Gaara was just a boy when he met the strange and sunny enigma named Naruto. Wherever he went, good things seemed to follow. Gaara wondered if it was because he was always smiling. He didn't understand how the blond did it. He was always smiling. He was always happy. He was the opposite of Gaara, who was as fiery and angry as the color of his hair. He hated people. He even hated Naruto, but after many forced play dates he fell claimed to the blond's childish charm. He helped Gaara to see the world differently. Suddenly it wasn't as dark.

When they were fourteen, Naruto introduced him to Hinata and Neji. Somehow, Gaara saw a piece of himself in the solemn looking boy. They tip toed around one another for the years that followed, but Neji made the first move when they were seventeen. For the first time in his life, Gaara felt sincerely happy. He wondered if it would last because such a strong emotion felt amiss on his being... but he went with it. To be touched with gentle hands and to hear gentle words was something Gaara wasn't used to. He was used to harsh words and rough touches. He was used to abuse and violence and being hated. It's what he grew up with. It's what his father taught him to accept. "You killed your mother," he would say. "She died giving birth to a monster like you. A murderer is no son of mine." It was a time before medical advances could save lives with ease. No matter how many times the doctors insisted it was an accident, Gaara's father was never swayed in his beliefs. He would bring his cane down upon his son's back and tell him it was what he deserved. He deserved to suffer.

But things changed after he met Naruto. They changed even more so after he met Neji and they continued to change when Neji decided to court the redhead. "Are you sure you want to be with a guy like me?" Gaara would constantly ask, but Neji was sure in his ways. He never minded Gaara's insecurities.

The year after they got together, Neji started working for Naruto's father. Something about Orochimaru always unsettled Gaara, but Naruto always seemed blissfully ignorant to his father's strangeness.

"Marry me," Neji proposed when they turned twenty. It was an unceremonious request, but Gaara said yes.

Things started to change as they grew older. Neji was no longer doing simple clerical work. He was no longer running easy errands. He was the bodyguard, beating those he was told to beat. He was in too deep. Gaara had a feeling. One night in particular, Neji arrived home late and Gaara's suspicions were confirmed.

It was three in the morning when he heard the door open. It was followed by frantic footsteps. Gaara had spent the night paranoid, waiting for Neji to return. He immediately got out of bed and walked out of his room. "Neji," he said his fiancé's name, staring at his shadow in the dimly lit hall.

"Move," Neji murmured, brushing past Gaara and moving into the bathroom.

The redhead followed him, flicking on the lights. His eyes widened. "What the hell happened?" he demanded. Neji was covered in blood and it didn't take much to understand that none of it was his own. He turned the tap on, rinsing his shaky hands. "What happened!" Gaara demanded again, raising his voice.

"Business," Neji responded, letting out a shuddery breath. He dried his hands and removed his white button-down shirt, tossing the bloody scraps into the trash bin.

Gaara hovered in the doorway, anger bubbling throughout every inch of his body. "You don't have to keep doing this," he whispered.

Neji turned around, laughing bitterly. "I do have to!" he shouted, grabbing the redhead by the shoulders. "You don't know what he's like! He'll kill me if I don't! It goes deeper than this..."

Gaara wasn't afraid – not of Neji, never of Neji. He simply stared into his pale, glassy eyes. He knew then how afraid the brunet was. "How deep?" he asked, but Neji wouldn't say.

He back away. His breath came in short and he started wringing his hands through his hair. "I fucked up," he whispered, letting out a sob before starting to hyperventilate. "God, I really fucked up... Shit, shit, shit... Shit!"

"Calm down!" Gaara snapped. "What did you do? You hurt someone, didn't you?"

"No," Neji confessed hoarsely. "I killed someone... a woman."

"Her name?" Gaara pried, needing Neji to say it and needing him to acknowledge exactly what he did.

"Karui..." Neji whispered. "Karui Inuzuka..."

"Why?" Gaara pried further.

Neji let out another breath. "She caused a scene and pissed off the boss – simple as that."

For some strange reason, the words didn't shock Gaara. He always knew Orochimaru was a bad man. He's not surprised he used Neji to do bad things. "You need to figure out where your loyalties lie," Gaara said. "I just hope they're not with Orochimaru. Especially not after this."

Neji just shook his head, opening the medicine cabinet and choking back a few of Gaara's sleeping pills.

||XxXx||

Neji held fast. The following year, he was sent out into the slums to deliver care packages. At least, that's what he was told. That's what Gaara was told. He didn't think anything of it until he got a call from the hospital. That phone call changed everything for the worst.

Gaara rushed to the hospital and when he arrived there, he was greeted with a sight much worse than Neji covered in a stranger's blood. This time, he was covered in his own blood. He was lying on an operating table with a great gash in his stomach. The doctors were anything but frantic.

"There's nothing we can do," they insisted, but Gaara knew it was a lie. "Some of the sewer rats must have got him."

"Sewer rats...?" Gaara repeated, incredulous. "What the fucking hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Street walkers, beggars, hookers, poor kids. People in the slums."

Gaara severely doubted their words. "Get out!" he shrieked at them, throwing medical supplies at them until they vacated the room. When they were gone, he was left alone with Neji. He knew there was nothing he could do. He bent over Neji and asked, "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore," Neji insisted hoarsely, but the wince gave him away. He let out a shallow breath. "Come closer..." he requested. When Gaara bent down, he said, "Question everything... and don't trust anyone... especially... not the cops..."

"I don't," Gaara assured him gently. He held Neji's clammy, bloody hand in his and watched until there was nothing left to watch. It happened quickly. For a moment, he simply stared. He was alone now. He let go of Neji and stared down at his red palms. Then he lost it. He screamed louder than he's ever screamed before. It sank in slowly and he realized that he wouldn't see Neji again. He felt like a piece of himself was stolen away and it was worse than any pain he'd experienced. It was like part of his body was being ripped off, slowly and agonizingly.

That night he went home to an empty house. Nothing was the same after that and Naruto only grew colder.