Temari sighed and pushed a strand of hair back that had stuck to her sweaty face. "Just a bit longer," said the low voice next to her. "Shouldn't be more than an hour in coming." She tensed at the vicious anticipation in her brother's voice. "Time to gather the villagers then," she muttered, packing up papers and scrolls in her black satchel before leaving the Kazekage's office for the shelter.

Sabaku no Gaara did not reply. His green eyes focused on the slowly dying sun, bleeding beyond the sandy hills outside of Sunagakure. Already he could see the mist of sand slowly rising as a breeze ruffled his russet hair. Turning, he noticed many of his Chuunin commanders and their families carrying covered bowls of food as they headed for the northwest edge of town; the location of the storm shelter.

After changing and putting on his black coat and gourd, Gaara headed outside to face the coming storm. If he was capable of it, he would have smiled.

He had known it was coming for a week. It often baffled Temari and the sand nins under his command, but the sand spoke to him, and his heart was firmly attached to his home of Suna. Even with his horrific past here, he would do anything to protect the village.

/Throw your dollar bills and leave your thrills all here with me
And speak but don't pretend I won't defend you anymore you see
It aches in every bone, I'll die alone, but not for you
My eyes don't need to see that ugly thing, I know it's me you fear/

And if that meant staying outside in a sandstorm to watch for enemies (read-targets) with an ample supply of his natural weapon floating in the air around him, he might even like it.

Actually, he liked it a lot.

Outside the administrative building, he could see the clouds of sand riding on the wind just past the village's boundaries. Stragglers yelped and broke into a run towards the shelter. His sand eye followed them, making sure they reached safety just before the wave hit.

/If you want me hold me back/

Now it rushed in, tearing at his clothes and hair just before he took hold of it with his chakra and surrounded himself in a sphere of energy, blurring the buildings and desert landscape surrounding him.

This was pure power, and it gave him such a rush. He forgot everything in his concentration on controlling the energy, never even lifting a hand.

Then, Gaara's shadow-rimmed eyes caught something unexpected.

/Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail
And so we go back to the remedy
Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie
And tell yourself, "You'll be the death of me"/

The child sniffled and pressed her hot palms harder against her face, trying to keep the sand from blinding her. Her hands and neck were scratched deeply, and her coal black pigtails were blown out of shape.

Gaara lunged, grabbing the little girl and pulling her into the energy pocket he had created, holding her flush against his chest. She gasped and blinked wide eyes up at him. He shifted her against him and refocused on the sandstorm raging around them, growing more violent by the second.

/I don't need a friend, I need to mend so far away
So come sit by the fire and play a while, but you can't stay too long/

The sand flung itself at the young shinobi's atmospheric bubble but Gaara's chakra, combined with some of Shukaku's, held it steady. Sand dug into the walls of the buildings and tore off parts of several roofs; and yet Gaara's fortress still held.

/It aches in every bone, I'll die alone, but not for pleasure
I see my heart explode, it's been eroded by the weather here
If you want me hold me back/

This was one of the worst sandstorms yet this year and it was getting worse. The little girl felt Gaara's chakra level swell alarmingly throughout his body. She turned to look at him. His eyes were closed, brows furrowed, as he strained to control his chakra flow so he wouldn't flatten the child. With a slight chill, she turned to watch the sand outside.

/Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail
And so we go back to the remedy
Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie
And tell yourself, "You'll be the death of me"/

The sand had stopped its barrage and now circled overhead, like an angry eagle, pulled forward by the wind and pushed back by Gaara's efforts. Sweat beaded on the Kazekage's forehead. He knew he was going to be in pain later but this felt so good.

He was surprised that the girl in his grip wasn't whimpering or shaking in fear. She was just as entranced by the sandstorm as he was. She could probably become a powerful ninja if trained the right way.

/Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail
And so we go back to the remedy
Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie
And tell yourself, "You'll be the death of me"/

The sand started to swirl faster and faster, like a vortex. The wind tugged at the forcefield but Gaara and the child stayed put. After a while of this Gaara relaxed his control slightly and opened his eyes to watch the sandstorm slowly dissipate.

It scraped its way downward, spiraling in a tornado. To someone watching, it would remind them of the very symbol of Suna village, the hourglass.

/Hold your eyes closed, take me in
Hold your eyes closed, take me in/

Slowly but surely, the sand spiraled down lower and lower until it settled over Suna with a soft thump. Gaara withdrew his chakra ball as the cool night air blew in. He turned around and walked back to the shelter, pulling the girl with him by the hand.

The tall adobe building was silent, as if it was just another rock outcropping like the ones the village was built on. Gaara pushed open the double doors. It had the effect of a dinosaur suddenly bursting into a birthday party; and the atmosphere had seemed like a party, everyone gathered together for one big event. Everyone fell silent as Gaara and the girl stepped into the storm shelter. Gaara stood tall (as tall as a teenager ordering about a village could) and addressed the elders of Suna.

"The storm is over. You may return to your homes."

As the crowd pushed out of the shelter, giving the Kazekage a wide berth as they did so, the little girl bowed deeply. "Thank you, and bless you, Kazekage-sama," she beamed, then ran to catch up with her parents.

"Looks like you've got a girlfriend there, squirt." Gaara scowled at Kankuro as Temari whacked him sharply with her fan.

"...Thank you Temari." he mumbled. He turned to leave, took several steps, and felt himself fall before he succumbed to fatigue.

He woke up in his bed, one which was hardly ever used because of his insomnia. Sighing, he rubbed the tattoo on his forehead before climbing on to the windowsill as usual. He was not deliriously happy by any means, but this was the closest he ever came to feeling that way.

The sandstorms were Gaara's remedy for the wretchedness he had always known, yet seemed to disappear in a gust filled with sand.

/Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail
And so we go back to the remedy
Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie
And tell yourself, "You'll be the death of me"
Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail
And so we go back to the remedy
Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie
And tell yourself, "You'll be the death of me"/

Song is "Remedy" by Seether.

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