Categories > Anime/Manga > Naruto > If Only
Demon's Laugh
1 reviewHe is Gaara no Subaku. Psychopath, killer, and unable to sleep. (Total fluff)
0Unrated
Author's Note: I got the image in my head. It made me laugh. Now I love Gaara, and think he's all kinds of bad ass, but, let's face it, Shukaku's always had more control over Gaara's abilities than Gaara has.
This is set pre-chunnin exams, but after Gaara was declared a worthy assassination target. Yet it is total fluff. Why? Because young Gaara is like pie. Evil, but cute.
...
He is Gaara no Subaku. Psychopath, killer, host of Shukaku, unable to sleep, and a million other things besides. His very glance scares his own siblings, let alone people who don’t know him. But it doesn’t matter. They don’t truly care, he knows. He walks the empty corridors of the Kazekage’s office at night, a red haired ghost, and people scurry out of his way. Sometimes he has blood mixing in the sand that floats around him. Sometimes he doesn’t. Tonight he has a towel bunched in tight, pale hands, and no one has stopped to look him in the eyes yet.
He does see Temari, coming down the hall. She stops, and watches him turn down a staircase. He hears her sigh float down after him. Cold annoyance courses through his veins. If she is there when he returns he assumes she’ll try to kill him, too. She was always Father’s favorite. Kankuro was hustled off to the puppeteers, and Gaara gets to avoid monthly attempts on his life at his father’s orders, but Temari is allowed to stay with the family, and be trained as a geinin under Father’s right hand man. Of course Temari is the favorite. He doesn’t worry. The sand will protect him. Sand protects him from everything.
Stone gives way to wood as he walks down the stairs. Wood that is a little warped from the moisture that begins to billow up, slapping him in the face with welcoming warmth. Like all ninja who understand that nin dogs can be a shinobi’s best friend if you smell, the people of Suna are fanatical about bathing. Gaara, murderous eyes and all, is no different. Shukaku may protect him from everything, but you never know. You never know. The best kept secret of Suna, he thinks, is the underground bath houses. The heat and steam of the hidden oasis. And he turns to step into the shower.
Five minutes later, Gaara is scowling foully at the side of a wall, as Temari snickers. Shukaku protects him from everything. Everything. She hands him a new towel, and takes the mud drenched one away. Gaara carefully wipes his face again.
“I knew this was going to happen. Just once,” she says, dumping the towel into the pile of mud soaked cloth with a rude splat, “would it kill you to remember not to use the shower? Bathing pools aren’t designed to hurtle projectiles at your skin.”
“Nrrrrrgrahhhhhhhh!” Gaara would kill her, only the sand has become too heavy to move. One day he is going to get full control of Shukaku, and they are going to have a long talk about what constitutes dangerous. And then he is going to have a long, hot shower without his shield getting in the way. When Temari is finished, he sinks into the nearest bathing pool, the water coming up to the bottom of his black rimmed eyes, and he sulks in silence until Temari leaves. Can’t he even have a normal shower without the demon fudging things up for him? And he thought that raccoons liked things clean.
Only to eat them, Shukaku chuckles, before bursting out in irrepressible laughter. Besides, you deserve mud in your hair for not being a good boy, and going to sleep when I tell you to.
“Nrrrrrrgrahhhhhhh!”
He is Gaara no Subaku. Psychopath, murderer, and a muddy little boy. His inner demon doesn’t even take him seriously.
This is set pre-chunnin exams, but after Gaara was declared a worthy assassination target. Yet it is total fluff. Why? Because young Gaara is like pie. Evil, but cute.
...
He is Gaara no Subaku. Psychopath, killer, host of Shukaku, unable to sleep, and a million other things besides. His very glance scares his own siblings, let alone people who don’t know him. But it doesn’t matter. They don’t truly care, he knows. He walks the empty corridors of the Kazekage’s office at night, a red haired ghost, and people scurry out of his way. Sometimes he has blood mixing in the sand that floats around him. Sometimes he doesn’t. Tonight he has a towel bunched in tight, pale hands, and no one has stopped to look him in the eyes yet.
He does see Temari, coming down the hall. She stops, and watches him turn down a staircase. He hears her sigh float down after him. Cold annoyance courses through his veins. If she is there when he returns he assumes she’ll try to kill him, too. She was always Father’s favorite. Kankuro was hustled off to the puppeteers, and Gaara gets to avoid monthly attempts on his life at his father’s orders, but Temari is allowed to stay with the family, and be trained as a geinin under Father’s right hand man. Of course Temari is the favorite. He doesn’t worry. The sand will protect him. Sand protects him from everything.
Stone gives way to wood as he walks down the stairs. Wood that is a little warped from the moisture that begins to billow up, slapping him in the face with welcoming warmth. Like all ninja who understand that nin dogs can be a shinobi’s best friend if you smell, the people of Suna are fanatical about bathing. Gaara, murderous eyes and all, is no different. Shukaku may protect him from everything, but you never know. You never know. The best kept secret of Suna, he thinks, is the underground bath houses. The heat and steam of the hidden oasis. And he turns to step into the shower.
Five minutes later, Gaara is scowling foully at the side of a wall, as Temari snickers. Shukaku protects him from everything. Everything. She hands him a new towel, and takes the mud drenched one away. Gaara carefully wipes his face again.
“I knew this was going to happen. Just once,” she says, dumping the towel into the pile of mud soaked cloth with a rude splat, “would it kill you to remember not to use the shower? Bathing pools aren’t designed to hurtle projectiles at your skin.”
“Nrrrrrgrahhhhhhhh!” Gaara would kill her, only the sand has become too heavy to move. One day he is going to get full control of Shukaku, and they are going to have a long talk about what constitutes dangerous. And then he is going to have a long, hot shower without his shield getting in the way. When Temari is finished, he sinks into the nearest bathing pool, the water coming up to the bottom of his black rimmed eyes, and he sulks in silence until Temari leaves. Can’t he even have a normal shower without the demon fudging things up for him? And he thought that raccoons liked things clean.
Only to eat them, Shukaku chuckles, before bursting out in irrepressible laughter. Besides, you deserve mud in your hair for not being a good boy, and going to sleep when I tell you to.
“Nrrrrrrgrahhhhhhh!”
He is Gaara no Subaku. Psychopath, murderer, and a muddy little boy. His inner demon doesn’t even take him seriously.
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