She wishes everyone would stop jumping around so much; it was damn unsettling. /She offers the ball to the little boy. His angst is, frankly, suffocating. /

Toph Bei-Fong. The name is a dull taste in her mouth, ashy. She wonders if it even holds any value anymore. She flicks away the pitiful thought, cards a hand through her hair. When it gets stuck in a knot, she retracts it carefully.

She hears the slap of wind pass above her; someone was jumping around again. She entertains the thought of slamming a cane above her, muttering about disrespectful kids stomping on her ceiling, but abandons the notion quickly. It's not that she's a coward, but she's already done it before. She didn't want another meeting with one of them again.

The thought of ninja bring a twist to her lips. Initially, she thought it was awesome, but their disposition and rather rude entrances dispelled the thought. Seriously, who offered to cut out her tongue when she didn't shut up? How was she supposed to know how she ended up in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of pricks for company?

Out of all things, sand too. She sighs, presses her ear against the wall. The sand is harsh here, burning against her skin, and getting into her eyes. One of the more painful sensations ever, and she was already blind. She palms the wall, purses her lips, and pulls. The sand complies with her, moving into her hand, before sputtering to a brief stop, spilling onto her lap.

Seriously, sand. Frustrated, she straightens, brushes the sand off. It is unbearably hot outside, but she sinks her bare feet into the sand with a slight frown, and after a few moments, the sand under her flattens to a smooth pavement. Satisfied, she continues on her way. The people here do not look at her strangely, nor speak if they notice her bare feet. They assume she is just an uncouth hungry orphan who can't afford shoes which, really, isn't that far off. Maybe she was too harsh on her parents.

She comes to a stop at the stand she frequents often, and says, "The usual, if you don't mind."

The man wiping the counter falters, and he's probably frowning. Still, business is business, and he accepts the coins she spills onto the counter.

"Y'know," he starts once he's back from wherever he goes to talk to his mini-chef, or maybe that was just an excuse for the delay (probably the former, since she hears low whispers about 'that girl again'), "if you didn't spend all your money on these dishes, you'd get some shoes, for once."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she answers breezily, cracks her jaw while yawning. The man sighs, as if he already knew.

"I'm just saying," the man says, resuming his wiping as she waits. "Fish is expensive."

"I like fish," Toph says, almost defensively. She has a soft spot for fried fish under the stars, but she could settle for this.

"I know," the man says, and she thinks she hears a smile, "good thing, too. They spoil easily."

Her fish arrives then, and Toph wastes no time in wolfing it down. She narrowly avoids death by inhalation of bones, and decides to call it day.

"Bye Gramps!" Toph waves and the man falters before grumbling about how he's not that old.

Ah, good times.

This is around the time some kid bumps into her. She already saw her coming, but her legs are made of steel, and maybe she likes guilt-tripping people. Maybe.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" The girl snaps, before getting a good look at Toph. She gasps, and starts apologizing.

Toph makes a mock-cry, throwing her hands up to her face, and the girl straightens immediately, hands hovering above Toph in a poor attempt to comfort her.

"I'm sorry!" the girl says, "I didn't realize. It's just- I-"

Toph sobers, grinning at the girl, all white teeth. The girl wavers uncertainly.

"You're not crying anymore," the girl observes, continues with a grim voice when Toph didn't answer. "You were never crying." Toph cocks her head to the side, listens to the rapidly gaining heartbeat.

"Tch, figures. No manners," the girl says, although she does good not to raise her voice. She is still talking to a cripple.

"Whatever, Brat," Toph says, dubbing the girl with the weird pony tails a new nickname. The girl's heart rate spikes again.

"You would do good not to call me that. I'm Temari, daughter of the Kage." That's good and all, except Toph has no idea who she's talking about. She has inkling it's some rich noble though, and she's had enough of those.

"Are you sure that's a good thing?" Toph answers, unperturbed. Temari is silent, but her heart rate does not lower. Finally, the girl clears her throat.

"Whatever indecencies you hold the Kage responsible for, I don't care. Just- whatever."

Toph watches, amused, as the girl turns around suddenly, stomping away. She closes her eyes when sand clings to it, and keeps walking. The brat with the pony tails, she'll make sure to remember her. Make a list of all the people she doesn't like in this wretched place.

The sand under her loosens, and she almost cries out, before balancing herself. Breathe in, exhale. Slowly, she kneels, palms sinking into hot sand, and lowers her ear. She hears, but she cannot listen. The sand is looser to her than solid ground, will not stay put and let her feel very well. Giving an unsatisfied grunt, Toph sits up.

A ball bounces by her. Footsteps follow, children shouting, "Move, move! Gaara's here!" They run away, almost tripping over in fear, and Toph stills. Who was Gaara? She wrinkles her nose. He must be scary for some kid to wet himself.

"Wait!" Her ears pick up a soft protest. "I just...to play." Toph scowls, turns away. That statement just evoked pity, and Toph hates receiving pity, even more so offering it. Wasn't she just hypocritical then? Still, she hears a soft intake of breath, as if someone was struggling to keep from crying.

She drags a hand across her face, already knows what she's doing despite better judgment. She toes the ball hesitantly, before picking it up. Without further ado, she pads over to the boy who is wiping away tears, now.

"Here," she drawls, as if bored, offering the ball to him. He hesitates, head upturned at her. His heart beat escalates, and she sighs. Her arms are getting tired.

He accepts it, quelled with only a few sniffles now and then. She waits, expecting a rush of gratitude.

Instead, "Why?" Her eyebrow tics.

"Your crying is annoying," she says, and the boy starts. Belatedly, she notes the sand is shifting under her feet.

"Annoying?" the boy repeats softly, and Toph shifts back when the sand curls around her feet.

"Wait!" he shouts, and the sand tightens around her feet (her very sensitive feet), traveling up to her legs. Too late, she thinks, when she tries to bend it away. His hold is strong, and the sand almost seems alive, curling and hot. She is scared. She cannot See. For a brief moment, she is just the blind little girl again, with nothing but darkness as friends. Then, the sand moves and she gets a glimpse again. Feels the vibrations, if a little sluggish.

"What the hell," she says, forces her voice to lower when it upsets the boy. Damn sand-benders. There goes the reincarnation in a different universe to save everyone because she's just that awesome idea.

"Sorry," the boy is saying, looking at her feet. "I don't want you to run away."

She rolls her eyes, and hopes the boy sees. "As if you scare me."

The boy looks up at this, breath caught. "But, the other children-"

"Yeah, hate to break it to you kid, but they were running away because of me," Toph says, tries and fails to bend the sand away. Even the sand near the boy's feet recoils at the feeling of her Bend.

The boy is unnervingly quiet, and from the shift in his stance he's not convinced.

"Gaara, was it?" she says, tries to distract him. He nods.

"Ya mind letting me go?"

"Why won't you look at me?" He says, seriously, and she almost smacks her face. Unfortunately, the sand has spread to her arm, rendering her immobile. Handicapped. She could 'look' at him, but it's not her fault she finds the air more attractive.

"Please tell me you're joking." The boy does not answer and the sand tenses- what the flipping hell the sand tenses.

"I'm blind," she drawls, the word curls around her tongue. "Blind, crippled, handicapped, what. Don't tell me you're blind too."

"Blind," Gaara echoes, tone bland. The sand softens, slips away from her arms. She shakes them, free.

"Blind," she confirms, waving a hand in front of her face, an eat-shit grin plastered on her face. Finally, the sand pools back to her feet, and she can feel when his control slips away. Carefully, she bends the sand flat under her feet. The action is not missed by the boy. Maybe he's not blind after all.

"The sand is listening to you," the boy says, awe in his voice. Or maybe something else, but she prefers awe.

"I'm not as smooth as you," she admits grudgingly, brushes the sand on her person away. He is quiet again, and it's just a little unnerving.

"I haven't seen you before," Gaara intones.

"I haven't seen you either," Toph replies with a smirk and a boisterous laugh. He does not join in, and she sighs.

"My good humor is lost on you."

"What's your name?" Gaara asks, and Toph provides it, faintly bored.

"Toph," Gaara repeats, almost chants, and again, the glee is unsettling. But, she is pretty amazing, so she brushes it off.

"You wanted to play?" He starts hesitantly, and the sand is shifting uneasily again.

"Sure, Antsy," she grins, "if you think you can beat me."

His heart rate spikes until she thinks he might have a heart attack. The thought is entertaining.

"Although, what exactly are we playing?" She inquires. She never really did have time for games, at least the standard ones, or friends for that matter (before them, but even then there wasn't time).

Gaara seems to frown, enunciating each word slowly. "I don't know."

She sighs, figures. Looks like they'll have to settle with plain old passing. Too bad nothing's plain with her. When the ball slams, indents itself into the wall of a lovely old lady, Toph fights from guffawing. She stops easily when the woman comes out, eyes narrowed, mouth set. It is too dark for her to see, but she raises a fist, shouting obscenities.

She elbows Gaara, who is frozen beside her. She meets nothing but sand, and bemused, she realizes Gaara is blocked by a wall of sand.

"Er." Paranoid, much? Frowning, she pads over to the wall. The old woman is practically blind and, carefully, Toph takes out the ball, fixes the hole.

"Come on," she hisses at Gaara, who is still tense, frowning at the old woman. He blinks. It takes a moment, but she can feel him turn to follow.

"Why'd you freeze up?" Toph is saying, throwing and catching the ball continuously in her hand, "I'm going to have to call you Pansy, now."

Gaara doesn't answer, crosses his arms almost self-consciously. Toph yawns.

"It's getting late; don't you have somewhere to be?" It sounds harsh, but she is genuinely curious.

The sand stirs again. "No."

"No? A little kid, like you?" Is he an actual orphan? In technicality, she is an orphan, but she doesn't like thinking herself as such.

"No," Gaara repeats more firmly, and she throws her hands up in a gesture of surrender at his tone, and the bristling sand.

"Well, I do. Places to be, people to meet."

Gaara tenses. "Who?" Toph doesn't like the tone.

"My bed," she says sarcastically, "he's waiting for me."

Gaara calms, turns away. She throws the ball at him, and the sand catches it for him. Really, it did everything. How annoying. Abruptly, he snatches her sleeve.

"What?" she grouses.

"May I come?" he asks softly, tongue struggling over the words. Toph sighs.

"Look, Pansy, I'm flattered, but the neighbors will think I'm an indecent pedophile."

"You're not old," Gaara answers, unperturbed.

"The point is," Toph says, "no, no you can't."

The sand is shifting again, shit.

"You're going to run away," Gaara intones, "just like everyone else." Toph almost jumps at the sand curling around her toe. Her feet were sensitive, damn it.

"I'm more awesome than everyone else," Toph says, and Gaara hesitates.

"Look," Toph says, tired, "I'll be here tomorrow." She points to the stand they are in front of.

"If I'm not, you have my permission to go on a murdering rampage to find poor little old me."

"Why wouldn't you be here?"

"Because I'm blind."

Gaara lets her go. "Fine."

"Jeez, was that so hard?" she mutters, flexing her toes.

"You have to be here tomorrow," he insists childishly.

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbles, and shoos him away. He treads off slowly, looking back often; cue the rolling of the eyes. Eventually, when he's out of sight, she sighs. The ninja -she sneers at the thought- filter down to her, and she yawns.

"You already keep me up with all the jumping, now what do you want?"

"You would do best to keep away from him, little girl," the one on the right says. She stretches, ignoring the goading.

"On whose orders?" she says.

"The Kazekage." There, second mention of the mysterious Kage.

"I don't like orders," Toph answers, put off.

Someone whispers, "Why does it matter? She's expendable."

"Still, we have a duty to warn all civilians," someone answers.

"It's just an orphan and a blind one too."

"I can hear you," Toph grouses.

Finally, "We are just warning you, girl. If you fail to grasp it, we hold no responsibility for your death." Death? These guys were serious.

"Yeah, yeah," she says, and they mutter inane things among each other before jumping away.

She wishes everyone would stop jumping around so much; it was damn unsettling. Like they just didn't exist.

Whatever, she thinks sourly, walks home.

A/N: What's that you say about language barriers? Lo siento, no hablo ingles. Yeah, I wrote this in response to the other Toph-Gaara fics, since I didn't particularly like them. It's not that they're bad, it's just not my cup of tea. Hope you enjoyed. Reviews would be adored. :)

2/3/13: Brushed away some grammatical errors, and replaced a few words for more consistency and flow. Will update soon.