Prologue

Long, long ago in ancient times . . . there were beings beyond that of mankind. Mystical and powerful beings . . .

Angels.

With powers of divine healing, strength, agility, minds, and beauty. Their main attributes were their majestic white wings that protruded from their backs. It enabled them to do something that was impossible to normal humans. Fly. To rule the skies above. The angels were kind, gentle, and loved all things. They surrounded themselves with plants and animals, the angels lived in complete harmony with one another, within the light.

But where there is light, there is also darkness. And every living thing has an enemy. Even the angels.

That enemy was demons. They resided in darkness, hating all and consuming anything they could find. They were malicious creatures, brought forth from hatred and anger. And the one thing they loved to devour was light. And wanted nothing more but to see the mighty angels fall in darkness.

Humans began interacting with the angels, and since the angels were so kind, they welcomed them in with open arms.

But some angels grew curious of their world and ventured out, only to find a world of greed and power-hungry individuals. It affected their pure hearts and they could not fight against it. And once an angel falls into the darkness of the world, they become fallen. They lose their gift of light, and are entered into an evil darkness. Their wings of white turn to wings of black and their minds are no longer loving to others as they had been.

Viewing this, the demons preyed instantly on the fallen ones, warping their minds further into their evil.

The angels also housed prophets, and one fateful day one angel had a vision of their grave demise. Their race would be completely destroyed, save for two. Two babies would be born in the midst of war, both bearing the rest of the great angels' powers. One would be of light, and one of darkness. And both would be the purest of all their kind, the most powerful, and would be the only ones able enough to combine both light and darkness—the two most indestructible elements that make up the very fabric of existence itself. The two fated infants would then be carried away by their angel mothers and be sealed away for protection in two separate lands. There, they would be awakened when someone unlocked their sealing when the time came, and then both angels would meet each other when their older and have fought against their own personal demons. Then, they would realize their full potential.

Working together, the fallen ones and demons stormed the angel's sanctuary and a war began. The angels fought back using their abilities, and numbers began distinctly decreasing. While everything was taking place, so was the prophecy. The rebellion of the fallen ones hurt the angels deeply and they quickly began eliminating the demons, the true source of it all.

Soon, the once glorious angel race had been wiped off the face of the Earth. Their weren't many demons left. Save a few, and the Tailed Beasts that quickly went into hiding to heal their wounds.

All that was left was a small number of the fallen ones- whose wings had been cut cleanly off when the angels were destroyed.

But deep down in different parts of the earth lived the last two angels.

The last two, to save a fallen race . . . A fallen world.

A sharp punch to the jaw sent the tiny girl tumbling to the sand-covered ground below.

"There, and stay out freak!" The man yelled, slamming the door shut to his store.

The little girl, with midnight black hair—all in curls—flowing over her shoulders, stiffly got up, rubbing her jaw before walking to where she stayed at. Her mist-gray eyes clearly revealed the inner turmoil inside her. Loneliness, despair, confusion. Yet, she didn't feel any anger or hate toward the villagers who hit her, called her a "freak" or "monster." She didn't know why . . . she just . . . didn't.

Sighing, she went into a shabby old house that served as her dwelling. She went to the kitchen and tried to find food to eat. She had money, but none of the shop's would let her buy anything or even come in. So she had to scavenge for things to eat.

Sighing again, she decided to just head to bed and call it a night.

                                      ·~♦~·

She didn't really have any plans, since she didn't have any friends.

Friend. That word, that title held no meaning to her . . . absolutely no value. No. It just didn't exist.

It wasn't just the adults who were mean to her, it was also the kids too. So she remained a loner, an outcast.

The little girl survived on her own, day in, and day out.

That is, until one day fate changed for the better . . .

She, Yami, usually wandered about, watched how other kids played together joyiously; why couldn't she ever laugh so freely like that? Was it forbidden to her as well?

So she stopped and simply watched the children play, keeping out of view for them to see and run away in terror.

She gazed silently around until her eyes spotted a boy sitting on a swing, away from the other children. This confused her, why wasn't he playing with them? Becoming closer, she studied him.

He looked to be the same age as her with slightly spiky dark red hair, pale skin, but his eyes . . . they were different from the rest. They were teal green, with deep black rings outlining them. But it wasn't that, it was all of the emotions in them that caused her to gasp.

Loneliness. Despair. Confusion.

Her eyes—and she immediately began feeling a new emotion rise within her. Concern.

Without thinking, she walked over to him, standing in front of the empty swing beside him. He looked up at her in surprise, and she couldn't help the smile that stretched across her face.

"Hello, may I take this swing?" she asked him in a crisp voice that spoke out like windchimes.

Gaara was shocked to say the least, staring at her with wide eyes. "Uh . . . sure," he spoke softly, and she happily took the seat, pleased that he didn't scream or run away. Which was further proof that this boy was different from the other kids.

She swung for a few seconds and Gaara watched her, wondering why she wasn't screaming and running away from him like everyone else did.

She slowly began to stop, concern overriding everything else as she looked back at the boy who was confused about her soft eyes. Eyes that weren't hard with anger or hate.

"So what's your name?" she asked him, trying to be friendly. But her asking him this was a surprise - Gaara thought everyone knew his name, feared it . . .

Gaara smiled timidly before answering. "Gaara. What's yours?"

She smiled back, "Yami Misa. So what're you doing over here all by yourself?"

Gaara then looked down, staring at his hands that were forming fists.

And it did not escape Yami's watchful eye.

"It's okay, I get it." She spoke, causing Gaara to meet her solemn gaze. "You don't have to tell me anything you do not want to."

Gaara's eyes widened at the abrupt seriousness and . . . seemingly darkness in her gray eyes. Almost like his eyes . . .

"Hey! It's stuck up there!" Suddenly came a voice belonging to one of the children playing before, and both Gaara and Yami looked up to see what was wrong.

The ball that they had been playing with was stuck on top of a high cliff, out of their reach. They all started asking each other if anyone knew a wall-climbing jutsu.

That was when Yami saw Gaara summon the sand. It bended to his control, and he used it to swiftly get the ball down. To the kids playing, it would have appeared it just rolled off by itself.

She stared at him questioningly, and he looked down, almost shyly.

"The sand. I don't know why, but I can control it." He whispered and Yami nodded in acknowledgement, staring back at the children who started playing again. Gaara looked up at her hesitantly. "Do I scare you?"

Yami looked at him with a smile, a genuine smile that she has never shown before. It entranced Gaara with the pureness it shown, so open, and kind . . . something he rarely saw from anyone.

"You're special, Gaara. I'm not scared of you." She told him, shocking him still.

"But why? I can do horrible things with it, it's not normal!" Gaara said, as if trying to convince himself. "Why don't you run away in fear of me? Everyone else does . . ."

Gaara looked away again, but what Yami said next made him look back up at the dark girl.

"Because I'm like you. For some reason, everyone has always hated and feared me since I could remember . . . I don't know why, no one ever tells me becuase I never get to talk to anyone." She then smiled at Gaara. "You're actually the first person who hasn't run away screaming. You're the first person I've talked to, Gaara."

Gaara blinked, blushing a little. He didn't know that there was someone else in the village like him. But why her? Why would anyone be mean and shun someone as kind as Yami? He wished he knew, so maybe he could help her . . .

But right now, hearing her story, he knew that all she needed—all they needed—was each other. Friends.

Friends? Why does that word hold so much meaning, yet it's so foreign? Gaara thought before returning a rare smile back at Yami. "Thank you, Yami. You're the first person who understands me, who will actually sit and talk with me like I'm a normal person."

"It's because there's nothing wrong with you, Gaara. And you know something?" she said, standing up from the swing and holding her hand out to him. "Let's stick together. Just the two of us! We'll find out together why they fear us, and put a stop to it." She said with a fierce tone.

Gaara was shocked by what she said but happily agreed. He smiled, and took her hand. "Yeah!"

And so the two joined together, telling each other everything about themselves and becoming something they never knew. Friends.

But, in the darkness, lay someone who was disgusted by the exchange.

With hatred in his eyes he thought bitterly of the two. So the Messenger of Death and the Demon Shukaku are together now? Fine! I'll just take them both out . . .