Siblings of Suna
Laughter was heard in the Kazekage mansion, where three children live with their father and uncle. One laugh was from an eight-year-old girl with sandy blonde tied into two small bunches and dark blue-green eyes. Another was given by a seven-year-old boy with messy brown hair, dark blue eyes and purple paint on his face. The final sound was made by a young boy of five with poppy-red hair and happy jade eyes. They were the siblings of the village hidden in the sand. The children of the Kazekage. The sand siblings of Suna. Children. Family.
Temari was always intruded by the art of the fan and began to be taught to wield the element of which their country was named. Wind. It was her favourite ninja art and she was destined to become a master of the fan when she grew up, according to her teachers at least. The Kazekage, her father, was pleased with this and proud to have such a power at his disposal. Not proud of his daughter. Proud to have her power.
Her younger brother, Kankuro, loved puppetry and began to carve wooden toys at the age of six. He had been making them for a year and was very good at it. One of the main purposes for his hand-crafted play-things was to entertain his baby-brother. His father often asked him whether or not he plans to become a puppet master when he becomes a shinobi. He always answered yes so that his father would be proud. Not of him, of his future power. Just like his sister, he both knew and despised this fact.
Said 'baby' brother, Gaara, enjoyed the items his brother gave him and played with them all at some point. His sister also used her wind manipulation with small fans to help him fly into the air, always catching him as he floated back down. Most of the time, while his father was away, his siblings played with him and they all had a wonderful time.
Gaara had an ability to control sand from birth. It was this ability that had made it impossible for his older brother and sister to join him while their father was present. He was sealed with a demon at birth and the sand that protected him acted out and killed his mother as he entered the world. His father hated him for this and planned to use him for his demon. The child knew nothing of this though, and enjoyed the time he and his siblings spent together, since it was sparse and short.
The sand had attacked the two oldest of the three the first few times they had approached Gaara to play, but those times became few and eventually none. It was truly a lovely thing to know that Temari and Kankuro never gave up on their brother and always came back to try and make his life better after the sand tried to end them at the start. However, this news was only known by the three. If anyone else found out then their father would punish the eldest duo for spending time with the 'monster'.
They didn't see Gaara as a monster though. They saw him as a child. Their brother. Lost and alone, with no one to care about him. That is why they never stopped trying. To save the boy from a live of terror and isolation. The village feared him, and avoided him like the plague. More than once, when they saw Gaara asking to play with some of the other kids, they scooted a little closer and used their talents to bring small joy to the red-head to make up for the other children running in terror.
Whether that joy was in the form of a wooden figurine, no bigger than his had, or a small gust of wind ticking his stomach, it always re-assured him that his siblings were always there for him, and would never let him down. This was what made their bond so strong. Not from forced smiles that grew into real ones. It was from genuine concern that grew into a loving bond between the three.
The laughter echoed though the halls and down into the foyer, where the Kage of the wind country was entering his home, back early from a meeting in the country of fire. He heard this and thought that it was his two tools enjoying their childhood before he could harness their power for war and political status though threats and killings. This was until he noticed a third party in the resounding joy that passed though his house.
His blood boiled as he marched upstairs and saw his child-soldiers with the demon-weapon. They were sitting on the floor together. Kankuro had the monster in-between his spread legs, holding him so that he didn't get his by Temari, who was moving one of Kankuro's carving around with two hand-sized fans. She was working hard to control the specific amount of wind to send to different areas of the hand-craft.
The anger inside him only grew when Temari gently lowered the toy into the blood-child's outstretched hands and allowed him to take it from the currents of wind that she was moving. Gaara laughed happily as he grabbed the object and hugged it to his chest, while Kankuro did the same to the younger boy and their sister patted his red hair.
"Temari, Kankuro! What are you doing with that thing?!" Asked their father, outraged by the actions he had witnessed his children make. The addressed two looked up at him with wide eyes and began to stutter excuses and apologies.
"O-Otouto-sama! W-we were just, um… we were…" Temari started, worried about what her and Kankuro would receive as a form of punishment for being with Gaara.
"What Temari-nee-chan means is that… um… we… w-we w-were, um…" Kankuro attempted in a small child's voice.
"Otouto!" Gaara yelled, still sitting on the floor, with a cheerful grin, thinking that his father would join them. "Play! Play, otouto!" He yelled hopefully. The Kazekage looked down at the, so call, abomination in disgust before pulling the other two out of the room with him.
All that Gaara was left with was a small toy and his memories of that day. The last day his siblings came to see him. However, as Gaara grew up, he began to change. His demons blood-lust won out and he killed his uncle, marking himself with the kanji of 'Ai', love, afterwards. Not a day passed on, and into his teenage years, that he didn't think about the days he had spent with his siblings. How he wished that they could play together again, rather than them fearing him.
The boy became Kazekage after his father's death, but his village still dis-trusted him and his siblings were still afraid. Life went on until he was eighteen and nothing had changed, emotionally. He was still the feared Sabaku no Gaara. He was still the demon vessel. He was still the wielder of the sand. He was still the youngest and most powerful sand sibling.
One thing remained the same as well, he realised, on his twentieth birthday. He had received few gifts, one from Naruto, another demon he had encountered a few times and now the Hokage-in-training under Tsunade, one from Tsunade herself and one from someone who hadn't written a name.
He opened the un-named box first and looked inside. Sitting in the centre, amongst cushioning to stop damage, was a small wooded figurine. When he picked it out of the wrapped box, a small gust of wind picked it up and settled it in his hands again, but before the wind dispersed it ticked his stomach slightly.
The young Kazekage looked at his siblings to see them smiling at him, a small fan present in his sisters left hand. He nodded at them and turned, to hide a smile forming on his face. He was many things.
Sabaku no Gaara. Feared. Kazekage of the wind country. The demon vessel. The wielder of the sand. The youngest and most powerful sand sibling. A child deep down. Loved. Happy. Not alone. Not a demon, just a vessel. Not a blood-thirsty monster. Just a simple child with the love and care of his siblings. His only family.
He could never be happier.
