-1Disclaimer: I do not own "Naruto"; this is only a fanfic.

Authors Notes: This is my first fanfic for the "Naruto" fandom, so please be kind. I have always found the scene with chibi-Gaara and Yashamaru to be quite sad. The child's pain was clearly evident and its no wonder he turned out the way he did.

Betrayal

In the dead of night, a small boy dropped to his knees on the rooftop of his home. The moon shone down on the child's bent head, casting an eerie glow on the hair as deep and red as the blood pooled at his feet.

The boy shivered uncontrollably, wrapping his arms across his middle. A whimper escaped his lips; the sound of a wounded animal and he began rocking himself because no one else would.

His response was not due to the climate of the Sunagakure. As one born to this desert land, the boy was as accustomed to the cool night air. He was also accustomed to isolation from the other villagers and to the trained assassins that hunted him; however, he was not accustomed to this betrayal.

Gaara, youngest child of the fourth Kazekage, kneeled next to the body of the man sent to kill him. He was shocked… confused, as the masked slipped from the failed assassins face. In a matter of seconds, what little faith the boy held in the world was suddenly scattered like the dunes after a sandstorm.

"Why… why Yashamaru?"

He cried out to the only person who had shown him affection.

"Why did you do it? I don't understand… tell me why?"

Raising his eyes, Gaara peered through the sand shielding his body. The grains moved and pulsated, an inert organism brought to life by the power of the Jinchuriki. What had he done to deserve this curse and why hadn't his uncle, Yashamaru, mentioned it before?

"You were born with the Shukaku, a living sand spirit, inside of you. All these years, you have been watched and studied, as part of a great experiment. It became clear that you would never be able to control the one that possesses the power of the sand. Your existence is too dangerous for the village; therefore we had to… before it was too late."

He was an experiment gone awry; a failure and everyone, the entire village, knew that. He was a freak… an abomination; Suna's ultimate weapon out of control… it was the reason the people feared him… the reason they looked at him with loathing. Everyone except… Yashamaru.

"Gaara, you know you are very dear to me."

Was that a lie? The boy grabbed his head, as it began to pound unmercifully. He pitched forward, his hand extending to break his fall while the other clutched at his chest. In his agony, he shoved aside the mask and nearly fell onto his uncle's chest.

As Yashamaru lay dying, the sands reacted to Gaara's torment; rushing to his defense not realizing the boy's pain was internal. The granules contorted and twisted, trying to shield him from what it perceived as threat to his person, but there was none… at least, not anymore.

"Unlike a wound to the body, there is no medicine for a wounded heart and sometimes… it never heals."

Yashamaru's words. At the time, Gaara thought they were meant to explain his own emotional inadequacies, but no… those words only concealed his uncles motives to assassinate the child his beloved sister had left behind.

"I was ordered to kill to you, Gaara, by your father, Lord Kazekage."

Although the two did not share a close relationship, the boy felt ill on hearing his paternal parent wanted him dead. However, Gaara still wanted to believe in the man that had raised and cared for him. He wanted to believe in the one person that had shown him love and understanding.

"You… you had to obey father, right? You didn't have a choice?"

The boy asked tentatively, trying to smile. His pale, turquoise eyes appealed to Yashamaru. His uncle had attacked from behind, cloaked in darkness, laying low in the shadows. Floating kunai had been aimed directly at the boy's exposed back; if it weren't for the sand…

"You're wrong. I had a choice."

There was no regret in Yashamaru's tone. In his fatal state, the man's voice resounded over the rooftops and Gaara recoiled, aghast at the admission. Although that stunned the boy, it was nothing compared to what came next.

"Yes… Lord Kazekage made his wishes known to me, but I could have refused, if I had wanted. I suppose it's because deep in my heart, I hate you, Gaara. I've always hated you!"

Chest muscles contracted painfully; connecting vessels seemingly tightened around the child's esophagus, threatening to choke him. Was this the pain Yashamaru spoke of, the boy wondered? Clenching his fingers over his heart, his nails attempted to dig into his skin, but the sand would not allow it.

"My sister died bringing you into this world, Gaara, and I can't forgive you for that. I kept telling myself that you were all that was left of her… that I should love you. I tried, but… I couldn't."

"It wasn't her choice to have you. Karura was made a human sacrifice and she died cursing this village. Since that day, I've had this wound in my heart that I knew would never heal."

"She named you Gaara… a demon that loves only itself. You neither love nor care for anyone but yourself; you live only to exist and fight only to protect and maintain that existence. This was the gift your dying mother left you. It was not derived from any maternal affection, only Karura's hate for this village and its people. You were never loved, Gaara, never!"

To late, the boy noticed the paper bombs plastered to uncle's chest. Dark-lined eyes, weary and despondent, turned to the crackling explosives, but Gaara made no attempt to move. He was disillusioned… felt abandoned; he simply stared, almost welcoming his demise.

"Please die!"

Yashamaru's final request, however, the sands would not oblige. The bombs detonated simultaneous with the sands, which spread over the boy's body, protecting him from the impact of the explosion. The particles moved and shimmied, leaving the child untouched by the falling debris.

Gaara sat, curled in a fetal position, rocking back and forth. His small body shook violently, as his sobs echoed in the night. There was nothing left… there was nothing left to believe in and there was no one left to trust.

"There was no question that my older sister loved you."

Lies…

"The sand automatically rushes to protect you, just like the love of a mother."

More lies…

"I believe your mother's will is carried in every grain of that sand."

Suddenly, something inside the boy snapped. The illusory existence he had come to know shattered like broken glass and the pathway to his destiny became clear. Rising to his feet, Gaara swayed with the weight of his burden.

"Love no one else…"

The child reared back and growled with a savagery that rocked the entire village. The sands spiraled and swirled around him, a gravelly typhoon of raw emotion.

"Care for no one's existence, but your own. Fight only for yourself…"

Love, or rather, the illusion of it appeared suddenly on the boy's forehead. A symbol of Yashamaru's treachery and deceit; a reminder of 'what if', had it been real.

"I get it now… I finally understand. I am the only one that matters. This is Gaara… this is who I am."

The End

Authors Notes: Wrote in a moment of melancholy. Please read, hopefully enjoy and please leave a review.