Disclaimer: No of course I do not own Naruto (or sadly Gaara) just my own character Ren

Note: This chapter is set right after Gaara attempted to give that girl the bag of medicine

What is wrong with these guys? What's their deal, why do they hate me so much? I groaned as yet another kick sent pain shooting through my ribs. Lying on the ground, being kicked repeatedly was certainly not my idea of fun, but apparently doing it was fun for these little bastards because whenever I saw them it inevitable ended with me bruised and bleeding.

Being an orphan on the streets of Suna was tough, even tougher if you refused to become part of the "gang" that ruled the streets. There was a small group of displaced kids, my age and older, that had banded together, going with the moto of "there's safety in numbers." If you were an orphan that's where you went, but I refused to join. I didn't really get along with them, they were a bunch of jackasses, and I didn't approve of the way they did things.

They didn't like that.

"Damnit" I cursed under my breath as one of them managed to get passed my meager defenses and land a powerful kick to my gut that knocked the breath right out of me, leaving me gasping and vulnerable. Using that as an opening the ring leader descended, easily breaking the armadillo ball that I had formed to try and protect my more vulnerable underside. He managed to splay me out on my back, mounting me like a damn log, pinning my arms to my sides with his knees. I could do nothing, seeing as I was still too busy trying to re-inflate my flattened lungs.

"Hold her!" he yelled and several of his lackeys hurried to comply. Sensing my rising dread he leered at me, obviously enjoying my defenselessness. "Ah, ah, ah," he tutted at me when I squirmed, trying to escape, only having barely caught my breath. I couldn't muster up much of a decent struggle and my efforts were expectedly useless. "Now what should I do with you," he hummed, putting a finger to his face in a dumb exaggerated thoughtful pose. I just glared, knowing there wasn't anything I could do anyways.

"Ah!" I flinched when he snapped his fingers, "I know just the thing to teach you your place, you dumb bitch." Street life had made him harsh, cuss words like that were nothing to us, even if it was usually strange to hear that sort of thing come out of an 8 year olds mouth. And if he was 8, it would probably seem even stranger for me, as a 5 year old, to know language just as bad if not worse than that.

He leaned back, letting his boys hold down my upper body. My eyes widened when he pulled out a little knife, something he had probably stolen from the corner store when the owner wasn't looking. Uh oh, this is gonna get really bad, really fast. I thought, and tried my best to buck him off, trying to summon up just a teensy bit of the strength I had seen in a runaway ox that had rampaged through downtown two days ago. Sadly I was no ox, and he easily subdued me with a vicious punch to the gut that sent me into another fit of wheezing, coughing and gasping that had my throat feeling like I could cough up blood at any second.

"Fuck" I wheezed, stupidly using up some of my precious air supply on that epithet, but it felt good nonetheless, and I was unable to keep the curse word from bursting forth.

While I was distracted, he managed to yank up the bottom of my shirt, exposing my bony hipbones and ribs. Living off of scraps meant that there wasn't much to see there, but being a slightly smaller target didn't mean that there wasn't enough flesh to cut.

He grinned maliciously, cutting into the skin above my hip with his knife. I yelled, my breath still mostly gone, but the pain was so surprising that I couldn't help but cough out something. I quickly discovered that screaming and yelling were really difficult to properly accomplish while also coughing and gasping, but somehow I managed both. I probably sounded pathetic.

As more breath was able to magically appear inside my lungs, I was able to yell louder, which I couldn't help but do. Cuss words also started sneaking in through the yelling, but that couldn't be helped. He was cutting slowly, sadistic bastard, sending pain shooting through the severed nerves in my skin. His face was intense; he was concentrating hard on something, whatever it was that he was carving into me. After what felt like forever he finished, drawing away his knife and grinning like a lunatic, much too pleased with himself.

"There!" He boasted loudly pointing down at whatever he had carved into my body, I craned my neck to see what the hell he had done, not really wanting to see but needing to at the same time. He had carved the Kanji for "Hate" into my skin rather raggedly but still very readable. "Now you'll always know!"

"Know what?" I asked, knowing that it was setup, and not really caring.

He leaned in and growled "That that's all you ever be … hated." Then he leaned back and laughed. "You're trash after all! Who likes trash?!"

He was true, I hated to admit it, but I was an orphan, living on the street. No one wanted me. But still, I wasn't going to let this bastard have the pleasure of seeing me cry damnit! Feeling rage surge inside me, I did the first thing that came to mind, I spat in his face. He yelled and jumped back, landing on his butt, and wiped his face with his hands.

"You BITCH!" he screamed, landing back on top of me with a thud, causing me to cry out as all my previous bruises were reawakened viciously. He pounded his fists into my torso and head, screaming nonsense and obviously completely nuts.

The pounding pain started to meld into one big throbbing pain that encompassed my whole body, sending me into a stupor, unable to really comprehend anything outside of pain. So I was a little slow on the uptake when the blows stopped making contact.

*switch to Gaara POV*

The sound of skin hitting skin over and over, the muffled sound of a boy cursing, the groans of a girl in pain, they drew the curiosity of a young red headed boy not too far away. Following the sounds, he became aware of the scent of blood, the monster inside of him stirring in the dark recesses of his young mind. Already upset by having his small kindness thrown in his face, already having the phantom pain in his chest wracking his small frame, his emotions became more and more unstable and he felt that dreaded rush of blood lust raise its wicked head.

He walked closer and closer, his normal short stride slowly became more predatory. Less childlike. More dangerous. He clutched at the fuzzy teddy bear in his arms, holding on for dear life, the still sane child in him terrified and trying to cling to reality.

Once he was close enough to see into the dark alleyway where the noises were issuing forth he perceived a group of no more than ten boys, all older than him, huddled around several hunched forms.

His curiosity peeked, and his bloodlust momentarily subsiding, he crept closer, trying to see what it was that was making those strange and frightening noises. As he inched forward he slowly was able to make out through the huddled standing figures that there were two hunched forms that weren't moving, and one that that was making a constant repeated violent motion of some sort. This was the source of the nasty words that Gaara could now make out somewhat.

"What are you doing?" his young raspy voice carried over to the small crowd, startling those that were standing and causing them to spin around. Once they confirmed their fearful suspicions as to his identity they immediately made a run for it, scattering and running as fast as they could, sending little familiar needles into his heart at seeing once again the backs of people fleeing in terror from his small form.

Ignoring the familiar pang he turned back to the ones still there. The two hunched figures that were still before were now desperately trying to get the attention of the other one, who seemed to be in some state of insanity.

Without all the crowded legs of the others, Gaara could now see the bloody figure of what appeared to be a girl, the two figures trying to snap their comrade out of his stupor were kneeling on her shoulders, not really paying attention to her at all. The third figure was violently punching her, over and over again, smearing her blood onto his fists and sending it spattering onto him and his companions.

The violence and the blood sharply reminded him of all the violent attempts to his life, and his sudden surge of terror quickly morphed into rage. Driven by instinct that he couldn't control, sand started to flood the small alleyway, sweeping up all three boys and dragging them out towards the little ball of suddenly very pissed off red head.

They were promptly crushed, Gaara too pissed off and emotionally unstable to mince words or actions.

After standing and trembling for a minute he turned to the girl, suddenly unsure of what he should do.

*switch to Ren POV*

I never noticed the blows stop; I only barely noticed the retreating footsteps of the kids surround me. I did notice when the two boys pinning me shifted forwards and pinned my shoulders harshly to the ground with their knees, they're weight sending shards of pain through me, I also became uncomfortably aware of all the glass that had become imbedded in my back, due to the sensation of glass being crushed into the backs of my shoulders.

My cry was swallowed by a roar, one that wasn't produced from a throat but rather from the mass of sand that was currently descending upon my unsuspecting person. I only knew that one moment I was enduring the pain accompanied by being used as a kneeling futon and as a punching bag, and the next my whole world consisted of sand.

The uncomfortable crushing weight and darkness quickly lifted, sliding off my body along with the three weights of my aggressors.

Unable to muster up enough strength to lift my head I only lay still, simply hoping that the beating was over and I could lie still for a while and try to recover. I had never been beaten quite so badly and certainly never cut. I was surprised that I was even conscious.

I heard several screams cut off abruptly to the clap of sand, like a clap of thunder, only duller. The curiosity now had me struggling to raise my head. Having to carefully lever myself onto my elbows, despite the pain shooting through my shoulders, I peered out of the mouth of the alleyway to see a small figure, glaring at piles of bloody sand, small fists clinched and even more sand billowing around in unnatural aggressive looking grainy clouds.

I stared at him in amazement; he was no older than me probably and yet he had these amazing powers. He had killed the boys I noted, strangely numb. But despite being a little numb with shock, I did know that I didn't regret their deaths, after what they had done.

Slowly his aggressive stance slumped into one of defeat, his angry expression slowly melting into one of sadness. He sniffled and tears started running down his cheeks, joining previously unnoticed marks. "Why?! Why does this happen?" he sobs quietly.

I'm startled. He had obviously intended to hurt them, so why was he upset by it?

Oh … I get it … I know who he is now, I should have known right from the start, but I probably had a bit of a concussion so …

"I'm glad you scared them off. They were mean …" I called out to him softly, trying to comfort the small red-head that had come to my rescue. "Thank you." He looked over at me, shocked; maybe he had forgotten I was there. The loneliness and despair in those slanted jade eyes called to me, drew me to him in a way I had never felt before.

Despite the pain of moving, and it was excruciating, despite the blood warming my now sticky side, despite the darkness hovering at the edges of my vision waiting to consume me, despite all that I slowly struggled to my feet, staggering. Once I had gained some sort of precarious balance, though still wobbling a bit, I slowly made my way over to him, intent on my new mission.

I wanted to erase that look from his eyes, completely. The pain reflecting in his wet eyes was almost more than I could bear, despite the fact that I was probably in the most physical pain I had ever been in. He stood there, seeming frozen in place, looking like he was afraid if he twitched a muscle that I would disappear. He was terrified but almost eager in a desperate way, something that just egged me on.

I reached him only after a few minute of intense pain and concentrating on my feet and nothing else. One step in front of the other, that was what my entire world consisted of now. That, and the light green eyes that completely absorbed my field of vision.

I finally reached him, barely a foot from him, within touching distance I paused. I slowly reached my hand out to him, wanting to give comfort, to give something of myself to this strange young boy that had crashed into my life.

As I reached, I whispered, "Thank you …"

The sand that had long since subsided from the ominous cloud from earlier now seemed agitated. It fidgeted around both our feet.

An inch before my hand made contact with him, I'm not really sure where since my vision was getting blurry, I felt my fingers run into sand. And then the darkness that had been threatening me the whole time finally started closing in. As my eyes flutter closed and the sensation of falling took over my body, I heard some sort of guttural sound of distress come from the boy in front of me. I could swear that my fingertips brushed skin, right before I lost consciousness.

End Chapter 1

So? What'd you think? I have the next few chapters ready, but I want to see if anyone wants me to continue before I post them.

Just in case you were wondering, they don't stay children forever, this story goes much further into their adulthood and will have romantic themes eventually.