Born Into Trouble As The Sparks Fly Upward

Naruto and Gaara were on the floor of the living room, playing jacks.

It was, admittedly, past midnight, but the boys didn't care—Gaara didn't sleep, anyways.

Naruto was total shit at the game, having only learned to play about ten minutes before; Gaara was significantly better.

The pair took turns bouncing a ball, grabbing at oddly shaped, pointy objects, and then catching it all in one go.

"You're not good at this," Gaara told him.

Naruto frowned.

"Man, it's my first time playing! My highest score's four, I think that's pretty good!"

Gaara shook his head.

"It's only 'cause your hands are big. And my record's seven."

"Hey! My hands have nothing to do with my skills!"

"That's wrong on so many..."

Gaara trailed off. Naruto raised his eyebrows, glancing up at him after another turn—but his confusion faded into concern after seeing the expression on Gaara's face. Dark, fearful, vastly different from his cheerful demeanor only seconds before.

Naruto turned to face where his friend's eyes were fixed, and he felt his muscles tighten against his will. Dull fear welled in his stomach and weighed on his limbs.

Anger, tangible anger, stirred within his veins.

Rasa.

The man was concentrated on the pair of them, holding a cautious expression.

Naruto frowned. Why the hell was Rasa hiding it? He hated the pair of them, that was clear.

And what did it matter? Naruto and Gaara hated him back.

They stared at each other for only a few more moments before Rasa moved swiftly from the front door to the stairwell. His footsteps echoed, filling the ivory room.

Finally, he walked into the stairwell and out of sight.

Naruto sighed, tension easing, and turned back to Gaara.

And what a sorry sight he was! Naruto nearly choked. With his clenched jaw, furrowed brows, and pained grimace... it was all too subtle, but it was Gaara. And Gaara rarely showed so much emotion. How could Naruto not have seen something so blatant? How could he not have heard his ragged breathing or quickened pulse?

"Are you okay?" Naruto asked quietly. It seemed that voices didn't echo. He glanced quickly towards the stairwell, just to make sure nobody was coming. Luckily, the coast was clear—

Shit, could Gaara have gotten paler?

"Gaara?"

"I'm going to kill him," he told Naruto faintly. He was looking past him, into the direction Rasa had gone.

Naruto frowned, then moved closer to Gaara until they were face-to-face.

"Don't murder your dad," Naruto said sternly.

"Why the hell not?"

"Well, because..." Ah, shit, Naruto couldn't think of a single reason that Gaara would listen to. "Because he's your dad" was redundant—Rasa had tried to kill Gaara, and he was his son. Familial ties obviously didn't mean much.

Of course, it's not like Naruto especially wanted him alive. Things would probably be a lot easier if he was gone. But how could Naruto excuse murder? And anyways, if Gaara was the one to kill him, there'd be serious consequences. Maybe those were enough to convince him.

"I guess because he's the Kazekage. If he dies, everyone will trace it to you. And the village won't have a leader. Or, won't Temari have to do it? And she's smart, but not that smart..."

Naruto faltered awkwardly. Gaara bit the inside of his cheek, then spoke.

"You don't understand..." he said. "It's... inevitable. It doesn't matter what you say, I'm going to kill someone. It's not..." He gnashed he teeth, frustrated. "I just want to fucking hurt someone, and nothing will stop me."

Naruto nodded as though he understood, but in reality, he was confused. Gaara would never hurt someone. He'd always try so hard to stop it. What was with the change of heart?

"Should we find Baki?" Naruto suggested. "He could probably... y'know, help."

"Baki's going to tell me to do breathing exercises or something. Fuck him, he's useless."

Oh, shit. That's what was happening.

Naruto finally realized. This wasn't quite Gaara, was it?

"I think we should still find him," he said. "If nothing else, he'll feed you."

"I don't want food. I want... I want to fucking kill somebody. I want to fucking kill Rasa. My father," he spat.

His tone was angry, but his face was scared. Worse than scared. Terrified.

"That's... not the best idea," Naruto said.

"Why not?" Gaara glared at him. "He tried to kill me. Everybody already fucking wants me dead. Why can't I just... fuck, why can't I just live without having to worry about consequence?"

His face said it all. He wasn't worried about the consequence of his actions. He was smart enough to understand that they were inevitable.

But the consequence of something he had no part of? The problems he faced just by being born? The shit he had to deal with, because of decision and damn assumptions that were made before he was able to even form complex thought?

He was afraid of being killed because he couldn't reign in an all-powerful burden he'd never asked for.

How could Naruto blame him? How could anybody blame him?

...In the background, Naruto heard something, but it was unfocused. Vague. And who cared when his friend was in the state he was?

Hunched, shaking shoulders. Angry, scared, sad expression. A voice on the edge of breaking.

Yeah, they needed to see Baki.

Naruto stood, his legs stiff from sitting so long, and he reached a hand out for Gaara to join him.

Gaara didn't take Naruto's hand, but he stood up as well, scowling.

Naruto smiled at him somberly. Gaara scoffed, looking away.

Hunched, shaking shoulders. Expression of hot anger and fear.

How familiar.

Naruto's arms were around his shoulders before either of them knew if it was appropriate.

"Get off me, I'll kill you," Gaara said icily.

"No," Naruto said. He was smiling brightly through his worry. "You won't."

"I will—"

"Oh my, I'm hugging you and not dying!" he sang, walking to the front door and dragging a reluctant Gaara behind him.

"You hug me too much," he said.

"A normal amount, I think," Naruto responded.

"Why would you? You know what I am. You know what I'll do."

"Yeah? But you're my friend. Doesn't matter to me."

"It should."

"Bummer."

Naruto grabbed the door handle, and Gaara wrenched out of his grasp.

"Naruto, I'm serious. I will kill you. And I'll kill everyone in Suna. How could you... are you suicidal or something? Why are you still here?"

Naruto shrugged.

"Because we're friends. I care about you. And... you care about me, even if you're too chicken to say it, I still know. You're a good person. Not your fault you got a thing in your head."

"But..." Gaara looked around, trying to find an answer that wasn't there. "I can't control my power, you know it! If we leave, I'll explode someone, easy. Break them apart before they know what's coming. I can't do anything about it, so why would you let me out?"

"Because you can control it," Naruto said, feigning complete confidence. "I know you don't want to hurt anybody. Just... keep focused, stay grounded, whatever you gotta do. I..." A pause. He smiled. "I believe in you."

Gaara looked at his feet, frowning.

"You shouldn't. It's not that easy."

But he stepped back next to Naruto, and when Naruto took his hand, he didn't protest. He just looked at him with wide, questioning eyes. Confused.

He was confused.

Wasn't that awful?

Naruto smiled.

Gaara winced as he opened the door. They stepped out into the sandy street, and Gaara's eyes didn't leave the ground. Periodically, his breathing would hitch or his muscles would tense or he'd trip over his own feet. The sand shifted and swirled.

It was a damn good thing Naruto had followed Baki home, once, because he was not a fan of visitors. Or sharing addresses. Or... children.

"Are you okay?" Naruto asked after a few minutes.

"I'm counting."

"Counting what?"

"Footsteps. I'm at fifty-three, but I lost count twice."

"Cool. We're almost there."

"Okay."

As they moved inwards through the city, the buildings turned old and tall, with relatively dark and weathered sandstone. When Naruto located the correct building, he saw it was over five stories, compared to the usual two or three from the district he usually stayed in. Granted, it was an apartment building, but Naruto was less concerned with living conditions as he was craftsmanship.

"In here," Naruto told Gaara. "It's on the second story. If we go in the main way, do you think they'll let us in without a key?"

"I'm gonna murder that pedestrian."

"Y'know what, the window's probably fine."

Baki was sitting on his couch, eating tofu and reading some shit contemporary romance novel.

Naruto studied the house carefully—it was the first time he'd been inside, and it was drastically different from the Kazekage's.

The place was smaller, obviously. But where Rasa had taken time on things that weren't technically essential, like minimalistic home decor and, y'know, doors, Baki just... hadn't. Maybe it was because he was a Jonin on active duty, but everything, from the furniture layout to the weapon placement (because there were strategically placed weapons littered around all of the fucking doorless rooms) seemed like it was set for a quick escape.

It was, admittedly, a really sad place to live. But... the fact that defense was such an obvious priority, and even the fact that it was his mentor's house, made Naruto feel safe. At least, safer than he'd felt in a long time.

"Hey, Baki?" Naruto asked. He couldn't help but relax, and it seemed like Gaara felt the same.

To be fair, though, he was still glaring at everything and shaking from pure rage. But his heart rate was slowing, his grip on Naruto's hand was loosening to the point where it was only blocking his blood flow a little bit. So, good signs.

"What are you doing in my house?" Baki asked flatly, not looking up from his book.

"This can't legally be classified as an apartment," Gaara said with a similar tone, "much less a house."

"Not my goddamn faut shinobi are paid with health insurance."

"The fuck is health insurance?"

"Exactly."

Naruto grit his teeth.

"Guys," he said, annoyed. Gaara glanced at him, looking as though he were imagining how it would feel to shove an ice pick through Naruto's skull.

Baki, on the other hand, looked at him in a much gentler way.

...Which wasn't saying anything, actually. His expression was apathetic at best.

Naruto swallowed.

"Baki, uh... We're here 'cause..."

Shit, those uncaring stares were getting to him.

"We're here 'cause I'm gonna murder someone," Gaara interrupted, "and that's probably not a good idea, long-term. So help me, or die."

Naruto flinched at his demanding tone and fucking murder threat. Sure, Gaara was always blunt, but he wasn't always so irritable... at least, not that Naruto had seen.

Baki sighed, setting his book on his couch—which was technically a futon—and turning his full attention on the boys.

"Any idea why?" he asked, like he knew the answer.

"Yeah. It's cause everybody's fucking stupid, and I wanna blow their fucking—"

"The one tail," Naruto shouted, cutting Gaara off. He repeated his theory, but quieted when Gaara's glare landed on him. "It's, uh... it's because of the one-tail."

"Yeah, figured," Baki said. Gaara looked at Naruto questioningly.

"Fuck you mean it's the one-tail?"

"Did you not..." Naruto raised his eyebrows. "Dude, you're doing the exact same thing I do when the Kyuubi thing comes out. You're pissed at everything, wanna murder everyone, I can literally feel your bloodlust..." He made a wavey gesture with his available hand. "All that stuff!"

Gaara crossed his arms, pursing his lips.

"I'm not being possessed, asshole. Anyways, the effects are totally different. I don't have any weird chakra-fueled birthmarks or stupid fast healing."

Naruto scowled.

Baki cleared his throat, ready to offer up an explanation, as per usual.

"You know that those things only happen in Naruto because of the seal being loosened, right?"

Gaara stared at him.

Naruto blinked in surprise.

"What?"

Baki sighed.

"Gaara, you know your super dark eyelid things?"

"I know of them." He narrowed his eyes, showcasing his super dark eyelid things.

"Yeah, those are the same thing as Naruto's weird cheek whisker things."

Both Naruto and Gaara stared at him, apparently in shock. Of course, it may have been because of his... interesting descriptions.

"Naruto's face mark things only darken when chakra escapes the seal," he continued, "but you don't have a seal, so they're always dark."

Gaara contemplated this for a moment.

"Well, what about accelerated healing?" he asked. "What's the deal with that?"

"You probably always have it," Baki responded, "you just can't tell because you literally never get hurt."

Gaara looks at Naruto almost desperately. Was he really so reluctant to believe that he was being at least partially influenced by a big angry chakra beast?

...Actually, that wasn't that surprising.

"What about the super big chakra aura," Gaara asked, "or the fucking... teeth? And eyes?"

"Again, probably the same deal. You have the same thing, you just don't notice because nothing changes." Baki hummed. "Could also be because the nine-tails has more chakra, so it can do more shit to the vessel. I'm not a scientist."

Naruto and Gaara stared at each other for about ten seconds, arguing silently. Naruto was on the side of, "go sit down and let Baki un-bloodlust your ass," and Gaara was going for "fuck off and die, I'm fine."

Eventually, Gaara sat down on the pathetic little futon and let Baki therapize him, or whatever was happening there. Naruto stopped paying attention immediately.

He was studying his surroundings once again. The only doors in the damn place seemed to be for the bathroom and the main entrance. Naruto wasn't sure Baki even had a bedroom, since the bathroom door was open, and the only other room visible besides the one they were in was the kitchen. Did he just sleep on the fucking futon?

The more Naruto thought, the more it made sense. But... then it didn't.

Such a level of caution, bordering on paranoia, might have been common for a Jonin. Always ready for a spontaneous mission, easily able to thwart an assassination attempt... those were probable issues, and this damn bunker of a home was prepared for them.

So... how had it been so easy for Yashamaru to try to hurt Gaara? Even if there weren't knives on every available surface, had the main stayed alive long enough to try and pursue them...

And it was probably just luck that they were on the balcony, anyways. If he'd gotten in, they'd have been dead before they could scream.

Was the damn layout of the house designed to kill the people inside it? Or did Rasa just not fucking think?

Even if it was his goal to kill Gaara, he was the Kazekage. Wouldn't he be afraid of being killed himself? Naruto had never seen the man's bedroom, and the memory of his office was foggy. In Baki's apartment, you could feel the security. But the best Naruto had felt in Rasa's house was claustrophobic.

...No. He was overthinking. Rasa wasn't some deadbeat, he was the Kazekage. Naruto was just overly critical, not to mention biased. His opinions of Rasa's skill were unsupported at best.

...The monarchial setup of Suna did not help Naruto's undeveloped suspicions. From Naruto's understanding, he wasn't even elected, or chosen by some council. He was just... there.

He couldn't even pinpoint what exactly he was suspicious of. But something was up.

And Naruto was way too terrified of Rasa to get to the bottom of it.

"Want some tofu?"

"No, I don't want tofu." Gaara looked at Baki like he was stupid. "It tastes like shit, are you on drugs?"

"Aren't you, like, four? Don't ask your elders if they're on drugs."

"I'm seven."

"And I'm fifteen years older than you. Don't be smart."

Gaara and Baki stared at each other with unyielding expressions.

Finally, Gaara looked away.

"You're old. How do you even function?"

"I'm twenty-four, idiot. Technically, my brain isn't even fully developed yet."

"So you're stupid."

"You're seven. You don't even have a fully grown head."

"Kill yourself."

Baki barked a laugh, which startled Gaara.

"I thought you wanted to kill me," Baki teased, grinning. Gaara frowned. Why was he smiling like that?

"I do. Keep talking, I'll make you eat your small intestine."

And Baki laughed again.

Gaara nearly hit him—sure, he'd been exaggerating, but he had the capacity to fulfill his threat. Why would Baki laugh in his face?

But it wasn't taunting. He wasn't mean-spirited. That was the difference.

Baki was laughing because he'd assumed the threat was a joke.

Gaara's face flushed at the realization.

He'd made his mentor laugh.

"I'm going to kill him."

"Don't murder your dad."

"Why the hell not?"

"Well, because... I guess because he's the Kazekage. If he dies, everyone will trace it to you. And the village won't have a leader. Or, won't Temari have to do it? And she's smart, but not that smart..."

"You don't understand. It's inevitable. It doesn't matter what you say, I'm going to kill someone. It's not... I just want to fucking hurt someone, and nothing will stop me."

"Should we find Baki? He could probably... y'know, help."

"Baki's going to tell me to do breathing exercises or something. Fuck him, he's useless."

"I think we should still find him. If nothing else, he'll feed you."

"I don't want food. I want... I want to fucking kill somebody. I want to fucking kill Rasa. My father."

"That's... not the best idea."

"Why not? He tried to kill me. Everybody already fucking wants me dead. Why can't I just... fuck, why can't I just live without having to worry about consequence?"

The boy's words were angry, spat out like venom. The bloodlust was clear, even from the stairwell.

Rasa walked up the stairs before the boys realized he was there. He did his best to be quiet, but with the conversation happening below, he didn't try too hard, as he figured the shouting would drown out his footsteps.

The truth?

Gaara wanted to kill Rasa. Or somebody, at least.

Rasa might as well let him. At least then there'll be some justification. Maybe the council would finally let him assassinate the bastard. Baki was right, killing him would set back their work with Naruto, and what would happen then?

But did it matter if the real monster was disposed of?

In the back of Rasa's mind, a grim sliver of thought emerged. Small enough to ignore, but too severe to neglect forever.

What sort of man would go to such lengths to kill his own son?