He stood on top of a sandy mountain, carrying her limp, lifeless body as if she were about to fly away. As he gazed at her face, he felt something; an unfamiliar feeling that was far from the anger, hatred and loneliness that had found a home in his heart before. The feeling emitted warmth that coursed through his veins. It felt welcoming and he decided to let the emotion take over him. And when it did, he cried. He was no longer fighting for himself, but for the girl he loved, the girl he longed to be with, the girl that now lay dead in his arms.
The girl named Sakura.
At the thought of her name everything vanished. The warm feeling disappeared, it was replaced with the need for bloodshed. With the need to see whoever killed her buried beneath the sand, where air and light never penetrated.
It was clear now. The person who killed her must die, and must be killed by him and only him. No one would steal this from him, no one would steal his second love.
With this new hope found, he wiped away the tears, gently lay Sakura down and set off on his journey.
It wouldn't take that long, he already knew the landscape and area. After all he was Gaara of the desert, born and raised here, in the sand village.
As he ran, he heard it from a distance. His sister was calling him. Forgetting about Sakura for a moment, he decided to speak with Temari. As he arrived at their home, he saw her wounded from battle. The blood trickled down from her left cheek splashing onto the floor beneath them. As he stared into the red puddle he remembered what had happened. He remembered what had made him begin this journey in the first place. But before he could leave, she confessed that her wound was from a poorly thrown katana; flung by an injured Sakura...
Gaara was now torn between his sister and his lover. How could fate be so cruel? How could his own sister kill the one girl he ever loved? He wanted to know the answers, but when he heard it, he didn't believe it.
Temari loved him, but not in the way that a sister was supposed to love a brother. She was in love with him.
His vision blurred as thoughts raced through his mind. His entire being was drifted into space as he was faced with the unthinkable. Why did she do this? When did she start loving him?
Then he felt something. His lips were harshly pressed against another pair of lips. And he felt a hand grabbing at his shirt, attempting to rip the fabric off to unveil his naked body. He could feel it; the hand that was against him longed to be with him for so long. It was as if they were meant to be together.
He had remembered this sensation before. He had felt it many times when he was with Sakura, but this time it was different, he had no control over the situation. And at the thought of her name, the confusion subsided and all that was left was rage. His sister had killed Sakura. And Sakura must be avenged, no matter what.
His rage took over and he pushed Temari off of him crying, "Sand Coffin!"
He heard her scream and squeal, and he was delighted. He was finally going to get his revenge. The final words slipped out with ease...
Sand Burial.
