Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Words

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The cloud flowed past the moon, covering half of it. I let a small smile grace my delicate lips as the hustle and bustle of Suna calmed down.

It had been a while since I left Konoha to Suna, but I loved this village. Really, it's great.

As I picked up the small tub of chocolate ice cream, I licked my lips, imagining the inevitable cool feeling of the sweet treat sliding down my throat...

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After I paid for the treat (along with a packet of biscuits and a small chocolate bar), I walked along the streets, my tongue licking the edges of the chocolate bar. I bit off a chunk and smiled as I began to chew, a shadow in the distance catching my eye. Squinting, I saw the familiar outline of a boy. I walked on over, still eating my chocolate bar in small, thoughtful bites. "Gaara-sensei?" I called, managing to catch sight of the striking colors of his eyes and face in the midst of the dark.

Gaara-sensei turned to me, his arms crossed over his chest. "Amy. Hello," he said, running a hand through his brick-red hair.

"Gaara-sensei, why are you out here so late?" I asked in between chocolate bites. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I don't sleep," he told me, an extremely thin frown on his face. "Why are you out so late?"

I grinned sheepishly, holding the chocolate bar up for him to see. "Chocolate craving; you know me, sensei—I hate waste."

He nodded, an understanding stare on his face.

I never bought a big packet of chocolate, or it would go to waste. Mostly because my father hated it when my siblings and me threw away perfectly good food.

"Amy, I was wondering..." Gaara-sensei began, looking eye-to-eye with me, "what do you think of me?"

It didn't take me another thought to answer him. "I like you, Gaara-sensei," I said truthfully, forgetting about the chocolate bar in my hand. "You're my sensei, and you're fun to be around."

He grunted slightly. "There are things that I did that made people hate me, Amy," Sensei told me, his turquoise eyes staring into my icy blue ones.

I don't hate you. Neither does Matsuri, Sari, Ittetsu and Naruto," I told him, trying to reassure him. It didn't seem in his nature for him to do something so terrible that people would hate him.

"Yes," he replied, "but you're all my students, and Naruto is my friend." Gaara-sensei said, still looking at my eyes.

For a moment, I took a good look at him, taking in his distraught eyes and rumpled hair. I finally lowered my chocolate bar all the way. "Why would you think that people hate you, Sensei?" I asked, the question barely above a whisper.

Instead of answering me, he shook his head as if to say that he wouldn't dare say a thing—else I'd hate him, too.

"If I tell you about me, will you tell me about you?" I asked him, hoping to pry the truth out of him through a... reasonable trade.

For a moment, he hesitated, keeping my gaze with his turquoise orbs. It wasn't long before he grunted, nodding once in consent (which made me want to have a fist-pump party).

"Deal," Gaara-sensei said gruffly, gesturing for me to sit down with him on a nearby bench.

When he looked at me questionably, I took a deep breath and began.

"My parents didn't love each other; you see; they were from two clans who were rivals. My father's clan wanted a treaty with my mother's clan, so my mother and father were forced to wed. My mother always told me that she would marry him, but she vowed to not bear his children—then Daichi happened. My father loved him, and so did my mother. They showered him with presents."

An ironic smile crossed my face before I continued.

"Then, my older sister Haruka was born; Daddy's Little Princess, she was. He was always taking care of her and Daichi, and over time, he and my mom began to fall in love. It wasn't until my mom was expecting me—my father was utterly pleased. Daichi and Haruka weren't the greatest at genjutsu, so my father hoped that I would be a genjutsu specialist. When I was born, my father claimed he saw a 'genjutsu girl' in the making." I took in an unstable breath. "Then arguments started—about the time when I was three. Dad would ignore Daichi and Haruka, only helping me with my training. My mother claimed that Daichi was a taijutsu specialist, and Haruka a ninjutsu prodigy. She got mad at Dad for favouring me—and each night, they'd have a frightening fight."

I could almost hear them again at that moment, forgetting that I was sitting on a bench with my sensei and almost teleporting back to when Haruka, Daichi and I were hidden under the table, blankets draped over us as we huddled together when Mom and Dad shouted at each other.

"Go on," Gaara-sensei coaxed me softly, pushing me gently back into my story and away from the cruel memory.

I was silent for the first couple seconds. "There was this incident," I whispered. "Haruka had left a candle burning in her room. It fell off her bedside cabinet, and her room was full of flames." I swallowed soundlessly. "My parents managed to Haruka and Daichi out, but..." Another sharp swallow. "I was still stuck inside."

There was another brush of silence.

My voice was now just a cruel murmur as I relived the mocking, biting flames that scraped off one painful layer of skin after another. "My father told her not to, but my mom went after me anyway. She saved my life..." My vision started blurring, and behind the tears, I swore that I could see those gentle arms, cradling me as I crawled across the floor, only to be devoid of such comfort just as I saw the door. "... but she died just when we got to the door." I could feel a bitter smile cross my lips, but just before Gaara could see it, I managed to shake away the tears and give him a weak laugh. "Of course, it's not too good to dwell on the past—hey, I'm pretty sure my mom got pretty tired of hearing the same thing over and over again from my dad!"

I saw Gaara-sensei take note of the fact that I was trying to hide my sadness, but he chose to stay quiet about it, knowing that I'd hate it if he mentioned my crying later on. After a brief moment of peace and quiet, Sensei spoke. "I guess it's my turn now."

"Yeah, it is," I said, cracking a better smile as I sat back against the bench and listened to Gaara's story.

I listened as he told me about his childhood, how his father was the Fourth Kazekage and how the One-Tailed Beast was sealed inside him in hopes that he would become the village's ultimate weapons, only to backfire when the village looked him as a sort of failed experiment and a threat to the Sand Village. He had more attempted assassinations under his belt than I could count (even one from his uncle!). He told me of his regret of ever being born and how he'd become a monster—and only recently changed when he had met Uzumaki Naruto.

My face lit up at the mention of the blond, knuckle-headed ninja who was now my best male friend. "It's not all bad, Gaara-sensei," I told him, trying to reassure him once more. "I mean... your uncle"—he cringed in reference to the one who had tried to murder him—"managed to talk to you about love, right?"

Gaara-sensei scoffed. "Love is just a word, Amy," he mumbled. "It doesn't mean anything."

I cracked a soft smile. "Well, aren't words meant to be said to others?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," I began, "you should tell someone if you love them. Words that aren't said are a waste of thought, you know."

Gaara-sensei looked at me for a while, making me feel uncomfortable under his harsh gaze. "Amy," he said, "would you like to go get something to eat with me tomorrow?"

I stared at him, shocked. "Sure, sensei," I replied, my eyes still wide. When he walked away, I smiled to myself, realizing what all of that was about, and tried not to giggle. Those words had helped me.

They would help him.

And to me, Gaara-sensei is the most important person in my life.

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