to do it.”

   

   

  She wasn’t sure what she had said but Kankurou and Temari
  seem to freeze.  Utter shock and surprise was written over their faces before
  they exchanged a slightly worried glance to each other.

   

   

  Naruto cocked his head to the side, oblivious to the tension
  in the room.  “What red binder?”

   

   

  “You sure about that?”  Temari sound hesitant and unsure. 
  She ignore the puzzled look Naruto sent her way, keeping her eyes completely
  trained on Hinata.  “I mean, Kankurou and I would be more than happy to do it.”

   

   

  Hinata shook her head again.  “No.  I want them to do it.”

   

   

  Naruto frowned. “What red blinder?”

   

   

  Temari shrugged her shoulders.  “Well, the offer still
  stands.”  She sent a smirk to Hinata and winked.  “Just in case.”  She reached
  under the counter and pulled out a large leather date book.  “I think I can
  schedule you in next week.”

   

   

  “No.  Now.”

   

   

  Hinata mentally cheered at her self for not flinching when
  Temari sent her a sharp look.  She didn’t want to wait until next week to get
  this done.  She wanted to get it done now before her courage and strength left
  her completely.  Which she had no doubt would be completely vanish by the time
  the appointment came around.  There was no other choice to do it but now.

   

   

  “Wait!”  Naruto threw his hands up in the air.  “What
  red blinder?!”

   

   

  Sakura hit him upside the head.  “Their talking about the
  one over on the shelf, moron!”

   

   

  “Ouch, Sakura.”  Naruto rubbed the back of his head.  He
  peered over his shoulder to his childhood friend, tears in his eyes.  “But
  there is no red binder.  There’s only a blue, purple and green one.”

   

   

  “Actually,” Kankurou leaned back in his chair, the shock
  replace with amusement.  “There is a red binder.”

   

   

  “Wait, what?”  Naruto blinked.  “Since when?”

   

   

  Kankurou thought for a moment.  “About… what, a month? 
  Maybe two?”  He looked over to Temari as she put the date book back and nodded
  her head agreement.

   

   

  “You guys actually hired someone else?”  The blond male
  gaped in sheer wonderment.  “Who?”

   

   

  Hinata put her bags over by the couches with the others. 
  She filled out the necessary forms Temari handed to her and signed her name,
  all with remarkably steady hands.

   

   

  She could feel her stomach twist in much the same way it had
  earlier that day when she sat in hers and Sakura’s apartment, waiting for the
  others to arrive to help give her a make-over.  It seemed like ages ago rather
  than that morning to her.

   

   

  Hinata walked around the counter as Temari ushered her over
  and lead the way into the back room.

   

   

  Kankurou smirked knowingly, chuckling to himself.  “Good
  luck.”

   

   

  Naruto slammed his hands onto the counter top.  “Damnit
  Kankurou!  Who?”

   

   

  Hinata didn’t hear Kankurou reply.  Instead, she focused her
  attention on trying to calm her nerves down the best that she could.  It was
  getting harder to resist the urge to poke her fingers together and even harder
  to keep herself from trembling.

   

   

  This wasn’t like her.  Not in the least.  Hinata had never
  been the type of person to do anything spontaneous, not without fully thinking
  things through.  But mostly, she had never done anything that would displease
  her father, either.

   

   

  Which is exactly why she was doing this, she told her self. 
  She was tired of being afraid.  She was tired of living in her father’s shadow,
  trembling and worrying constantly about what he would think or say.  She wanted
  to be her own person, to live her own life.  Without the fear of her father’s
  wrath.  She was an adult!  And it was time she started acting like it.

   

   

  “Here we are.”

   

   

  Temari opened the last door on the left and ushered Hinata
  inside.  It was an average size room.  Black cabinets sat against two out of
  the four walls, the material staying out against the off-white grey paint, a
  few sketches of pyramids and other Egyptian statues took up some of the empty
  space above them.  A desk with a computer and chair sat against another, a few
  photos sitting on the surface, and two full length body mirrors hung on the
  last wall.  A metal relining chair, with deep burgundy cushions sat in the
  middle of the room.

   

   

  “Have a seat.”  Temari turned around and headed back down
  the hall.  “He’ll be in, in a minute.”

   

   

  Hinata eyed the recliner for a moment before deciding
  against it.  Instead she made her way over the sketches on the walls and
  studied them closely.  She would be the first to admit that she knew little to
  nothing about Egyptian culture or traditions.  She knew the names of some of
  the Gods that were worshiped, but didn’t know anything beyond that.

   

   

  She found the drawings of hieroglyphics odd yet strangely
  fascinating to look at and wondered what it said, if it said anything.  It was
  a sketch after all; there was really no guarantee that it was actually real.

   

   

  But the one she was really drawn to was the one with the
  large rock in it.  Upon closer inspection though, Hinata could make out the
  details of four large statues that were carved into the stone surface, just
  like the shops name was outside.  The second statue on the left was missing
  half of its upper body.  She could just barely make out the fine details of the
  archway in the very middle and the slight shading of a fifth statue sitting at
  the top of the entrance in between the four larger ones.

   

   

  Hinata reached up and slowly, gently traced the images with
  the tips of her fingers.

   

   

  “What are you doing in here?”

   

   

  Hinata shrieked and spun around as her hand flew up to her
  chest, as if to stop her heart from flying out of her chest.  Her wide and
  panicked eyes met and locked with pale green.

   

   

  Speech seemed to fail Hinata for a moment as she stared at
  the man in front of her.  He had similar facial structures as Kankurou, but not
  as sharp or profound.  His check bones were a little higher and his skin was
  paler.  His eyes seemed endless and the deepest turquoise-green Hinata had ever
  seen, with thick black liner outlining them.  But his hair… his hair was an
  unruly messy of crimson that fell across his forehead.  He was taller than
  Naruto and Kankurou and slim.  He was covered from head to foot in black, his
  arms were bare and lined with muscles.

   

   

  He was beautiful.  He was frightening.

   

   

  Hinata couldn’t stop herself from shaking.  She wasn’t sure
  what it was about him but her mind screamed at her to run.  To escape and run;
  run and never look back.  And yet, her body was tense with the desire to stay.

   

   

  His eyes suddenly sharpened on her.  “I asked you a
  question.”

   

   

  “U-uh… I-I…”  She couldn’t help but timidly poke and twist
  her fingers together.  A blush light up her face and she quickly looked down,
  unable to look him directly into the eyes.  “I c-came to… to g-get a t-tatt-too… 
  T-Temari, s-she – ”

   

   

  “Get out.”

   

   

  Hinata head snapped up.  “W-what?”

   

   

  He ignored her and walked over to the desk, throwing a set
  of keys and – Hinata guessed – his wallet.  “I don’t tattoo weaklings.  I don’t
  have the time nor the patience.  So leave.”

   

   

  She was shocked.  It was really the only thing that would
  explain why she remained standing in place.  She was sure that any other time,
  she would have bolted from the room and out the shop without so much as a
  second thought or glance.

   

   

  She wanted to do it right now.  So why didn’t she?

   

   

  He had called her weak.  Of course, it wasn’t like it was
  the first time she had heard someone say it to her.  In fact she was used to
  it.  It was the one word that both her father and sister had used to describe
  her.  And even though he never said it to her face, Hinata was positive that
  her older cousin, Neji, thought it of her too.

   

   

  So really, it was nothing new to her.  But then why did it
  bother her that he – this man that Hinata just met – called her weak?

   

   

  Was it because he was judging her without first knowing
  her?  She really did hate it when people judged others based on appearances. 
  It was childish and immature and, in a small way, cowardly.

   

   

  Or was it because being weak was the reason she was here in
  the first place and she had failed in appearing otherwise?  It made sense.  The
  whole time, since walking into the door, Hinata had been able to hold her self
  together.  She hadn’t stuttered or poked her fingers or trembled – too visibly
  – until she had set eyes on the red-haired stranger.

   

   

  He had caught her off guard and with that, her sense of
  balance.  He had seen through her little act and called her bluff.

   

   

  Hinata cocked her head to the side in curiosity.  Did he
  think she was bluffing?  Or was it he who was bluffing just to test her and see
  if she really was weak?

   

   

  She didn’t turn her gaze away when he turned to glare at her
  over his shoulder.  The feeling to flee came to her again at the sight of his
  eyes.  The green depths seeming almost soulless if one stared into them too
  long and Hinata was reminded again of just how handsome she thought he was.

   

   

  Hinata felt a shudder run down her spine as he raised an
  invisible eyebrow at her.  She clenched her hands into fists tightly and
  straightened her shoulders.  She forced her self to meet his glare head on with
  one of her own – mentally patting her self on the back when she didn’t flinch
  when he practically snarled at her.

   

   

  “No.”

   

   

  Hinata broke eye contact and moved to the recliner.  “I want
  angelic-wings.”  She sat, straddling the metal-recliner, with her chest pressed
  against the cushioned back.  “I want the top to just reach the top of my
  shoulder blades, the bottoms half way down my ribs.”  Not allowing her self
  enough time to really think about it – fearing that she was chicken out – she
  quickly pulled her shirt up and off.  Her bra unclasped and joining her shirt
  in her lap seconds later.  “I don’t want them to be arched, but not folded or
  flat looking either.”

   

   

  She hugged her arms across her chest as she finished
  explaining.  She heard some movement behind her; the sound of a pencil moving
  over a firm surface for a few moments followed by paper ripping.

   

   

  He held out the sheet of paper to her, his face half turned
  away from her.  She appreciated the small act of courtesy he exhibited to her
  half decent state of dress.  She carefully took the paper, pressing herself even
  firmer against the chair for safety precautions.

   

   

  She stared in amazement at the simple sketch.  The lines and
  shading was roughly drawn but elegant looking for being drawn in such a short
  time.  Each feather seemed to stand out in their own way – arching left and
  right, little rough patches here and there making them look slightly ruffled
  from use.  She could hardly imagine what kind of advanced detail would be put
  into the actually tattoo, the veins and shading that would bring it to life.

   

   

  Hinata turned so she could face her tattoo artist fully, a
  real honest smile on her face.  “It’s perfect.”  Her smile disappeared after a few
  moments of no reply.  He had his eyebrow raised again and his eyes were a
  little bit widener in what Hinata could only guess as mindless-shock.  “Is
  something wrong?”

   

   

  His eyes flickered to hers for a second before looking back
  down.  His face losing that surprised look and going blank once again.

   

   

  The action itself had Hinata frowning slightly.  She
  followed his glaze downward and froze.

   

   

  She blinked in confusion as she stared down at her self
  before something finally clicked in her head and gasped.

   

   

  Instantly, Hinata’s face flamed as she quickly shot back
  around, her arms wrapping around the recliner’s back.  She pressed her self as
  tightly as she could to the cushioned seat.  The leathery material biting into
  her sensitive skin.

   

   

  She flashed him.  Oh God – she flashed him!

   

   

  She closed her eyes in embarrassment.  What the hell could
  have made her forget she was topless?  Topless, of all things.

   

   

  Hinata took a deep breath to calm herself.  After all, it
  wasn’t that big of a deal, right?  It was just skin.  She was sure that he had
  more than likely seen a lot more than that in his life time, and probably won’t
  be his last.  And she was sure that despite it being the first time anyone has
  ever – ever – seen her in that way, it wouldn’t be her last time
  either.  She was a full grown woman.  So really it wasn’t that big of a deal.

   

   

  Who was she kidding?  Hinata pressed her face into the
  leather cushion as the desire to weep sprang to her eyes.  Here she was. 
  Sitting, straddling actually, an obviously fake leather recliner in a room,
  alone, with quite possibly the hottest guys she has ever met in her entire
  life.  Whom she just flashed.

   

   

  She was fairly sure that this could be the most embarrassing
  moment of her life.

   

   

  Hinata felt the seat jerk a little bit but didn’t remove her
  face from its hiding place.  She wasn’t ready to face him, not yet anyways. 
  However, curiosity got the best of her as she heard cabinet doors and drawers
  being opened and closed.  The sound of some kind of cart being rolled over had
  her slowly lifting her head and peeking timidly out of the corner of her eye.

   

   

  He had his back to her, which she was glad for, as he went
  about pulling out various different labeled bottles and a tube of some kind of
  clear goop looking stuff.  He pulled out five different little white cup-things
  that were half the size of her pinky.

   

   

  Embarrassment forgotten for the moment, Hinata leaned a
  little closer to watch him go about his prepping.  His little rolling-cart sat
  about waist high to his left, making it easy for Hinata to see what he was
  putting on the metal contraption.  A piece of paper towel was tacked down, a
  little bundle of extra sheets stacked neatly off to the side with an unlabeled
  clear liquid bottle with a squeeze tube top sat on top to hold them down.

   

   

  He spread five even globs of that goop-looking stuff onto
  the tacked paper towel, pressing the little white-cups down on to each.  He
  picked up and shook a pure black bottle, squeezing some into one of
  white-cups.  Repeating the process over again with the white and then grey
  bottles.

   

   

  “Have you decided on what colors you wanted?”

   

   

  Hinata blinked.  “Colors?”  His eyes were on her again, she
  noticed.  She couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment before the little
  slip up from earlier came rushing back to her, making her face flush once
  again.  She saw him smirk just before she turned away completely, the simple
  little action causing her blush to deepen and spread down her neck and
  shoulders.

   

   

  She thought about it for a few silence minutes.  She didn’t
  really consider what colors to get earlier and found herself curious about
  which colors would suit his drawing.  She had seen how each color would create
  a different imagine and meaning when applied.  How bold, powerful and
  passionate one color would create, while another would suggest something
  completely opposite in comparison.

   

   

  But which did she want?  Which would suit her?

   

   

  “Soft tones.”

   

   

  “Huh?”  Hinata peeked shyly back over to her tattoo artist,
  the red-hair silently regarding her with a blank look.  “Soft tones?”

   

   

  He leaned back against the black cabinets behind him.  “You
  have fair skin.  Very pale – almost ivory looking.  Anything too bold or
  bright, you’ll run the risk of looking sickly.”

   

   

  “So red is out of the question, right?”  She giggled lightly
  to her self; a raised eyebrow was her response from the quiet man next to her. 
  When it became obvious that he really wasn’t going to say anything in reply,
  she cleared her throat and tried to break the uncomfortable silence.  “Would
  lavender work?”

   

   

  He nodded.  “Any others?”

   

   

  “Do you think I should?”

   

   

  He sighed deeply as he thought about it.  His eyes roaming
  over her body in a lazy, calculating manner.

   

   

  Hinata tried not to shudder as his green-eyes moved over her
  skin.  The attention alone was enough to make her cheeks pinkened.  She tried
  to sit still as he took his time to examined her but couldn’t help but shift
  slightly as she felt goose-bumps dance over her arms and legs.  Her stomach did
  a funny little flip-flop as his eyes slowly followed the curve of her spine
  before moving back up to her face.

   

   

  “Blue.”

   

   

  Hinata licked her lips nervously.  “R-really?”

   

   

  He pushed away from his perch and turned around.  “A shade
  lighter than your hair.”

   

   

  Breathing seemed to come a bit easier for the Hyuuga once
  his attention shifted away from her.  She sagged a little bit in relief and
  released a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding.

   

   

  She watched him search, find and prep the last two colors
  before pulling on a pair of blue latex gloves. The cart was pushed closer to
  the recliner as he walked around to the desk, picking up the forgotten sketch
  that she had dropped earlier in her embarrassment.  He studied the picture as
  he absentmindedly grabbed a blue washable sharpie out of the desk drawer.

   

   

  Hinata tensed as he suddenly sat behind her.  She could feel
  the heat from his chest warming her back as his thighs just barely brushed
  against her rear.  A latex covered, but warm, hand lightly touched her lower
  back.  She allowed her self to be guided forward as he gently pushed against
  her.  She lifted her chin up to sit on the top of the back rest, her arms
  shifting to lay across her lap as her shoulders and chest pressed against the chair’s
  back.

   

   

  He shifted a little behind her, his hands moving around to
  her shoulders and arms to rearrange them to a position that he liked.

   

   

  “Don’t move.”

   

   

  His body heat disappeared for a little while, leaving
  Hinata’s back feeling cold.  She stopped her self from moving her hands up and
  down her arms.  Instead, keeping still as he had instructed her to.

   

   

  He was only gone for a minute until he was back again,
  returning to his place behind her once again.

   

   

  Hinata couldn’t help but turn her head as she heard him set
  something heavy down onto the rolling-cart.  Her eyes just barely saw the
  single handled black machine before her head was manually turned back around.

   

   

  “Don’t.  Move.”

   

   

  “S-sorry.”

   

   

  True to her word, Hinata didn’t move again.  Not even when
  the cold, slimy feeling of the sharpie tip touched her bare back, causing
  little shivers to race up her spine.  Or when he used a wet piece of paper
  towel to erase a spot he didn’t like.

   

   

  She wasn’t sure how long they sat there – her as still as
  can be with him sitting behind her drawing away on her back.  She could only
  just imagine what her friends would say if they saw them in this position.

   

   

  Sakura would more than likely throw a hissy-fit and try to
  beat him up.  Ino would more than likely encourage her to go for the gold and
  promise to tell her all the juicy details later.  Tenten, Hinata could easily
  imagine, would more than likely just laugh, turn around and walk away pulling a
  stunned and speechless Naruto behind her.

   

   

  Hinata sighed quietly to her self.  She couldn’t help but
  wonder what the others were doing right now.  If the girls were still sitting
  in the little waiting area chatting away in their own little world.  And if
  Naruto was still asking about the artist of the red binder or if he finally
  figured out the mystery behind her tattoo artist’s identity.

   

   

  Hinata blinked as something dawned to her.  She didn’t even
  know the red-head’s identity.  This whole time she had been in the same room as
  him, conversing with him and she didn’t even ask him his name.

   

   

  How rude of her!

   

   

  A buzzing sound filled the room and made Hinata aware that
  the slimy feeling moving across her back had disappeared.  She could still feel
  a few of his fingers lightly pressing into her left shoulder blade and the heat
  from his chest and thighs were still painfully obvious to her.

   

   

  She wondered for a moment how long ago he had finished
  drawing on her but decided not to voice her question out loud.  Instead, Hinata
  found herself wondering about the annoying buzzing sound that seemed to be
  right behind her.

   

   

  His fingers gripped her shoulder suddenly before loosening
  their hold.  “Don’t tense.”

   

   

  She frowned at that.  Don’t tense?

   

   

  Hinata hissed as pain shot straight up her spine.  Her head
  fell forward as her eyes shut tightly at the feeling, tearing almost spilling
  over.  She could feel her back muscles spasm before tensing and clenching
  tightly in protest.

   

   

  A few violent curses were uttered behind her, the pain
  disappearing just as fast as it came.  She heaved a sigh of relief when it was
  gone, biting her lower lip as it began to shake uncontrollable.

   

   

  “Damn it!”  The buzzing stopped.  “I told you not to
  tense!”

   

   

  “Well, I’m sorry!”  A few tears leaked out of the corner of
  Hinata’s eyes.  “Let’s see you have a needle jabbed into your fucking spine
  with only two words of warning and see if you don’t tense!”

   

   

  He didn’t answer but she could tell from his body language
  that he wasn’t happy in the least.  As a matter of fact, Hinata was certain
  that he was thinking that she was weak again.  Not that she really cared at the
  moment.  What, with part of her spine feeling as if it was on fire.

   

   

  And now she was feeling bad for yelling at him.  She
  shouldn’t, of course.  It was his fault.  Who in their right mind would give no
  more warning than don’t tense?  If anything that would just make someone
  more nervous and actually cause them to tense rather than not to.

   

   

  Then again, she was a little more sensitive than more
  people.  And she really didn’t handle pain very well, so it could be possible
  that he didn’t need to give anymore warning than that in the past.  And in that
  case, she really couldn’t blame him for it either.

   

   

  But shit. That really hurt!

   

   

  She jumped slightly as he touched the tender area, biting
  her lip to stop her self from crying out in pain.  His fingers moved in light,
  gentle circles, adding little bits of pressure here and there.  Soon his other
  hand joined in, all ten fingers working over the knots and easing the tension
  out of the muscles.

   

   

  Hinata couldn’t help but slowly begin to relax under the
  ministration.  The pain began to fade to a dull ache and then was soon gone all
  together.  Her muscles felt like jelly under his hands after only a few moments
  and Hinata couldn’t help the small moan that escaped her throat as his fingers
  stopped.

   

   

  His chuckle was so quiet and deep, that Hinata could barely
  hear it.  But she could feel it.  The vibrations from his chest made her
  back tingle and her stomach clench.

   

   

  The buzzing sound came to life again, the sound alone making
  Hinata tense up a little at the possibility of more pain.  But his fingers were
  there again, rubbing, soothing away the stiffness and causing her to melt.  She
  barely felt anything as the needle touched her skin.  She hissed a little as it
  began to move but her muscles remained relaxed.

   

   

  It was really easy to stay in such a state.  In between his
  tattooing, he would gently massage her muscles into mush.  Being careful not
  push too hard against the freshly tender skin.

   

   

  Hinata’s eyes drooped in a lazy fashion.  The pain
  eventually had completely disappeared, leaving behind nothing more that a small
  dull ache.  The little touches and rubs doing nothing more than making her
  sleepy.

   

   

  “Outline’s complete.”

   

   

  She sighed.  All that time and they were only done the
  outline.  Even with the fuzziness around her brain, Hinata knew that he still
  had the basic shading to do, as well as the addition on the two colors he was
  going to be adding in here and there.

   

   

  At this rate, she was going to end up falling asleep.  And
  she wasn’t really too keen on the idea of taking a nap in a tattoo parlor, in a
  semi-uncomfortable position and topless.  She had embarrassed herself once
  already in front of her mysterious tattoo artist, she didn’t need a repeat. 
  Which meant she had to find something to occupy her time and keep her awake.

   

   

  And speaking of mysterious…

   

   

  “What’s your name?”

   

   

  The question seemed to catch him off guard at first.  The
  buzzing and massaging both stopped for a moment before the silence was once
  again filled with the annoying sound.  The massaging, however, didn’t.

   

   

  “Gaara.”

   

   

  “Gaara…”  Hinata allowed the name to slowly roll off her
  tongue.  Testing out the sound of it.  She liked it.  It suited him.  “I’m
  Hinata.”

   

   

  Gaara grunted but didn’t say anything.  Instead, he focused
  on his work in front of him. Not that Hinata was expecting him to really
  reply.  Somehow, she got the feeling that he was the strong silent type and
  kept to himself most of the time.  She could easily relate to that – kind of.

   

   

  She was sure that where she was shy and bashful, he was more
  outgoing and straight forward.  Despite the fact that he seemed more like the
  person to be anti-social, Hinata could easily picture him surrounded by
  numerous friends.  He wouldn’t shy away and try and blend into the background
  like she would.  Not that he really could.  Not with that hair of his.

   

   

  Was it natural?

   

   

  It was one of the things she had found fascinating about his
  person.  His hair was so bright that it probably drew all kinds of attention. 
  And as hard as Hinata tried, she couldn’t imagine Gaara trying to grab
  everyone’s attention like that.  Actually, he seemed like the type that didn’t
  really care either way.

   

   

  Which meant that it had to be natural, didn’t it?  But who,
  now-a-days, had crimson hair? And at such a vibrant shade no less?

   

   

  Hinata’s eyes wondered the room as she thought about it a
  little more.  She really wanted to ask him but somehow got the feeling that it
  was a bit too personal on a first meeting.  Not that she expected to see him
  again after today, but still.  It would be safer to pick a different topic of
  conversation to start out with.

   

   

  But what?

   

   

  Pale eyes landed on the frame sketches on the wall.  Hinata
  found her self marveling, for a second time, at the sheer detail and raw talent
  that each held.  “Did you draw those?”

   

   

  Gaara stopped for a second to see what she was indicating. 
  “Yes.”

   

   

  Hinata wait a few moments for him to elaborate.  “And?”

   

   

  “And what?”

   

   

  She sighed quietly to her self.  It would seem that he
  really wasn’t much of a conversationist.  Which, in Hinata’s opinion, sucked.

   

   

  How was she supposed to know the story behind the drawings
  if he doesn’t give her more than a one worded answer?  As a photographer, it
  was only natural for Hinata to be interested.  If such places existed, she
  wanted to see them her self, capture their beauty on film.  She could only
  imagine the different breath-taking shots she could capture every hour as the
  sun moved.

   

   

  “Are they real?”  She took advantage of one of his brief
  stops to reach up and scratch her nose.  “The places I mean.”

   

   

  He growled when she moved.  “Yes, in Egypt.”

   

   

  Hinata stared at each and every one of the pictures.  He had
  drawn them, sitting or standing, seeing them in real life at the exact distance
  that each picture suggested.  He had witnessed their beauty with his own eyes
  and tried to capture their essence on paper.

   

   

  “Beautiful.”  She breathed.  “Simply beautiful.”

   

   

  “Those are nothing compared to the real thing.”  Gaara set
  down his gun and poured some sanitizer over the freshly tattooed skin, rubbing
  Hinata’s lower back as she hissed.  He dipped the tip of his gun into the
  white, followed by the blue before continuing.  “The statues almost come alive
  when the sun hits them just right in the morning.  They face east, so they
  aren’t very eye catching during the sunset.”

   

   

  Hinata thought about what he said and how he worded his
  words.  Nothing compared to the real thing… Almost come alive…
  They face east…  He spoke with such passion now and knowledge.  Almost as
  if he was familiar with them in every aspect.  But how can he say that they
  aren’t just as spectacular at sunset as sun raise?  Only someone who would
  witness such a passing day in and day out, would miss even the smallest detail
  of how shadows could add every bit of life as sun could.

   

   

  She blinked in sudden realization. “You lived there.”

   

   

  It was a statement more than a question, but Gaara answered
  anyways.

   

   

  “For seventeen years.”  He poured some more sanitizer over
  her back and dipped into the lavender next.  “My uncle lives in a village not far
  from the Neil.  He would take me to a lot of his dig sites and I would sit a
  draw while he worked.”

   

   

  “Your uncle is an Archeologist?”

   

   

  “He taught me everything I know.”

   

   

  Hinata giggled.  “And yet you’re a tattoo artist?”

   

   

  It was already too late when Hinata realized that she spoke
  without even thinking.  The silence that greeted her was proof enough that she
  had over step her boundaries.  He had no right sharing with her anything about
  him, let alone anything about his family.  And here she was laughing at him for
  his chosen profession.

   

   

  The silence stretched on for a while.  Each second had
  Hinata’s insides twisting uncomfortable at the very real possibility that she
  had hurt his feelings.  Not only that, but he probably figured that she had
  made fun of his home and insulted his uncle as well.

   

   

  Which she had done neither.  And if it had sounded like
  that, than she certainly didn’t mean for it to.  She wasn’t the type of person
  to poke fun at anyone.  It was cruel and very lowering for someone to do such a
  thing.  If someone decided to live their life a certain way and in a certain
  place, that was their business, not hers.  She had no right telling anyone how
  to live their life.

   

   

  Truth to the fact, Hinata actually admired both Gaara and
  his uncle.  From the tone of his voice, she could tell that he had had a happy
  childhood living in Egypt.  Something fair less than what she her self had
  experienced while growing up.

   

   

  And if he really did feel insulted, then she would
  apologize.

   

   

  Gaara poured the sanitizer over her back one last time
  before getting up.  The sudden cold rush of air against her back had Hinata’s
  shivering at the lose of heat.  The skin burned a little as the exposed air
  touched it, the ache dulling as a soothing slave was spread over it.

   

   

  “Did you want to see it, before I bandage it up?”

   

   

  Not trusting her voice, Hinata nodded.  She kept her front
  against the recliner’s back rest as he handed her a medium sized hand-mirror
  and instructed her to use it on the full length ones behind her.

   

   

  She grimaced at how pink and red her normally creamy skin
  was.  It look sore and tender, and she couldn’t help but wonder how she was
  going to be able to move around without causing herself unbelievable pain.

   

   

  However, light shades of lavender and cerulean captured her
  attention and she couldn’t help but gasp.  The wings were done in a black-grey
  outline that really almost looked like the shadows created from the lights. 
  The feathers were a mixture of white and grey, the lavender and cerulean blending
  into the edges and through the veins of each feather.  Small hints and just the
  barest of color could be seen in various places through out the whiteness.  The
  top of the wings arched gracefully up to the middle of her shoulder blades, and
  moved down into a soft sweeping motion to the top of her ribs.

   

   

  Hinata slowly lowered the mirror, completely dazed by what
  she saw.  For a moment there, she had forgotten that it was just a tattoo.  She
  almost believed that she had wings.  That she could fly.

   

   

  A sense of pride and freedom filled her chest.  Something
  that she had long to feel since moving out of her father’s house and take
  control over her own life.  It had taken a long time, but now…

   

   

  Now she truly believed she was free.

   

   

  “Thank you.”  She didn’t flinch when he took a picture.  Nor
  did she hiss when he put the bandage over her new tattoo.

   

   

  “Temari will give you something at the front desk for the
  burning.”  Gaara turned his back to her as Hinata moved to put her clothes back
  on.  “Leave the bandage on it for at least sixteen hours, and then wash it with
  non-scented soap.  Lotion it three-four times a day, but let it dry for thirty
  minutes after any showers or baths.  Don’t scratch it or pick at it when it
  peels.  Always put sun-screen on when going outdoors for any reason – it will
  help keep it from fading.  Any questions?”

   

   

  Hinata held back from making any painful sounds as she put
  her shirt on, glad that the bandage kept it from rubbing against her raw skin. 
  She mentally storing away all the information Gaara was giving her.

   

   

  She double checked over all her concerns and questions that
  she had when she had first walked in.  Finding everything already answered from
  his little speech.  “Not that I can think of.”

   

   

  “Good.”  He began cleaning up.  Throwing away any of the
  left over ink and the used paper towels, straightening up his little rolling
  cart before putting it away in the far corner of the room.

   

   

  He was ignoring her.  Or at least, that’s what it felt like
  to Hinata.  He didn’t look at her the entire time he spoke and had just went
  about cleaning up as if she wasn’t even there.

   

   

  Hinata’s spirits dropped.  She had hoped that they could
  have been friends, even if they never saw each other again after today.  He
  probably wanted her to leave, but she just couldn’t go with how things were. 
  Not until he knew that she didn’t intentionally mean to insult him and his
  family.

   

   

  “G-Gaara…”  He turned to her then, green eyes piercing her
  to the spot much like they did when she first saw him.  She couldn’t help but
  poke her fingers together at the blank look.  “I w-wanted to apology.  I
  wasn’t… I mean I didn’t… you’re uncle; I wasn’t trying to be in-s-sulting… I-I…
  umm…”

   

   

  He regarded her for a few long minutes, watching her
  movements so closely that it made Hinata shift on her feet.  “I know.”

   

   

  She heaved in relief and flashed him a small genuine smile. 
  It wasn’t a big smile but Hinata could tell that he seemed to relax a little
  bit from it, for which she was glad.

   

   

  “Come on.”  Gaara walked pass her to the door, ushering her
  out.  “I’ll have Temari make you another appointment in two weeks.  I want to
  make sure that its healing properly.”

   

   

  Hinata hurried pass him and down the hall.  All the while,
  very aware of him behind her.

  
  

   

  ~*~
  

   

  Gaara reentered his little office work space a good twenty
  minutes after following Hinata to the front desk to make sure she booked that
  second appointment.  Temari had given him a funny look when he made it but
  otherwise didn’t comment.

   

   

  It was true that he didn’t really make second appointments
  to check the healing process.  Okay, he never made second appointments but this
  time was different.  He wanted to make sure that she had healed properly.  That
  was all.  Pale skinned people sometimes had a harder time healing when it came
  to tattoos.

   

   

  Sasuke was a good example of this.  His phoenix tattoo had
  taken well over double the amount of time to heal.  His arm had blistered and
  swelled around some areas and it really freaked Gaara out.  Doctor had said not
  to worry about it, but Gaara had made it a rule never personally do full colors.

   

   

  And now he had Naruto up his ass about not letting the blond
  know he was in town.

   

   

  Gaara had met Naruto a few months back when he and Sasuke
  had taken a trip to see the Neil, while he himself was on vacation.  He and
  Sasuke had been childhood friends until Gaara was sent away to live with his
  uncle overseas.  They had stayed in touch, of course.  But didn’t really do
  much visiting over the years.

   

   

  He was only six when his father had shipped him away.  At
  the time, he didn’t really understand why he was the only one.  For the most
  part, he was a good kid.  A few fights here and there from school, but then
  again, his hair normally attracted him all kinds of attention.  Both the good
  kind and the bad kind.

   

   

   It wasn’t until he was about twelve or thirteen when he
  found out the truth that his father hated him.  He was still a little young at
  the time but old enough to understand the basics of it.

   

   

  His father had blamed him for his mother’s death, despite
  the fact that she had died before she was even fully dilated yet.  The doctors
  had blamed it on mass amounts of stress and anxiety.  They were just barely
  able to save him, as he was apparently stuck under her pelvic bone and
  they couldn’t get him out without causing him tremendous harm.

   

   

  At first his father had loved him like any father would, or
  at least that’s what Temari and Kankurou had claimed.  But at about six months
  old Gaara had ended up losing all of his hair and when it grew back; it was red
  instead of blond like it was at first.

   

   

  Doctors couldn’t give any reasons as of why it happened.  So
  his father was left to come up with his own conclusions on the matter.  In the
  end, his father came to believe it was his late wife’s way of cursing Gaara for
  taking her life.  By staining his very existence with her own blood.

   

   

  Everyone thought the bastard was nuts.

   

   

  But it didn’t change the fact that Gaara’s father ended up
  resenting and hating him.  The feelings seemed to rub off onto Temari and Kankurou
  as they got older and his two siblings began to hate him as well.

   

   

  It had gotten so bad that Gaara had actually tried to commit
  suicide at the tender age of six.  After that, Temari and Kankurou started
  treating him better and hanging around him more often.  This didn’t really go
  down too well with their old man.  But because he couldn’t just right out kill
  Gaara or go about the disgrace of disowning him, Gaara was sent away to live
  with his mother’s brother across seas.

   

   

  And Gaara had never been happier.

   

   

  It was hard leaving Temari and Kankurou behind.  They had
  developed a small bond between them before he was cast away but never-the-less,
  Gaara had never regretted or wished to change anything.  And their uncle,
  Yashamaru, was more than happy to take Gaara in.

   

   

  Sure, their relationship had started out a little rocky. 
  What, with Gaara becoming depressed from being separated from his siblings and
  the harsh change in environment, not to mention the small fact that the little
  red-head wasn’t really socially experienced.  The only two people who had ever
  really talked to him now half-way across the world.

   

   

  But, sure enough, as time went by, Gaara’s and Yashamaru’s
  relationship grew.  Gaara stared to become attached to his uncle a little more
  each day and even started opening up and talking back to the older male.

   

   

  Within the first year, they had a comfortable friendship
  between them.  Where ever Yashamaru went, the young little red-head wasn’t too
  far behind. 

   

   

  Yashamaru had even gone as far as to home-school Gaara so
  that the red-head would be more comfortable in his surrounding and so he could
  catch up to the other kids his age.  By the time the next school year started,
  Gaara was almost a full grade a head and was actually placed in an older class.

   

   

  However, despite his good grades and his attempts at making
  friends, Gaara never really made any friends.  Compared to the other kids, he
  was viewed as a freak.  His red hair, bright green eyes and pale skin stood out
  noticeably against everyone else in his class and even had some of his
  classmate’s parents concerned about what kind of influence he would have on
  their children.

   

   

  It didn’t take long for the concern to turn into fear and
  fear into vocal disagreement for him to be allowed to attend at all.  And
  eventually the other kids and the teachers began to pick up the negative
  vibes.  It had gotten to the point that Gaara was getting into meaningless
  fights and sent home early almost every day.

   

   

  And so, at the age of thirteen, Gaara was pulled out of
  public school and went back to being home-schooled.  Not that he minded in the
  least.  In all truth, Gaara had preferred his uncle to teach him rather than
  the closed-minded teachers anyways.  Of course, not to say that Gaara had been
  purposely trying to get kicked out but rather the opposite.

   

   

  Gaara loved school.  He enjoyed learning new things, both
  vocally and visually, although he preferred the latter than the former.  He had
  worked hard in all of his subjects and had even excelled at mathematics and history,
  more specifically historical constructions.

   

   

  He hadn’t been exaggerating before when he told Hinata that
  he learned everything from his uncle.  It was true.  From the day Yashamaru
  pulled him out of that school, Gaara went to every dig site and museum his
  uncle ever work at.  If there was no work to be done or if there was something
  that was a little too advanced for Gaara to help with, he would spend his time
  reading some textbook or sketching his surrounds.

   

   

  By the time Gaara had turned seventeen, he was already a
  third of his way through his first year of college for Constructional
  Engineering.  When he was twenty, he had graduated from Cairo University in Giza with full honors and had landed an apprenticeship with a major corporation
  back in the States.

   

   

  He had taken the job after reviewing over other various job
  offers and didn’t hesitate to take them up on their housing offer until he was
  able to find something for himself at a later date.

   

   

  Looking back even now, Gaara would still picture the proud
  look on Yashamaru’s face.  The memory being one of the very few that he
  treasured most.

   

   

  It has been four years since then, and Gaara was now one of
  the corporation’s leading Journeymen and top constructional designers on the
  pay-roll.  Three months ago they had even given Gaara to option to choose any
  city he wanted to work in.  And surprising enough, even to himself, he had
  picked his home town.

   

   

  He couldn’t really say that it had changed over the years,
  not really having any clear memories of any of the buildings.  In all reality,
  Gaara had felt a sense of dread fill him at the sudden thought of seeing the
  bastard again.  That really was something Gaara never wanted to experience if
  he could avoid it.

   

   

  However, despite his less than pleasant desired to be
  reunited with the old man, Gaara did want to see Kankurou and Temari again. 
  And he wasn’t going to let some old-crazy bastard get in his way.

   

   

  Actually, finding the two had been easier than Gaara had
  originally thought it would be.  Temari’s name came up under the directory as a
  private listing but there was also a business listing as well that even had
  Kankurou’s name on it, which included both a phone number and address.

   

   

  The address had turned out to be none-other than the tattoo
  parlor.  Gaara couldn’t really say that he was too surprised – after all, he
  did keep in touch with the two of them and Sasuke.  He knew all about
  Kankurou’s love of drawing and Temari’s passion for business.  So it made
  sense.

   

   

  The little reunion was touching to say the least.  Gaara had
  walked in just as Temari caught Kankurou sleeping on the front desk and was in
  mid-swing of smacking him upside the head.

   

   

  Gaara could never forget the looks on their faces.  How
  shocked and utterly happy the two of them became at the sight of them. 
  Honestly, he never really expected anyone besides Yashamaru to look at him like
  that.  The thought of more people that cared for him like that had made his
  heart warm.

   

   

  Hell, Kankurou had even cried!

   

   

  Gaara sat down on his burgundy recliner, linking his fingers
  behind his head as he leaned back.  Turquoise-green eyes landed on the three
  picture frames on his desk.  Smiling faces of himself and his sibling reflected
  back at him through the little glass frames, followed by one of himself and
  Yashamaru after graduation.

   

   

  It was the last one, however, that he found himself looking
  at more times than not.  The old, worn out picture of his mother that Temari
  had given him after he came home.  Her lips were turned up in soft smile that
  seemed to warm the heart.  Her hair was that of golden-honey, eyes a pale-sky
  blue.  She was the very spitting image of Yashamaru.  In all the years that he
  lived with his uncle, he never knew that the two of them were twins.

   

   

  It saddened him a little to know that now.  To find out that
  he was living with someone that was not only so close to his mother in her life
  but whom also shared her looks.  However, it also made him a little glad too. 
  After all, if he had known, then maybe he and Yashamaru would have never
  developed the kind of deep bond that they have today.

   

   

  He couldn’t help but wonder if she would have been proud of
  him.  Despite the little side job helping out Temari and Kankurou on his days
  off, Gaara had a pretty good career of his own going for him.  It wasn’t like
  he needed the money or anything.  In truth, he was actually doing this for
  free.

   

   

  It had started out simple enough.  Gaara had shown Kankurou
  and Sasuke some of his sketches from some of the various dig-sites he tagged
  along on.  After a little bit of pestering, Sasuke was able to talk Gaara into
  drawing the phoenix.  By the end of the week, it was tattooed – although
  painfully blistering afterwards – on his arm.

   

   

  After that, Gaara would do the occasional sketch here and
  there and Kankurou and Temari would do the rest.  A month later, Gaara knew
  every piece of equipment inside and out and how to operate it.  He even knew
  all the different inks they used and the chemical components in each one.

   

   

  By then, the shops reputation had seemed to sky rocket. 
  Business was coming in faster than they could keep up with.  Gaara had offered
  to come in and run the front desk while Temari and Kankurou did the tattooing,
  but even that didn’t really seem to help all that much.  Of course, there was
  always Baki to lean on too.  But the old man was stubborn to the core and
  wouldn’t agree to increase his four hours a day, three days a week any more
  than an extra hour a day.

   

   

  So, Gaara told Temari to teach him what he needed to know. 
  The ivory and lavender ribbon fan on her right shoulder blade was the end
  result.

   

   

  It had been almost two months since then.  The place was
  still practically booked solid but with Gaara helping out both Friday and
  Saturday night now, they were able to meet the demands.  And the best thing
  was, helping out at the parlor didn’t interfere with his job as a contractor at
  all.

   

   

  The again, it did increase his work schedule from four long
  hour days to six.  But he didn’t mind so much.  Hell, he preferred it.  And it
  was easy to understand why.

   

   

  Boredom.

   

   

  Yep, Gaara gets bored.  Very, very easily.

   

   

  Any more that one day off and Gaara found himself completely
  bored with nothing to do.  Sure, he tried to find some hobby or another to keep
  him busy, but they never did last long.

   

   

  Gaara sat up and rubbed his eyes.  He could hear to
  tell-tale sigh of customers from the front room as they entered the shop, more
  than likely the people that Temari had originally scheduled to be his first for
  the night.

   

   

  He swung his long legs over the side of the recliner, the
  twisting motion causing him to feel something coil uncomfortably underneath
  him.  He stood up and inspected the chair, a smirk lifting the corner of his
  mouth and he picked up a pecan-blue and white lace bra.

   

   

  A very familiar pecan-blue and white lace bra.

   

   

  Gaara fingered the soft material.  She had been interesting
  to say the least.  Normally, Gaara couldn’t stand people would stuttered and
  mumbled through their noses.  But somehow she ended up different.

   

   

  She didn’t cower and run away like he had expected her to. 
  No.  Instead she stood her ground, demanded that he tattoo her and had even
  glared back at him.

   

   

  She glared back at him!

   

   

  That alone had gained his respect.  Gaara knew he wasn’t a
  people person, nor was he that great at getting along with even after getting
  to know him.  Hell, the only two other people that he could remember that
  didn’t back down from him after getting one his glares – other than his family
  members, of course – was Sasuke and Naruto.  And that wasn’t saying much.

   

   

  One, Naruto could be considered an idiot.  Hell, the blond
  would probably try and make friends with a wild lion and not even notice the
  thing was chewing his leg off and for; two, Sasuke was a pig-headed asshole.

   

   

  Enough said.

   

   

  But her.  This Hinata girl, was timid and shy.  Not at all
  the kind of person Gaara would have expected to have the nerves to stand up to
  him.  She wouldn’t even look him in the face back at the front desk.  Even when
  he made the point to speak directly to her.

   

   

  Was it an act?

   

   

  It could have very well been just an act.  But to what
  point?  Did she not see her own beauty?

   

   

  Gaara was never really one to go into denial.  So it was
  easy to admit to himself that he was attracted to the small girl.  Who wouldn’t
  be?  Big, pale-blue eyes, pink lips, long leg, round hips, soft ivory skin that
  flushed pink just right, not to mention nicely shaped tits.

   

   

  A small chuckle escaped him at the memory of Hinata’s little
  embarrassing moment.  It was quiet the humorous situation and would probably be
  one of the few memories he could look back on with a smile.  She was pretty
  cute when all embarrassed like that.  Almost as hot as when she glared at him.

   

   

  Which brought him back to that one thought: was it an act?

   

   

  Gaara gently folded up the lacey piece of lingerie and
  tucked it into his pocket.  Deciding that it was best to just wait and find out
  the answer for himself when she came in next week for her appointment.  It
  would also give him a chance to return her forgotten bra.

   

   

  A small evil grin broke out across his face.  He couldn’t
  but wonder.  What shade she would turn this time?

   

  
  
  

   

  
  
  

   

   

  Holy crap!  I swear, I meant to get this out sooner but the
  chapter just didn’t want to end.  I finally just thought “that’s it – going to
  stop now”.  So I cut a good page or two.  But I think you guys should be good
  with 40 pages anyways.

   

  Now, as for the poll, wow.  It was close for a little while,
  but now it’s just no contest.  So I’m just going to take the poll down early
  and start the outline and basic rough draft for ‘Shinobi’.  Please don’t be mad
  because the results were a good 30 vote’s difference.  And just so everyone
  knows, I will be revealing the Mystery pairing soon enough.  But anyhow:

   

  Congratulations to the winners!!!!

   

  Kakashi/Iruka

   

  Thank you to everyone who voted.  And a special thank you to
  everyone that reviewed and rated!  Until next time!

   

  PS: In response to the private message I received a few
  weeks back, just thought I’d clear up that I’m not a hyper-active gay guy.  I’m
  a really hyper-active girl  ^_^ Ta-ta.

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