Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.


Chapter 1: Ultimate Defense

Subaku no Gaara, contrary to popular belief, does not wish death upon anybody.

Sure, he occasionally(constantly) murders anything and everything that looks at him funny, but it's not like he wants them to die. More like... he really wants them to go away, and there's nothing wrong with that, right?

"I'm so sorry, Mother, his blood must have tasted horrible."

Well, yeah, okay, there's that, too, but come on.

Maybe the guy's a few pints short of a bloodbath, but really, he's a fucking insomniac- and not one of those piss-ant, run-of-the-mill "I get three hours of sleep a day" insomniacs either- we haven't had more than three-sevenths of a second's worth of rest since that time we fucked up that armory. You'd be pretty grumpy too if the greatest weapon in your arsenal was taking a fucking nap. I bet the greatest thing you have in your arsenal is something vaguely cool, like a kick to the balls or something; at least you have that.

So, yeah, fuck you. Who are you to judge him? We're the son of the Kazekage, and if he wants to go on a murderous rampage, then, damn it all, he's going to go on a murderous rampage, I'd like to see you try and stop us.

No, seriously, I'd like to see you try. When you're done, we'll use your squishy bits to dress up his brother's dollies, because seriously? That's how we do. Man, catboy gets pissed, but he can't do a damn thing about it because we're fucking Subaku no Gaara. Meow.

"Don't worry, Mother, I'll be sure to feed you lots more blood. And it'll taste good."

I'll admit it, Gaara's twisted. We're a sick, little son of bitch and he hates puppies. And you want to know why he hate puppies? Because they're always so comfortable in their cute, little baskets with their nice, caring families and we can't tear them apart because there are no puppies in the Village Hidden in the Sands. Logic, you fucks.

Which I suppose brings me back to my original point, which is this: Gaara doesn't wish death upon anyone, Gaara wants to kill everyone. And I'm going to help him, because I fucking can.

See, the kid's never been too good at protecting himself, never been too good at watching his own back, and he's so damn desperate for some measure of kindness that he'll do anything for anyone who gives it to him. That's no way to live, with love and hope and gentleness, that's just a fast track to pain and torment, the true "highway to hell" if you will. And if you won't, then kiss my sandy ass.

So yeah, I'll be Gaara's shield, his guardian angel, his own personal Cerberus, and all that other heroic crap, because somebody has to. I'll lash out at anyone that gets too close to us, because that's the only way to survive in this world. I'll make Gaara safe, because he's too soft and too weak to do it himself, the little pussy, and I need the bastard alive. Alive, and relatively sane.

So, if I've got to kill a few people, take a few hits, get him coffee or whatever, I'll do it. Until the day our bond is broken, I'll be his bitch, and he'll be mine.

"Mother?"

I'll keep Gaara away from the pain, I'll be his- what his dad call it?- his ultimate defense. I'll make sure the little baby doesn't cry too much, because, and again, only because, I need him.

"It's alright, Gaara, just make sure to give me some nice, sweet blood next time, okay honey?"

"Yes, Mother, nice sweet blood."

So, yeah, fuck you, and fuck your friends, too. I'm Subaku no Shukaku, ninth strongest demon in the world, possessor of the largest pair of balls in the four hundred and eighty-nine universes, Sultan of Sand, Lord of the Winds, Devourer of Dreams, and I fucking eat puppies.