***
3 and a half years later
***
A red haired girl ran through narrow alleyways, leaping over random things as she barreled through. Three men ran in pursuit, chasing her as she ducked into a network of alleyways behind the buildings.
She leaped over a little boy, ducked between a man’s legs, and got cornered in a dead end. Looking warily behind her at the men that followed her, she backed up to the wall.
The men walked up to her, looming over her small frame.
“Hmph! It was a good idea to pose as her new trainer a couple of weeks before the real one arrived and try to get her first. She’ll be easy to kill.”
At this, the girl’s eyes narrowed just the teeniest bit, but she opened them wide again, trying her best to look cute and innocent.
“Oh dear sir! What do you mean, this talk of killing? Horrible, horrible thing to talk about. Come, let us go back and have a tea party.”
“Oh, we’ll have a tea party alright, little girl. You can have one in Hell.” The man raised a knife in front if him and brought it down upon the girl. Ducking nimbly, she stepped forward and grabbed his shirt contemptuously, bringing him down to eyes level with surprising strength.
“How are you supposed to be my trainer if I can kill you,” she made her substance go loose and pushed her other hand through his body so that it emerged from the other side and waved at the other two men.
“as easy as 1-2-3?”
She made her molecules as hard as rock, blasting the man’s innards, and throwing blood all over her.
Throwing his lifeless body aside,, she jumped over it and flipped in the air landing in front of the next man.
As he rushed her, she jumped up, and whirled, throwing a kunai knife at him which he easily dodged. Landing in a crouch, she jumped up and flipped over him, grabbing his enormous sword from his back and slashing it across the other man’s front. Blood spurted from the wound, and she let him fall.
As he fell, she whirled around, and face the one whose sword she had filched. He was glaring at her, and ran forward, pulling three kunai from his weapons pouch.
Aoki fell to her knees, suddenly feeling weak, just as the man threw his kunai. One grazed her shoulder, but the others missed. He strode forward and picked her up by the neck, beginning to squeeze, planting a smug smirk upon his face.
Desperately, she made her arm go through his, and hardened her molecule’s quickly. The man screamed in pain as a hole appeared in his arm, and Aoki, strength refound, slipped from his grasp, and killed him.
Massaging her neck tenderly, she glared at the dead man.
“Pah. Wow, you got a strike in! Congrats. If I hadn‘t felt weak I could‘ve killed you easy.” Aoki said, wiping the sword with grass ripped from the ground. She leaned over him and slid the sword back into it’s sheath. “Are you really Chunin?” she asked, addressing the dead men nonchalantly.
Aoki removed a hanky from her pocket and wiped her bloody hands in it, and then looked at her wound. Seeing that it was really shallow, she bound it with the hanky.. She looked ruefully at her now blood red clothing.
“Ugh. You ruined my new shirt! Why can’t you guys just leave us alone? I can kill you easy, so why do you insist on coming and dying?”
Aoki rolled her eyes and muttered to herself. “Wow, not talking to people is making me loony. I’m talking to dead people!”
She jumped up onto a nearby roof, and raced off across the roofs to the apartment she and Gaara stayed in.
---Aoki---
As I raced across the rooftops, I wondered what to make for lunch. I sighed. I had been making lunch when those guys attacked me. They had showed up at the front door, saying they were my trainers, and that the Kazekage had ordered them to train me. Then, when I was cooking, they attacked me.
As I raced to get away, I knocked over the pot of curry I had been mixing. Boy would I have a mess to clean up when I got back.
Stinking tutors. More like Assassins/Tutors. They’d probably thought that I’d be an easy target since I was just a 9 year old girl.
Idiots.
Now they’re dead Idiots.
Hmm, well I had gleaned some info from them. I was going to get a tutor in the next week or so. I guess the Kazekage thinks that he might as well train me so that I can do his dirty work.
Plus, I don’t go to the Academy, so someone needs to teach me.
And I ‘am’ his kid. He had a responsibility, you know.
Gaara (lucky guy) obviously doesn’t need any training.
I went back in through a window, and went to the kitchen to clean up the mess. I didn‘t want to get all dirty again after bathing.
As I went to my bedroom to grab a change of clothes, I passed Gaara. His arms were crossed, and he was leaning against the wall. He looked pointedly at my wound and the blood and I grinned, saying, “The so called “tutors” tried to kill me. I killed them instead, and I barely broke a sweat! What pushovers.”
Gaara looked at me with his chilly eyes, and said, “Why were you wounded?”
He knows that I’m not easy to get a hold of, even if I’m not in battle mode.
I pawed through my clothes, removing some long loose jeans, a long-sleeved purple shirt and ignored his question.
“I’m taking a bath. Would you mind making lunch?”
At that, I’m pretty certain the smallest trace of panic crossed his face, and I almost laughed.
(Gaara’s panic is so hard to see, that a microscope can’t catch it! Only I can.)
I grabbed a towel, the first aid kit, and some underwear, and went into the bathroom.
After a refreshing shower, and after I washed my clothes and hung them out to dry, I went into the kitchen. I knew Gaara would never be caught dead wearing an apron, but it’s always good to hope isn’t it?
To my extreme disappointment, he was already done making lunch, and done eating it too! I grabbed a sandwich (talk about quick and easy lunch!) and went over to open some letters. One of them was from the Kazekage. I opened that first.
“Gaara and Aoki,” I read aloud. “What, no ‘Dear’?” I muttered.
I resumed reading.
“ This Tuesday, you both are expected to come to Building No. 3 to meet your older siblings, Kankuro and Temari. Wow, what a short letter. Tuesday is in two days. I wonder how they’ll be like?”
Gaara didn’t answer. Hmph. It’s surprising I don’t die with boredom, what with all this ‘interesting’ conversation going on.
I rolled my eyes, and plopped down in front of Gaara. I narrowed my emerald eyes and met his jade ones.
“Gaara,” I began sweetly, making my eyes wide and innocent again. “Would you mind training with me? Pretty please? I lied today, tone of them almost got me, and I need to train a bit more. Pleease? You don’t have anything else to do.”
He frowned and said , “ Alright.”
I grinned and reached out and put my fingers against the side of his mouth, trying to shape it into a smile. (most people would call this an attempted suicide.)
“You should smile more. You’d look cuter.”
He glared at me, and his sand rose up to swat my hand away. I made my hand insubstantial, and the sand went through it like it was not there. The sand rose to surround my body, before I could make that insubstantial too.
The sand covered my entire body, and some more flew from Gaara’s gourd.
I struggled uselessly against the sand, and yelled, “Uncle, Uncle! And that means I give up!” as he squeezed a little.
As the sand dropped from me and poured back into the guard, I fell to my knees, brushing the sand off me.
“Can’t you practice Sand Coffin on someone else?” I complained.
---Gaara---
Gaara looked at Aoki as she dropped to her knees, and brushed his sand off.
“Can’t you practice Sand coffin on someone else?” she complained loudly.
Gaara turned around and walked to the door, ignoring her as she ran up to him, her previous anger immediately forgotten.
“Let’s go!” she yelled, punching her arm in the air.
Gaara looked at his sister as chattered on and on about something or the other. Always chattering incessantly about this and that, not even taking a break for a breath. When she went inside of him she was much more quitter than this. Gaara suddenly thought of something.
For a veeery long amount of time Aoki had not recharged (meaning gone inside of Gaara.)
Gaara said, “Why have you not recharged in such a long while.” making the question sound more like a statement.
Aoki looked at him guiltily, and said, “Oh, you noticed? I’m just trying an experiment. I’m seeing how long I can stay away from you without any ill affects. Sometimes I have weak spells, but those only last for a second. It’s been 34 days already!”
Gaara glanced at his sister, wondering whether she had gotten hurt because of one of those weak spells, then stiffened suddenly. His sand rose up, and blocked a kunai knife that had been heading towards his throat. She glanced at it as it clattered to the floor of the living room, then suddenly grabbed Gaara’s hand, pulled the hood of her jacket over her head, and raced out of a nearby window, hauling him along. She let go of his hand during the descent, and landed in a crouch on the floor. Gaara landed upon his sand, and turned around. His sand deflected a few kunai, and reached up to grab the ninja (in midair) who had thrown them.
Gaara’s eyes alighted with bloodthirsty pleasure, and he held out a hand and crushed into a fist. “Sand coffin!”
Blood dripped from the sand, and Gaara opened his fist, letting it slide back into the guard. Aoki stood up and commented dryly, “Well that’s one way to practice. Good thing you didn’t do that inside. What a mess that would‘ve made!”
---Aoki---
I glanced at Gaara. Oh joy. That stupid assassin just ‘had’ to go and make Gaara all bloodthirsty, didn’t he? Now I have to be extra quick when training.
I looked around. On the right, the desert stretched miles on end, and on the left was the village. I pulled the hood low over my head, and raced over to our private training spot. When I arrived there, Gaara was already there. He whipped his sand towards me, and our training session officially began.
***
Whump!
I lay back in the sand, panting loudly. Gaara stood over me. I grinned up at him.
“I’ll-huff-get to the house in a -puff- minute, Gaara. You-huff- can go on -puff- ahead.”
Gaara nodded and left. I lay in the sand, as the sun sank beneath the earth, and it became dark, thinking… And getting my breath back.
I looked up at the starry sky. It was beautiful.
On that day- so long ago, when I was five and Yashamaru-….passed away,
I had had the theory that I had control over molecules. Over the years that idea had faded gently, as I tried several experiments on rocks and plants.
I came to another theory, the theory that I had control over the molecule’s of my own body.
To find out more about cells, and molecules, I’d visited the library (wearing a large jacket with a hood, of course).
Some of the stuff was actually interesting. I learned a lot about cells, and got a lot of theories. One theory I’d had was, What if I could harden my molecules to resist damage? (This had come after a long amount of studying.)
I’d tested it out and I remember the results.
First, I’d focused on my hand, trying to make my molecules harder and more stronger. I practiced this for a couple of days, until I was a pro at it. Soon, I could make any part of my body harder and stronger. I decided to call this SM, Stronger Molecules. (if it’s unimaginative, don’t blame me, I was seven.)
Then, I tried to figure out a way to use this in battle. I tried punching and kicking walls and such, but this didn’t work for me. I’m small and light, and I don’t have the strength or stamina to do such things and keep that up for long. So, I had to devise a style of fighting for myself.
I thought for a long time and soon devised the method of fighting I had used in the fight before. I’d make my substance go loose (no other way to explain it…) and put my hand through something, then quickly make my substance super hard so that my hand would make a hole in the something.
First, I tried this out on soft objects, like pillows and mattresses. ( I ruined so many pillows, Gaara locked me in a room with all of them and a needle and thread. When angry or irritated with me, Gaara sure can come up with creative solutions…)
Then I stupidly tried it out on a tree branch. It took ‘forever’ to get the splinters out. But, that incident gave me some insight on what would happen if I used this in a fight with someone and I wasn’t ready.
My hand would most certainly get mangled.
I trained hard and long, trying different things, until I finally mastered it! That was a long time ago. Now, I’m working on a new theory. What if I could speed up the process of mitosis* ( cell division: the process by which a cell divides into two daughter cells, each of which has the same number of chromosomes as the original cell), and heal myself when I got hurt?
I sat up, and removed a kunai from my pouch. I carefully slit the palm of my hand, and concentrated, closing my eyes. I felt something cool run down my palm, and I opened my eyes and gasped in horror. The wound had widened, when before it had been just a centimeter, it had doubled in size and depth.
Blood rushed from my palm, but I held a scrap of cloth to it until it stopped.
This had been a bad idea. I would never try it again.
I got to my feet, and stretched. It was really late. The moon was full. It shone so big and bright in the distance, my heart soared for some reason. It was dark, and the wind rustled across the sand dunes, and whirled around me, whispering in my ear. I closed my eyes, and listened to the strange song of the desert.
After a while, I snapped out of it, and saying a mental farewell to my most favorite place in the world, I ran lightly to the sand village, eager to get back and… EAT!
I did some acrobatic flips, and removed a kunai knife and threw it at a dead stump, a long while in front of me. When I arrived, I saw that it had hit dead center and I grinned.
I snatched it up, and resumed my way back to the village. Soon, I was jumping roof from roof. On one I stopped and caught my breath. I looked into a nearby window, and caught my breath. It was a child’s birthday. The whole room was decorated with balloon’s, and in the middle of the table sat a huge cake. The child whose birthday was being celebrated was laughing at a joke one of his friends had made and raised the knife ready to cut the cake.
I looked away, not wanting to spy (too late) and I felt sad. I had no idea why.
Shrugging it off, I was about to go ahead, but then I felt something grab me around my waist.
Caught by surprise, I turned around to look at my attacker.
He was huge, a giant of a man, obviously not one of the village’s ninja. His body was large and muscular, and fat, and his dull eyes looked me over.
“So this is the one none of the Chunin can, kill, hmm? Why not send Jonin I wonder.” A deep gruff voice emanated from his lips, and I flinched.
I had often thought that. Why not send Jonin? They could easily kill me. But I knew the answer to that question. If they killed me Gaara would kill them. Every single one of them, with ought mercy. He would probably set the Shukaku loose.
I brought my mind back to my predicament, preparing to loosen my substance, and slip through his hands.
Suddenly, he tightened his hands, and I gasped.
“Oh, no, little girl. I wouldn’t want you to escape. I wonder how much the Kazekage will give me if I break your ribs and bring you in front of him in a platter.”
He squeezed harder, and I focused on hardening my molecules around my stomach. If I tried to loosen my substance, he would kill me.
He squeezed harder, and a jolt of pain shot through me. Ah, there would be a nasty bruise there in the morning. I concentrated harder. He squeezed harder. I screamed.
---Gaara--
Gaara looked at the kitchen appliances with distaste. Aoki was late. He’d have to make dinner.
Gaara flicked his sand at the window, opening it.
Suddenly, he heard something that made him freeze. A scream. Aoki.
Without a sound, he leaped to the window, and jumped out. What had that idiot girl gotten into know? She hadn’t needed saving from him since they were little. She’d been practicing so hard, that she had become perfectly able to take care of herself.
Gaara raced across the rooftops, and his jade eyes narrowed. Whoever had hurt his sister would be fun to practice a new technique on.
---Aoki---
I gathered every ounce of strength I had in my body, and made my stomach as hard as I could.
Muscles (let’s call him that) squeezed harder and harder, but he couldn’t do anything.
My breath began to come in short gasps. Remember what I said about not having enough stamina to hold this really long? *sigh* I’m going to have to work on that.
Suddenly, I saw Gaara behind the guy holding me, and my eyes met his. His eyes were sharp and slightly bloodthirsty. Slightly might be an understatement. I smiled in relief and closed my eyes, trying not to slip into unconsciousness.
---Gaara--
Gaara landed noiselessly behind the man holding Aoki, and made eye contact with her. She smiled at him, and closed her eyes. Gaara let his sand gently surround the muscular man’s neck. He squeezed, and the man dropped Aoki, who landed on her head and let out an indignant “Ow!”
The Muscled man had simply become unconscious at Gaara’s attack, and he jumped up, and swirled.
He glared. “I’ll kill you, child.”
Suddenly, his eyes widened as sand completely trapped him, holding his hands and legs.
Aoki stepped forward and glared at the man. She slapped him, and said, “I hope you realize your folly. My brother‘s anger is something you don‘t want.”
She then turned to Gaara, and asked sweetly, “Gaara, you may do with him what you want, but could you do it away from here? I’ll go back to the house.”
Gaara nodded curtly, and leaped away, taking the terrified man with him.
-*)_(*-
The Jonin stared at the carcass of the man in shock.
The man had a terrible expression upon his face, and his neck was broken. Upon closer inspection, it was seen that the man’s ribs had been broken, and he lay upon a plate drenched with his own blood.
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Chapter notes: Hey everyone! Thanks for reviewing, Miki Everless and Bre2k8!
And also, Crazykittylover ( who was my no. one reviewer before I deleted this thing ( along with Bre2k8) ).
Alright! So, on to putting up all my chaps! Hope you like this one!
And, PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!
Arigato, Shukran, THANK YOU!!!! :)
for even bothering to read this story!
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