So I re-edit this to the best of my abilities.

Enjoy.

Gaara sat in his enormous, extravagant recording studio listening to a tone deaf pop star scream her lungs out. Quickly, he slammed down on the "stop" button. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, then said into the audible microphone, "That was utterly dreadful. Get out of my recording studio." The CEO of Sandstorm recording inc. leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair.

"Wait please Gaara!-"

"Don't call him that you ungrateful kid. You only address him as Mr. CEO. And you heard him, get lost. " Kankuro snapped.

"Mr. CEO?"

"It was a spur of the moment thing."

The bleach blonde girl burst into tears and jolted out of the room into the hallway, towards her waiting mother. Many young hopefuls came in that day hoping to have their names known and voices heard. So far, all but one person busted into tears after being humiliated and let go. That one person threw a punched a hole in the wall and was escorted out by security.

"Amazing, ten people in one day and they all sucked." Kankuro chuckled and got up. "I'm gonna go on my lunch break now, you want anything?"

"Yes, big bottle of aspirin." Gaara rocked back and forth in his chair trying to calm down his raging headache.

"Sure." He waved his goodbye and left the room. The curtained window created a shadowy silhouette of Gaara as he sat alone in the darkness. The tightly shut windows blocked out the annoying sounds from the outside. The dark, empty feeling in the room reminded Gaara of how alone he was and how meaningless life was.

He got up and left the recording studio to go into his equally extravagant office room. Upon reaching his mini refrigerator, he pulled out a small guard of chilled sake and left to sit in his overly stuffed cushion chair at his desk. His recording company was the most popular and best music producing corporation in all of Japan. The company produced world renowned artists, from pop stars to rock stars. And yet, none of it satisfied him, what he really wanted was something money couldn't buy. He reached into the secret drawer under his desk and pulled out a worn out photograph. The picture was about two years old and held special memories no one would ever know about.

When are you coming back?

Gaara felt a ripping sensation well up in his chest but ignored the pain.

The picture was of a pink haired girl whose smile radiated like the sun. Her deep emerald eyes looked in your soul, and pale, porcelain skin that was soft to the touch. Gaara looked at this photograph every day, constantly being reminded of how empty inside he was. While he was stuck in Japan with only his shadow as company, she was in France; the city of light, music, and love. By now, she surely must have forgotten about him.

"Sakura."

He put the picture down along with the sake and let his head rest on the cold wooden desk, then slammed a tightly closed fist down on the table. She had sent him letters every week telling him about her adventures. But not once in her letter had she ever written the words; love, Sakura, and soon it all came to a stop. There were no letters, nothing to connect him to her anymore. He re-read the letters over and over again to the point where he memorized them word for word. The pain of loneliness crept into his heart once more and lingered there. For now, he would have to deal with the fact that his childhood love was across the globe. The phone on his desk suddenly rang. He was so lazy to answer, he merely slammed on the receiver.

"What?" He asked bitterly.

"Sir, you have a very urgent message waiting for you." It was the old, brittle secretary.

"This had better be good. Let's have it."

"Well, it's your younger sister, Kyami, well she…"

"Come out with it."

"She tried to commit suicide this morning."

Gaara immediately picked up the phone, "What?"

"Your other siblings Temari and Kankuro are already on their way to the Hospital."

"Why wasn't I informed of this earlier?"

"Well, I didn't want to disturb you-"

"That's bullshit." He slammed the phone down and rushed out of the office, down a flight of stairs, and into the parking lot where he jumped into his black car. He was pushing a hundred on thirty-five speed limit to the hospital, disturbing and grotesque images popped into his mind. He imagined his baby sister ripping her throat out or dismembering herself alive. He always knew she had psychological and mental problems in her life, and felt terrible he could do nothing but watch from afar.

After driving recklessly and nearly hitting every walking pedestrian, he pulled into the hospital parking lot and ran inside. Rushing past other patients and security guards, he saw Temari pace back and forth in the narrow hallway.

"Temari," Gaara ran up to her.

"Oh thank Buddha, come on you are late." Temari shoved Gaara the way in a hurry pace. "She's in room 666."

"What?"

"Never mind that, she's over here."

They both dashed down the left wing of the hospital to the right, then to the left, and up a set of stairs. Rushing past 660,663, and finally 666, hey stopped short and quietly walked into the room. Kankuro was already there and sitting on a wooden stool next to a purpled haired girl in a wheelchair. Her hair was in a pony tail and wearing a loose, white long sleeved shirt with matching capris. Kankuro turned to face them and gave a small nod. Temari led Gaara in and shut the door gently behind them. He walked over to Kankuro and stayed there while he watched Kyami breathe in and out. She was staring at past the window, a blank look on her face. Her jaded eyes expressed no emotion. Temari rushed over to Kyami and embraced her from behind.

"I'm so glad you're alive."

"That makes one of us." Her voice was soft and cold. Gaara noticed that her wrists had many bandages wrapped around them.

Gaara knelt in front of Kyami and covered her tiny hand with his, "Your only fourteen, why would you want to end your life so soon?"

"It is unsatisfying."

" Christ Kyami, scare us half to death." Kankuro spat out.

"Like I care." Kyami looked over at Gaara. "What is the purpose of life? Why are we born? Some say to become something great, some say to find your soul mate to have a family with, and some say to save the world. I do not care about great things, I care not of the affections of others nor do I have a soul, and the world means little too me," She leaned in closer, "What is your purpose Gaara? Why were you born? I see you walk around aimlessly every day in your pathetic life like a brain less zombie, you waste time and energy and fall victim to society's corruption. You have become what I despise most. If I had succeeded in my attempted suicide, would you mourn for me? Like you do for your precious cherry blossom?"

"Kyami, you shouldn't speak to your siblings like that. They're very worried about you." The door quietly opened and closed.

"Stay out of this." Kyami sat back down and rolled her eyes.

Gaara stood up to see who it was, and suddenly, the world stopped spinning. Time was frozen and yet it was moving faster. The face that stood forever in his mind was standing right before him, staring right back with those mesmerizing emerald eyes. Soon memories from the past rushed back into Gaara's mind and forced him to speak.

"Sakura." The name tasted bittersweet on his lips.

She was in light pink scrubs and holding a clipboard in hand. Her smile slapped Gaara in the face telling him this was the real. "Hey Gaara, long time no see."

"It's only been two years, sheesh." Kyami snapped.

Yeah he has a sister, why? Because it's fanfiction and in fanfiction land anything and everything is possible

Ciao.