This is a story has some themes that touch areas of race, social class, gender roles, sexuality, and culture, I know these type of elements are foreign to the original story of Naruto. So if any of the elements in my story offend anyone I apologize in advance.
All characters from the original story are of owner ship of Masashi Kishimoto and publishing company Shounen Jump©
Other characters written in are of my creation. Hope you enjoy, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome. {This is a prologue of the story of when Gaara was 5 years old}
~ Prologue; Little Gaara sat on his swing, as usual. The unforgiving morning desert heat pressed against his skin, and the grains of sand scraping him through the wind, as usual. He had grown tired of sitting distant in his lonesome perch as he watch the other children play in the distance. Knowing the fact that he could never talk to them or play with them made him feel like an animal in a cage, he didn't feel human.
He watched his feet skim on the dirty, thick sand. Mindlessly reeling the button eye of his teddy bear. Wishing he hadn't been so different, as usual.
There was a sudden loud crunch behind him that made him jump a little. He turned around and saw a thin vine of sand releasing a dirty plastic ball. 'Not again' he thought, afraid to see the reaction of the child when they see he has their ball. He cradled the rough ball in his arms.
He heard shouting carry out from the distance, in words he found very unfamiliar. A child yelled out, "Maim ise mileaga !"
He saw a small dark girl run from the shadows of the buildings into the light of the sun that reached across the village, puffs of dust and flicked behind her feet as she ran. The girl took to halt and stood before Gaara, with light clouds of dust lingering behind her and sticking to her knees, legs and bare feet like flour. To his surprise no fear or anger shown on her face as her eyes set upon him. Seeing how at peace the girl was in his presence made something in him bur a little, like a lighter or a candle, but not like the way anger or fear burns. She was so secure in how she carried her self around him, the 'monster' of the village. Something that one wouldn't normally see a little girl carry in her stride.
She continued to fixate her gaze on him, studying him as she stepped closer. His heart picked up a new pace, like a moth drumming its wings against a light bulb. He didn't know whether she'd run away or what his sand will do if she moved too quickly.
He held out the ball to her carefully, hoping she wouldn't run away. She stepped closer and gently took the ball from him. Her big brown doe eyes smiled as she grinned sweetly. "Sukryia!" she chirped with spring in her step.
Gaara's mind twirled in knots, he didn't understand what she said, he didn't know how to respond, but the way she looked at him and the way she said it left him dumbfounded and embarrassed. The little brown girl shook the dust out of her thick short hair, hair that was brilliantly black, like soot. Shaking her shorts and wrinkled coca-cola shirt, stained with dirt and possibly ink.
"Alavida" she said softly giving him that warm gentle smile, she walked back with stride until she slid into that sheet of darkness of the corner of the building. She stopped and looked back at Gaara, staring at him with those big dark eyes, and waved at him with a slow, shy hand. He raised his hand and echoed the gesture back weakly. Voices of the other children behind the building called out to her to hurry up and with that call she vanished behind the shadows as swift as a jeroba mouse.
Gaara held his hands behind his back, lacing his fingers together. The image of that girl sunk deeper into his head. Her dark skin and hair and eyes, he never seen a girl with dark skin before, something about it caught his attention and fascinated him. Reminded him of something warm. No one had been so kind to him like that besides his uncle. Why was she so kind to him, how could she be ? he thought. The question began to hammer into his head. He assured himself he would never see that girl again, but he made sure he would hold that memory of her in his heart.
A certain happiness began to unfold like a rose within him, knowing that someone was so nice to him.
The whole day he thought. "What is her name?"
The language the girl was speaking was Hindi. More information will be shown in Chapter 2. Alavida means "Bye" and Sukriya means "Thank you". Please review :o)
