Happy Birthday
"Why? Why shouldn't I hurt them?" A little boy asked tearfully. A woman, appearing to be in her early twenties hushed him and pulled him back to her chest.
"Shush now," she said, "It'll all be okay." The small red-head was quiet for a moment before scrambling out of her arms.
"Well? Why can't I? I have every right to hurt them just as they hurt me," He screamed. The sand around his feet began to move, swirling around his legs and up his back to where it circled his shoulders. Two hands were formed from the sand and moved towards her. "Why shouldn't I kill them?"
"Because if you did, then everything they said about you will be proven right!" She shouted back, though she moved away, out of the reach of the sandy hands. Suddenly the hands stopped and the sand crashed back to the floor, lifeless as before. The woman sighed in relief before her attention was brought back to the boy by the sounds of his racking sobs.
"Gaara?" She asked and hesitantly brought a hand up to his face to brush away his tears.
"Am I really a monster, Yashamaru?" Gaara asked, his startling, blue-green eyes searching hers. She sighed tiredly before answering, "No, Gaara, you're not a monster."
"Then why do they say I am?"
"Because they're afraid."
"Why?"
"Because they don't understand you. And people are afraid of things they don't understand."
"Are you afraid of me, Yashamaru?" Gaara asked doubtfully. Yashamaru sighed again.
"Sometimes I am." At her response Gaara began to cry again, his small hands forming tight fists and hiding his eyes.
"Oh, Gaara," She murmured and brought him close to her. Sitting him down on her lap, one hand soothingly brushing his auburn hair while the other held him around the waist, she began again, "I'm scared sometimes, but I still love you." For a few moments all that could be heard was his soft sniffling before he brought his eyes up to meet hers.
"Yashamaru, what's love?" He asked quietly, one of his hands tugging at her soft, baby-blue shirt. She laughed lightly and hugged him closer.
"Well, there's many types of love. One is where you'll feel a great, romantic feeling for someone that makes you want to kiss them," She grinned as he made a face, "Another type is a friends love. Where you're such good friends that you're so fond of them that you want to be with them always. Then there's a type of love that you have with family members." He leaned back against her.
"How can I know when I feel love?"
"Feel love? Well, when you look at someone that you like, me for instance, or talk to them, what do you feel?" He gazed up at her questioningly.
"I feel all calm inside." He answered, and she nodded.
"But also, there's a slight tickling, bubbling feeling at the bottom of your chest…" She paused, tickling his stomach and smiling at his laughter before continuing, "And right then, when you feel that, you're feeling love." She smiled down at him. He tilted his head slightly in thought and then nodded.
"And you know what?" She asked, leaning forward towards his ear and whispering like she was sharing a secret. He leaned in towards her and whispered back, "What?"
"Monsters can't feel love." She said softly. He lifted his head and his eyes met hers.
xxXxx
"Come on, kick the ball already!"
"Yeah, yeah, okay…"
Gaara sighed and hugged his small arms around his fragile body. His pale, sea-green eyes wafted over the laughing children; loneliness burning behind them.
"Gaara?" A smile lit his face as the woman's voice drifted to him
"Yashamaru," He said and twisted his swing to meet his aunt's gaze.
"How's your day been?" She asked. A look of pain over came his childish features before his face went blank.
"Fine," He answered, his voice monotone. She sighed and glanced at the playing children.
"Are you lonely?" She asked, tenderly touching his arm. He gave a small nod, sniffling quietly. "Well, you know what?" She continued.
"What? He asked, his voice stuffy.
"Since your birthday is coming up soon, I'll give you a friend." She replied, though frowned as the child in front of her gave a harsh laugh.
"How'll you do that? Nobody wants to be my friend," Bitterness entered his voice as he said the last part. She smiled ruefully at him.
"Well, this one will," She paused before continuing, a smile lighting up her delicate features, "and trust me, though you may not have many friends in your life, someday you'll meet someone who will become your best friend."
"Someone will? How do you know?" Wonderment and curiosity overwhelmed his face and he leaned forward eagerly.
"Because everyone has one eventually," She replied and slumped out of her sitting position and onto the sandy ground as Gaara began to lightly swing. His face lifted towards the sky, a dreamy look cast onto his face.
"But how will I know it it's him when I see him?" He asked, looking away from the sky and resting his gaze on her once again. She shrugged.
"You can't." He sighed, disappointed.
"But I want to be extra nice to him, "He mumbled. She looked back at the playing children and smiled.
"Well, since you don't know who he is, or when he'll show up, if you're nice to everyone, then, once you meet him, you'll be nice to him anyway." He sighed again and glanced nervously at the once-forgotten children.
"Even them?"
"Yes, Gaara, even them."
"But they're mean to me," He whimpered.
"Even them, " She repeated, more sternly this time He sighed dejectedly.
"No, Aoi, don't!" The small yelp went unnoticed by the pair until a ball whizzed towards Gaara's face shortly after. A pile of sand that had been laying at the boys feet sprang up and took the hit for him, letting the ball sink in firmly and placing the ball in Gaara's hands before slinking back to the ground. There was a moment of silence before Yashamaru rose quickly to her feet.
"Who did that?" She yelled. The group of terrified children broke apart leaving one boy standing confidently alone.
"Aoi…" She growled angrily and took a step forward before stopping, a small arm blocking her legs. Gaara stepped forward, the ball still in his hands. His red hair was gently ruffled in the wind as he walked towards the offending child. The rest of the children backed away fearfully and uncertainty shined in Aoi's eyes as Gaara stopped in front of him.
"What? You gonna hurt me… monster?" Aoi asked, his words confident, but fear shook his voice. Gaara shook his head once and sighed.
"No, but… I believe this is your ball." He replied and smiled at the shocked boy before running back to Yashamaru.
"I'm proud of you, Gaara," She said happily. He smiled up at her and took her hand, though the flinch that shuddered through her body went unnoticed.
xxXxx
-Pitter-pat, pitter-pat.-
Gaara stared out the window solemnly. There was a sigh heard behind him but he didn't turn around.
"The rain's beautiful, isn't it?" A deep voice stated behind him.
"Father," Gaara murmured and turned his head slightly towards the speaker. The man sat down beside him on a small, child size stool. His blond hair covered half of his eyes, though still managing to let their vibrant color break through. They sat there for a few minutes, letting the silence hover over them, neither daring to break it.
"What are you doing here?" Gaara asked, not bitterly but out of curiosity.
"Is a man not allowed to visit his own son on his birthday?" The man asked in reply, his bright green eyes sliding over to gaze at Gaara while his face remained pointed at the window. Silence reigned over them again for a moment, both staring out at the rain.
"Did you bring me a present?" Gaara asked hesitantly. His father was silent for a few moments before breaking into a grin. He turned to look at Gaara, a chuckle erupting from his lips. Gaara squirmed uncomfortably under the brittle gaze and turned away from his father.
"Of course I have a present," his father finally cooed, the harsh look in his eyes contradicting the kind tone he adopted. "What kind of father doesn't get a present for his son?" Gaara's eyes brightened and a smile lit his face. He turned back to his father and held out his hands expectantly. His father frowned and swatted the outstretched hands of his son away.
"You'll get it tonight," He growled and turned back to the window. It seemed like the silence stretched over them for hours before he spoke.
"You know, tonight's the night your mother died, five years ago." his father murmured, placing his elbows on the window sill and lying his chin in his hands.
"It is?" Gaara asked. His fathers eyes saddened and his handsome face looked tired and forlorn and broken. The man leaned his forehead against the window pane, urgently seeking the comforting cold it had to offer. Suddenly his eyes darkened and he sat up, ridged.
"It's sad…" He murmured, his eyes blazing angrily at Gaara. "It's sad that an angel like her had to die giving birth to a demon." he spat and stood up angrily. He began to walk, his body taunt.
"Father wait!" Gaara cried, scrambling to his feet desperately. His father paused and Gaara rushed to him, arms outstretched. The older man flinched and shied away, his hands blocking his child.
"Don't touch me." His voice cracked and sorrow filled his eyes as he pushed Gaara away. He hesitated, hovering over his crying child. The look on his face showed the internal battle going on inside him.
"Come to the watch tower at six tonight for your present," regret filled his mumbling voice and with one last glace at his sobbing son he quickly left.
xxXxx
Gaara stepped up the last step on the winding staircase and looked at the door hesitantly. What if his father hadn't come? What if he had forgotten? It wasn't very often that his father would come to see him, let alone give him something, even if it was his birthday. He sighed. Maybe his father was trying to be more of a father to him, even if that did contradict his fathers harsh words and tone from earlier.
He slowly reached out his hand and, twisting the doorknob, opened the door. It squealed harshly, scraping against it's rusty hinges. Gaara quickly retracted his hands and covered his ears as the noise echoed down the stairwell, bouncing off the tower's walls. He stayed in that scrunched position before quickly squeezing through the small opening between the door and the wall that he had opened.
"Father?" He asked quietly, looking around the large balcony. There were no watchmen, which surprised Gaara; his father was not a man to take security lightly. He walked to the edge and leaned against the railing, staring at the setting sun intensely as the orange and yellow colors draped themselves across the clouds like ancient goddesses. Maybe something had come up, being the Kazekage was not easy; he would wait.
-Thud, thud, THUD!-
Gaara's large eyes widened and he stiffened, feeling the vibration of the knives sticking into the sand which was pressed against his back. The sand threw the kunai back as Gaara twirled towards the attacker, both moving as one. Two of the kunai pierced the attacker with a solid thunk! while the third flew past.
A sharp cry shattered the air as the attacker crumpled to the ground. She, for though any curves were covered by bulky layers the lightness of the yell revealed the gender, lay still and after a moment of hesitation Gaara moved towards her. He hovered around her for a moment before he reached down and yanked off the flap of cloth that attacked to her helmet and covered the lower part of her face.
"Yashamaru?" Gaara cried, his blue-green eyes widening in shock.
"Ah, Gaara…" She murmured her voice rough.
"Yashamaru…" He looked around frantically, "W-what are you doing? H-help! Somebody help!"
"Stop, stop, stop. No one will hear you. No one's around; your father made sure of that.
"Father?" She nodded before turning away, coughing. Gaara winced as he saw blood dribble out of her mouth and down her chin before she wiped it away.
"I was never very useful to your father, I'm not very strong, which is why he sent me." She murmured staring blankly at the blood on her hand.
"He sent you? So you had to do this? You still love me?" He questioned, hope rising in his chest.
"Love?" She began to laugh, though ended up just coughing, "Love you? No, Gaara. I never loved you. No one will ever love you. You're a monster, remember? It was all pretend Gaara. I was acting."
"W-why??" HE asked, drawing away.
"Because the Kazekage, your father, ordered me to." Her hand shot out, and pulled him close so that their faces were inches apart. Her breath was coming out in hissed wheezes and her eyes were wide, bugging out of her skull.
"Congratulations," She hissed, pulling him down further so his ear lay beside her lips, "Happy birthday…" Her voice had become a whisper, a hushed breath, and she pulled out an object, placing it in his hands. Her grip on his collar loosened and her hand slipped back onto the ground, laying beside her still body.
Gaara stared down at the bloodied object in his hand, a teddy-bear, and tears slipped down his cheeks, landing on the teddy-bear's stained fur, and making clean streaks in the blood.
xxXxx
Dark. Everything was dark. And blank. There was nothing. Maybe he was finally dead. All he could recall was fighting the clay man, his blond ponytail flying out behind him and a cruel smirk cast upon his face, reminding him of his father. And then? Everything was blank.
"Gaara?" The voice was faint, distant. He almost didn't hear it. Gaara… Was that his name? And that voice… It sounded familiar.
"Gaara?" Oh. Naruto.Hmm, was he dead too? No… There was light now, and an ache too. An ache that stretched all over his body, laying underneath his skin. The light was coming in as little slits and was opening, becoming more full now. Bright colors filled Gaara's gaze and immediately he saw a figure sitting beside him, crouched over him in worry. Bright blue eyes searched his green ones frantically. Orange. All he ever wore was orange. Such a beautiful color.
"Naruto…" He had to say he was slightly disgusted that his voice came out as a croak.
"GAARA!" The blond yelled ecstatically, a goofy grin stretching across his face. Mmm, defiantly Naruto. No matter how much his appearance changed he was always the same bubbling idiot. "You're alive!" Laughter burst out Naruto and he lifted his face up to the sky.
"Obviously," Gaara mumbled and leaned against his elbows, struggling against the pain that shot through him at the motion. He stared fondly at the blond.
"Though you may not have many friends in your life, someday you'll meet someone who will become your best friend." The words echoed in his mind, and he smiled, a true smile that he yanked out of his heart. No matter how many lies his Yashamaru had told him, there was definatly truth in that one statement. He did have a best friend and he was right there, sitting beside him laughing loudly. And he definatly did feel love, a friends love.
"Monsters can't feel love." He murmured lightly.
"What?" Naruto asked, looking down at him.
"Nothing."
The End