Gaara; Good, I hate doing these things.
LC; Just do it already!
Disclaimer; I don't own Gaara-chan or Naru-chan...YET!
He was on another trip to the Leaf village, talking about the upcoming war. His escort was none other than Naru Uzumaki. Even after nearly four years since the day she showed him the light, he didn't understand her.
How could someone who held the light, fall into darkness? She hid it well, he noticed, her smiles never lost their sheen.
But he knew it was fake, because he had seen. He had seen her without the make-up. He had seen the bruise. It was purple and black, and on the right cheek.
He hadn't even known she wore make-up, until he'd seen her casually wipe the sweat from her brow, wiping some of it off. He couldn't help but wonder, how many more bruises were she hiding under those bulky clothes?
The orange jump suit, was it the only thing she could wear that covered them? Was that why she wore it? Watching carefully, he noticed she had a slight limp.
You wouldn't notice it unless you were comparing her footsteps to your own. She was good at hiding it.
How long had they been hurting her? The villagers of the Leaf? His own village had feared and hated him, but now they accepted him. He had made many friends, and had even become Kazekage!
And yet, these people, could not see her light? Naru had always given her all to protect the village, yet still they only saw an old relic they wished would dissappear.
How much longer would she take it, before she snapped? And when?
He wished he could help her, wished he could show her the same light she'd shown him. But even as he watched her shine that fake smile, even as he watched her skip happily to the ramen stand, even as he watched her pig tails bounce in the breeze, he knew she was beyond saving.
She knew full well their feelings toward her, and she felt their awful stares. Those same eyes that had once driven him to kill, were slowly driving the one who'd shown everyone the light insane.
And he did not know how to give her new light, as he watched her own fade.
No one could last forever under this pressure, but Naru was not a no one. "Naru?" He paused on the street, waiting for her to turn to him.
"Yeah Gaara?" She answered, turning around to see what he wanted.
"Why do you wear make-up?" He didn't want her to be scared off before he could help her.
The smile fell from her lips, and her face grew melancholy. "I was wondering when you'd ask." She muttered darkly, before raising her gaze to his once more. "If the one who bears the light through the darkness themself becomes lost, who will be there to show them the way?"
He took her hand, hesitantly. The contact still shocked him to the core, and he did still avoid it when not necessary. "The one who now knows the path, thanks to the light bearer."
Her smile returned, but this one was smaller, more apologetic. "Gaara, I'm glad I have someone like you who knows my pain."
How could he have known, that would be the last time he talked to her? If he had known, he would've gone for help. If he'd known, he'd have stayed with her.
If he'd known, he would have killed anyone to change it.
But he hadn't known what that day was to her. Why she wanted to leave before the festival even began. Or why she had seemed so sorry for something he knew not of.
Because if he had, he would have stayed with her, until it was over.
Because there was some people, the proud few, who hold the light, but can never see it themselves. And like all these other few, Naru had shown the light to others, to help them out of the darkness.
And like them, the burden would break her.
When he went with all of their friends to get her for the festival, he found the note, he found Naru. Let it be written, that it wasn't just his eyes that swam with tears.
And he was not the only one, to cry for the loss of the light.
At the funeral, he found that Naru had been loved by many. But those many, hadn't even known her. The her that wept, the her that frowned, the her that hid her injuries.
All they had known, was a mask.
In the end, all Gaara could do was pray she'd be reborn as somebody no one could hate. Because in reality, that was all she had ever asked of anyone.
"Please don't hate me." Was all she asked.
She was an angel with a broken wing. So all they could do was love her. Because after all, it was all she had ever asked for, and the only thing, she had never recieved enough of.