• Well, we all knew it had to happen sometime. The elders had found out about the 4th Kazekage’s crooked deal with Orochimaru. Without hesitation, they threw him out of his office. Soon after they found out about his frivolous spending on assassins that he knew would have no chance against his son. Not only did he waste tax-payer’s dollars, he wasted ninjas’ lives. He didn’t care at the time. It was all because he couldn’t quite decide if he really wanted his precious youngest child to die or not. Sending ineffective assassins would help him make the decision.
    But now it didn’t matter. The elders forced Kish (that is his name… sorta) to pay back all the money he wasted by putting it back into the treasury. This left Kish destitute and forced to move into a shack. His disgrace spread to his three children as well. Their sensei was given a new team, and it was unlikely that anyone from the village was going to give them anymore missions.
    Life at the shack was all but miserable. Temari was expected to cook everything, but that morning she woke up particularly late.
    “Temari,” a defeated voice groaned from the couch. “Why didn’t you make my breakfast?”
    “Because, Dad, I was sleeping,” she replied.
    “I can’t hear you,” the groan continued. “Come over here so I can look at you.”
    Temari’s face curdled, “Is that really necessary?”
    “Still can’t hear you.”
    Temari sighed and in deep disgust stepped over the mounds of books and empty flower pots. There Kish was lying on the couch covered with tissues and crumbs from potato chips which wasn’t nearly as revolting as the orange froth left on his lips from Cheetos.
    “What is it now, Dad?”
    He stretched his arm out into the air for no reason she could see. “Never mind, you’re useless. Where’s Kankuro?”
    “I don’t know.”
    He shifted the slightest bit which was considered exercise for him. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
    “He’s probably out in the woods hunting for something.”
    “Damn!” Kish cried, “Is he on private property again? That’ll make some officer come, and I can’t take any more of those!”
    Now he was barely making sense. Temari rolled her eyes. “Look, just let me make some eggs, ok? This conversation is a waste of time.”
    “You don’t have to tell me that.”
    Temari fought her way into the kitchen. The shack was a disaster. The smell alone would send most people into convulsions. None of the wood matched from the ceilings, to the walls, to the floor, and it was all rotted. The shack was crammed full of stuff that Kish couldn’t bear to get rid of. The house that he once had was rather large. He had rugs stacked on top of other rugs and vases stacked inside each other. Several lamps were lined against the walls, as were paintings, fake trees, and end tables. The television served as a shelf for piled books and seemingly useless papers. Naturally it couldn’t hold all of them, so many carpeted the floor as well. The closet, which was in the family main room, was made into a laundry room which barely accommodated the smallest washer and drier Temari could find from the dump. Kankuro had managed to restore them to half-way working condition. The dirty clothes were simply thrown on top of the washer and drier, or that is, some of them were. The rest covered the closet floor and was spilling out behind the chair. The kitchen had the most rotted floor of all and there were dishes stacked all over the counters as there wasn’t anywhere near enough room for all of them in the cupboards.
    Temari pushed past the coffee table and opened the refrigerator which was coated in black filth.
    “We ran out of eggs, dad.”
    “What? No! Impossible!”
    “Do you want me to get some more?”
    “Yes,” Kish whined, “Why are you asking?”
    “Because we don’t have much money.”
    “They’re a necessity. Wait, if you run out and get eggs, breakfast will take a lot longer.”
    “How’d you figure out that one dad?”
    “Hey, I know what if you started on the bacon, and then ran out to get the eggs? Then when you came back with the eggs, the bacon would already be done, that way, it won’t take so long.”
    “One problem, Dad.”
    “Huh? What’s that?”
    “The bacon will burn.”
    “Aw!” he cried as if he’d been stabbed. “You’re right!” Then he scrunched his eyebrows together in thought, it looked really hard. “I know, get Kankuro to do it.”
    “I just told you, Dad, he’s out.”
    “Just do it, ok?”
    “What do you want me to do, go out into the woods and shout his name till he comes?”
    “I don’t care how you do it.”
    “But Dad, it might take him forever to answer.”
    “Fine!” Kish cried, “Just get the damn eggs before my stomach cramps any more than it already is.”
    Temari was too annoyed to think any more about the subject. She angrily weaved her way through the huge, decorative pots and almost reached the front door which was barricaded at the moment by another coffee table and an aquarium which was empty except for the numerous dead, corroded fish smashed into the gravel. She yanked them both far enough to open the door up a sliver, she slithered through it and began her journey to the market.
    So what became of Gaara? Well, he had been staying with his sensei (since no one else would tolerate his presence) but now that he was in disgrace, he was thrown out and left homeless. He wondered around breaking into houses and stealing whatever food, coats, or blankets that he wanted. One day though, he messed with the wrong guy.
    This particular ninja wasn’t in a house. He was camping in a tent; he might have been on a mission. Gaara didn’t know. Gaara didn’t care. He strolled up to the man while he was sitting in front of his fire roasting fish.
    The man did not look up. He could tell by Gaara’s footsteps that he was a child, and a somewhat small one at that. “Hello,” he said in a plain voice.
    “I’ve come to take your belongings. Leave now, or I will kill you.”
    The man wasn’t alarmed in the least. “I’d be happy to share some of my fish with you, but the rest stays with me.”
    Gaara closed his eyes and without a work began to make his sand curl around the fire. He wanted the light source gone first for dramatic effect. The events that followed barely lasted a minute. The man calmly and effectively soaked every grain of Gaara’s sand with his atomic fusion water jutsu. The jutsu sunk deep into the ground and covered a mile radius in an instant. The resulting energy knocked Gaara off his feet and drained nearly all of his chakra. Lying helpless on the ground, he watched in terror as the man pulled out a knife and slit his belly wide open. Gaara barely squeaked before his eyes went shut.
    When he awoke, it was just before dawn. He utterly alone and in an amount of pain that he couldn’t handle. He dug his heels into the ground, grinded his teeth and screamed for what seemed like days.
    In reality it was only hours. It was that same morning that Temari was headed to the market. She was walking through that same forest; it was a short-cut to the market. She heard a sound that compared to a cat being roasted alive. Then it would turn into a moaning gurgling sound that was much quieter, then back to the yowling scream. Running swiftly over, she saw her brother with blood and vomit pooled all around him. There was a thick froth running down his chin. His clothes were ripped revealing what appeared to be an intestine.
    “Gaara,” she started.
    His response was to send a handful of sand at her face, but it only went a few feet away from him. Then he buried his face into the dirt and sobbed.
    Temari stooped down and picked him up as gently as she could. Being moved caused still greater agony and he went unconscious again. Temari raced up a tree and went tree hopping as fast as she could go without the use of her arms.
    When she finally got to the shack, she kicked the door brutally with her foot. “Hurry up! Kankuro, Dad, somebody!!!”
    Kankuro came to the door. “Don’t try to scare me like that, Temari,” he said easily. “For a moment there I thought you were…” Then he opened the door. Oh. My. Buddha.”
    “Hurry, get whatever supplies we have,” begged Temari, close to tears. “Get a doctor here as soon as you can, he’s dying!”
    “Right,” Kankuro said stumbling around. “What do you want me to do first?”
    Temari began to charge through the shack kicking rubbish out of her way as she went. “Get me whatever medical supplies we have so I can do whatever I can do while you go get a doctor.”
    Temari laid him on the free couch. Their father was sleeping on the other one, and he didn’t look like he was going to wake up any time soon. Gaara gasped a bit in his sleep, but he didn’t wake.
    Kankuro came over with the first aid kit. Temari took it. “Now run and get a doctor.”
    “None would come, especially for him,” Kankuro wailed.
    Temari closed her eyes in fear and agony. “Then go to the old man.”
    “What?” Kankuro quaked.
    “You heard me,” Temari said more aggressively. “That crazy old man who claims to be a wizard who lives down the bluff. Go get him. I’ve seen him collecting herbs and plants. He’s our best shot.”
    “Right,” agreed Kankuro, and he bolted out the door, using the path Temari had kicked.