This is a side project I've been working on. Don't worry, it's not going to interfere with Pivot. I just enjoy having multiple outlets for my creativity, and this story has a very different tone than Pivot, which is why I enjoy working on the two consecutively. Pivot is something of a romantic comedy; this one definitely has something of a tragic undertone.

This story was once posted elsewhere, and I've obviously since moved it over here.

Of course, feedback is always appreciated and welcomed.

When I was a child, there was a Monster that lived in the House of the Sand lord's castle.

I thought the story to be a child's fairy tale Mother told to make sure her children were inside before night fell. And it was, to some extent. There was, of course, no Monster. Not like my parents had in mind.

But my parents' wild imaginations were closer to the truth than they'd ever care to believe.

The sun was setting. In just a little over an hour, the sky would be cloaked in velvet. Mother had warned us not to be late in coming home, but tonight was the fifteenth of May.

Twice a year, once in May and again in August, lanterns were released from the King's palace to honor the birthdays of the Prince and Princess. Never before had Mother and Father ever permitted us to stay outside long enough to watch the floating stars, or to play any of the games the villagers hosted in their booths; we were always expected to be home before the sun set. Oftentimes, my younger sister and I would peek out the single window in our room, hoping to catch a good look at the lights.

But it just wasn't the same.

Groups of men clustered along the sides of the streets, passing around the planks and parts that would be used to assemble their stalls. Hand in hand with my sister, we walked together through the throng of people that had already filled the streets in anticipation of the night's celebration. Shop owners were perched atop ladders outside their stores, stringing small multicolored lanterns along the awnings.

Mother had sent us out with the funds to purchase meats for that night's dinner while Father was away, working as a guard overlooking the town gate. Kyoko tugged gently on my hand, drawing my attention to her. She gazed up at me, a wide grin spread across her face as she pointed in the direction of one of the crowds of men, hunched over a partially assembled stall. Several men stood by, some leaning against wooden barrels as they watched the others talk amongst themselves and gesture to the stall. One man in particular stood out, his large belly spilling over the drawstring of his pants. With one hand, he stroked his beard, his other waving in circles as he spoke animatedly, obviously distressed with something.

Kyoko wanted to say 'hello' the man, Rishi, a fisherman from Tanigakure who often made trips to Sunagakure in order to sell his fish. Although gluttonous and brash, he was a kind, fair man, and one of the few people my sister and I were on a first name basis with.

My younger sister paid no attention to my hesitance, dragging me over to the group excitedly, calling out the man by name. He turned, as did many of the other men, the right corner of his lips quirking upwards. Holding an index finger up to his companions, he greeted us. All business, my sister promptly reminded Rishi of his promise to one day bring one of the "magic lamps" back with him so that she and I could have our wish granted by a genie. Several of the men laughed as they eavesdropped on our conversation, ushering Rishi to "own up to his word". Squatting down onto one knee, the old fisherman locked eyes with my sister, whose face was flushed, thinking the men were mocking her. With a hearty chuckle, he explained to Kyoko that he simply needed more time to find the magical lamp, and that it was proving more elusive to find than he'd initially thought. He asked her what she'd wish for when he finally brought the ornament to her, to which she replied 'goldfishies', knowing well that twice a year, Rishi was the one that operated the goldfish scooping game. The men threw back their heads as they howled with laughter, and even Rishi joined them.

"What would ya do wit a buncha fishes, 'n no water 'n no bowl for 'em ta swim?"

Kyoko frowned, taking his question very seriously to heart. While she pondered his unexpected reply, Rishi turned his gaze on me, and asked me what I'd wish for.

Without missing a beat, I knew exactly what I'd wish for— I desperately wanted to stay out, just once, to attend the festival. Telling Rishi as much, he laughed at my confession, telling me that my father would never allow me to, and that in just a few years I'd be married off to a man who wanted me bearing his children and cooking meals, leaving me no time to "go gallivantin' outside".

Scowling, I reminded him that he was the one who had asked for my 'wish', and called him an air-headed pig. He frowned, informing me that I should respect my elders before returning his attention to his friends. Mentioning something about "finding bolts that fit", he bid my sister and I farewell before he heaved a bag of tools over his wide shoulders and trudged down the road.

Once again, Kyoko tugged on my arm, silently leading me away from the crew of men she was suddenly aware she didn't know. Suddenly aware of the darkening sky, she spoke to me in a hushed tone warnings of Father's impending wrath if we stayed out for much longer. In that moment, I made the decision that would change the course of my life.

I would not wait for some mythical "genie" to come and grant my most desired wish. As a child, I had wanted nothing more than to witness the floating lights. Instead, I had decided that I would be the master of my own juvenile dream.

My grasp on her hand slackened, earning me a questioning gaze from my younger sister. I slipped my fingers out of hers, and I watched as her expression contorted, torn between horror and betrayal as if I'd dealt her a physical blow.

"I'm going to watch the lanterns tonight," I revealed to her softly.

The terror was nearly palpable with my brazen declaration. Kyoko whimpered, shaking her head as she reached once more for my hand. I withdrew from her as her fingertips brushed my own, holding my hand to my chest and well out of her reach.

Kyoko pleaded desperately with me again as I left her side, reminding me of Father's wrath should I come home after dusk, her tiny fists balled stubbornly by her sides as tears pooled in her fearful eyes. Fearful for my sake.

Ignoring her appeal, I called over my shoulder my instructions for her to go home. My sister had not been as taken with the floating lights as I was; to me, they were more than just 'lights'. To me, they were symbolic of the freedom I feared I would never have. In retrospect, it was not lost on me the irony that I was forbidden to set eyes on them, just like I feared my eyes would never see the light of the 'freedom' set outside the shallow class I'd been born into.

I ventured further from my sister, until her quiet sobs disappeared into the noise of the market crowd altogether. Night was nearly upon us, and my eyes kept a careful watch on the sky as I walked. No matter what, I was determined to see the lanterns soar tonight. Even if seeing them meant punishment when I returned home, I had decided that I would not be deterred.

I had just passed the pottery shop when I heard someone gasp, breath shuddering as they inhaled. The voice was followed by a sickening snap and a muffled gurgling noise as something shifted and moved across the desert floor. I froze, skin crawling at the sounds. My head screamed in dissent as I turned to peer into the alleyway, inching forward to inspect the source of the strange sounds in defiance of my instincts. Standing in the alley was a young boy who couldn't have been much older than myself. The boy's body was rigid, his head bowed and his eyes fixated on a rather large mound of sand against the wall in front of him at the end of the alley. Curiosity overtook my hesitance, and I shuffled forward a few paces.

"Hey…"

The child's head snapped up, his body pivoting as he glared at me, lip curling up over his teeth in a distasteful sneer as if disgusted by the sight of me. At the sight of the boy's face, I felt a twinge of fear. Marring his flesh was a tattoo, the kanji for 'love'. More so than the markings, however, it was the expression in his black-rimmed eyes that made me uneasy. I'd thought Father's ire was a fearful thing, but even his malice paled in comparison to the fury reflected in this boy's teal irises. It wasn't his face, however, that made my heart skip a beat in terror.

Were it not for the white sash tied across his chest, I would have missed the blood splattered across his front in contrast against his dark clothing.

From the mound, I suddenly noticed, protruded a foot. Gawking in horror at the allusion of a body, my mouth fell open in a silent scream.

He inclined his head as he continued to stare, the scowl dissipating as a cruel grin took its place on his lips. It was as if he were glad I'd borne witness to the mess that had been made. As if to affirm that twisted thought, the sand at his feet stirred, seemingly of its own accord, much to my horror, rising to swirl at his ankles in an intricate dance. Coiling around the corpse, the mangled body was revealed to me, and I finally found my voice in a blood-curdling scream.

Bloodied and horribly mutilated, the body was that of the fisherman, Rishi.

Tears spilled from my eyes at the death of the trader I'd known since infancy, having been a longstanding friend of Father. Shaking madly, my hands ran through my hair as I sobbed uncontrollably, unable to tear my eyes away from the soiled carcass. It was the telltale sound of a soft, but clear grinding that brought me back to the danger I'd inadvertently placed myself in. The sand had slid from Rishi's corpse, stained with his blood, and was snaking its way down the alley towards me. My heart hammered in my chest as I realized just what had happened to Rishi.

I'm going to die just like that. Broken and pitiful, buried forever under the sand.

My body moved before my mind had given the order. My feet pounded against the sand as I tore across the town on my way home. Somehow, in my juvenile mind, I thought it was a given that my home was my one 'safe spot'. It was my base and my shelter, and no Monster could touch me there.

In my peripherals, I noticed the first few lanterns cresting over the buildings. For the first time in my young life, I didn't care about the lights.

My face red from exertion and the tears I'd shed for my dead friend, I burst through the door and fell to my knees as I wept into my hands. Although incoherent, I remember blubbering about the Monster that had almost killed me. Kyoko fled to my side, forgetting her earlier frustration with me as she tried to calm me, her hands stroking my shoulders silently. Mother was cradling my head against her breast a moment later, asking soft questions of where I'd been and what had happened. My bawling ebbed into contented whimpering at the affection that showered me as my erratic heart began to settle.

I was home. I was safe in the arms of my sister and Mother, and nothing could touch me.

Father was a petulant man, but he wouldn't let any Monster kill his eldest child, right?

Despite the scene I'd made upon my entrance, Kyoko was right. I had still returned home after nightfall and Father was undeterred by her protests that "children will be children", so Mother reluctantly went into their bedroom to retrieve the switch per his demand. Upon her return, he whipped me until my legs were red and sore. This wasn't the first time he'd punished me in this manner, so I knew better than to scream. Giving Father the satisfaction of hearing our cries only made him strike harder, so I had learned quickly to bite my lip.

That night, however, such precautions were unnecessary.

Even after my tears subsided and the punishment began, I had fallen into a state of numbness. Compared to the fear of death I'd faced only minutes ago, this 'punishment' was nothing.

When my skin speckled with blood, he relented, tossing the switch to the floor as he reminded me of how lucky I was to not have been devoured by the Monster.

If only he knew.

Father made me eat the cold rice and fish that everyone else had eaten hot in my absence. I took it without complaint. Four bites into the meal, however, and I vomited onto the floor. Swearing, Father threw a towel at me and commanded that I clean the mess up and get out of his sight. I silently obeyed him, retreating to the warmth of my futon, where Kyoko was already laid.

My younger sister whimpered softly into the fingers curled at her lips as she choked back sobs. She murmured her apologizes, revealing her regret for having not made me come back home with her.

Mute, I returned her gaze. When I didn't answer she began to prod about the circumstances concerning my dramatic arrival home and if I'd gotten to see the lanterns like I'd wanted to. Wide eyed, I sank into the futon, a terrible chill coursing down my spine as I turned away from her in silence. A foreign kind of ache began to blossom in my chest.

I thought I'd feared Father. Up until then, I realized that I'd never possessed the faintest inkling of what fear truly was.

That night, the meaning of what it was to genuinely fear something was born in me.

Side notes:

I'm aware that Yondaime Kazekage obviously has three children, not two. He even went as far as to call Gaara a "failure". I imagine with that kind of relationship, he wouldn't further publicly acknowledge his youngest son. Therefore, I'm having Yondaime launch two fleets of lanterns to celebrate two of his three children's birthdays, deliberately overlooking Gaara's altogether.

Tanigakure — River Country.