This story is inspired by Random Dispatcher's story, Snakes and Sand.
Thank you for reviewing!
And yeah, I'm going through all of my first three chapters and changing them. Sorry, I know I made a lot of changes to my story, but I kept coming up with new ideas and stuff, so yeah.
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The Demon Known as Gaara
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This story began in the desert country known as Kaze no Kune (1). It's a typical night in the desert, with a vast clear sky and a moon glowing eerily upon the sand dunes. Tonight, however, a furious sand storm is raging upon the desolate landscape. As we go in deeper into the heart of the country, we came upon a canyon. Truly it's a beautiful canyon, and if we look closer despite the storm, we can see a hidden village dwelling within this geographical beauty. This village is known as Sunagakure; it's one of the five great shinobi villages in the five elemental nations. Of course as a shinobi village, sentinels are put around the walls that lead into the city for security. One can presume that it is a relatively secured location.
Viewing closer upon one of the great mass of sand that was built as a mansion, we can see a crimson-headed six years old boy alone in his room. He is of average height like all six years old, and despite the environment in which he lived in, his skin is pale compared to the other people who lived in the desert. His crimson hair resembled the color that of blood, and is short and wild in style. His lonely teal eyes are surrounded in dark rings from lack of sleep, unnatural in a child of his age. This child is the youngest son of the current Kazekage's (3) three children. Life had been cruel to this child; his mother had died the moment he was born, and almost the entire village both hates and fears him, including his family. It is a sad reality that a six year old can be driven to become suicidal from something that he has no control of.
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He stares at the dagger in his hands. It's a sharp dagger; he's pretty sure of it. Surely a dagger that can slice down a sheet of paper as easily as if it was butter is sharp, right? Raising the dagger, without an ounce of hesitation, he stabs it into the back of his hand, but instead of blood rushing out a burst of sand rushes forth to prevent the dagger from puncturing his skin. He grimace in disappointment and lowers the dagger to his side.
"It's no use... The sand interferes." The sand always interferes. It's like a living being that follows his every footstep to protect him from harm. That part is no trouble for the sand actually, since he lived in a desert after all. It's a good thing he supposed; it's like his very own bodyguard that protects him when he isn't even conscious of the danger around him. As far back as he can remember, the sand had always been there to protect him. With a power such as this the very desert should have felt like a home to him, but it doesn't. He's scared of it even, because it's not his power. It's this demon's powers, this demon inside of his head.
Even without any of the villagers' criticisms, he knew that there is a monster inside of him. Before he was even conscious of the sand, he was aware of this creature first of all. This demon that haunts him in his every dream, in all of his sleeps. Even in his waking moments, the creature would lurk in his head whispering whenever he is most vulnerable. He doesn't sleep anymore, therefore the dark rings around his eyes. If he did, the demon would torment him and eat him piece by piece.
Yet despite all the tortures, the creature would always protect him. He doesn't know why, but he hates it. This hypocritical monster, how dare he torment him until he was bereft of any sleep, and yet still always guard him from any danger. He had wanted to die for a long time. It's a miracle that he had survived from all the lack of affection and lack of sleep; he had heard from Yashamaru that babies can die just from the lack of love and attention. Yashamaru had also told him that every living creature needs to sleep, or they will die. He guesses the only reason that he had lived at all is because of Yashamaru, the only person that would pay any attention to him.
His father resents him; he knows. It's not hard to notice that fact, since his father never bothered to try to conceal it. He's actually surprised that his father still allows him to live under the same roof as him, and kept him well fed as well. Another surprising thing is that his rooms are good and none of his food is ever poisoned. This either portray that his father is either stupid or still considers him as a son, and these were only a small show of kindness. But being the leader of a shinobi village, this may have only been a front though.
As he watches the protective sand particles recedes back into his hand, the door opens behind him. He was so concentrated on the sand that he never heard it. When a familiar voice called out to him, he starts in surprise and turn to face the intruder.
"Gaara-sama," there in the doorway is a man with worried lavender eyes, chin-length caramel brown hair, and a bandage wrapped around his forehead. This man is the younger twin of his mother. Gaara was once told that his mother and his uncle are very close, and that his uncle was quite upset when his mother had died. Since the two are so similar in looks and his uncle so gentle and kind to him, Gaara had come to view his uncle as his own mother.
"Yashamaru," he had never called his uncle anything else but by his given name.
"I was ordered by Kazekage-sama to be your caretaker," his uncle explains for his sudden appearance, and then his uncle saw the dagger in his hand, "please don't do such a thing in front of me again, Gaara-sama."
Although his voice was kind, Gaara couldn't help but feel scolded. He lowers his eyes onto the floor in shame; he didn't want to upset the only person that cares about him. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Yashamaru raising a bandaged arm to scratch the back of his head sheepishly and smiles at him, "But then again, the sand will protect you."
Gaara return his gaze to look into those of his uncle's but lowers them again, "Yashamaru, sorry."
Confused, the older man ponders for a second on what his nephew was apologizing for. Was he apologizing for trying to hurt himself earlier? Or... sighting his bandaged wrist that was lowering from behind his head, he smile, "Oh, this? It's just a scratch." He lightly rubs his bandaged forehead with the tips of his fingers.
Gaara peers through his dark lashes with his head still lowered, he asks timidly, "Do wounds hurt?"
Smiling, his uncle answers him, "Just a little. It will heal quickly, though."
With a pondering frown set upon his face, he asks again, "Hey, Yashamaru...?"
"What."
"What does pain feels like?" He looks at his hand that he was trying to stabbed before, "I've never been hurt before, so I was wondering how it felt..."
His uncle stares at him for so long that he thought that Yashamaru might not answer him at all. But then with a pondering look on his face, Yashamaru replies, "How should I explain this... It's painful and unbearable... Like, when a person is shot or cut, he becomes very ill at ease and he can't think normally." Chuckling sheepishly, Yashamaru scratches the back of his head again, "I can't explain it well, but simply put, it's not a very good condition to be in."
Gaara's guilt is getting to him and his tears are threatening to burst forth from his eyes. He stares at the bandaged wounds on the man before him, "Yashamaru."
"Yes?"
Turning his eyes away from the man, he continues, "Then… Do you hate me, Yashamaru?"
Yashamaru was stunned by that question and he lowers his arm back down again. He watches as Gaara lowers his head even more, trying to hide his facial expression from him. Sighing, he smiles, "People hurt each other and get hurt during their lifetimes. But it is difficult to hate each other."
Gaara snaps his head up at those words, and with a relieved smile on his face he thanks his uncle, "Thank you, Yashamaru. I think I understand what hurting is, now."
"Really?" Yashamaru repeats the question in his mind again. It's not like Gaara had been hurt or injured before, right? The sand is always there after all.
Gaara lowers his head and nods, "Maybe I'm injured, too, like everyone else. But… I always hurt here..." clutching the area above his heart, he continues, "I'm not bleeding, but my chest really hurts here." He won't tell his uncle about the demon tormenting him, though. Telling his uncle such things might scare his uncle away from him.
Yashamaru stares sadly at the boy as he kneels in front of him. Grabbing the dagger from the boy, he slices a cut onto his finger until blood flows freely. Gaara gasps as he stares at the small wound. Why would his uncle do that? Doesn't that hurt?
"You see…Flesh wounds bleed, and they may seem painful... But as time goes by, the pain eventually disappears. And if you used medicine, the wounds will heal even faster." Raising the uninjured hand, that was still clutching the dagger, to his heart, he continues, "But the tricky wounds are the ones in your heart. Those are difficult to heal." They are never easy to heal.
"A wound of the heart?" Gaara is curious. Is there really such a thing?
Nodding, he explains, "A wound of the heart is different from a flesh wound. Unlike a flesh wound, there are no ointments to heal it, and there are times when they never heal." 'Like mine."
Gaara clutches his chest again as Yashamaru continues to explain, "But there is one thing that can heal a wound of the heart."
He stares at his uncle with wide eyes. He wants this cure; he wants it to stop.
"It is a troublesome medicine and you can only receive it from another person."
In earnest, he asks, "What? How can I heal this...?" he stops his questions as he notice that his uncle's attention was now centered on the picture next to them. The picture, his uncle's gaze was focused on, was the only picture he have of his deceased mother. Unlike her twin, his mother has soft brown eyes and a darker hair color.
"The thing that can heal a wound of the heart is... love."
"Love?" It really is a troublesome medicine then, since he never experienced it before.
"Yep."
"How can I get that? What should I do to get rid of this pain...?" There is hope, right? There is a lot more people outside of this village after all, maybe they can help him.
"Gaara-sama, you have already received it... Love is the spirit of devoting yourself to someone important and close to you... It is expressed by caring for and protecting that person." Yashamaru's gaze softens, "Just like my sister... I believe that my sister always loved you, Gaara-sama. The Shukaku of the Sand (4) is a living soul that is usually used for combat purposes. The sand automatically protects you because of love. I believe the will of your mother is inside the sand. My sister probably wanted to protect you, even after her death."
Gaara stares at his uncle with wide eyes that slowly changes into a happy one.
"Yashamaru"
"Yes?"
"Thanks back there... for stopping me."
The older man sucks on his wounded finger with a smile on his face, "My pleasure. You are a person who is close and important to me after all, Gaara-sama."
Gaara smile at his uncle and moves closer to grab his uncle's wounded hand. Staring at it for a moment, he puts the still bleeding finger inside his mouth. He had always wondered on how blood might tastes like. Do they taste like strawberry? Or just like water?
Unnoticed to Gaara, however, Yashamaru's gaze narrows slightly, "Can you feel my pain?"
Gaara lowers the finger from his mouth and after a moment of silence he replies, "It tastes like metal."
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Gaara rushes through the dark street that night, as soon as the sand storm was over, to search for the house of the boy that he had injured earlier that day. He had watched a group of children playing and they had kicked their ball up a cliff. They didn't want to go and get it, so he had decided to help them by commanding the ever present sand to bring the red ball down. Unfortunately like most of the villagers, the children too are afraid of him and had tried to run away. He was so lonely; he only wanted a friend, just one would have been enough. Reacting to his emotions, he had reached out with his sands to grab onto the children and that was how he had injured Yashamaru and the boy he is currently going to give the bag to.
In his arms were a bag of ointments and bandages he had asked from Yashamaru, who had given it to him. Upon reaching the house, he knocks on the door. A boy about a year or two older than him with a bandage on his face slides the door open slightly, and as soon as the boy saw him his eyes widen as he realizes who the person behind the door was.
"I'm sorry about before. It hurt, right? Here, this is ointment. Use it if you want..." he thrust the bag towards the boy, hoping for him to accept it.
Without even reaching out for the bag, the boy shut the door in his face but not before throwing him a scathing remark, "Go home, you monster!"
Trembling in rejection, Gaara drops the bag onto the doorstep and left with a dazed look. Why? He was really sorry. Why won't anybody want to be his friend? With the event of what happened earlier still in his mind, he didn't notice the drunkard who was walking tipsily by. Bumping into him, the drunkard yells at him, "What the... Watch where you're going! You stupid kid!" Gaara turns his head to face the man with a glare on his face. Apparently the man has finally come to his senses and the man's eyes widens in fear upon realization, "You're..."
'Again,' he thought as he remembered those looks so many times before. The words from the boy earlier repeating continuously in his mind, his glare became even icier. 'Those eyes... Why...? Why?!'
His eyes became bloodshot, as sands around his feet rises in agitation. "Hey..." that was the last word of the drunken man as the sand surrounds him and squeezes him to death. Gaara walks away as the corpse falls onto the ground, while people from nearby houses came out of their homes to discover what the commotion was.
"What? What happened?"
"It's Gaara!"
"Hey, he's dead!"
Those were the words that were spoken in fear behind his back as he walks away. As he turns a corner he spots a figure with crossed arms leaning against a building. The man was glaring at him with furious eyes; he lowers his head in shame, 'Otou-sama...' Without speaking to each other, Gaara continues his journey back toward his destination.
But instead of heading straight home, his legs carry him to a roof on a tall building. Sitting on the ridge of the roof, his thoughts wander back to everything that has happened, 'It didn't go well...'
He glares at his hands, which clutches tightly onto his knees, 'Why am I the only one who is a monster? What am I? Yashamaru...'
Sobbing into his hand, he didn't notice the dozen of kunais heading straight towards him until they were interfered by the sand surrounding him. He turns around as soon as he heard the impact to see a masked man in a sand shinobi's uniform with his kunais floating in front of him. 'What?... Why?'
His eyes narrow more and more in anger as he stare at the latest man trying to assassinate him, 'Why do I... Why am I the only one to have to go through all of this!' As the man sends another volley of kunais at him, he intercepts them with his sand and wills them to capture the man before him. Closing his hand into a fist, the sand follows his command as they squeezes the captive until his blood spurts out of the sand. Once the shinobi was decapitated, he drops the unknown assassin onto the floor.
"Who are you? Why...?" he asks in fear and sadness. Noticing the man's bandaged finger with disbelief, he went closer to the man. When Gaara unmask the man, he froze, as the man lying before him was his beloved uncle, Yashamaru.
Yashamaru turns his head slightly to face Gaara, "You are strong, as I suspected... Gaara-sama." Gaara clutches his chest, as a surge of pain attacks his heart. His other hand rise to clutch onto the side of his head as another pain made its appearance known, "YASHAMARU!"
He kneels next to the dying man, crying, "Why...? Why? Yashamaru, why did you... Why? Why?" Rubbing his eyes with a fist, he continues, "You... You... I thought that you were..."
"It was an order." Gaara looks up to his face, "I was ordered to kill you. By your father... Kazekage-sama."
Another dam of tears was broken loose at those words, "Otou-sama did...?" He covers his mouth, as a nauseating feeling erupted from his stomach. "Otou-sama? Why? Why me?" He knew that his father hated him, but he never knew just how much.
As an answer, Yashamaru wheezes out, "You were born with the Shukaku of the sand, and then observed like a guinea pig, Gaara-sama. But since you could not control the power of the living soul, Shukaku, and were unable to manipulate sand on your own... Your existence was deemed a danger to the village. Before that happened..."
A hopeful look came across Gaara's tear and snot covered face, "Then you did this unwillingly because Otou-sama ordered you to..." It was better to hope that the only person who at least cared about him was ordered to and not from his own willingness.
"... No, that is not correct..." Gaara sat stunned beside the man, "It is true I received the order from Kazekage-sama... But I could've refused it if I had wished to. Gaara-sama... Deep within my heart... I hated you. You took the life of my beloved sister when you were born. My sister's memento... I tried to love you by thinking you as her treasured child... But I couldn't. My sister did not wish for your birth. She became this village's sacrifice, and she died cursing this village. After that, I carried a wound that could never heal"
"My sister gave you your name... The child's name that is Gaara. An Asura (5) that loves himself. And fight only for yourself. By doing so, you can continue to exist... Your name carries those wishes. But my sister did not give you the name because she cared for you or loved you. She gave you that name so that you could continue to exist... because she hated and cursed this village as she died, and she wanted her deep hatred... to exist and remain... to let others know of it... You were not loved..."
Zipping open his vest which reveals a series of explosive tags, he smile, "This is it... Please die." A second later, a huge explosion was seen on top of the building. But as Yashamaru's body was destroyed, the ever present sand wraps around Gaara's kneeling form to protect him from the explosion.
Gaara screams out in anger and pain at the painful memories of Yashamaru, while Shukaku wraps the sand around Gaara and carve an insignia onto the left side of his forehead... Ai (6). The demon smirks in sadistic glee, "Isn't this a nice turn of events?"
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(1) Land of Wind - a geographical feature in Naruto. It has a typically dry and windy climate, and is covered in large deserts as a result sandstorms are a common occurrence.
(2) Sunagakure - "Village Hidden among Sand" or "Village Hidden in the Sand" One of the five great ninja villages.
(3) Kazekage - leader of Sunagkure
(4) Shukaku - a one tailed demon. Either a racoon or tanuki.
(5) Asura - an enemy of gods in Hindu mythology, a demon.
(6) Ai - love
This chapter follows the plot of Gaara's memories in episode 76 and 77. But, of course, it doesn't end the same as the original Gaara's memories, because he won't fit into the roll I want him to if it does.
