A Bride From Konoha

17: Obsession

The smell of blood filled his nostrils, fueling his dark anger onto crushing the skull and decapitating the enemy's head ruthlessly. As the blood splurged and spluttered, the enemy's body was shaking and swaying without its head before it went limply onto the ground.

Gaara was turning onto his heels just the right time as one of the enemies sprung onto his back. Sand blocked the attack before ruthlessly crushed the body tightly, as the sounds of bones crushing and the ninja's screaming echoed throughout the open area.

He snarled viciously while shooting his sand directly toward two other ninjas who lunged at him. They should have known they would never win against him in open-space battle as he could wipe them so easily. If they would ever think he had the slightest soft spot in his heart, they were sorely mistaken. Even without Shukaku taunting and laughing gleefully at the smell of blood, he never had mercy toward his enemy.

He yanked the hair of the last shinobi hard, bringing his bloody face upward. "Speak. Who sent you?"

Unfortunately, Gaara didn't get the opportunity to know his attacker's identity as two other shinobi lunged and attacked toward his back. He turned to pound as the sand was too preoccupied warding off another attack, out of nowhere, a kunai struck and managed to slice his back.

The pain was unbearable; his chakra, in conjunction with his sand, exploded and blew up the areas, causing the earth to shake and trembled. Debris and bloody pieces of bodies, flying out in the mass of dust, coating the land with fresh blood and foul stench lingered in the night air.

Gaara commanded his sand to push the dunes and covered the area. Grains of sand had flown upward before settled down and they left no stain of battle. The Valley of Mist, this was what the villagers called for this place was now being freshened again as chilly night air rushed in, replacing the foul smell.

He went to the stream to wash as his robe drenched with blood and the foul smell was still clung onto his skin. He closed his eyes and inhaled the fresh air, hands clenched in the water as the ice-cold temperature helped him to tone down his dark excitement and to regain his composure.

Judging from the battling technique, they were not a bunch of people who just had coincidentally killed the caravans for fun. They had a mission, and their mission tonight was to kill him. And damn it, he began to suspect this group might have a link with the new notorious group led by the Uchiha.

He wiped his face and glanced at the west, contemplating the part of the sky which was brightened by the many lights from the village.

You love this village, don't you?

Gaara closed his eyes wearily. Damn her for complicating his life lately. He had never needed somebody when he was too overindulged in his dark side of his lonely life. But now, he craved her warmth and softness. He needed her laughter and teases to purify his corrupted heart.

He rose from the stream and walked toward the light. The village was his. The people were his. And the pink haired woman was his to keep.

Even it meant to imprison her in his village forever.

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A guard's shouting caught Kuroki's attention. The guard waved with a torch, signaling the gates to be opened. He watched as Kankuro the puppet master rushed to the gate openings with several other ninjas. Out of curiosity, Kuroki went to the opened gates to join them.

"What happened?" He asked the nearest guard

"The kazekage has returned with his group." The guard replied. "They said it was a trap. Instead of hunting the criminals down, they were being ambushed. Many men were down." He gestured to the injured ninjas who were being treated by medics.