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Dark Soul	By : Shi_koi Category: Naruto Crossovers > General Views: 994 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or Stargate, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Title:
Dark Soul

Series:
Story #2. Sequel to 'Sand Walker'

Fandom:
Naruto / SG-1

Author:
Shi-koi

Warnings:
Gaara-centric, violence, blood. Normal Naruto-verse stuff. Alternate
timeline – Gaara isn't the Kazekage yet. Note the 'yet'. The
writing style changes from present to past tense in places, usually
when Gaara has to interact directly to another person during a scene,
so be prepared for that. Eventually it will have chunks from Naruto's
perspective as well, but not for a long time.

Genre:
Crossover, action/adventure, mild angst.

Pairings:
None

Summary: [Crossover] [Naruto � SG-1] Sequel to 'Sand Walker'. Set after the fight at the Valley of the End, and before the beginning of Naruto Shippuuden. This is one vision of Gaara's journey to be human.

Feedback:
Oh would you, please?

Notes:
God, when I saw six-year-old Chibi-Gaara I just wanted to wrap him up
in a great big tight hug and never let him go.

Writing
Playlist: 'Crucify My Love', 'Kurenai', 'Dahlia', 'Forever
Love', 'Tears', 'Longing ~Togireta Melody' and 'Longing
~Setsubou No Yoru' by X-Japan, 'Redefine' by Soil,
'Anywhere' by Avantasia, 'Le Ciel' and 'Beast of
Blood' by Malice Mizer and 'Nine Spiral', 'Kimi no Tameni
Dekiru Koto (7th Night)' and 'Hoshi no Suna (7th Night)' by
Gackt. From the NARUTO Best Hit Collection – 'Wind' by
Akeboshi, 'ALIVE' by Raiko, 'Ima Made Nandomo' by The
Massmissile, 'Kanashimi wo Yasashisa ni' by little by little
and 'Haruka Kanata' by Asian Kung-Fu Generation. 'Seishun
Kyousoukyoku' by Sambomaster. By Captain Straydum there are
'Northern Flower', 'Mountain a Go Go Two' and 'Yarukiresu
(Live at SHIBUYA-AX)'. There's also 'Never Forget' by
Morning Musume. Lastly, 'Tobira no Mukou He' by YeLLOW
Generation, from the Fullmetal Alchemist soundtrack.

I
don't think I'd ever have been able to write any of this series
without this music to listen to. Three kids tend to have a knack of
disturbing the mood. These songs made sure the mood and feel
of the series was never lost to me.

Translations
for certain terms are at the end of the story.

Other:
I've seen Water translated as Wave, so the term 'Water Country' can
also be read as 'Wave Country'. I'm staying with water, as the others
(fire, wind, stone, lightning and sound) suit water best in my mind.
Of course, if anyone has a better translation of the Naruto manga I'd
appreciate it.

::

Dark Soul

By
Shi-koi

::

Sunagakure (The Hidden
Village of Sand)

It's barely ten in the
morning and Gaara's covered in blood.

None of it is his.

Gaara's as happy as he
can be right now, which means he's not currently murderous. Behind
him his older brother Kankurou is dragging their middle sibling,
Gaara's elder sister Temari. Both of them are cut and scraped and
bleeding. The blood on them is theirs and their victims.

Unlike Gaara.

The guards at the gate of
their village flinch when he walks past, but Gaara ignores them. He's
used to fear. And hatred.

Kankurou takes his sister
to the hospital while Gaara stares silently at their backs. He might
have cared for them. He might not. Kankurou isn't quite sure. Gaara
hasn't killed them yet, so Kankurou is leaning towards indifferent.

Which isn't a bad thing.

When they're out of sight
Gaara starts walking. He knows Temari will have to stay in a few
nights extra, she was wounded almost to the point of death, and
Kankurou would be by her side until she recovered. Gaara doesn't know
how to show he cares with words, so he goes to take care of the
mission reports for them both.

Gaara knows they still
probably wouldn't understand.

The Kazekage sees him
instantly, despite the backlog of work he has to oversee, But then,
no-one in their right mind would dare tell Gaara of the Desert to
wait. Elite shinobi are no exception.

Gaara's been in the hall
many times. His father was the previous Kazekage, and before his
murder Gaara had been a useful tool to him – never mind the
fact that he would constantly send out agents to kill his own son,
and had been doing so since Gaara was only six.

This Kazekage is
different. He's smart enough not to rile Gaara up.

So, Gaara gives a verbal
report, and quietly comments on being displeased should his siblings
be disturbed. The Kazekage blanches along with his ANBU guards, and a
messenger is dispatched as soon as Gaara is out of sight with
instructions that Gaara's siblings be told they don't need to report
until they are both healed and well.

Gaara wonders for a
moment if Kankurou or Temari will understand this gesture.
Then decides it doesn't really matter.

::

Gaara doesn't often take
missions. He doesn't need the money. He'll accept only the 'S' class
mission offered to him simply because nothing else challenges him
enough for him to enjoy himself.

'S' class missions are
rarer than gold dust. There are few people or situations which would
need that rating. Three out of every ten shinobi on an 'S' class
mission will die.

Gaara's completed over
seventy 'S' class missions in the past three years. He's never
failed. He's never been injured.

Gaara's only sixteen.

::

Gaara has a demon inside
him.

His father wanted an
unstoppable weapon. He created Gaara.

All Gaara has ever known
is fear. Fear of him. Fear of his abilities. Fear of his demon.

Gaara called the demon
'Mother'.

::

When Gaara goes to the
Kazekage and requests time off he gets an unrestricted pass to
anywhere he wants to go. The Kazekage knows Gaara would have gone
anyway.

Gaara fills his bag up
with a few scrolls, full of useful summons like food and blankets and
a tent. He probably won't use them, but he likes having them there.
His gourd is strapped on his back as usual, his clothes clean of
blood – even though the bitter scent still lingers, and his
hitae-ate – his forehead protector engraved with the symbol
proclaiming him to be a Sand shinobi is tied around the widest strap
of the leather holding the gourd, just beside his waist.

If Gaara's hair wasn't
quite as blood a red, or his skin as milk pale he could have passed
as a desert-dweller, Until you saw his emotionless, empty, aqua-green
eyes, rimmed a thick black, as though lined with Kohl. Even though
that's natural.

He dressed like one,
acted like one and knew the laws of the desert as well as any of them
on any world.

Gaara hasn't slept. Ever.
The demon Shukaku makes him stay awake, or fear losing himself
completely.

On one of his last trips,
Gaara followed a caravan across a desert, he doesn't know which one
by name, only by how it feels, by how it calls itself. The people
were swarthy, dark, large.

Gaara doesn't act like
them. Gaara doesn't look like them.

But Gaara likes watching
them.

Gaara listens, and he
hears the travelers tell stories around their campfires, stories
about a strange boy-child and he knows he should feel affronted. It's
not his fault he's so small. But he also tastes the fear in their
words as they speak of the wraith who sometimes appears out of the
sands themselves, there one moment – gone the next.

They fear him.

Some tell of him as
though he's a God, some speak of him as a demon.

Gaara wonders idly how
many of them guess correctly.

A sandstorm is building
as Gaara leaves Sunagakure, but it doesn't touch him. There's a
bubble of air around him which the sand won't enter.

Gaara just keeps walking.

He can feel the change
around him, the song of the sands shifting note to a deeper, thicker
sound, and Gaara knows, he's not on his world any longer.

The caravan is long gone,
but Gaara knows the way now by himself, and he walks through the day,
and through the night without pause. He reaches the large sprawling
city by mid-morning and he stops on the rise of a sand dune.

The language is
different, new, and Gaara takes a moment to allow his mind to adjust
to the language.

People have started to
notice him.

A few individuals shriek.
Stories of the strange boy-child have reached the city for months,
but none believed them.

Gaara doesn't care.

The air is dry and hot.
Sunlight glints off many wares spread out on massive sheet-type rugs
on the ground, drawing the eyes. Delicious scents float on the heavy
air, tantalising, teasing.

Gaara decides he likes
them, although nothing shows on his face.

When Gaara walks into the
bustling town, people part before him, none daring to touch him or
invade his personal space. They flinch when he meets their gazes.

Gaara knows why. There's
an aura of death that surrounds him.

Sharp green eyes take in
the sights, ignoring the people. Everything is calm until someone
comes running around a corner, obviously not seeing him. People close
enough to guess at the collision wince, or gasp, or freeze.

The man trips and falls
towards Gaara.

Gaara doesn't react. Not
even when the sand lifts itself from the earth and forms a shield.

Someone screams.

Gaara ignores the sound.
He's seen something that interests him. There's pandemonium behind
him, and the stall-keeper in front of him is too terrified to move.

There's a frog, or toad,
Gaara's not too sure which, about twice the size of his fists. It's
black and orange and red and blue and coated with a clear enamel.
It's got claws, which is unusual, but the sight of the strange scroll
between them is not. Gaara likes scrolls. To someone unable to sleep,
boredom is a vindictive enemy.

The frog-toad thing
reminds him of Naruto, and Gaara is in two minds about the object.
Uzumaki Naruto isn't a friend. But he also isn't an enemy.

Gaara decides to buy it
anyway. Maybe he'll use it, maybe not, but at least the option will
be there.

The man behind the stall
is shaking, although he calms down a bit when Gaara asks in his flat
tone of voice how much the object costs. The man stutters, but
answers. He flinches a bit when a small handful of sand swirls up
into the air, even though it doesn't go near him. Gaara opens his
hand and a mismatched selection of precious and semi-precious gems
tumble out of the sand into his waiting palm.

Gaara chooses one, a
small one, and the man's eyes light up. He accepts Gaara's offer and
throws in a few other smaller objects that caught Gaara's eye.

When Gaara turns around
the streets are mostly empty down the center. The stalls are still
there, but the buyers are peering around them. They seem to relax
when no harm comes to the vendor Gaara buys his goods from and the
streets start to fill again. Most of the people are still staring
though, some with awe. More with fear.

Gaara's bag still feels
half empty, and Gaara is still curious.

He tries the food, then
goes and buys a necklace for Temari with some strange engravings on
it. It's gold and has inlays of lapis lazuli in it. Temari doesn't
often get to act like a girl, and Gaara knows she wouldn't buy
something like this for herself. But she is getting to an age where
she could find something like this nice. But because she's also a
shinobi he buys her a few of their specially designed fans, one or
two of which are bladed as an ornamentation. They probably wouldn't
be of any use in a fight, but her room is pretty bare. She could put
them on her walls.

He buys Kankurou a
handful of carefully crafted dolls. Most of them are part animal,
either their heads or their bodies. Only two are fully human. Gaara
can appreciate the craftsmanship in them and he knows Kankurou would
like them simply because dolls like this are rare. Kankurou is a
Puppet Master, just as Temari is a Wind Master, so he's certain that
these curiosities will please them.

He pushes aside the
thought that it would be worth it just to see the shock on their
faces when he gives them their gifts.

By the time Gaara has
done two complete circuits of the enormous market he has gathered
quite a large following. They stay far enough back not to bother him,
but they watch his every move avidly.

When Gaara has everything
he wants, dusk has long since fallen. He gazes up at the night sky
and decides to go home. He wants to put his treasures away. He knows
he has a long time ahead of him free, but he honestly doesn't want
the day to end. Gaara rarely has any fun, and three years ago he
would never have dreamt of simply going on an outing like he has done
today.

But then, three years ago
he was trying to eliminate every living creature off the face of the
planet...one by one.

He wonders if Naruto ever
understood just how much he changed Gaara from the inside.

Someone makes the mistake
of getting too close to Gaara and the sand rises again in warning.
Some of the crowd runs away, others take pictures, others gasp or
'Ooooh' or 'Aaaahhh' at the unintentional display.

The stars twinkle above
him and the lanterns glow gently around him. Gaara realises that he's
happy.

Gaara then realises he's
happy without having killed or shed any blood.

This scares him.

Gaara turns away and
starts to walk out of the center of the market. Still surrounded by
his audience, Gaara's sand rises into the air around him in a
twisting, terrifyingly tall whirlwind of gritty sand and dust, then
falls to the barren earth.

Gaara's gone.

::

Gaara hides his gifts in
his underground treasure room – it's over a month until
Kankurou's birthday and a little over six until Temari's.

No-one dares to ask where
Gaara went to, nor do they comment when he eats, washes himself and
his clothes and then leaves.

It's a two week walk for
most people to get to Konohagakure, the Hidden Village of the Leaf, a
good shinobi can get there after a week of constant, relentless
travel. At full speed it would still take a shinobi three days. Gaara
gets there in four days. He only walks.

His pass provided by the
Kazekage gets him in with no delays or problems, although he is asked
to meet with the Hokage the next day, if he decides to stay.

Not much has changed in
the two years since he was last in Konoha. Everything is just as the
name implies. The Leaf. Houses are mismatched and built in odd
shapes, like trees growing closely together.

Massive natural trees,
older than Konoha itself are all over the place, some with buildings
built into them. Electrical wires streak through the spaces between
the many structures, and at odd points there are balconies, signs and
even on some, seemingly inaccessible roofs, tables.

It's easy to tell this is
a shinobi village. Not many places have parks or picnic spots in
places where you have to be capable of walking up walls, or balancing
perfectly across long streams of wires in order to access them.

Gaara finds the place
refreshing, if not a bit hectic.

There's almost no sign
that Konoha is recovering from a major invasion, one that occurred
less than four years ago. One in which Gaara himself attacked from
the opposing side.

Sunagakure and
Konohagakure are allies now, formed out of a combined need. The Sand
were tricked into their alliance with Konoha's enemy, and Konoha
didn't have the resources at the time to attack the Sand.

But it's an alliance that
seems to have served both parties well.

Gaara walks through the
streets, ignoring the mutters of the few people who knew who he was.
They didn't matter. More people have no idea of who he is see the
Sand hitae-ate and look on in curiosity, but that he doesn't mind.
When evening starts to fall Gaara finds a place to rest. The hotel is
used to catering to visiting shinobi and is on the outskirts of one
of the quieter neighborhoods. They offer privacy and a whole host of
relaxing amenities, including a private bath with each room.

Konoha lights up in the
early night. There are lamps, lanterns in pretty shapes and candles
glowing softly in the open windows of the restaurants and small
scattered yattai style bars/eating areas. Gaara understands why so
many people like Konoha, it feels warm, cozy, welcoming.

Gaara really doesn't know
why he came here.

There isn't much for
Gaara to do here. He doesn't like games, or dancing, or drinking, and
much of Konoha's evening life is socially-orientated.

Gaara wonders, unsure of
what motivated him to return here, until he spots a familiar blonde
head.

The younger members of
the crowd mostly ignore the blonde, although quite a few of the older
people, those around sixteen years ago mutter obscenities at him and
glare viciously. Gaara has good hearing, and it feels strange not to
have those insults hurled at himself.

A few of the braver folks
throw things, or try to trip the small blonde up, but he ignores them
and simply smiles widely, warmly, as though he believes that none of
the hatred is aimed at him.

When he gets closer Gaara
can make out the tanned skin, a deceptively slender frame under an
atrociously loud orange outfit and then, when the blonde gets closer
still, the hauntingly blue eyes that Gaara still can't forget.

Gaara would never admit
it, but Uzumaki Naruto is stronger than him.

Naruto doesn't take
advantage of his strength.

Gaara wants to understand
why.

He can still remember
Naruto's aura, his normally blue chakra a deep terrifying crimson,
burning around him in a living flame, his previously blue eyes
slitted and a dark ruby red. The whiskers on his cheeks were blackish
gouges scarring his face and his entire countenance seemed more
animalistic than human, just as it always was when Naruto called
forth the chakra of the Kyuubi sealed inside of him. The nine-tailed
fox demon was one of the most powerful beings in creation and it is
impossible to kill him. Konoha's fourth Hokage, their precious
Yondaime was killed just to seal it inside Naruto.

Gaara can't help but
feel...glad...knowing that he's not alone, that he's not the only
monster in the world.

Naruto stops a few feet
away from Gaara and tilts his head to one side in curiosity. His face
is open and shows every emotion. There's excitement, confusion, joy,
and a fierce, deep hunger in his eyes.

Gaara recognises it. The
desire to fight against a worthy opponent.

Gaara wonders why though,
why Naruto is so quiet. He knows the blonde is the self-proclaimed
loudest ninja of the Leaf, a claim that everyone he knew agreed with,
hell, even by reputation Uzumaki Naruto was known as the number one
most annoying, loud and unpredictable ninja of the Leaf.

He was also unspoken of
as one of the most dangerous. Not because he could fight better, or
had more training, but because he was the demon-child of
Konohagakure.

The demon-child who could
destroy the world in a bath of fire and lava.

They didn't understand.
Gaara did, and he barely knew Naruto. He'd made a point of finding
out everything he could about Naruto, trying to find out why Naruto
could live the way he did, how he could live without mindless
slaughter, how he could befriend people and care for them...if Gaara
himself could do the same.

Naruto cared too much for
everyone. Even those that hated him, reviled him, abused him
unmercifully. Where Gaara killed those who dared to hurt him, Naruto
simply accepted it as his burden.

It was beyond Gaara's
ken.

But Gaara wanted to
understand.

So, when Naruto started
walking, and threw a look over one shoulder as though to ask why
Gaara wasn't following, Gaara followed. Naruto led them both a long
way into the surrounding woods before stopping in a large meadow. He
took off his bright orange jacket and took a fighting stance.

Gaara smiled. This he
understood.

::

Gaara crossed his arms as
his took in his opponent. It had been a long, long time – too
long in fact, since he'd felt this sense of anticipation. Of all the
enemies and allies he'd ever fought, only four people had drawn
blood, and only one person in existence had managed to ever defeat
him. Not even Orochimaru's subordinate had managed that, nor the
Uchiha prodigy.

But the outcast demon-boy
who loved with all his being, who fought with every last fragment of
himself, Uzumaki Naruto, had managed to completely wipe him out, even
though Gaara had freely allowed Shukaku complete control of his true
form for their battle.

Now Naruto stood across
from him in his garish bright orange trousers rolled up at the hem -
something Gaara knew only too well since they were both the same
height, although he'd learnt to slice off the excess fabric with a
sharp kunai before binding his lower half of his legs with bandages –
a black short-sleeved t-shirt and his hitae-ate tied to his head with
black fabric.

If it weren't for the
bandage lined weapons pouches and forehead protector he could have
passed for a normal civilian.

Naruto grinned at him and
dashed forward, his hands flashing in seals too fast for any ordinary
person to see and suddenly there were nearly fifty extra Naruto
shadow clones on the field, charging from every direction.

Gaara felt like smiling.
This at least was predictable.

The sand whipped to and
fro, dispatching the clones with ease. Gaara knew that this was
Naruto's way of testing Gaara's growth over the past few years, but
Gaara didn't mind, his blood was singing in his veins and he could
feel Shukaku's excitement.

A flicker of red caught
Gaara's eye and he turned just in time to prevent a chakra-lined fist
from landing, swiveling on one heel to avoid the sudden kick that was
behind Naruto's feint.

The sand swept up, but
Naruto was gone again, lost in the sea of look-a-likes.

Gaara kept his eyes on
those clones closest to him, each one wearing the same cheeky
smirk-slash-smile-slash-grin on their whisker-marked faces. Ten
rushed in suddenly, each pulling out a weapon. Tiny shuriken, larger
sharp kunai and even a few glitteringly pointed senbon flew towards
Gaara's position.

Gaara's sand came up
again to block the projectiles. Gaara turned away to scan the field
when a handful of the shuriken disappeared with a puff of smoke and
another clone took it's place, throwing another weapon. Two clones
came in low from the other side and Gaara caught sight of Naruto, a
massive 'You're done for now!' look on him and a huge
scroll in his hands.

Gaara's eyes widened. He
brought the sand up in an impenetrable sphere around himself just as
Naruto slashed open his palm and swept his bloodied hand over the
center of the scroll. He couldn't see what happened next, but the
heat that suddenly surrounded him made him choke on the air inside
the sand...which was slowly turning a murky opaque colour, as though
it was melting!

Gaara used his
transportation technique to get out of the sphere, his eyes opening
wide in disbelief as he watched from the safety of one of the trees
lining the meadow as a dark black fire slowly consumes his sand
sphere transforming it into a solid bubble of lightly opalescent
glass.

Naruto sat off to one
side, looking exhausted which was exactly how Gaara felt after losing
so much chakra-infused sand, but with a smile on his face as he felt
Gaara's chakra move from inside the sphere to safely.

Naruto gave him a short
wave before he disappeared in a swirl of wind and leaves, only to
appear next to Gaara.

His smile said it all.

Gaara didn't know what to
think. That move could have killed him if he'd stayed inside his
sand, and now that he didn't have his shield he was vulnerable to any
physical attack Naruto could throw at him.

When Naruto didn't attack
him, Gaara relaxed.

When Naruto spoke, Gaara
didn't know if he wanted to run, or smack the blonde.

::

Naruto's apartment is
small and more of a bedsit than anything else. Every available space
is taken up with little houseplants and a few sparse items which
speak volumes of Naruto's personality. There's a huge poster of the
Leaf insignia over Naruto's bed, and a calender opposite his table,
the only decorations covering the bare walls.

The only furniture in the
place beside the kitchenette is a bed, a bedside table, a small
dresser, a small wardrobe and a table big enough for two people with
two wooden chairs – and many erratically placed whimsical
little shelves dotting the bare walls.

Gaara would have wondered
about where Naruto entertained guests if he'd been anyone else –
or if his eyes hadn't caught the numerous scrubbed ink stains on the
open area of the floor. Naruto obviously studied and worked harder
than most people thought. His own sources stated that Naruto trained
extensively in the outside fields, but lacked any note-worthy book or
scroll instruction.

Gaara tries not to think
about what else isn't known about Naruto. How many more secrets he
holds.

A small doll rests on the
windowsill beside Naruto's bed, a doll that looks very familiar.
Gaara frowns when he stares at it, wondering why the man who taught
Uchiha Sasuke to counter Gaara's moves would be represented in a
cute, obviously hand-made plushie doll. If the man had been Naruto's
Team instructor, Naruto would have been training with him and the
Uchiha prodigy.

When Gaara finds the
pictures beside Naruto's bed he understands.

Naruto was betrayed
twice. Where the renowned Uchiha prodigy had personal tutoring by
their supposed instructor, Naruto found his own way to become strong.
Naruto defeated the infamous Sabaku no Gaara, where not even the
Uchiha could do more than annoy and wound insignificantly.

Naruto is dangerous, and
obviously determined as well as strong. Gaara is pleased.

When Gaara has taken in
all of the small apartment, he joins Naruto in the kitchen area and
watches as Naruto makes a tray of green tea. He finds it funny when
Naruto scowls angrily at the water when it burns him, then at the
powdered tea when he drops a bit too much and it spills, then as he
accidentally knocks the cups and the tray almost overturns.

It's hard to reconcile
the terrifyingly powerful shinobi with the clumsy boy in the kitchen
trying to make tea. Gaara can tell Naruto doesn't get many guests.

When the tea is done,
Naruto carries it to the open space on the floor and places it down
carefully, motioning for Gaara to stay where he was. When Naruto
reaches under his bed and pulls out two comfy-looking floor cushions
and places them at opposite sides of the tray, Gaara stares. Both of
them are made from mismatched pieces of fabric, and should have
looked terrible with all the bright oranges, yellows and reds, but
somehow they looked...inviting. In the center of each cushion, in a
slightly darker coloured red, lined with multi-coloured blue thread,
was a single spiral, obviously sewn in carefully, the same spiral
that Naruto added to all of his clothes.

Gaara doesn't know if it
would be rude to ask, but he wonders then if Naruto made his own
clothes too. He certainly hasn't ever seen anywhere sell clothes
quite like the ones Naruto wears. The t-shirts and regular ninja
sandals are normal enough though, and Gaara decides not to ask. He
doesn't like it when people try to pry into his life, so he won't do
it to someone he wants as a friend.

Naruto pours out the tea
and they sit in silence as they both drink it, Gaara watching Naruto
as he sits there, staring into the pale green liquid as though
contemplating the universe.

A strange look of
consternation comes over Gaara's face after an hour and a half of
complete silence. As nice as it is to not feel pressured into having
to speak, this quiet didn't suit the usually loud-mouthed ninja.

Gaara spoke first.
“Uzumaki Naruto.” He watched as Naruto flinched.

When Naruto looked up his
blue eyes were wide and guileless and as welcoming as the summer sky.

Three years ago Gaara
would have been fooled.

Three years ago Gaara
wouldn't have cared.

This wasn't three years
ago.

“That look doesn't
suit you.” Gaara said quietly.

Naruto's face seemed to
fall, then he became pensive. “Most people wouldn't have seen
it.”

Gaara doesn't need to
ask. He knows what Naruto means. He can't help but feel vindicated.

“You've changed,
Gaara.” Naruto says after a few more minutes of quiet.

Gaara inclined his head.
“I have precious people now.” Gaara states, as though
that explains everything. To Naruto, it does.

Naruto smiles. This time
it's real and Gaara feels dwarfed by it's brilliance. He wants to be
able to smile like that.

“Precious people?”
Naruto asks, then answers himself. “Your brother and sister.
Right?”

Gaara nods.

“Good.”

Gaara can feel a question
on the tip of his tongue. Where are your precious people, Naruto?
But he can't bring himself to ask. Something made Naruto change,
but somehow he gets the feeling that Naruto has managed to hide the
changes from everyone.

He wonders if he should
feel this...pleased, that Naruto is letting him see behind his
smiles.

“So. Why did you
come here?” Naruto asks, after taking another sip of his now
cool tea.

Gaara shrugs. “I
like to travel.” He pauses, uncertain about something. Naruto
just waits patiently and Gaara doesn't know if he feels pleased by
his patience, or un-nerved by his unusual behaviour.

Naruto looks wistful. “I
like to travel too.”

“Why can't you?”
Gaara asks. Naruto is a good ninja, and loyal to Konoha. All shinobi
get periods of time off, and Naruto, as a Chuunin, should have had a
good amount of free time in-between missions.

Naruto just shrugs his
shoulders then lets them drop, refusing to meet Gaara's eyes.

“Naruto.”
Gaara's tone is dark. He knows he's missing something.

Naruto lifts his head,
but refuses to meet Gaara's sharply assessing eyes. “I'm not
allowed out of the village without an escort of Chuunin or higher
including, but not excepting all team missions.” Naruto states
flatly. “It's for my own safety, since the Akatsuki are still
after me.”

Gaara snorts. “Bullshit.”

Naruto's head flashes
back so fast Gaara thinks Naruto may have concussed himself. “What?!”
He chokes out in a strangled voice.

Gaara smiles. Naruto
looks like he ate a particularly sour lemon.

“The Akatsuki can
get you any time, any place, and not even a team of elite ANBU would
be able to stop them.” Gaara says, his voice brooking no
arguments. He doesn't like it when Naruto seems to curl into himself,
as though this isn't new to him.

“What's the real
reason?” Gaara asks.

“The Council are
getting pissy.” Naruto finally replies, seemingly undisturbed
at sharing private news with a shinobi not from his village.

“Why?”

Naruto studies Gaara for
a while, staring at him as though looking for something. He sighs
eventually, then strips off the top half of his clothes.

There's a red glow coming
from Naruto's navel, and Gaara realises this is the seal the Kyuubi
is behind. The skin around Naruto's stomach seems paler against the
warm light constantly being emitted. The seal itself is a good five
inches across, it spreads out two and a half inches from his navel in
a circle and is made from a spiral covered with an intricate
interwoven pattern. It looks extremely complex and was obviously
designed by a master.

“The Kyuubi?”

Naruto nods. “Yeah.
The Council are insisting that the fox is going to break out at any
time. I think they want me close so they can assassinate me.
Tsunade-baa-chan is the only thing stopping them.”

“The Hokage?”

“Yeah. She's sort
of adopted me as a little brother, but even she can't rescind the
rules the Council laid down.” Naruto looks angry for a moment,
then just...sad. “I can't keep going like this. Pretty soon I'm
not going to be able to make enough money to afford to keep myself.
I'm lucky that old man Sandaime paid for the apartment for me...but I
still have to eat.”

When Naruto laughs this
time it's brittle and fed up. “I think they're planning on
killing me slowly.”

“What about your
friends?” Gaara knows Naruto has a tendency of making friends
easily, and usually surprisingly loyal ones. Gaara includes himself
in them.

“I'm not going to
beg for help.” Naruto's face reddens, out of embarrassment, not
anger.

“Aa.” Gaara
knows when Naruto says it. He would just quietly expire rather than
burden his friends.

“You're stupid.”
Gaara states.

“What?”
Naruto pales, then goes almost purple.

Gaara pours himself some
tea, heating it with his chakra. “You're stupid,” he says
again, taking a sip of the now hot tea.

“I – you –
wha...” Naruto deflates and runs a hand tiredly through his
blonde spikes. “I give up. There's no making any heads or tails
with you, is there?”

Gaara sits back on the
cushion a bit further. He props his arm up on one raised knee and
stares at Naruto with narrowed eyes. “I used to be jealous of
you,” he says finally.

Naruto blinks at him, his
forehead scrunching up at the sudden change in topic. “Eh?”

“I thought I was
unbeatable. You defeated me. At first I was angry, but you said that
you fought for your precious people.” Gaara paused, weighing
his words. “I lived only for myself. Loved only myself. I
thought that was the only way to stay strong.” Gaara frowned,
gazing into his cup. “You shattered everything I thought I
knew.”

“I'm...sorry?”
Naruto looked confused.

Gaara shook his head.
“That's not what I mean. You've had a past as bad as I, and yet
you went out and tried to make it better. You made friends, comrades
and allies. I made enemies. I couldn't figure you out. I still can't.
You're the only person I feel like I can talk too...even my siblings
don't stay around me long enough to carry on a conversation...and
there's always the scent of fear around them.”

Gaara looked up, pinning
Naruto with his cool green gaze. “You don't fear me.”

“I don't?”
Naruto thought about this. “I guess...after our fight, you just
didn't seem so terrible.”

“Yet every time we
met before that battle you were so terrified you couldn't move.”
Gaara said slowly. “Even during our battle, you were unable to
do anything but shake until I hurt your friends.”

“Then...”

“You were not
afraid as long as you were fighting for another. You didn't care
about yourself. That's why you aren't scared now. You know you can
fight me, and probably win. You have no one around that I can hurt to
make you back off, and even if I did, you would only fight harder to
save them.”

Naruto snorted then
looked away, crossing his arms. “You make it sound like I don't
give a shit about myself.”

Gaara sent a piercingly
even look at him. “Do you?”

Naruto stood up so fast
he knocked over his cold cup of tea. He retreated back to his small
kitchenette and paced back and forth, muttering quiet obscenities.

Gaara just sipped his own
drink again, ignoring the burn of Naruto's eyes on him.

“I don't know what
the hell your problem is Gaara, but I sure as hell don't need you
preaching to me about caring for yourself, or have you forgotten how
you lived, eh?”

“At least I
made the effort to change. You're just giving up, aren't you?”
Gaara raised his head and slanted a condescending flicker and then
dismissal with his eyes towards Naruto. “Uzumaki Naruto, the
most determined shinobi of the Leaf...a quitter,” Gaara
scoffed.

“Fuck you.”
Naruto ground out, the words sticking in his throat. “I should
rip your fucking entrails out of your body and dance on them.”

Gaara snorted loudly.
“Oh? Are you planning on taking my place? Planning on becoming
a true monster?”

Naruto ground his jaw and
clenched his hands so hard the skin of his palms split under his
suddenly sharpening nails. The wounds healed seconds after they
formed, leaving only the few drops of blood that escaped a testament
to his anger. “I am not a monster.”

“Tell me, Naruto,
just how accurate are the Council? Is the Kyuubi influencing
your actions? How much of it's rage are you experiencing? How much of
it's lust, it's thirst for destruction, for blood? How long have you
been trying to suppress it's instincts?”

“I have no idea
what you mean.” Naruto said flatly. “Not that it's any of
your business. I don't owe you anything.”

“No, you don't, do
you?” Gaara mused.

“Dammit Gaara! What
the hell do you want from me? What do you want me to say? Do you want
me to tell you how fucked up I am? I already know it! I know I go
around shouting about friendship and loving people and wanting to
help everyone...but that I can't accept help for myself! I already
know this!”

Naruto looked away, his
hands coming up to slowly stroke the Leaf hitae-ate on his forehead.
Naruto untied it slowly, bringing it down and staring at the slightly
knocked metal.

Naruto's voice lowered, a
note of sorrow threading through it. “I know I'm quick to offer
help, but never one to accept it. I never had much of a choice,
Gaara. If I dared ask for help when I was younger it always made
things worse. The villagers, they – they could smell
weakness, they knew without saying anything to each other how
they could hurt me. If I dared ask for help...every time...I always
lived to regret it. Old habits die hard.”

“That was then,
Naruto. You were young. Weak. Alone. Are you still that child?”
Gaara asked quietly.

“No. Not that it
matters. I'll make my way on my own strength. I'll help myself and
not go scrounging from other people. I have to be strong,
Gaara! Admitting that I can't make enough money to eat, admitting
that I'm less than human...I can't do that Gaara. My friends, they're
the only ones who haven't looked at me with cold eyes, eyes that
scream out with hatred and fear. I can't give them up. I can't!”

“You are an
absolute fool, Naruto! You have what I'd give my right arm for! You
have people who would worry about you if you'd let them, you have
people who care for you, people who would love to be a part of
your life – if you would let them in!”

“I can't!”

“You're scared!”
Gaara shouted, his voice becoming shrill. “You're terrified and
you're stupid and you're going to end up dead and alone from
something idiotic! You're not worthy of becoming Hokage Naruto. You
don't fucking deserve it!”

“You're a fucking
bastard, you know that?” Naruto snarled, his back to Gaara, his
fists clenched so hard his nails started to pierce the skin.

Gaara's eyes darkened.
“YOU made me this way, Uzumaki Naruto. Because of you
I had to find out who and what I was all over again. Because of you
I have no peace. Because of you! I can't talk to anyone
because they are terrified of me, and I never used to care about
that, but you had to fucking damn well shred me apart!”

Small grains of sand
began to form in the air, circling Gaara, who stood slowly, his tea
placed gently on the floor.

Naruto backed up a step,
a blue glow interspersed with red flickering around him.

“Why did you come
here then if you hate me so much?” Naruto ground out, his every
muscle tensed from Gaara's unintentional display. Even without his
gourd, Gaara was dangerous.

“I thought you
could understand me. I thought you could help me.” Gaara said,
still standing on the other side of the room.

“How?” This
time, when he spoke, Naruto seemed lost. The glow around him
intensified, slowly turning a soothing violet – if you ignored
the restrained violence it represented. “I can't even help
myself.”

“Naruto. Where are
your precious people?”

::

Tbc...

::
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