Naruto 1. Reincarnation

_Reincarnation;_

_Noun—The incarnation or embodiment of a soul in a new body after it has left the old one at physical death._

This was it.

Holed up in the basement of a decrepit, abandoned apartment building in the slums of Suna—Kiyoshi paid little mind to the fact that his fingertips were turning blue from the cold, that his breath was coming out in small puffs of steam—drifting up in the darkness of the room towards the ceiling.

Pale hands trembling, dirt caked under his fingernails, the man walked over to the shelf—hesitating as he decided who to bring back first. Gut instinct was to bring back his wife or his daughter, but that would bring too much suspicion.

That day would come soon though.

Picking up a small box gingerly, the man spoke softly—as if he was being listened in on right now. "You most definitely left early… didn't you Lady Karura? I felt very guilty for digging up your grave, but it was needed so I could use this technique—I hope you and your family can forgive me for this." Gently setting the box down on the table, opening the lid and transposing all of the contents— an skull, several strands of straw colored hair, and what he knew to be several bones from what had been the woman's left hand.

A wild fit of giggles erupted from the man's lips as he performed the Edo-Tensei, years of research and planning had all come to this point—tears of joy pricking his eye as he realized that he had in fact done it correctly, what had once been a pile of bones laying on the scroll was now the Kazekage's mother—fully in the flesh.

First instinct was to check if she was breathing, if she had a pulse, but as hand drifted through the air to put fingers on her neck—he remembered that this technique did not bring people back to life, just made their souls inhabit their bodies once more. To check her pulse would fruitless. A small chuckle at his own foolishness, Kiyoshi got to work dressing the woman in the cheap set of tan and white robes he had bought from the store.

They would be a bit too large for the woman, but at the very least she would not wake up in a strange place like the slums in the nude. Picking her up very gently after pulling his hood over his face, Kiyoshi carried her out of the building—making sure not to jostle her awake as he stepped outside into the night air.

It was good for him, he thought, that he had found this part of the slums to use. No one came to this part unless they were doing something horribly illegal, and if someone saw him here they would not rat him out. For simply being in this part of the village meant you were here to buy something you most certainly should not, or were committing a murder of sorts. No one in their right mind would incriminate themselves by saying they were here.

Setting the women down, Kiyoshi quickly jogged to an alleyway—peering behind a corner, watching as she woke up slowly and looked about in confusion.

It had worked.

Hurrying to his laboratory, Kiyoshi got to work. He would bring back the Kazekage's uncle next. Then those who had died in the war—or at least those whose bodies had been able to come back to the village were brought back. Panting gently after he had brought back five more people and placed them outside.

There was no way he could continue tonight, almost out of chakra it was all he could do to walk himself to his home. Passing through the entryway, he could not help but smile at the picture of him, his wife, and their daughter, that was hanging on the wall as he closed the door. His voice very soft as he reached out to gently touch the picture frame—a gentle, tired, smile growing on his face as brown eyes looked at the two people he missed the most in the world. "I'll bring you back soon. Akemi, Atsuko. I'll bring you back and we'll be a family again. Just wait a few more days—it will be alright."

* * *

"Yashamaru?"

Eyes opening in the darkness of the night at a voice he had not heard for years, violet irises surrounded by black sclera it took a few moments for the man to realize what was going on, swallowing thickly when he saw the concerned face of his older sister hovering above him. Bolting upright, the blonde man quickly hugged the woman he'd missed so much, hands tightly gripping the robe on her back as he clung to her tightly—tears burning his eyes as he tried not to cry. "Karura-! You're alive—" a small pause as he broke away just enough to look at their surroundings. Something was not right; this was most certainly not what he had remembered last. "I'm supposed to be dead… why am I back…?"

Lips in a thin line, Karura stayed silent as she thought about what could have happened before finally shaking her head. "I don't know… but we'll figure it out together, alright?" smiling at her brother brightly despite the situation and their surroundings, "We always figure it out Yashamaru."


	2. Influenza

**Influenza—Noun; **

**An acute, commonly epidemic disease, occurring in several forms, caused by numerous rapidly mutating viral strains and characterized by respiratory symptoms and general prostration. **

_Cool, pale hand resting gently atop the blonde woman's' forehead, Gaara frowned lightly—the man sitting on the edge of the bed his wife lay on. "Your fever still has not gone away Ami…" the twenty five year old Kazekage retracting his hand, laying it on his lap as he looked down at her in mild concern. She was supposed to be his guard while he left for the Kage Summit—though he had a feeling that she was not well enough to walk around the village without making herself ill enough to go to the hospital, a trip through the desert would be a horrible idea. While her fever was not life threatening to say the least, and she seemed to have a bad flu at the worst, traveling through the deserts of the Wind Country and surviving required being in top shape._

_Looking down at the blonde as she curled herself up under the covers—a soft groan escaping chapped lips as sore muscles strained to make her body move, the corners of Gaara's mouth tilted down into a frown. Sea foam green eyes watching as she shivered lightly, the man found himself half tempted to skip out on the summit to make sure that Ami was well tended to, though he had a sneaking suspicion he would never hear the end of it from the woman if he did so. _

_As much as he loved her, he had to admit that she was quite the nag at times. If she found out that he had skipped the Kage summit to take care of her, he would not hear the end of it for several months if he did so. _

_Sea-foam green eyes looking over to his former teacher as the older man stood in the doorway, Baki giving a small smile and nod—the taller man taking a few steps closer to his former pupil, hand resting on the shorter man's shoulder. "I'll look in on her while you, Kankuro, and Temari are away. Don't worry Gaara." A light pause as he gently squeezed the Kazekage's shoulder in an attempt to comfort the worried man "So just go, alright? She'll be fine. Ami's been sicker and come out the other side perfectly healthy."_

_A small nod at his teacher's words, Gaara placing a small kiss to his wife's temple "Alright. Thank you Baki. You are in good hands Ami—so get better." Chuckling lightly as Ami groaned in response, Gaara straightened up before directing another nod at his former teacher, "Thank you Baki." _

_The tall man watched as Gaara left the room, brown eyes trained on the white robes on his back before looking down at the blonde woman in bed, offering her a light smile before speaking softly. "We'll get you healthy soon Ami, don't worry." A small smile on his lips when she gave a small nod and another groan._

_She would be fine. _

Green eyes opening slowly, slender hands drifting to rub crust from them as Ami sat up in bed—chapped, pink lips turning into a scowl at the strange taste that was making itself known in her dry mouth.

Scratching her head for a few moments before slowly getting out of bed—the bottom of the blonde's feet hitting the cold tile of her bedroom, Ami glancing at the wall clock, wondering why her husband was not in bed with her at this early hour before remembering that he had left for… something important, she was fairly sure.

Her mind, at the moment, felt almost fuzzy—she was unable to quite put a word on it. Perhaps it was the fever, but she could not quite get herself to think clearly. Stumbling towards the dresser—hands resting on the top, tips of her fingers pressing into the wood a bit as she stared into her reflection. The woman frowned lightly as she looked at herself, dark circles and bags under her eyes, skin pallid, covered in a light, cold sweat.

Voice coming out of her lips hoarse, soft, and ragged, "I look like shit…" a small pause, feeling her stomach flip in her abdomen before she groaned and continued, "I _feel _like shit…"

About to make her way to the bathroom to take a shower— sweaty hand running through dirty hair when she heard a noise from downstairs, the woman stopping in the doorway between the bedroom and bathroom as she took pause to try and determine who was in her house, hearing two very distinct, muffled voices.

A man and a woman she was fairly sure?

The male voice did not sound anything at all like Baki—the jonin had a very distinct, rough, gravely voice. This new voice seemed softer, gentler…

Silently making her way to the nightstand, reaching into the drawer and taking out the dagger within—slender hand gripping the handle of it tightly as she crouched behind the dresser, out of sight from anyone who would walk into the room. Ami held her breath, doing her best to clear her foggy mind enough to think of a tactic as she heard someone walk up the stairs and towards the master bedroom—was it the man? The voice was slowly becoming more and more distinct.

Hearing the woman downstairs, muffled, feminine voice ringing out just enough that Ami knew that it was indeed the man coming towards her.

* * *

A light frown on the sandy haired woman's face as she watched her younger brother crouched in front of the door to their old home, Karura wrung her hands together as he began to pick the lock with an old hairpin he had found on the street — what if her husband, Kogane was no longer Kazekage? They would be breaking in. Teal eyes taking survey of all the buildings that had seemingly popped up out of nowhere since she could last remember—all the old landmarks that had seemed to change or be gone completely, Karura was fairly sure that quite some time had passed since she had died. "Yashamaru—I don't think we should be doing this. We could be trespassing."

"We knocked, no one answered. And I am certain that whoever is Kazekage now, if it is not Kogane, would understand why we did this once we explained it to them. Besides, this was the last place we both lived right? We may find out where Temari, Kankuro, and Gaara are." Giving his older sister a small smile as he opened the door, holding it open so she could walk in, "Don't be worried Karura, it's alright."

Stepping inside, the sandy blond man could not help but find himself a bit disappointed at how much had changed since he last remembered—furniture had been moved or replaced, the walls seemed to have been repainted… it was quite different than he remembered. Though, Yashamaru mused, Karura must have been more shocked than he was—she died six years before he did, and judging by the look of surprise on her face, he was right.

Gentle hand patting on his sister's shoulder, Yashamaru gave her a small, comforting smile, "You look around downstairs, alright? I'll go upstairs and see if I can find anything Karura." Walking up the stair's searching for any indication of his nieces and nephews living there, frowning at everything he found.

It was not as if he expected everything to stay the same, but he had not expected everything to change this much. A look in Kankuro's room found that it had been turned into what seemed like a guest bedroom—all things personal removed. Checking in on Temari's room, then his own old room—a small bedroom right next to the playroom that the Fourth Kazekage had kept Gaara confined in—he found that Temari's room had been depersonalized as well, while his seemed to be turned into a small study.

Stepping inside of his old bedroom, sandals padding softly on the tile floor, frown deepening ever so slightly as he looked at everything—a small desk with calligraphy brushes and paper where his bed had been, bookshelves of all sizes lining the wall. Blond man inspecting the bookshelves a bit closer, eyes narrowing in mild confusion as he realized every scroll or book on the shelves seemed to be about either demons, or fighting techniques of the Minamoto clan.

The man extracting a scroll from the bookshelf, taking a closer look at the extremely elaborate chakra seal that was on it—there was no way he would be able to open this, it seemed as if it was for those who were in the clan. Replacing the scroll, standing still as he wondered a bit why that surname seemed so familiar—gut instinct telling him that it had something to do with his nephew Gaara, though that did not make much sense as he thought about it more. A small shake of his head, assuming he would remember it later, Yashamaru left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Opening the door to Gaara's old playroom, eyes narrowing slightly—it had been made into a large bedroom. Taking a few more steps inside, he found himself even more confused. There was no way that this room was Gaara's. His youngest nephew was unable to sleep—if the redhead slept then Shukaku would be released.

Hand raising to run through his shoulder length hair, frowning softly as he scratched at his scalp a bit in confusion before letting out a sharp yelp as he was shoved violently against the wall—indigo eyes meeting fierce, bloodshot, green ones as a blonde woman held a dagger to his neck, blade pressed against his windpipe as she growled "Who are you, and why did you break into my home?"

Instinct from his experience in the ANBU kicking in Yashamaru pushed the woman away with ease, getting into an offensive stance as the blonde woman fell to floor—eyes narrowing before he launched himself at her, "You shouldn't attack without a clear plan." wrenching the dagger out of her hands as he pinned her to the floor.

* * *

Teal eyes rimmed with black sclera narrowed slightly as Karura walked around the lower level of the mansion, so much had changed! A light frown on her lips as she walked into the kitchen, remembering the times she had spent cooking with her young children—though, at Temari and Kankuro's age it tended to be her cooking and making sure that the two of them did not make too much of a mess.

A light sigh escaping from her lips, feeling a soft pang of longing for her children in her chest—Karura let the tips of her fingers trail gently over the countertop as she walked around, taking in every sight, pausing her walking as she noticed a picture frame situated on the counter. Slender hand picking up the metal frame, examining it closely, she could not help the smile spreading on her lips as she realized who was in it.

Black rimmed eyes, bright red hair, she may not have been there for more than a few minutes after she had given birth to him, but Karura knew very well that this was her youngest son Gaara. Though, the main reason behind her smile was what he was doing in the picture—kissing the cheek of some blonde woman in a wedding kimono, Gaara dressed in Kazekage robes. He was married—he was the Kazekage—both he and whoever his wife was, both looked so incredibly joyful in the picture.

It was all she wanted for him, and more.

Holding the picture close to her, Karura quickly made her way upstairs, intent on showing her younger brother the photo—hurrying up when she heard a large thump.

Woman bursting through the door of the room that she had heard the noise come from, shocked to find her brother crouching over the woman from the photograph, dagger in his hand, ready to strike. "Yashamaru! No!" rushing forward—picture and frame falling to the ground as she dropped it so she could grab her brother's hand and keeping her from stabbing the other woman. "That's Gaara's wife! Don't attack her!"

"Yashamaru?" looking at the man above her in confusion, Ami stared at him in confusion for a few moments before looking at the woman who had just burst in as the man slowly got off of her, dropping the knife onto the tile floor. Pale hands trembling just a bit as she pushed herself off of the floor, standing as best she could on her own. "You are… Yashamaru…?" seeing the man nod, Ami looked back to the woman, "Which makes you… Karura…"

Trembling hand running through bright blonde hair, not sure if the strange lightheaded feeling she was experiencing was because she had been shoved to the ground, because she was still sick with the flu, or because her husbands dead mother and dead uncle were standing in front of her.

Stumbling backwards until she was sitting on the bed, Ami rested her elbows on her knees holding her head in her hand as she tried to make sense of this situation before looking back up at the two before her in confusion, "Am I… hallucinating…?"

* * *

**A.N.: Sorry this is so late to be updated everyone! Life got a little hectic, but I'm back, and I'm going to try and update much more frequently! **


	3. Morgue

**Morgue—Noun**

**A place in which bodies are kept, especially the bodies of victims of violence or accidents, pending identification or burial. **

'_What I do,'_ Kiyoshi thought to himself, as he used a thin scalpel to delicately and precisely cut open the dead man in front of him, _'Is surely the purest way to celebrate life.' _ A very light pause as the black haired man let out a small chuckle that echoed throughout the morgue—realizing how strange that thought would have sounded to any other person.

To him however, it rang with a great deal of truth.

Surely, the occupation of being a mortician was not glamorous in the very least—but with the simple slice of his knife, he was able to find out the entire life story of the person before him, without even needing to speak to them once.

People lied.

People hid truths in shame, for fear of ridicule, in fear of harming their loved ones, people lied for more reasons than the pale man had both fingers and toes.

Organs though, organs, tendons, blood samples, muscle tissue, skin cells, these things never lied. He was able to find out who was a smoker. Who was a heavy drinker. Who abused drugs until their heart stopped mid-beat and who had never touched them once in their life.

What was a better way to celebrate life than that?

To find out for certain the way someone had lived—the way they had used their precious few days on the earth?

He could not think of one.

A long sigh as he looked at the young man before him, a shinobi of only seventeen—dead before his time.

Brow furrowing as brown eyes stared intently at the corpse in front of him, wondering how the parents were handling the loss of their child—a pain more horrific than anything else, that he knew all too well.

No parent should have to outlive their child.

It was a hell he would not wish on his worst enemy.

Another sigh, a smaller one, before the man spoke quietly to the boy before him.

"I will bring you back too. Just give me a few days—there are people who have been gone longer than you that need to come back first."

* * *

The look of suspicion on the other's face was a bit annoying, Yashamaru had to admit—though, he supposed that if he was seeing his spouse's dead mother and uncle come back to life, he would be a tad suspicious as well.

Though, the way the young woman's green eyes were narrowed in distrust, the amount of suspicion was a bit more than a tad.

"How—why—" a pause as the blonde groaned in frustration, slender hand running through dirty hair as the sick woman remembered that she probably needed a shower. That was not the biggest of her problems though. "Why are you two back? You're dead—you are dead—you died before I even came to Suna—"

A small smile on Karura's lips as she watched the other fret, able to understand—to an extent, her in laws had never come back to life—why the younger was so confused. "We aren't sure. I woke up in the slums, and I stumbled across Yashamaru. We don't know what happened, really." Teal eyes glancing to her younger brother, reaching out and gentle squeezing his forearm as she saw the mixed emotions on his face, before looking back at the new addition to her family "Are you really married to my little boy?"

Blinking in surprise before giving a slight nod at the question, not entirely sure how to act in this situation—or treat the people before her. Karura, she trusted well enough. The woman was a civilian, was from what Kankuro and Temari said—a devoted mother, and was the one who had been so adamant about protecting Gaara that the sand now defended him.

Yashamaru however, she was not sure if she could trust him. It had only been recently that Gaara had begun to start recovering from the man's betrayal and forgiving himself for killing him.

Coupled with the fact that the man had literally tried to murder Gaara—and was the catalyst that turned him into what was most certainly a psychopathic, blood lusting, near demonic, child for a little more than six years—not mentioning the fact that he had been the Fourth Kazekage's right hand man, and if there was one person in the world she did not trust, it was the late Kazekage.

Rubbing her temples, realizing that she was taking much too long to actually vocalize the answer to Karura's question, Ami gave a small nod before reaching out her hand to shake the woman's, "I am—we got married a few years ago. My name is Minamoto Ami, it is an honor to meet you ma'am."

Indigo eyes trained on the young woman, Yashamaru stayed silent as his sister shook Ami's hand, recalling just a few minutes ago the scrolls he had found in his old bedroom about sealing demons—remembering why the surname Minamoto seemed oh so familiar to the long dead man. "You're Gaara's keeper!" blinking as he realized just how loud he shouted that when he figured it out, blonde brow furrowed a bit in confusion and astonishment.

It had been long ago—oh so long ago that his sister had applied to have Gaara protected. To have someone come to Suna and grow up with him. To make sure he had a companion who would not only make sure he was not alone, but was safe, taught him how to control the demon within him.

Someone to take care of him.

Looking in mild amazement at the woman before him as she sat down on the bed—feeling significantly less annoyed at her now. After Karura's death it had been he who had handled the arrangements to get Gaara a keeper. To help select one that would work well with his nephew's personality—he could remember exchanging letters with Ami's father once she'd been chosen. Her father—Akio, he was fairly sure—went into length about the process of training keepers to be extremely protective of their charges.

It made more sense now, he supposed, that she attacked him.

A very small pause between Yashamaru's exclamation before Karura spoke softly, "You… are his keeper?" smile creeping slowly onto her lips once more, woman more happy than she thought possible to be able to meet whoever it was that kept her baby boy safe.

Teal eyes blinking as a thought approached her, smile faltering by a few millimeters before the woman spoke once more, "Why aren't you with him? I thought you were supposed to be with Gaara at all times? To make sure that Shukaku doesn't take control…" pausing once more, remembering just how quiet the mansion had been when they had entered—how she had not run into anyone downstairs and the only person Yashamaru had found was sitting right before him. "Where are Temari and Kankuro?"

"They're all fine—they're—" a sigh coming from chapped lips, Ami feeling her flu induced headache coming upon her once more. "Gaara had to leave to help plan the Chuunin exams. I've got the flu—so Temari and Kankuro went with him in my place." The sick woman letting silence take over for a few moments—not exactly happy about what she needed to speak about next. "As for Shukaku… he's gone. Gaara does not have him anymore—he lost him about ten years ago."

The silence that came into the room was sudden, heavy, and oppressive, Ami finding herself extremely tempted to avert her gaze after revealing her failure at what was essentially her only duty.

Still, green eyes looked forward into shocked teal and indigo orbs—a need, a desire, a want to own up to her actions now that she was older, now that ten years had passed. To fall into a guilty silence, to allow herself to wallow in self pity at her failures and shortcomings was something she would do as a child, hell—even a few years prior she would do just that.

Now though, now she was twenty six.

She was an adult, she had fought in a war, she had fought against more demons, literal demons than she could count.

Ami would hold herself accountable.

Speaking just forcefully enough to make sure she was not interrupted, but taking care not to sound too callous, the blonde woman began to think of where to start to explain all that had happened while the two were literally six feet under—before letting out one more soft sigh as she began, "Let me start, at the beginning please. It is a long story—so please, just stay with me."


	4. Betray

**Betray;**

**To hurt (someone who trusts you, such as a friend or relative) by not giving help or by doing something morally wrong.**

_This pregnancy was different._

_Just a few weeks in and Karura could already tell that something—something very important was wrong. Was the child sick? She'd only just found out that the treatment Lady Chiyo had given her to keep her healthy was actually Shukaku being put inside of the child within her womb._

_She had not spoken to Kogane since she found out—woman horrified that he would do such a thing without telling her, would do such a thing to his child—that he had been wanting and planning to do something to each of their children so far._

_Karura was not sure how she had not realized this was coming, after so long._

_Still—that was not what seemed so different._

_Whether it was her getting older—though, at thirty she was still young enough to have children, perhaps it was simply the fact there was a literal demon alongside the child within her womb, but the woman found herself feeling more and more sickly as time went on. _

_Ordinary tasks took longer, playing with Kankuro and Temari took tremendous amounts of energy, and as her pregnancy wore on she found herself going to bed earlier and earlier in the evening. _

_It was a bit concerning really, she was only four months along, barely showing—the prospect of this going on for five more months seemed near impossible. _

_Sitting on the edge of her bed—Kogane had been wise enough to sleep on the couch since she had found out—teal eyes stared into the mirror opposite, taking in the pale skin, taking in the dark circles, taking in how sickly she seemed despite the intense medical care she had been receiving. _

_Was she going to die?_

_It seemed strange to think, it really did—especially at her age, but with the way her health seemed to be inclining, along with the gut feeling in her stomach she found it hard to get the thought out of her head. _

_Biting down on her lower lip, finding herself afraid for the child within her—surely it would be strong, but she knew very well how jinchuuriki were treated in this world, and even the strongest child was still a child, and to face that alone would be a very daunting task for anyone, even an adult. _

_Lip bitten until she could taste the metallic tang of blood, Karura let out the lightest of sighs—remembering back to several years before. A conversation overheard and only remembered from how incredibly odd it had seemed. _

_One of the small villages in a little country on the border was home to a clan that specialized in demons, apparently. Something about heritage and bloodlines, she was not sure—but what she had heard that seemed the most interesting was that they not only captured and collected demons, they took care of those who housed them._

_From what it had sounded like, the clan tended to just care for the smaller demons, but perhaps if she contacted them they would make an exception for the child on the way? _

_It seemed strange, that she was more intent on relying on a stranger than her husband to take care of their child—but when it all came down it, Karura could not bring herself to trust the man anymore with their children's care. Perhaps he did truly think this course of actions had been for the best, but when it came down to it those actions had put their children in danger._

_Perhaps—with whoever the clan would send, along with her brother and her two older children, the child within her would be safe. _

_Really, as Karura thought about it—continuing to look into the mirror, that was all she wanted from all of this. Whether it took her dying, whether she lived through this pregnancy, no matter what happened._

_She just wanted her youngest child to be safe in the face of what was going to face them._

Karura could not help but stare, jaw dropped, as her youngest son's wife finished telling her story, not entirely sure how to react. The mother was not sure how she had expected her son's life to go— but to have Gaara turn into what sounded like a near psychopathic killer after her brother died, go through some sort of spiritual transformation after meeting the jinchuuriki from Konoha, become Kazekage only to have his demon extracted and then lead thousands to war—was not anything near what she could have thought.

A glance at her brother— wondering how to handle this information, and judging by the shocked look on his face he was not sure how to handle this information either.

Hand running through his amber hair, Yashamaru kept his indigo eyes trained on the younger woman in front of him—not understanding why she hadn't told Karura the fact that he had tried to kill Gaara. There was no way Ami did not know already—she would have been told, she would have heard somehow—was she keeping it a secret?

It was hard to tell.

Gut instinct was to be grateful but the distrust that was in Ami's eyes made him think that this was not exactly a favor he wanted or particularly deserved.

Indigo eyes darting to his sister, taking in the shocked, almost nauseated look on her face he placed his hand gently on her shoulder and gave her the slightest of smiles in hopes of comforting her, even if it was just a little bit.

His efforts, seemed a bit in vain though—as his sister shrugged off his hand and walked out of the room, muttering a soft 'I need to be alone.' before leaving her brother and daughter-in-law by themselves, the woman needing some space to think, some time to figure out how to deal with all of this information.

A pause, as Ami watched the woman walk out of the room—listening to her go down the stairs and making sure she was out of earshot before looking at the man in front of her, lips set in a grim line—eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she took in his posture, his expression, the way he was looking at her right now in what seemed like both slight confusion and annoyance.

Yashamaru taking a step forward towards the other, indigo eyes narrowing as he spoke, "Why didn't you tell her what I did?" he could not figure out how he felt about the other before him—it seemed obvious enough that she cared for Gaara a great deal, but as for motives for her behavior, as for understanding her and trusting her the man could not bring himself to do so quite yet. Perhaps it would change, he'd only known her for about an hour so far—but if he were to be honest his first impression of this woman was not a good one.

"I'm not sure the best way to tell someone that their brother tried to kill their son, but I am fairly sure hearing it from a stranger is not the best way." A pause, realizing just how harsh those words made her seem judging by the shocked look on the man's face , Ami let out a deep breath—relaxing a bit before speaking once more, "I know that sounds rude, but she shouldn't hear that from me. And to be honest, no one really talks about what happened when he was a kid, so if you don't tell her she probably won't find out—but she shouldn't have to hear it from a stranger. She really shouldn't."

Teeth gritted, jaw clenched, body tense, Yashamaru was not certain how to react at the woman's frankness and candor—while the fact that she had not sugar-coated things was appreciated, she was still a stranger, and the fact that she knew so much about what he had done, and the effects he had on his nephew was unsettling.

Still, looking at the other he was almost certain she meant well enough, even if she was acting in such a way. A nod, from the blond man, swallowing thickly. "I'll tell her later." Not sure when later was—but after all the news they'd received today he was fairly sure that his sister needed a rest and time to process things. A glance back at the other, Yashamaru's lips pursed into a thin line for a few moments as he took in her sickly appearance, "You should rest. You've got the flu."

Indigo eyes watching the woman nod, Yashamaru walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him—stopping in the hallway and leaning against the wall, finding the prospect of telling his sister what he had done not nearly as daunting as seeing his youngest nephew again.

He really hadn't wanted to hurt Gaara.

He wasn't sure how much the other would understand, though.

**Hello everyone! It's come to my attention that some of you haven't realized that this story is a sequel! The story before this is called The Kazekage's Keeper, and if you just click on my profile you can find it! It explains a lot of things that will be referenced in this, and I assure you that reading it will make this much easier to understand!**


	5. Loyalty

**Loyalty; Noun**

**Faithful adherence to a sovereign, government, leader, cause, person, etc.**

The frown, on Ami's face seemed almost permanent at this point—as Baki informed her of all that he and the rest of the council had learned the past twenty four hours, blonde sitting at the dining room table with her husband's teacher the sounds of Karura and Yashamaru in the kitchen able to be heard from where they sat.

Judging by the amount of rummaging through cabinets she was able to hear, Ami was fairly sure that placement of things in the kitchen had changed quite a bit since they'd last been in there.

Still, that was not important at the moment.

Blonde woman leaning back in her chair a bit, one elbow resting on the table as she used that hand to massage her temple, other hand tapping steadily against her knee as she listened to the man before her speak—finding herself more than a bit happy that she had finally gotten better. It had been a few days since Karura and Yashamaru—her mother in law had insisted she be called by her first name and not any titles, and Yashamaru had agreed with his sister.

It was a bit strange, to say the least, to get used to her husband's dead mother and uncle by their first names as they began to take residence in the mansion once more.

A soft sigh, as she listened to Baki speak—the older man just as authoritative as he had ever been, sitting up straight, voice commanding her attention as he alerted her to everything that had happened in the village while she had been recovering from her flu. "There's been about twenty come back to life so far that we've been able to find or that have come to us. Judging by their appearance—the black sclera, the fact that they are dead come back to life, the council believes someone is using the Edo Tensei technique that was used in the war."

"Edo Tensei?" perking up a bit at that piece of information, blonde brow furrowing as the woman leaned forward just a bit, "You mean they're being controlled by someone? Have any of them become violent?" emerald eyes glancing towards the wall separating the dining room from the kitchen—wondering if her recently revived in laws were going to attack like those brought back during the war had done.

Karura wouldn't be much of an issue, she supposed, but Yashamaru could very well be.

Looking back at the man, watching him give the smallest shake of his head before speaking once more, "We don't really know, yet. Everyone seems to be retaining their old personalities from what we've seen—those who have family still alive have gone home, those who do not are being housed in the homeless shelters. No one's caused much trouble." The lightest of sighs coming from the man—half veil he wore fluttering just a bit as the exhale came out of his mouth, "Ami. Gaara, Temari, and Kankuro are coming home today—and once they step through the gates of the village they are going to be barraged by updates on what's happened, information, and requests. It's not the place for them to find out their mother and uncle are back from the dead."

Frown on her face growing more pronounced as she listened to the man speak—really, he had a good point. There was a chance she'd be able to make sure no one told them that Karura and Yashamaru were back while at the gate, but she was near certain that Gaara would be immediately whisked away to a council meeting, and god knew she couldn't control what he was told in there.

That was not to mention Temari who would return home to her husband and child and most certainly learn what happened—while Kankuro had a fair chance of not learning at least until the next day.

Slender fingers pinched the bridge of her nose, blonde woman giving the slightest of nods before standing up—knowing where he was going with this. "I'll tell them. If I go out now I should be able to meet them while they're still outside of the village. It's better they hear it sooner than later, anyways." Standing up from her chair—Ami gave the older man another nod before walking over to the door, slipping on her sandals before looking back at Baki, "I can't speak for Temari and Kankuro—but I'm sure Gaara's going to get whisked into a council meeting the second we get through the gates. Please—try and make sure they don't make anything too personal, Baki."

Watching the man nod, Ami found herself grateful once again that he had somehow made his way onto the council so many years before. Her distrust of the council had not left even after all these years, and to have a friendly face on it was always welcome.

Perhaps it was because he had been gone for so many weeks, perhaps it was because he had not had his wife as company for once in his life, perhaps it was his natural tendency to always be concerned about his village—but Gaara could not help but find himself feeling as if something bad was about to happen.

A glance backwards given to his bickering siblings, the man mused that the feeling he was getting had something to do with the fact Temari looked as if she was about to smack the middle sand sibling upside the head.

Oh well.

At least they would be home, soon.

Pale hands flexing as they walked through the oppressive heat of their homeland, Gaara could not help but frown as he saw an all too familiar figure in the distance as they came up over a sand dune.

His wife.

Fingers grasping the canteen on his hip, man deciding that he must be seeing a mirage of sorts at this point— even if Ami had gotten better right after he'd left, they would not have sent her out on a mission, her being in the desert was not possible. She was his bodyguard, she did not go on missions anymore.

"Oi—" rough voice of his brother sounding out in the buzzing silence that pressed down on the sand dunes, Gaara looked back at the puppet master as they continued to walk, "Is that Ami?"

Blonde brow knitting together as Temari squinted her eyes to look past the hills of tan grit, twenty eight year old nodding at Kankuro's question, "I think it is. What's she doing out here?" Looking towards her youngest brother curiously, wondering if he would have any sort of answer—watching with the lightest of frowns as he shrugged.

The look of concern on his face continuing to grow as they drew closer to the blonde woman, it took a great deal of Gaara's self control to keep him from using his sand to transport himself over to her immediately—was this the reason he had gotten the feeling something bad had happened? Was she injured? Had something happened in the village? Had there been an attack? Pace picking up the smallest of bits—black sandals digging into the sand on the ground, small clouds of grit kicking up behind him as he made his way closer to his wife—voice just a bit too loud as he finally got close enough to speak. "Ami—What are you doing out here?"

Smiling just a bit at the redhead—hands raising up, fingers spread out, palms facing him as she motioned for him to calm down, "I came to tell you all about what happened while you were gone." Able to see the flicker of concern in all of their eyes as the listened to her speak, blonde wondering for a split second whether or not she could have started that out in a better way before continuing, "Everyone's fine—everyone is alright, no one is hurt. But—"

A pause, as she cut herself off—wondering how she could explain what had happened, in a way that would make sense and be gentle enough that they would not be hurt.

"Someone has been bringing the dead back to life. We don't know who, and we don't know why, but someone in the village has been bringing the dead back to life with what Baki thinks is Edo Tensei. There hasn't been any violence yet, but the council is panicking and waiting for you at the gates." Emerald eyes looking into seafoam for a few moments—wondering how Gaara was going to handle the next bit of information, before continuing. "But—that's not the reason I came to meet you all here—I wanted to let you all know—well, two of the people that got brought back were your mother and your uncle. They've been staying in the mansion for the past few days."

It was almost strange, Ami thought, how differently all three of the siblings reacted to the admittedly shocking information.

Temari's jaw clenched, hands forming fists as the blonde, pigtailed woman did her best to swallow down the news, Ami thinking for a short moment that if she had not known the older woman for so long, that she would believe the other was angry instead of shocked.

Emerald eyes darting to the puppet master, Kankuro's hand over his gut almost as if he'd been sucker-punched, eyes wide, deep breaths taken by the brunet in what Ami was fairly sure was either an attempt to calm himself down or keep calm.

Finally resting her eyes on her husband—the man she'd been protecting since she was seven, Ami felt the all too familiar feeling of apprehension rise up in her chest at his lack of a reaction, seafoam eyes almost gaining a coldness about them in what Ami was certain was a type of self preservation.

She'd seen him close himself off many times to avoid getting harmed.

Still, that'd been a habit from a very long time ago—that Ami had admittedly hoped he had gotten rid of, or at least moved past somehow.

Watching the redhead nod at her words, man looking back at his siblings—speaking calmly, nerves collected "You two should go straight to the mansion and spend time with Mother and Yashamaru. I am certain the council is going to wish to speak to me about all that is happening, and I do not wish to make you both wait up. Ami will take over for both of you, since she is doing better."

Dark rimmed eyes watching his siblings nod, Gaara motioned for them to start walking once more—not speaking until they'd reached the gate, telling the council that he did indeed know what was going on, and he was indeed ready for a meeting immediately, followed by a short—almost gruff farewell to his siblings as they quickly made their way to the mansion towards the center of the village. Glancing to his left, making sure that Ami was still by his side despite the throngs of council members following him, Gaara trudged on through the streets of the village, listening to the elders as they informed him of the smaller details he had not been told yet.

Slender hands in her tan pant's pockets, Ami stayed silent as she waited outside of the council room—able to hear the muffled voices of those within, finding herself keeping track of the ups and downs of her husband's chakra to see what sort of emotions he was feeling at the time.

It was a skill that took a long while to pick up, really, and Ami was fairly sure that it would have been much harder for her to do so had he not used to be the host of Shukaku. The large amount of chakra from the beast always made it just a bit easiest to keep tabs on the influxes that went with the moods the redhead felt.

When he was angry his chakra swelled up to a near oppressive point, weighing down on all those who got near—threatening to crush them like he very well could do with his sand.

In his happier moods, Ami had to admit that his chakra felt almost like… nothing, really. She could tell he was happy by the lack of the force that powered his attacks—she could tell he was happy by the very simple fact that when he was happy he was at ease.

Right now though, judging by how his chakra felt—compressed, the large amount rolled together almost, into a small area, spiking every once in a while along with the volume of the voices in the room, Ami was fairly sure that he was frightened, and frustrated at the moment. Understandably so, she supposed—with the situation and the fact that he was surrounded by council members right now.

Who wouldn't be frustrated?

Fairly sure she knew why he was frightened as well—there were very few who had been through what he had and would not be frightened to find out that their mother and uncle were back from the dead.

It really was understandable, and while she had not been through the same—she could sympathize.

Glancing towards the door as the muffled speaking within was cut by what sounded like the noise of people pushing chairs aside and standing up, Ami straightened up just a bit as she stood by the door watching as the men within filed out of the room—her husband leaving last as usual.

The two walking down the hall in silence, emerald eyes staying trained on the man beside her as they made their way to the mansion—woman noticing that they were walking much slower than they usually did on the way back home. A glance out the window—seeing that the sun had long since set, no longer in the highest point of the sky like it had been when Gaara and his siblings had arrived to the village.

Looking back at the redhaired man as they exited the Kazekage's tower, teeth gritting as she saw the cold, almost expressionless mask he had put on himself—Ami grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into a nearby alley. Concern and what almost seemed like frustration written onto her features. "You need to relax, and calm down Gaara."

"I am fine—" brushing her hand off of his collar, almost immediately regretting what he'd said—it had been on instinct, but judging by the frown on his wife's face he was certain she did not believe him. A sigh, as he rolled back his shoulders, teeth gritted for a few moments as the emotionless face quickly dropped. "Look—Ami, I… I—" words caught in his throat as he backed up a bit, gourd on his back letting out a thud as it hit the alley's wall. "I am scared."

An understatement, really—he was feeling so much more than just scared, the emotions coursing through his veins seemed to be about on par with about everything he could possibly feel happening at once. Though, fear seemed to be the dominant one at the moment.

Looking back at the woman before him, not objecting when she cupped his cheek—cool, slender, hand meeting rough sand armor, Gaara hearing the distinctive soft cracking as the sand that clung to his skin began to chip away with the combination of his nerves, and the simple fact she usually had that sort of effect on his sand armor.

"You can do this. Gaara—I know you can do this. I told her all that's happened, and you know what? She's so excited to see you. She loves you Gaara. " smiling just a bit as the crack spread across his face, from his left cheek to right temple, "It's going to be okay. I promise. If I didn't think you could do this I'd be helping you get as far away from it as possible. Have a little faith—you can do this. I know you can, Gaara."

Seafoam eyes looked deep into emerald for several moments, before the Kazekage gave the smallest of nods, leaning into her touch just a bit before speaking once more—voice soft in the desert night, "What happens if it goes wrong somehow? What will we do then?" feeling more and more anxiety and nervousness as it the reality of him not only meeting his mother for the first time but seeing the uncle that had undoubtedly changed him forever finally began to cement for the man. Calloused hands clenched at his side only to flex open, process repeating as he found himself only becoming more nervous as the seconds ticked on—man's entire body tensing up in surprise when he felt her press a soft kiss to his lips.

"I'll be right beside you—it won't go wrong because I'll make sure you're alright, Gaara." Another kiss pressed to his lips, able to feel the man relax as she did so—pulling away from him, slender hand outstretching to hold his. "Let's go. Your family's waiting."

A nod, and the lightest of smiles from the redheaded man, deep breath taken as he walked through the streets once more with his wife, hand in hand, fingers intertwined while the two steadily made their way to the mansion. Taking another deep breath as he stood in front of the mansion's front door, Gaara released the woman's hand to open the door, stepping inside the silent house—taking off his gourd and resting it against the entryway's wall as he gritted his teeth once more in a bit of nervousness.

Looking up as he could hear the soft and steady approach of footsteps, the man could feel his heart catch in his throat as he looked at the woman who was approaching him with a sense of near caution—as one would approach a wild animal that was easily frightened.

It was fitting, really, considering the situation.

Able to hear his heartbeat in his ears as he felt the hot pinpricks of tears in the corner of his eyes—Gaara wondered why the teal eyed woman already had tears nearly pouring out of hers.

"You got so big—" voice cracking as a mixture of emotions crashed upon her, Karura could not help herself from approaching just a bit more to the man before her. The last time she'd seen her youngest he'd looked so frail—so fragile—so ill—he'd been able to fit in both of her hands, but now here he was.

Twenty five and taller than herself.

He looked so healthy and strong.

She really couldn't stop the tears flowing down her face—too happy, too proud, too excited, too sad, too many emotions to really keep them inside, the tears only fell faster when she heard him softly say the word 'mother', her son's posture opening up just a bit—shoulders leaning back arms spreading out just enough for her to embrace him.

Emerald eyes watched silently as her husband embraced his mother for the first time in his life—unable to keep the soft smile off her face as the scene unfolded in front of her.

A thought dancing through her mind for a few moments—as the woman took off her shoes and set them next to the door, the simple realization that this entire situation, the dead coming back to life, could provide the bit of closure that he'd never been able to have before.

Gaara had been healing for so long—since he was a small boy, but now, now it seemed that he finally had an opportunity to move on for good.

Smile on her lips as looked over at Yashamaru—seeing the other watching from the entrance of the kitchen, giving her husband's uncle the smallest of nods as he gave her a light smile before they both looked back.

Really, this had the potential to work out quite well.


	6. Transition

**Transition—Noun**

**The process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another.**

It felt almost strange, really—to keep watching the tearful reunion between her husband and his mother, while touched, and happy he had this chance, Ami was not able to shake off the sense that she was intruding on what was an exceedingly personal moment. A rare thing, when it came to Gaara—after knowing him for what was about eighteen years, moments where she felt that she was not close enough to observe were, far and few between, to say the very least.

Not dwelling on it, not much—attributing it to the very simple fact that she'd only known his mother for a few days now, and while the woman seemed kind and their conversations were pleasant, to say that they were close would be a gross overstatement.

Looking over the newly reunited mother and son for several more moments before quietly excusing herself to the living room—Ami ran a hand through her hair before letting out a sigh, hoping, with all her might that this development would help her husband more than whatever was coming—and surely, something would be coming with the dead rising into the world of the living—would hurt him.

A glance behind her as she walked towards the living room, seeing Yashamaru hovering on the perimeter of the entryway, the man almost seeming nervous or apprehensive to get closer.

She didn't blame him.

Walking into the living room, brow furrowing as she saw a rather strange shaped lump under a blanket on the couch, pausing for a few moments before the recognized the mop of brown hair. Green eyes rolling in their sockets, blonde woman sitting atop the arm rest of the couch, bare feet placed firmly on the cushions before poking the lump with her foot, "Oi. Kankuro. What're you doing sleeping on the couch?"

A loud, annoyed, groan coming from the older man as he could feel a continuous prodding on his shin, tired brown eyes peering over the top of the blanket for a few moments, contemplating how much trouble he would be in if her were to knock her off the couch so he could continue sleeping—before deciding that it was not worth it and propping himself up on his elbows, blanket sliding down to his chest as he started to speak, albeit a bit of sarcasm to his tone "I was tired. That's why most people sleep. You're twenty five now, I'd think you'd know that."

Frown on her lips as she delivered a soft kick to what felt like his kneecap—done more to show her disapproval of his sassing her rather than hurt him. "I mean why aren't you sleeping on a bed—that couch is older than I am. That can't be comfortable." Elbows resting on her knees, as she continued to jab the other in his shin with her foot to keep him awake—knowing just how deeply the other could fall asleep if given the chance.

Pausing, for a few moments, as his tired mind tried to think of a proper answer, grasping through the haze for a small while before finally speaking, "I didn't want to be too far away." Large, tan hands pressing down on the admittedly uncomfortable cushion—Ami was right, this couch was about as old as Temari was—and pushing himself up into an upright position before he looked towards the entryway, able to see his mother and younger brother speaking in hushed tones. Lips turning downwards into an almost unnoticeable frown before he spoke once more, "I… I was two when she died—barely remembered anything about her. I was a little older when Yashamaru died, but he spent so much time taking of Gaara I didn't remember him much either… I want to stay, and be with them as long as I can."

A small nod given at his words, it was not often Kankuro had spoken to her about his mother and uncle—both had died before she had come to Sunagakure, but the feeling she had gotten from when he had mentioned them, be it offhand or a direct mention, he had missed them quite a bit. Which was really, a natural thing, her family was not even dead—she had lef the village at a young age for Suna, and she missed them quite a bit more than she wished to admit.

Not to mention the fact that to show weakness as a shinobi—especially to show weakness as a shinobi of Suna, was certainly a way to be defined as fragile.

Adjusting herself as she sat on the arm rest, feet turning a bit outward into a 'v', arms crossing as she set her forearms onto her knees and leant a bit forward, kind smile on her lips as she looked at the man who had so long been like a brother to her, "You can stay with us as long as you want to, Kankuro." Corner of her lip turning a bit upwards in an attempt to lighten the mood, disliking, really, that he was feeling these things, "I'd recommend that you sleep in a guest room though. This couch will mess up your back if you sleep on it a lot."

"Alright—I'll go make camp in my old room." A deep chuckle coming from the brunet, large hand reaching out and ruffling the blonde's hair, only laughing more as she swatted his hand away, setting the blanket over the back of the couch, black fabric draping over the old, weathered, khaki before he looked at her a bit curiously as he stood up. "Say, Ami… I'm happy my family's back and all… and I'm glad that the other people who've come back aren't being violent but… if a lot more people come back…" brown eyes narrowing, just a bit as he tried to place his words carefully before giving a small shake of his head, "I don't know, I just have a bad feeling about all of this. They got brought back by edo tensei right? That justu never seems to end well for anyone involved."

Instinctively reaching up to her earlobe, pinching it absentmindedly as she thought about a proper way to answer—still unable to kick the strange nervous habit at her age before she gave a small shake of her head. "I don't have a clue how it'll work out Kankuro." Green eyes flitting up to the other as she watched him give a small sigh and a nod before turning around, and walking up the stairs to his old room—perhaps too tired to really start to wonder about his own question.

Staying in her place for several more moments, Ami could not help but wonder about the point he brought up—would this end well?


	7. Routine

**Routine; adjective**

**Performed as part of a regular procedure rather than for a special reason.**

Their mornings always followed the same pattern. Gaara would get up at what his wife playfully referred to as the 'ass-crack of dawn', make coffee and breakfast for the two of them. Ami would then wake up thirty minutes later, come downstairs, they'd share a meal, she would clean up, the two would get ready for work, and would leave an hour after finishing breakfast.

It was almost like clockwork, really, how exact they were with their timing.

Now though, as Gaara rolled out of bed—careful not to wake up his wife, he realized quite quickly that their routine was going to have to change, at least a little bit. Walking to the kitchen, it was quite apparent to the young Kazekage that things would be different. Kankuro sitting at the table—speaking to their mother and uncle as the two blonde's worked on breakfast in the kitchen. A pause, from Gaara as he tried to think of what to do, coffee and tea already made, breakfast on its way soon—it was after a few moments of thought that he simply poured himself a cup of coffee, before sitting down at the breakfast table next to his brother.

It almost seemed surreal—to be able to talk with his mother and uncle. For their family to be together, instead of separated by the great divide that was death. A sip of his coffee—finding it somehow sweeter than it usually was, man accounting it to the way his mother brewed it.

Lips pursed, listening to the awkward conversation flow between everyone—it made sense, that they wouldn't know how to talk to each other. Mother had died when her two oldest children were barely able to put together a sentence, her youngest not even a day old. Yashamaru had died when they were children, not old enough for truly intellectual conversation, or much beyond what was happening on that day.

Seafoam eyes watching as Ami made her entrance just a bit after he started to eat the meal his uncle placed in front of him—almost amused, really at the split second of confusion that crossed her tired face before she realized what was going on, sitting down at the table and thanking Yashamaru as he gave her some breakfast as well.

The rest of the morning went about on schedule, the two out of the door of the mansion a little bit before they usually were— Ami's feet kicking up small clouds of sand as they walked down the street, slender hands in her pockets as she listened to Gaara list off all that they needed to do for the day.

Or rather, what his schedule was, and what meetings she'd be coming with him to.

Only paying a bit of attention to what he was saying as they walked down the street—looking around at the alarming amount of people wandering around, finding herself a bit disturbed at the sheer amount of new dead who had been brought back.

She'd counted fifteen already, and they weren't even halfway to the Kazekage's tower.

Lips pursed, blonde brows knitting together as her husband continued to drone on about the schedule, the woman did her best to understand the strange pit of apprehension that was starting to form in her stomach, as she noticed that several of the recently risen dead were staring at her husband in what she hadn't seen someone direct his way in years.

Hatred.

Fear.

Anger.

Hand retreating from her pocket, grasping the hilt of her sword lightly and loosely in case one of them decided to attack, not entirely sure why, as she started to look more closely at the faces why she seemed to recognize them—though the pit of anxiety and nervousness seemed to grow larger and larger in her stomach.

One man in particular seemed to stand out— Ami grasping her sword a bit tighter as she made eye contact with him. He seemed familiar, leaning against the doorframe of a small shop. Lips pursed in a thin line as she tried to remember who he was, why he seemed so familiar, why he gave her such anxiety that she had not experienced in so many years, the woman could not help but let out a small slew of curse words under her breath when it came to her.

_Ami didn't like her charge. Not in the slightest. He was mean, he didn't want to play, and he kept trying to kill her! A frown, on the ten year old's lips as she walked down the street behind him, arms crossed tightly over her chest, as she tried to fight off the urge to sleep. _

_Her mother had told her to take care of him, to love him, to keep him out of trouble, but Ami couldn't seem to do or didn't want to do any of these things. _

_Honestly, she couldn't see why anyone thought they would ever get along. _

_Still, she protected him. It'd become almost instinctual at this point, to try and ward off any attackers, to put herself between anyone that began to scream at Gaara, called him a monster. _

_Perhaps it had to do with her training. _

_A glance, to her left as she walked with the other in silence, noting a drunk being thrown out of a bar—words slurred as he yelled at the owner, hair messy, clothes torn, and what looked like a bruise beginning to form on his jaw. _

"_Gaara—let's get out of here." Feeling grateful that her charge gave a small nod—really, if there was one good thing about Gaara, it was that he did not attack those that did not attack him first. Granted, the attack could be a verbal one, as well as a physical one, but on the most part, he left people alone as long as they did the same to him. _

_Glancing one more to the side towards the drunk man, Ami noticing that he was beginning to stumble towards them, his anger seeming to be redirected away from the fact he was tossed out of the bar. "Oi!" walking towards the two children, picking up a broken bottle from the neck and brandishing like a weapon, pointing at the redheaded boy "What're ya doing here? Get out'f here ya monster!"_

_Small hand grabbing the kunai holstered to her thigh, putting herself between the man and Gaara, feet firm in the sand though her courage was most certainly wavering. _

_She'd had to kill someone before, and she couldn't find it much in herself to do it again._

_Still, she steadied her hands as the man raised the bottle to swing, readying herself to attack him when a blur of tan grit soared past her face and swallowed him whole—crushing him within a split second. _

_Feeling the all to familiar feeling of her stomach readying itself to vomit as she felt the warm blood of the man splatter on her face, the thought that she should be used to this by now occurs to her. Eyes staying trained on the sand as it returned to the boy's gourd, taking care not to look at what was merely a pulp of blood, flesh and bone. _

_Redheaded boy staying silent for a few moments, a dangerous flash of excitement in his seafoam eyes as began to walk once more down the dark street. "We're leaving."_

Teeth clenching together as she recognized the man—Ami quickly grabbed Gaara's Kage hat off of its place on one of his gourd's straps, slapped it on his head, before tightly gripping his upper arm and leading him down the street as quickly as she could without breaking into an outright run.

How had she not thought of this possibility before? That those who hated Gaara, may come back to life? It was foolish—it was ignorant of her—it was the kind of oversight that could get her husband killed.

Frowning, now that he'd be interrupted so roughly by the other, Gaara really couldn't help but scowl down at the woman as she all but dragged him into the Kazekage's tower— not entirely sure what had gotten into her, "What is wrong with you? " wrenching his arm away from her vice grip, removing the off center, tilted hat from his head, the man continued to his office, hoping for a good explanation from the woman.

"Gaara—" blonde making sure to shut the door behind her, hands clenching into fists as they rapped against the wood for a moment before she spoke once more, "There are more dead come back to life."

More annoyed now, really, as he looked at the other—setting his hat on his desk, "I'm aware, Ami, I saw. That doesn't answer my question, though." The lightest of pauses, "I don't see why you are acting so strange. The dead have been coming back for weeks now, I don't see why you're just now getting upset about it—"

"Some of them out there are people you…" voice faltering, she never enjoyed reminding Gaara of his past, honestly she didn't enjoy remembering his past at all. "You killed some of the people out there, at least one of them. A few of them were staring at you the same way they did when we were kids Gaara, and I recognized one of the men as one of the people you killed when you were younger."

Silence hanging over the room, as the man's face contorted into one of both guilt and worry—not sure what bothered him more.

Was it that he had forgotten the faces of those he'd killed?

Or was it that he had to once again face those who hated him?

Not moving, not speaking, no indication to have hearing Ami's words aside from his hands clenching the desk's edge tightly, knuckles white from the force of his grip.

"What do I do?" breaking the quiet as he looked towards the other, more nervous, more anxious than anything else. "How do I face them? The people I've killed? They won't trust me Ami."

Resting her hand atop of her husband's—finding herself almost as unsure as he was really. There was no clear cut answer that she could see to this problem. Still, she did her best to sound comforting, to ease his worries, "Just keep going like you were. Working with the council to find out why they're coming back. I'll keep you safe—I'll have Kankuro help too, we'll hire more guards if we need to. It'll be alright."

Woman watching his jaw clench and unclench several times, Gaara giving a small nod before relaxing the smallest bit.

Neither entirely sure whether or not that plan would work.

* * *

**{Howdy everyone! I'd just like to apologize first off for how long this update took, and for the lack of action in this chapter! Life got pretty crazy (school, our house is really damaged from a bit of flooding, amongst other things) and writing had to take a backseat. That being said, I'm going to be taking part in Nanowrimo next month, and should be putting out chapters with much more action in them really soon! So thanks so much for being patient, and thanks for reading!)**


	8. Author's Note

Hello everyone! I just wanted to apologize for not updating in almost three months when I said I would update more frequently. I can't really offer more of an explanation other than finals came and went, as did the holidays, and I honestly lost track of time. I can say though that this story has been on my mind almost the entire time, and I have the rest of it planned out. As for when updates come all I can say is they will most likely be sporadic at best, but I will do my best to try to have one out every other week.

Thank you all, and I hope you're having a wonderful new year!

\- Annie


	9. Anxiety

**Anxiety—Noun**

**A feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.**

Ami had never had the luxury of being able to define herself as a 'calm person'. She was quick on her feet, able to think well in crisis situations, but when it all broke down to it, she was a nervous woman. Prone to think that the worse would certainly happen, prone to feel as if there was some sort of weight on her chest when a problem arose until the problem resolved itself.

Now though as she made her way through the streets, left hand pinching her earlobe in a nervous tick she'd picked up from god knows where, right hand on the hilt of her sword, just in case.

More and more the past few days, with dead coming back to life, Ami could not shake off the feeling of dread that had been building within her. She'd been getting the same feeling she had the entire time she had been in her native village just a few years before.

Like there were demons nearby.

Like her life was in danger.

Like everyone's life was in danger.

Still, she wasn't entirely sure that this sort of gut feeling could be trusted. There hadn't been demons in Sunagakure since Shukaku had been extracted from Gaara, and the large beasts chakra still lingered to such an extent that the smaller demons were too afraid of being eaten to come near.

Ami did her best to think logically about the entire thing, and she could feel the anxiety and nervousness lift off of her just a bit, though the ice that felt like it was flowing through her veins did not leave, and the small hairs on the back of her neck refused to lay flat. Taking a deep breath, as she ducked into a corner store, Ami gave a quick nod to the shopkeeper that greeted her.

It would be all right.

There were no demons in Sunagakure.

There was no reason for her to be anxious or nervous or any variation of those emotions.

Though, as she walked through the aisles of the corner store, grabbing a box of green tea and a few other miscellaneous things that they'd run out of at home, Ami couldn't help but remember that there was a good reason to be nervous even if it wasn't because of demons.

The people that Gaara had killed had come back to life, and it was easy to tell they were discontent with their new Kazekage.

Walking with Gaara to work had changed from the special moment they shared together before their busy work day, something private and intimate before the demands of being a Kazekage, a Kazekage's body guard and wife robbed them of any private time together before late that night.

Now though, Kankuro had joined on as an extra bodyguard for her husband—just in case. Until it was decided if those brought back to life could be trusted to not attack him, having an extra person to help protect Gaara seemed for the best. Though he hardly seemed happy about the change. As much as Gaara loved and cared for his brother, he had never been one to like having any guards at all.

Was it pride? Ami still found herself unsure what motivated her husband in that regard.

Deep in her thoughts, she couldn't help but jolt when she felt a hand on her shoulder—letting out an audible sigh of relief when she saw it was Gaara. "Don't sneak up on me like that." A half second's pause, keeping a tight grip on the tea in her hands, "What're you doing here? I though Kankuro was supposed to be looking after you."

"I'm not a child, Ami. I don't need a babysitter." A frown, on the Kazekage's lips as he looked down at his wife. He recognized the danger of the present situation well enough, but getting out and having a moment to himself—at least five minutes to himself, was something that he needed. Not to be followed around by guards. Glancing down and noting the tea in her hand, "I saw we were out of tea, I came to buy some. I suppose you beat me too it."

Lips set in a thin line; quite aware that he was unhappy with the current position they were in. Not that she could blame him, she herself was unhappy with what was going on.

As much as she enjoyed Karura and Yashamaru's company, Ami believed that the dead should stay dead.

Especially after what happened in the war.

"I was just about to check out." Walking over to the shopkeeper and paying him before she strode out of the shop—glad to see that he was still by her side as she left.

It was hard, to be the wife and bodyguard of the Kazekage. She was very rarely able to balance the two. Protecting his emotions, making sure he was happy and protecting him physically very rarely went hand in hand with each other. This was not to say that she didn't love him, she still loved him with all her heart, but it seemed that so many times in their young marriage it came to a choice.

Be happy with him, and willfully ignorant of any danger that may face him, or be careful, be wary—be everything she had been taught to be as his guard, and be tense with him.

Still, she always chose keeping him safe.

She would always choose to keep him safe.

Free hand leaving her side and taking his own in a rare moment of tenderness in the trying times they were in.

The heavy feeling in her chest refused to go away. If anything, it only got worse as they walked back to the mansion in silence. She felt torn, really—torn between speaking to him like a wife. Assuring him that things would get better soon, that they would go back to normal soon, or speaking to him like a bodyguard. That they needed to be careful, that they needed to expect the worst and hope for the best.

Instead she stayed quiet. If figuring out what to say was impossible, perhaps not saying anything at all was for the best.

She was no longer the bride in red she'd been at their wedding. That moment of being able to drop the role of protector, the time when she could pretend that she didn't have an obligation as a shinobi to keep him safe.

Ami had come back from that realization a few weeks after they'd been married.

Setting the box of tea in its place in the cabinet, Ami's hand hung in the air as she felt herself embraced from behind—a rare display of affection from her husband, especially considering they were sharing the house with his family at the moment.

"I love you." The words were whispered in her ear softly—as if he was afraid what would happen if he said something so precious so loudly. He'd become much more comfortable with the concept of love over the years, but that certainly did not make him believe that the words were any less special. Anything less than some of the most important words you could say to someone.

His hold on her tightening just a bit, drawing her closer as his hands closed—holding tightly to the fistfuls of her shirt.

He knew her. He knew when she was nervous. He knew when she was upset. He knew when she was doubting. Learning her body language, the way she held herself the infliction of her tone and what it meant was what had made them such a potent team. It was what had made it so easy to trust her when he became Kazekage and she became his official bodyguard.

Gaara could read her, even if she wasn't using any words.

Still not one hundred percent certain what was bothering her—though he had a fair guess. The dead coming back to life, especially those that he had killed undoubtedly made her more anxious as well—they had the same effect on him. Though, there seemed to be more guilt he was feeling day by day, seeing this strain put on his village, seeing quite literally the ghosts of his past.

"Tell me what's wrong, please."

A lump stuck in her throat, Ami found herself struggling to piece the words together in a way that would make sense. In a way that would be logical. In a way that she could actually describe as opposed to just think and feel. "I'm afraid I won't be able to keep you safe."

Certainly not all that was bothering her, not even the thing that was bothering her the most, but it was all that she could force past her lips. Gaara pressed a kiss to the back of her ear, "I will be alright. I've been through worse than this, we both have." There was a gut feeling that there was more than this—Ami was always worried about his safety, but it didn't typically affect her this much.

If she didn't wish to speak about more, if she wanted to leave it at that he wouldn't force her to speak.

"I know. Thank you Gaara, I know." A weak smile given to her husband as she broke away from his hold on her waist, turning around so she could place a kiss to his cheek, Ami fetching herself a glass of water, the festering feeling of dread in her chest only getting worse as the time went on.

Hairs on the back of her neck standing up on edge once more, Ami glanced out of the kitchen window only to see night falling on the small greenhouse outside their home instead of the demon she'd been expecting.

Lips pursed in a thin line, Ami continued to stare out of the window—looking closely into the twilight. No comment as Gaara walked out of the kitchen, undoubtedly going to check up on his family. Speaking to him about an unfounded worry like this would only cause more trouble for them. There were so many real dangers present at the moment, to introduce the possibility of one more would be more harm than good.

Still, the blonde set the glass in the sink and walked upstairs to the small study where her texts on demons had rested untouched for so many years.

Perhaps brushing up on her knowledge of the beasts would do a bit to calm her fears.


	10. Safeguard

**Safeguard**

_Noun;_

A measure taken to protect someone or something to prevent something undesirable.

_Verb;_

Protect from harm or damage with an appropriate measure.

Gaara liked to consider himself a reasonable man. Perhaps he wasn't entirely in his younger years, but now at the age of twenty four with almost ten years of being Kazekage in his belt, it seemed like a rational thing to consider himself.

Still, it was hard not to be at least a bit annoyed with the developments occurring in his village.

Very happy to have Yashamaru back, ecstatic to finally get to know his mother certainly, but Gaara could not ignore that while whoever had brought them back into his life had also brought back at least one hundred and fifty other dead back to life with more cropping up every day. Found in the slums, each wearing clean but cheap robes, placed in places where they would be found quickly, it seemed as if there was no attempt from whoever was doing this to hide their work.

Though, Gaara mused, there wouldn't be much good that came from trying to hide it. As the smallest 'Great Villages' a sudden population growth of over one hundred and fifty was something that had quite the impact in Sunagakure. The dead didn't need to eat or drink, but the streets were more crowded, the shelters for those brought back with no family to return to were becoming full, and the general populace was buzzing with what seemed to be a mixture of nervousness and anticipation for whatever horrible thing was surely next to follow in this situation. Not that anyone could blame them, surely. The dead coming back to life was a fine wish, but the war had shown them that not much good could come from it.

It could be argued that good came from the Fourth Kazekage, his father coming back, but Gaara couldn't bring himself to dwell on that experience too much. Closure had been brought to him from it, but he still hadn't quite been able to forgive the man for what he'd done.

A sigh, coming from the redheaded man, as his seafoam eyes opened—staring at the tan stucco ceiling above him while he laid in bed next to his wife.

There was a temptation to stay in bed all day. To wrap his arms around Ami's waist and finally allow himself to relax for once in what must have been weeks. He truly enjoyed being Kazekage and found pride in his work, but it seemed as if lately everything was piling up on him and his village.

That wasn't to mention the growing gap between him and Ami. He could tell that something was bothering her, but he hadn't the dimmest idea what it could be.

She'd promised a long time ago never to lie to him—and he trusted that she hadn't, but it seemed that now whenever he asked what was making her so nervous she would just shake her head and tell him that it wasn't worth speaking about. Or that she didn't wish to discuss it. It was frustrating. Not being able to help her with whatever was bothering her.

Breath hitching in his throat as he felt Ami rest her hand on his own, the blonde's body curling up just a bit more into his own for warmth in the cold desert morning. Both spouses awake, though neither quite wishing to speak or move at the moment. A few more minutes of rest before what was sure to be a taxing day seemed like it would be for the best. Gaara pulled her closer to himself, pressing a kiss to her temple. As much as he'd been frustrated with her lately, it hadn't made him love her less.

He wasn't sure anything could.

Eyes closing once more— going through his schedule in his mind before he would actually have to go through the day.

A meeting with the council about what to do as more dead came back, then he needed to speak to the head of the investigatory squad and find out why they still hadn't caught whoever was in charge of bringing back all the dead.

Try to catch a lunch somewhere between these two—lest his wife nag him to eat all while he was trying to finish paperwork and assign missions. Frown coming to his lips—perhaps pester was the better word, nag seemed too harsh, especially when it came from her trying to take care of him.

Another meeting with whoever was in charge with housing all the dead who couldn't find their families—Gaara couldn't bring himself to remember exactly who it was in the morning's haze.

More paperwork to catch up on, what was probably going to be another dinner in the office, and then trying to get home before midnight.

A sigh escaping his lips at the realization that he most likely would not make it home before midnight, Gaara buried his forehead into the crook of Ami's neck, hoping that the alarm wouldn't start ringing for at least a bit longer and allow him this bit of rest before he had to go through the day. Unfortunately, as much as he thought of himself as a reasonable man, he couldn't say that he was particularly lucky, especially now as the alarm clock began to shriek at he pair in bed to wake them up.

"Can we just stay in bed today?" the blonde muttered, resisting the urge to just smash the clock into bits—sure, she'd already been awake, but that didn't mean she enjoyed the shrill chime or wanted to get out of bed and go about her day.

A soft 'No' coming from Gaara as he leant over her and turned off the alarm, not surprised that she didn't want to get out of bed either—honestly, with her as his body guard and shadowing his footsteps all day he would have been surprised if she wished to go about the day.

Groaning softly, Ami rolled out of their bed, arms stretching as the pads of her feet hit the cold tile. Her hand brushing through her blonde hair—making a mental note to get it cut, it wasn't exactly practical to have it all in her face like it was right now. Green eyes glancing to her husband as he removed himself from the warm bed as well, she placed a quick peck to his cheek, a mixture of habit and affection before she walked out with him to the kitchen so they could start their day.

Both a bit surprised to walk downstairs with no breakfast to greet them, ever since Karura had come back she had taken it upon herself to do the cooking. Ami wasn't entirely certain, but she suspected that Karura wanted to at like a parent to her children, when she hadn't had the chance for so many years.

"Mother, Yashamaru, and went to spend the day with Temari." Gaara said, peering down at a small pad of notebook paper, frown light on his face. He understood, certainly, Temari had a son of her own, and it was only natural that Karura would want to spend time with her only grandchild.

He wondered what the boy thought about the fact that his grandmother was—at least physically—younger than both of his parents.

Even Gaara wasn't sure how he felt about that. His mother had died at twenty one, and his uncle at twenty seven. It was more than a bit confusing to look at them at so close to his age and try to figure out how to treat them. It felt as if he needed to balance treating them as his elders, and grappling with the fact that they could very well be seen as his equals.

He wasn't entirely sure how his siblings felt either, the three of them had not exactly sat down and discussed everything quite yet. Not that he was surprised, their father hadn't quite raised them to be open about their emotions and share their feelings.

Starting the coffee while Ami dug through their pantry and cupboards for something to make them for breakfast, both froze as a rapid banging on the front door echoed through the mansion's first floor. Ami straightened herself up as she looked towards Gaara—blonde eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Gaara giving a small shrug and shake of his head before walking out of the kitchen and into the entry hallway.

Calloused hand opening the front door, Gaara looked at the chuunin that had come to him in what was admittedly more confusion. "What's going on? Has something happened?" he couldn't quite think of what could happen—the sun had barely risen yet, he doubted a chuunin would be the one sent to him if there was some sort of attack on the village, and there was no scroll for an 'urgent message' that he could see in the other's hands.

"There's a monster in the well, Lord Kazekage!" shouting, the young chuunin was shaking so much that Gaara wouldn't be surprised if his sandals fell off, "A monster grabbed a child and dragged them into the well! We can't get her out!"

Coming out of the kitchen as she heard the teenager shouting—the boy's voice cracking in his panic. "What does the monster look like?" immediately thinking back to what she had learned about demons that could haunt and hunt in water. She'd brushed off the possibility that demons could come to Sunagakure as insane—Shukaku's presence, even when contained in a human being had scared off smaller demons who were afraid of being consumed, and even after with Gaara's presence and what was left of Shukaku's chakra lingering, none had come yet.

Perhaps that time had finally ended.

"It—I only got a small glimpse of it when I looked down the well, but it was about as large as the little girl, it had… it had a beak, but no wings like a bird…" pausing, the boy's voice hesitant as he continued, still not able to make sense of what he'd seen, "It looked like it had a bowl on its head. I think it had water in it?"

Teeth gritting, immediately knowing what was being described.

It was one of the first things she'd learned about, and the first things she'd learned how to defeat.

A kappa.

They lived in water, they were about the size of human children, had beaks, liked to wrestle children, sometimes adults, into the water and drown them. Kappa's also had a bowl shaped growth on the top of their heads, filled with water. She hadn't heard of Kappa's living in wells before, but Ami had a feeling that it had to do with the fact that there weren't exactly rivers near Sunagakure.

Still, Kappa's were not exactly something fearsome—they'd been the first demon's that keepers were taught of, and it was fairly easy to kill them.

She wouldn't even need to fight it.

"It's no monster, it's a Kappa. They're water demons." Briefly realizing that demons and monsters were considered interchangeable by most, especially by those in a village who was not taught of demon lore besides the tailed demons. Ami put on her sandals and grabbing her sword just in case, even if a Kappa itself wasn't hard to defeat or kill, that didn't mean she still wasn't going to be wary of the dead or even the chance that someone alive would be harboring a grudge against her husband. "I know how to get rid of it. Lead the way."

A glance towards his wife as he put on his sandals as well— it was good to hear that Ami knew how to get rid of whatever was in the well, it was good to know that it was something small as well. Still, the fact that there was a demon in his village unnerved him.

The three of them hurrying over to the well, Gaara couldn't help but worry. He'd seen Ami's home village. Over-run with demons, so much so that she'd even been drafted to come home five years prior to help kill them and control the population of beasts that dwelled in the forest during the day and roamed the streets at night. As much as he thought of himself as a reasonable man, he couldn't exactly reason himself out of this.

Sunagakure was facing enough problems right now. Protecting it from demons was not something that he wished to do.

He'd have to talk to Ami later about this.

The sun rising over the retaining wall of Sunagakure bathed everything in an orange light, and as the trio approached the well, it seemed to make the worried crowd surrounding the fixture alight with flame.

Both Gaara and Ami were able to part through the group with ease, all waiting for the Kazekage or his wife to do something. To fix this.

Ami could hear the splashing in the well, and the child's pained cry for help as she took a step closer. No move to draw her sword, posture straight, expression seeming for the most part unworried and calm. Her voice authoritative while still carrying a tone of politeness, Ami remembered what her father taught her so long ago. Kappa's, while they did drown people, would cease and apologize if confronted during the act. Incredibly obsessed with manners, it was easy to get them to stop as long as you were polite, and very easy to trick them. If a Kappa's bowl on the top of it's head became empty of water, they would die. No need to fight, all that was needed was to be polite and bow.

"Kappa. Please, I need you to bring the child out of the well."

Noticing the looks she was receiving, Ami took note of the parent's shocked expressions. Both civilians clinging to each other tightly—she couldn't blame them. If a demon had dragged her child into the well, she would expect someone to kill the demon, rather than ask it nicely to come out.

Still, she held her ground, as she heard the Kappa crawl slowly out of the well, keeping eye contact as it popped over the rim, one green, scaly arm around the soaking wet little girl. Finally releasing her as it's webbed feet made contact with the sandy earth, the Kappa watched as the child ran quickly to her parents embrace—finally speaking in a soft, raspy voice to the woman who had beckoned it out of its well. "I am very sorry." It had been hungry—with no fish here, none of the crops that it tended to eat, a child coming so close to its home seemed so tempting and so convenient that it couldn't resist.

The demon was quite a bit surprised when the blonde woman bowed to it, though was quick to return the gesture—only realizing it had been tricked when the water had sloshed out of the bowl on its head.

She watched silently, while she straightened herself up—the moment the bowl had become empty, the Kappa had started to disintegrate into ash, soon enough blowing away in the wind. The only indication that the Kappa had ever existed was the frightened child and the webbed footprints on the ground.

Ami would have liked to consider herself a reasonable woman. Still, she had been raised to think of the worst thing that could happen and try to prepare for it. It was what was expected from a Keeper, if you were to protect someone with a demon inside of them you needed to be constantly vigilant, always on the lookout, and never once let your guard down. While she hadn't exactly started to let her guard down after Gaara lost Shukaku, things had felt quite a bit easier, especially in protecting him. There was nothing inside of him for him to fight back anymore.

Going back to her home village to help fight the infestation had been hard—going back to the mindset of there always being something to fight was stressful, was incredibly difficult. Was something that she didn't want to do again.

Still, if one demon had made its way into Sunagakure, Ami had a feeling more would soon follow suit.

Demons followed chaos. Followed death. Followed destruction. Followed the dark.

If the dead coming back to life wasn't the cause of this Ami wasn't sure what else could be.

A glance back to Gaara, Ami could see the same gears turning in his head—she'd told him quite a bit about demon lore. About what drew certain beasts out. What needed to happen to protect people in their home. About growing up where the chance that you would be eaten alive by a beast was about as likely as the chance of drowning in the river.

This was bad.

This was something that made Ami regret ignoring her instincts that had usually proven themselves trustworthy.

This was something that Ami realized she wouldn't just need to protect Gaara from. She was the Kazekage's bodyguard, but as much as she loved him, decisions to protect the village as a whole needed to be taken.

Turning on her heel, she grabbed Gaara's arm and walked with him away from the crowd and back to the mansion so they could get dressed and ready for his workday. The blonde glancing towards her husband, the black cloth of his shirt balled up in her fist, "We're going to need to write to my family about this, we need to ask for help to make sure things don't get worse."

A nod, sea-foam eyes looking forward as he walked down the sandy street with Ami. "Just what I was thinking."


	11. Author's Announcement

Howdy everyone! If you're reading this, thank you for checking out my story this far! If you're wishing I'd update more, then I've got good news! I am going to pick up this story again! But, what I'd like to do first is to rewrite it. I started this story about three years ago, I think, and I'd like to give it the treatment it deserves. So what will happen is this; I'll keep both the Kazekage's Keeper up, and Defined up as well, but I'll rewrite The Kazekage's Keeper and put it up as 'A Keeper and her Charge'. I love the story and world that I created, but now that I'm older and more adept at writing, I think I can make that story even better. So please, if you've liked what you've read, follow me for updates, and I assure you that you won't be disappointed!


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