Gaara and Yashamaru are kneeling at the table eating leftover udon noodles and soup. This is something they do usually, as noodles tend to get left over in their house: Yashamaru always overestimates how much Gaara will eat.
Gaara is only four and he is lifting floppy noodles up with one chopstick, inspecting them curiously, and then lowering them back into the make-shift broth. He plays with his food more than he eats it, and this makes Yashamaru irritated, although he doesn't say: Yashamaru likes to keep the peace. Besides, his nephew's picky eating reminds him of his sister.
"Yashamaru-jii-san?" asks Gaara, finally deigning to suck up a noodle in the most awkward manner possible: sticking his head upside-down under the held-high chopstick and trying to catch the noodle end in his mouth. "A-ha-ma-u-yii-san?" –This is all he can manage with his mouth held open under the noodle. "A-ha-ma-"
"Yes, Gaara-kun?" asks Yashamaru, sighing. 'Don't talk with your mouth full.'
"Why do I have sand?"
Yashamaru smiles weakly. 'Because you have a demon inside you fouling your father's bloodline inheritance,' he thinks but doesn't say. Instead, he says, "It protects you, Gaara. In time, it will get stronger and stronger. It's your ultimate defence."
"Ult'mate 'fence?" asks Gaara, chewing again.
Yashamaru – startled – laughs. "Yes," he replies. "You could call it that, I suppose."
He will regret saying this in time.
…
Yondaime Kazekage looks sternly over the top of his desk at his youngest son.
"And?" he asks, irritably, refusing to believe what he has just heard reported from numerous sources including the council, other ninja and the general public.
"And I did it, father," says Gaara, smiling shyly. "Look!"
His sand shoots up into spikes from the office room carpet and the ANBU guards at the sides of the room have to prevent themselves from responding accordingly. The sand peaks at waist level, forming little square-topped mountains, and v-shaped valleys; contouring into the shape of painted wooden boards and forming into slats. Finally, the creation solidifies.
In the middle of the room, stood just beyond both his creation and his swearing father, the young, innocent child beams up at the assembled and says, "I perfected it, didn't I?"
And his father, blunt to the last, bites out a resigned, "No." For there, in the middle of the room, in its fake-painted glory, for all to see, does not stand evidence of a demon's perfected ultimate defence.
Behind Gaara, Yashamaru face-palms.
There, in the middle of the room, like a flag of shame on the carpet, stands Gaara's first great achievement: his very own Ultimate Fence. Picket, to be precise.