Author's Note: Yay! I like this one. This is my favorite onshot I've written so far. My Gaara fanfic, yeah! Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. I hope you like this one, cuz I sure do.

I'm Alone

Gaara sat there, on the swing, alone except for the small teddy bear he took with him most places. There were others there, yet others that refused to even look his way, refused to see him because they were afraid. But they don't have to be afraid, he thought. All I'm doing is sitting here. Why won't they look at me? It was a question he always asked, but it was never answered. Why are they afraid?

He sat on the swing for a long time, clutching the bear in one arm while the other held the chain of the swing. He kept wishing, all the while, that maybe one person might look his way, meet his gaze even by accident. But that glance never came, and as the sun slowly sank behind the sandy hills, the others gradually leaving the playground, his hopes sank as well.

It was the same everyday, every time the little redhead came out to the playing area. He always brought his bear with him, he always sat on the same exact swing in the same position, and he always hoped that maybe someone would by chance look his way and meet his gaze. And always—every day, these hopes were shattered as night arose. It was the same this day, and Gaara finally stood up and left the play area in the small, craggy, canyon.

It seemed like he walked forever before he finally was back inside the Hidden Village of Sand. But he couldn't go back there to sleep—he never did. All he had to do during the nights was wander around the village, picking a rooftop or two to climb up and sit on, thinking and waiting until morning; waiting forever.

Tonight, he didn't want to go to the main part of the village—he already knew those places better than his own home. Besides, something new might distract him form his loneliness.

He turned right on the street that led to the center of the village if you kept going straight, but he wasn't planning on taking the usual route. On this road it seemed there were more people there at night. He thought he remembered this place. In some long ago memory he saw his older sister beside him, holding his hand as they made their way through a market-place that didn't seem like a market because there weren't enough people there, and it seemed that no one was speaking. Just eerie silence on that day, and Temari had walked down this street with him fast—nervously. But tonight Gaara saw lots of people there, talking in low voices as if speaking regularly would awaken some evil ghost or demon from the past whose spirit still slept uneasily in this place in the village.

This time, as he was not with his sister, Gaara didn't rush through the mysterious road that kept him from remembering that he was alone. And his curiosity didn't end when he reached the last building on the lane. There was another short road on his right, leading to another market-street to the left. On this road there were less people, but the volume of all the whispers was the same as the last. He kept on walking, and walking, and walking….

Wait a minute, he thought. This was the same street he had been walking through just five minutes ago. There was that same butchers' shop, the same fortune-telling place, the same tavern…. Someone very tall strutted right past him and Gaara looked up, seeing the same man with deep shadows under his dark eyes, and very thick, white eyebrows, staring straight ahead, that he had seen walk by him on the street he was just on. Gaara looked up ahead and saw that the road went on and on forever.

What? Am I dreaming? Gaara's eyes widened as he grew afraid and clutched his teddy bear closer and tighter with both arms. He looked behind him, and suddenly it had disappeared. All that he saw was darkness. He gasped, afraid that it would happen again if he looked forward.

What is going on? Why has everything gone?

"I don't want to be alone," he whispered, dropping to his knees and letting the bear free from his grasp. He clutched his heart instead, his eyes wide with fear, looking only at the darkened ground. He felt his eyes slowly brimming over with tears as he repeated: "I don't want to be alone!"

A sudden, sharp pain exploded in his head and he screamed, cradling his head in both of his hands, rocking back and forth crying, the small teddy bear lying in the dirt beside him, forgotten.

"Why?" he whispered, "Why? Why does it hurt? Why am I alone again?"

The little boy rocked on his knees, sobbing with his hurting head in his hands for what seemed to him like eternity. The pain didn't go away, and it felt to him like he might explode with his heart and head blinding him in pain. Gaara kept whispering through sobs, "Why?"

All of a sudden, the darkness all around him disappeared, and the pain in his head receded slightly. He could see the moon shining brightly in the dark sky. It gave off enough light to cast shadows, and the boy became aware of the shadow of a person standing about ten feet in front of him.

Gaara stopped crying, pulling his hands away from his face and chest slowly. He looked up and saw a tall, masked, sand shinobi with his two hands put together in a hand seal.

Genjutsu… His father had told him that word once, explaining what the word meant. An illusion...

Gaara took a sharp intake of breath before becoming frozen with fear. The boy's eyes widened once more, the ninja in front of him stepping closer. He couldn't move, it was like the shinobi was moving in slow motion as Gaara watched him come closer, and closer, slowly, pulling a kunai out of his shuriken pack on his leg as he went. The small, redheaded boy was helpless, petrified and open to any type of attack, just as the shinobi wanted it.

The man was a foot away from the boy, kunai in hand. He grinned to himself thinking, this is too easy. I can't believe Kazekage-sama has had twelve failed assassination attempts on the kid already! He pulled his arm wielding the kunai back, ready to strike.

Gaara looked up into the dark eyes that glared down at him. He couldn't move at all, just stared into them, watching in his peripheral vision the arm that readied his weapon. The weapon that would soon be stained with his own blood.

"Die!" the masked shinobi shouted, thrusting the kunai forward and right at the little boy.

Gaara held his breath, ready to let the blow that would be the death of him come. Right before it landed, Gaara's gaze switched to the sharp tip of the kunai, watching it move quickly toward his eye.

"Blood!" Gaara heard explode from his own mind—an abrasive, thick voice. He wondered if the big man that was about to kill him could hear that voice. Then again, Gaara was the only one who seemed to hear it. Not Kankurou, not Temari, not even father—the Kazekage. It was, apparently, a being inside himself that he heard. Something that seemed to have a hunger for death.

Wait a minute. Wasn't he, Gaara, supposed to be dead by now? Why hadn't he felt the ninja-knife cut him? Why hadn't he felt any pain as he died? Is this the way that death is? Gaara wondered, is it painless?

But then he realized that the kunai that had been speeding towards him had stopped, just an inch away from his eye, which was open wide. The ninja had not killed him.

He heard the loud, piercing scream in front of him like it was from another world. Gaara's focus shifted for just a second and he saw the sand squeezing tightly around the tall shinobi, killing him. Shukaku...

After that one second, he saw the kunai in front of him drop from mid-air as the owner's hand left it; drop and hit the ground point down. Gaara, still staring straight forward as if the kunai were still an inch away from him eye, heard it land in the thick sand right at his knees.

He let out the breath he had been holding for what seemed like a very long time.

The sand...

He was panting, his tearstained face still frozen in shock.

But the pain in his head started again, two times worse than what had come before. It wasn't satisfied. Gaara finally tore himself from the frozen state and shut his eyes tightly, grasping his head with both hands once more. He yelled and screamed, lashing around and trembling uncontrollably. He was panting hard, the tears streaming down his white face again.

"Why does it hurt so much?" he whispered to himself, in between yells and sobs, "Why am I alone again?"

The pain didn't last as long as it had a little earlier. When it finally stopped, the small redheaded boy found himself lying on his side, clutching his head with tears just starting to dry on his cheeks. He had been shaking all over. When his eyes came into focus he saw himself looking at the teddy bear he had brought with him, lying on its side just like Gaara, and it had sand all in its fake fur.

Gaara sat up slowly, crawling over to the bear and holding it to his chest tightly, ignoring the grains of sand falling onto his own clothes as he did so. He closed his eyes again, trying not to let the image of the kunai right in front of his face stay in his memory.

But it was too late.

The sudden recollection washed over him as he watched helplessly once again as the huge, thick and jagged bone came within less than an inch of his face. It stopped, just like that time, just as he thought he was dead for sure. Gaara breathed out, careful not to come too close to the sharp tip of that inhuman bone.

"I—is he dead?" Lee asked, kneeling on the sand platform next to Gaara's.

Gaara nodded, leaning back from the bone that had almost killed him, and looking into the dead eyes of Kimimaro Kaguya.

I'm not alone anymore…Gaara thought back to the memory he had just relived in one second.

I'm not alone anymore.

I don't really like how I ended this. It's kind of akward if you know what I mean. I hope you liked it, though! Your views are appreciated, but no flames! .' Arigatoo!