The first time Gaara met Namikaze Minato he was a little less than seven glaring at the Hokage and his entourage as they encroached upon his city.

The leaf shinobi continued down the main road under the combined scrutiny of Sunagakure. His father stood ready to meet them while Gaara and siblings watched from the balcony above. Kankuro and Temari took care to remain at least several yards away from him at all times as they whispered to each other.

"He doesn't look special. " Kankuro muttered. " Dad could take him."

"It's not about looks. They say he moves so fast you can't even see him." Temari said.

"Big shame for you huh? He looks like one of those pretty boy heroes in those movies you watch."

Temari smacked Kankuro and hissed. "Shut up!"

"So he is the strongest?" Gaara asked, eyes trained on the Hokage. The man wore an easygoing smile as he shook hands with the Kazekage. Kankuro was right. Nothing remarkable stood out. But a knot of unease slowly swirled inside Gaara.

Temari looked at him from the corner of her eye. "That's what they all say. A thousand shinobi gone in just a flash. If he touches you then - well even you'd be as good as dead, Gaara."

He scowled at her and Temari skittered back a few feet. He started to snarl that there was no way that would happen when Shukaku began to scream.

A high pitched whine escalated into a full on roar of rage that brought Gaara to his knees. Palms pressed into his eyes. Fingers twisted in his hair. His body shook and shook. His head filled with nothing but pain and noise.

The demon spewed an incoherent babble. Words were devoured before they could even be understood. Something about a fox and a girl.

"Slower," Gaara said. "Slower and quieter."

'Look!' Shukaku seethed. 'Look down there you maggot!'

Gaara peeked between his fingers down below.

A blond girl sat on the shoulders of a dark haired man. She looked up at Gaara with a smile and waved.

The unease churned faster. The pieces were lining up. A sick sense of deja vu gripped him.

'Jinchuuriki.'

Gaara knew the end to this story. He dropped a hand to clutch at the ache in his chest.

'Kill her. Kill her! Kill her!'

Shukaku degenerated into a screaming fit. Gaara still shook and shook. The girl was nothing like him. Not yet. Maybe never. She didn't have to mean anything to him at all.

But then he met the Hokage's eyes and saw that they just as blue as Yashamaru's.

xXx

The next time there were footsteps at his door, it was not Uzumaki Naruto.

The man opened the cell and offered his hand. A swirled orange mask covered his face save for one red same man he'd stood next to weeks ago, overlooking a stadium. The Fourth Hokage's bodyguard.

Gaara rose slowly to his feet but did not take his hand. There was something just a bit off about the shinobi in front of him. From the mask that covered a well known face to the hand extended towards him. Uchiha Obito looked at him, not like a prisoner, and not even as a monster. Obito looked at him like he was expecting to find someone else instead.

"Are you going to come here or do we have to do this the hard way?"

Gaara reluctantly stepped forward, the older man clasping a hand firmly on his shoulder as he did so. The Sharingan began to spin and the world around them spun in turn. Space time ninjutsu made Gaara feel small, as if he needed to pass through the head of a needle. Even this strange method made his skin itch. He would never get used to it.

In an instant, Gaara found himself thrown roughly into an interrogation room. Obito stared at him from the table he'd claimed as a seat. He propped up his head with a hand, mask tilted lazily to one side of his now uncovered face.

"What exactly is so special about you?" Uchiha Obito asked, "What makes you any different from the other jinchuuriki?"

"I am alive." Gaara replied. "And I am not going to disappear."

Not when he was so close.

The single eye narrowed, a bright scarlet warning. "You already have. Your family wants nothing to do with you. Your country cares only for the demon inside you. You will die unremarkable and forgotten. What a tragedy."

Gaara stared impassively at him, but couldn't help grinding his teeth together. Naruto would remember him. She would definitely remember him.

"You died a long time ago, Sabaku no Gaara." Obito said without malice. For a moment the man looked deeply unhappy. An uncomfortable moment where he stared not at Gaara, but directly through. Then he pulled the mask back over his face.

"You shouldn't indulge Naruto anymore. Let her walk away."

"I've never once stopped her."

Obito shook his head. "But wouldn't you?"

The door behind him opened, several shinobi filing in and surrounding the two of them. The Uchiha made his exit in another whorl of distortion. That was fine. Gaara didn't have an answer to his question anyway.

He knew that the thread between him and Naruto felt taut, but he did not know how to fix it. Walking away wasn't an option anymore.

xXx

Gaara spent the next three days in the interrogation room. The Konoha ninja came and asked their questions, then left and returned with more. They treated him decently and seemed satisfied with what they had gotten out of him so far. And why wouldn't they? All he had to do was tell the truth.

Said, "I hated my father. Always have."

Said, "He tried to have me killed since I turned six."

Said, "He was going to betray our alliance. He would have given the order to invade if I hadn't killed him beforehand."

Said, "I don't care about Leaf. I would have killed any of you. I wanted him dead more."

The thing about being a jinchuuriki was that when you told people you were a monster, they believed you. They didn't think to look underneath the underneath. Any files Suna provided plus his testimony painted a clear enough picture. A dangerously unstable individual with no loyalty to kin or country.

No one would ever know what he wanted.

The next round began a little differently.

Gaara sat bound in a chair across from a heavily scarred man. On the table between them was a file. Gaara looked at his own face sneering at him from the picture on the front.

"Sabaku no Gaara."

The man was Morino Ibiki, the commanding officer of Konoha's Torture and Interrogation Force. His bingo book entry contained the story of a Kirigakure squad who'd killed themselves before letting him have their hands on them. A man like this could be feared.

Gaara stared at him blankly.

"Sabaku no Gaara," Ibiki repeated. " Sixteen years old. Jounin of Sunagakure. One brother, one sister. Youngest of the three. Son of the Kazekage. Jinchuuriki of the Ichibi."

He went down the list emotionlessly, his dark eyes on Gaara the entire time.

"So tell me, why are you here Gaara?"

Gaara looked at his interrogator and wondered if he could tell Gaara had been on the other side of the table.

He had been young, no older than eight. His father brought him before a woman chained to a chair and told him to make her talk. Gaara knew nearly nothing of finesse or control at that point. But he knew pain. He knew that her screams when he crushed both her legs excited him. Before he could stop it, sand rushed engulfed her and resulting mess covered him in blood.

His father had merely frowned and tried again and again. Control yourself, he said. Control yourself Gaara. The or else was a threat unspoken and understood.

He might as well have asked Gaara bring his uncle back to life. Control was not for those who had something wild in their soul. A wild thing with sharp teeth and a hunger so terrible the world itself recoiled from him. A void trembled and shook in his small pale frame. It wanted and wanted. He wanted and wanted.

He wanted more.

The sand was in tune with him, eager to please. It acted on the smallest of thoughts and catered to his needs. It upset the demon in his belly to see him using its techniques. It tormented him and raged that it did not care for a single one of his wants and what did wanting more even mean to begin with.

Ten years old and a trail of bodies behind him, Gaara didn't know.

He had stood in front of the latest prisoner his father watching closely behind him. Gaara felt the weight of his gaze and an all too familiar fear engulfed him. If he failed this time his father would kill him. He started slowly with questions, and then threats. He removed a finger and then a second. The prisoner cried. Tears fell down onto the table without ceremony. Gaara grit his teeth and continued on even as the howling in his veins rose to dangerous heights.

The blood would soothe the ringing in his head and he wanted that. But he also wanted to live. As he cut away eyelids he held onto only that. He wanted to live. He wanted to live.

Maybe control meant wanting something so badly that it eclipsed everything else.

Now he sat across from a man who thought he could scare him. A man whose job was to break him open and take everything inside. A man who would never understand the whys and reasons. A man destined to fail.

Gaara stayed silent and kept his eyes on Morino's.

"Fine. Let's switch it up." He withdrew several more files. "Maybe you can help us with this."

Red clouds on a black background covered one file. Akatsuki. The ones who hunted monsters. Morino pointed to the man who had almost hunted Gaara down two years ago.

"What can you tell me about Deidara?"

Deidara was the assassin who was the first one to ever get his past his defenses. He grinned even as sand tore his arm off. Explosions rocked the sky. Gaara fell to the desert. The impossible now terrifying inevitable.

Deidara was not the beginning, merely a turning point.

Gaara said, "You know more than I do. He came for me, and he failed. I haven't seen him again or any of the other members."

"But it is strange. Right after Deidara fled, you were already gone. You ran and hid before they could send anyone else after you."

"I did not hide. I left."

"Why?"

All he had to do was tell the truth. "Because there was nothing left for me in Suna. They left me to die."

Morino frowned. "So you left them. You vanished so deep into the desert that no one could find you. Not the Akatsuki who hunted and killed at least six jinchuuriki since you left. Not your village who seemed content that you were gone. Not your family, who you claim to hate.

"Then," he continued, "why come back at all? Would you really give up your sanctuary for a grudge? Why didn't you kill him before you left the village if it mattered so much? Your story isn't adding up Gaara."

Someone could look underneath the underneath after all.

Gaara reached for that constant howling in his blood. He let it transform his face into a snarling smile. It would only take one lie.

"My father sent someone looking for me and I found them. He wanted his weapon back for his war. That's all I ever was to them. So I came back. I didn't even have to earn his trust. He made me his main guard, because no one was better suited. I showed everyone exactly how weak and naive he was."

Gaara leaned closer. "My father created me with the intent I become the strongest shinobi. But when I became too strong ,he wanted me to disappear. So for what reason do I exist? Why am I alive? I needed a reason to keep on living otherwise I might as well be dead. For two years I forgot that reason. But then I remembered. 'I exist to kill all other humans besides myself'. I only fight for myself and I only love myself. As long as I kill others to magnify that love, then I will not cease to exist."

Morino gripped the file tighter than he had before. A look of distaste crossed his face as he opened the second file.

"What about her?" he asked.

A file of monsters. Pictures of Gaara and Shukaku. A blond woman and a flaming cat. The Mizukage and a turtle. One tails, two tails, three tails. But Morino gestured toward the bottom. Nine tails. The smile slipped from Gaara's face.

'Did you always know you were a jinchuuriki?'

His heart began to pound. He closed his eyes. The thread was more than taut. It was razor sharp and held to his neck.

It all began here.

Gaara opened his eyes. He looked at the jinchuuriki of the nine tailed fox. He looked at Uzumaki Naruto.

It all began to make sense.

He could ask her the same question she had asked him, but he already knew the answer. Naruto hadn't known, that was all his fault.

He remembered everything.

Gaara closed his eyes once more, and refused to say anything else.

xXx

Fear was a terrible thing.

It turned any recollection of kindness into the sound of a jacket unzipping before the explosion. It made him cold and cruel. It changed any definitive action into a relentless assault of what if?

Fear drove Gaara to the girl's door ten years ago. Fear made him wait until he was sure she was alone. He stood on one side. She remained innocent and unaware on the other.

He had never wanted to save someone before. He did not even know if he could. But Gaara knocked on the door and waited. When the door threatened to open towards him he pushed it back and held it still with sand.

After all, what if she already knew? What if she wanted to kill him? This way they were both safe from each other.

The girl shouted. He had her attention.

"You're not like them and you never will be," he said.

"What?"

"You're not like them and you never will be," he repeated. "There's a monster inside you and it wants you dead. It wants everyone dead. Your Hokage, he put it in you. He made you a sacrifice. Now, you have a monster, you are a monster, and you have to fight the monster forever."

"What are you talking about? That's crazy."

"Everyone looks at you hateful. They treat you like you're something wrong. They call you names. Freak. Weirdo. Demon. They run from you."

She was quiet for a moment before she said, "That doesn't mean there's a monster in me."

"You know it's true. Did you ever wonder why the world keeps rejecting you? You ever look at the full moon and just ache?"

Gaara stopped for breath. He trembled. His own monster screeched at him. Fear made him want to stop. Fear kept him going.

"That's why you have to run away. You've got to get away from them. Somewhere they'll never find you."

"I can't just leave! I'm not going anywhere."

"They're going to betray you!" He shouted. "They always do. They'll say they love you and they'll trick you. They won't tell you the truth until it's too late. Because he never loved you. Because you can't love monsters. The hokage's going to betray you and if you let him, he might destroy you."

Please. He thought. Please. Over and over. If he could save someone else, then maybe-

"No. You're wrong."

"You're wrong!"

"My dad's not gonna betray me. Why are you telling me all this stupid junk? You trying to mess with me?"

He couldn't save anyone.

"Open the door and talk to me face to face, yeah?" she said, "I ain't got time for dumb stories, so open up and tell what you really want."

His pulse quickened. His heartbeats were loud enough to be deafening. What if he opened the door and something terrible happened? What if? What if? What if?

"Open the door already!"

"I won't."

"Just open it!"

She wasn't listening to him. Gaara was afraid. Beneath all the hatred, hurt, rage, cruelty, and hunger were those three words.

"If you come out here, I'll kill you. I swear it."

Gaara dropped the sand from the door and ran away before anyone saw him.

Fear was a terrible thing and he was a coward.

xXx

It had been a long time since Gaara had trembled or shook uncontrollably. He learned how to hold his body taut and unmoving. Even at his worst he defaulted towards that unnatural stillness.

That was how he was brought back to his cell. Stillness and silence. It was almost comforting.

The memory replayed over and over in his head. The wound refused to heal. What was he supposed to say to her? Nothing at all?

Gaara had already set everything in motion and even this wouldn't stop him. Naruto would hate him. She'd never forgive him. He could live with that. She would too.

It would be best if Naruto never came back to visit him. He ignored the gnawing agitation in his stomach as he imagined it. He had to let her walk away before she figured out everything. Simple enough. Let Naruto walk away. Complete the plan. It was enough.

But Gaara wanted more.

Sixteen years old, in a cage of his own design ,and he still didn't know what that meant.

The wood creaked and bulged in front of him. A hand punched through and the hole cracked open further. Gaara watched as a shadow drug itself from the earth below into the cell. The red cloud cloak wrapped around pure darkness and yellow eyes. It smiled at him, sharp jagged teeth forming from the blank expanse of skin.

"You are a hard man to find." it said.

The shadow exuded malevolence. From what little Gaara could sense, it didn't feel quite alive. Rather it simply played at it. A strange manifestation that had Shukaku growling.

"I don't want to fight you. I want to talk. After that you can escape no matter even if you decline."

Its presence was familiar. The shadow must have been lurking for a while. It hunted him. It hunted Naruto. Konoha had better sensors than him. They should have known. They had to have known.

"You don't have to die like the others. I can give you what you want."

"And what do I want?"

"To destroy the world."

Wrong.

"Not interested." Gaara said.

He raised his hands. Sand tore out from beneath his skin from where he'd hidden it in his blood. Some he sent to break his cuffs. The rest descended upon the Akatsuki.

The shadow turned tail and vanished down the tunnel it created. The sand chased it down, swelling larger as it crushed the dirt to create even more sand. It didn't catch up. The tunnel was too long. The shadow too fast.

Red dripped down from his wrists to the floor. His sand returned, hovering around him. The walls no longer sapped at his chakra.

Konoha knew. They put the two jinchuuriki in their control together on purpose. All they were was bait. In the end, they always betrayed you.

He had warned her. Maybe he could have done better. He still couldn't save her. But Gaara owed her more than standing aside and letting it happen. Do this one thing and let Naruto walk away.

Gaara turned toward the door that always sat between them and tore it from its frame. He exited the cell and made his way up the stairs. Sand dug long gashes along the walls. It shredded any pictures along the way greedily. He passed through the kitchen. Plates shattered. The furniture reduced to scrap.

He stopped in front of her room and let the sand drop. The door was slightly ajar. Gaara let himself in.

A few ramen cups claimed space on a dresser and one on the floor. Bingo books lay open stretched across a table. Above the table was a posterboard. All the jinchuuriki were on it. Only three didn't have their faces crossed out.

The bed was unmade. Gaara sat on it, staring at the posterboard. He imagined her imagining him.

The mark on his forearm burned and then there was a kunai to his throat ,and the Hokage pinning down his chest.

"Don't." Namikaze Minato said.

Gaara lay still. He glared into those blue eyes. Every second he lay there he made a promise to the other man silently. Hatred crawled up his throat, thick and acrid. A bone deep rage nearly summoned the sand back to him.

"How many times are you planning to sacrifice her?" Gaara asked.

The Hokage didn't respond. The mark burned again and Gaara found himself once more shrinking. Shooting straight through the head of a needle.

Fear was a terrible thing, but this didn't scare him. No matter where he ended up,no matter who stood in his way he had a goal.

He had to fulfill his father's dream of becoming the strongest.

He had to kill Namikaze Minato where everyone else had failed.

He had to change everything.