Plot bunnies, and lots of them suddenly attacked me while watching Naruto.

And those little critters wanted me to write about Yashamaru.

Erm, just so you know, this is Yashamaru to Gaara. x.x; 'Kay? Good.

Joy, and lucky for you all, I don't own Naruto.

Anyway, start the fic! PAEJA!



You

My sister hated you, so why would anyone else love you?

Even before you were born, she hadn't wanted you.

Temari and Kankurou had been enough for her. Sure, she loved children; evident in how much time she spent loving and spoiling them. But two was enough; she understood that there was only so much attention she could split.

The only reason you're here at all is your father.

Your mother loved him. It was strange, and to me, sad, but true nonetheless. They had fallen for each other so quickly, and then all of a sudden my sister was with him.

And, for a while, he was tolerable. Kazekage-sama, he was fine for a while. He made her happy, completed her. And they had two beautiful children together.

Then, the feudal lords butted in. And there was the need for super nins. The need for protection of our village. The need to prove our worth to the world around us.

The need for your existence…

An abomination. That's all you are. I hated the idea of whatever was dwelling in that teakettle to be released, just as your mother did. But Kazekage wanted it, and he always got what he wanted, whether it be from your mother or his village.

And thus, you were conceived.

And thus, the nightmare that would haunt Sunagakure began.

Not even your birth was something good. It brought my sister so much pain, as the beast that resides within you desperately tried to free itself from her womb.

As she lay on the bed that would become her deathbed, squirming and pushing and gritting her teeth, she made sure that her hatred was known to the world.

You see, her pregnancy wasn't easy. Heh. Not even close.

The monster kept her awake too, you know. Think you've got bad insomnia? Just be glad you didn't have to see your mother. Supporting her own body and another's while at the same not even getting to sleep for more than an hour each night.

You know nothing of suffering.

If it weren't for you, my sister would never have started to hate our village. But then again, if it weren't for you, my sister would be alive.

She died just as you breathed your first vile, undeserved breath. Your father and I had stood on either side of her during her labor, listening and wincing as she cursed everything in Sunagakure.

But she cursed one thing more than anything else.

You.

She cursed the little boy that was slowly tearing her to pieces as her other children hadn't. She cursed the little boy that held a demon behind large, pale aquamarine eyes. She cursed the little boy that she had never wanted.

Once you were born, if the circumstances could've been different, I suppose one might've called you cute.

You always looked so very innocent, with large, ebony rimmed eyes staring out at the world that hurt you on a daily basis.

But you hurt the world first, just by imposing your presence on her. And you deserved every harsh thing that ever came your way.

And as if you couldn't see the accumulating hatred in my eyes, you always came to me with your pathetic questions.

"Why me?"

"It hurts, here, but there is no wound."

"Why is everyone afraid of me?"

I almost felt bad sometimes, leading you on as I did: telling you that I loved you, and that I cared about you.

I never have. Do you know that now?

Once, when we had first started out, I tried to love you. I really, truly did. I tried so hard to drown out the memories of my dear sister as she screamed out obscenities while she birthed you.

But I could never block all of it out, and there would always be that one little nagging part in the back of mind, reminding me of all the grief you've caused my family. I can't say 'our'. You don't belong.

It was only once you killed me that you realized that you were alone, that everyone hated you.

That night, as blood came out in streams down my chin and neck, I told you everything: about your mother, about me, about the village.

Everything.

Did it finally sink in? I could never love you, not after all you've done. You'll never bring anyone anything but pain and suffering, and there will never be even one person to stand by your side.

You are completely alone.

After all….

Your own mother hated you, so why would anyone else love you


r e v i e w!