A/N: This series more or less will reflect on Gaara and his customers. Mostly Vets after the last war conflict. Obviously this may involve some adult, or otherwise mature themes. So if you're not ok with that you've been warned. But for the most part I look forward to using this piece as a way to explore some more serious topics concerning ptsd, mortality, etc. Also no ninja is out of the running for a chapter, so I'd love to hear your suggestions. But anyway, peace

-Sober T

xXX

A glass of whisky and a near empty box of cigarettes sat peacefully on a table stand next to a busied tattoo artist. The glass routinely being plucked from the table every time the owner dried up his customer's blood with a readied rag. The alcohol numbed the elongated sense of time passing and the nicotine calmed the nerves, making for the steadiest known hands in the tattoo business.

Gaara is 28 years of age. A red haired tattoo artist on the south side of kohnoha. Originally from Suna, he found he was to Konoha after the last Great War, preferring to serve the rest of his ten year stent as a reservist away from home. His tattoo parlor is said to be the best in all of Fire country, famous for their lead artist's realistic depictions on the human canvas. He'd tattooed on Great War heroes such as 6th Hokage and even the fresh recruits leaving the military academy in this peace time era. 16 year olds leaving with a flag of their village's honor carved into their arms and on their backs.

" Show me a man with tattoos and I'll show you a man with an interesting past." The body beneath him was in a deep slumber, mesmerized by the buzzing of his tool and the carefulness of his gentle hand placement. " I wonder, what brought you into my shop?"

Gaara paused as he dabbed at the copious amounts of blood on the mans forearm. Another wartime vet that came in drunk of his ass looking for something to remind him of his "Honorable" service in the 4th Great War. This time A raven haired man with equally dark eyes. Sasuke Uchiha.

A war hero in his own right. It's said when the draft came he was exempted, being the only remainder of the Uchiha family after the first preemptive strike of the sound village. An entire clan of Uchiha lineage was wiped out in an instant after bombs dropped in Konoha, leaving little sasuke all alone. But when push came to shove, he volunteered to avenge his fallen.

Avenger was an understatement, the man had shot through 30 plus men in the war effort. A fact that most would have issues sharing, but he seemed to have no trouble relaying his life story to Gaara before he drifted off to sleep.

"Hey" Gaara nudged at at the avenger with a gloved hand. "She's done." The man awoke with a a few disgruntled noises, clearly feeling the effect of his recent alcohol choices.

The Uchiha had sat through 16 hours of special attention. A double arm sleeve that told everything there was about him.

A bloodied battlefield atop a grave yard. Scattered swords and spears littered the black ground beneath them as some men charged forward as others coward in fear of the oncoming assault of men and and the hell rain of arrows. The men were distinctly dressed in the uniforms of there village, leafs bearing on the backs of their aggressors and distinguishable musical notes atop the heads of the fallen. All covering his right arm from shoulder to wrist.

" Can I ask who she is?" Gaara motioned toward the left arm. The beautiful face of a crying woman covered the inside of his forearm, a river of tears covering her young face as she looked up above. Above to a dark demon of a man, draped in a dark suit of armor, only long raven hair and red eyes visible from the neck up. His piercing looking sticking out on Sasuke's otherwise flawless skin.

" Hn." Sasuke straightened himself out as he walked to the mirror to admire the work Gaara had done. Traditional black ink was the shade he insisted on, color seemed to be to lively for the image he wanted to depict. He flexed in the mirror, a pair of pants and fresh ink the only thing covering his body in the cold room.

"My wife, Sakura. We married right after the great war." Sasuke seemed to have no particular interest in the topic at all. But she must have meant a lot of he so easily displayed her on his arm, right?

"She was a childhood friend of mine, obsessed with the very thought of me. She even followed me all the way to the battlefield..." His gaze fell to his for arm as he a he flexed his hand closed and open, wrinkling the look of her cheeks on her crying face. "She even patched me up when a sound solider shot me down, I owed it to her to finally marry her."

"Then why the tears?" Gaara typically waited for the end of his sessions to pick at his own curiosities, he didn't want to make the mistake of making his clients second guess their tattoo decisions. It was his job to make whatever his clients wanted, but these things were for life.

" Well... I reenlisted yesterday. There's been talk of sound terrorist in the east, laying waste to some small villages. I'll be damned if they take back what so many sacrifices took to save." Sasuke loosely threw on his black tank top, Sitting back down so that Gaara could wrap up his arms.

"I take it she's not following your lead this time?"

"Nah. Our daughter, Sarada... she's four years old now. If I let a world exist where anybody could threaten her safety like that, I'm not sure what I'd do. There's a reason we're tossing spears and swinging swords, instead of guns on my arm."

Gaara looked up from his patting as he put a bloody cloth down in favor of some non adhesive wrapping.

"Enlighten me."

"Damn, I think it's possible you talk less than I do." A firm nod was all the red head gave as he continued his work. Stopping occasionally to correct small spots of shading. " Well there something more personal about all of this. Any coward can sling a few slugs into somebody. But it takes a man to kill a man with a sword, or a knife, hands..." Sasuke closed his eyes as he leaned back into the chair." But then there's me. A sniper, the "elite". I've killed 36 people through the scope of a rifle. Picked their lives carefully from existence with my own eyes and watched from afar as they dropped dead amongst their friends, or even next to their fallen comrades in some cases. But never had I had the blessing of not knowing wether or not they died. I shot every. Single. One. With a fatal blow, I was the last person to see the look painted on their twisted little faces. The Raven they call me. Do you know what that's like man? To play God like that."

" To kill? To kill from afar? Or the silly nick name." Garaa finished up as he rose up and made his way to the couch in the corner. "Trust me, I get it. And I'll remember every single one until the day I die."

"You were there?" Sasuke found himself making his way to the ATM in the waiting area, 1,500 had been the agreed upon price before they'd started.

" Demon of the sand. At your service." Gaara said as he gave a mock salute and walked over to sink into his couch." Just another run of the mill sand hick turned soldier, I've seen my fair share of death Uchiha. The coping gets easier. "

"What about the nightmares?"

"The only way you'll ever stop seeing their faces is if you join them six feet under. I'm afraid It's up to you wether or not that's worth it." Gaara responded.

"Hn." Sasuke placed two stacks of bills on the table, about a 1,000 dollars each before he made his way to the exit. " I guess we'll just have to let the battlefield sort that one out... keep the change. You'll be seeing more of me Demon." Sasuke left with a curt nod of the head, seemingly less confident then when he had come in, his heart painted more clearly on his shoulder, a pain for the world to see.

"Poor bastard." Gaara lit another cigarette as he closed his eyes, leaning back into the couch to relax after the extensive session. " He'll need more than just his body to tell that kind of story."