He hated this. The emptiness that was once so comforting, now only brought him closer to despair. The once powerful, feared Gaara of the Sand was now a handicap and a useless burden. He wanted to break something, do something to prove that he was still strong. How could it be, that the moment the demon was finally gone and it seemed like he could finally have peace, the demon still held sway? He had relied heavily on the creature; he had been sure that the monster would be inside him for the rest of his life. Now it was gone and the Kazekage was afraid to test his newly formed boundaries. He hadn't picked up a shuriken since that fateful day when he was brought back to life.
There was white everywhere, and darkness so deep. He was part of it all. There was no constraint, nothing like a prison. He flowed and turned and sank into the very depths of light and dark. He felt whole and part of a whole. He was at peace. There was no reason to be scared and he wasn't. He didn't feel anything but bliss. That's how it should have been anyway but his bliss was tainted, like so many others before him, with a sharp feeling of regret, of things left undone. Suddenly, he felt a painful pull, dragging him from the numbing bliss. It hurt so much, the pain that he had rarely known when he had been alive. He grabbed at it. He needed it because it made him feel alive. He wasn't ready to merge, he wasn't ready to die. Despite all that, it shouldn't have worked. But it did.
The first thing he was aware of was the painful pounding of his heart against his chest. It was dry, without life, trying to restore what could never be replaced. Then he discovered breath. The air rushed in, warm and painful, stretching his muscles uncomfortably. It felt like he was breaking into a thousand pieces. Than the blood rushed in, soothing and rough, giving life. It calmed the trembling muscles, gave substance to the beating heart. It hurt. Maybe he didn't want to live; it was so painful, so alone. Nobody cared. Nobody understood. He was just a monster.
He was slipping back into the numbness when he heard a voice. It was familiar yet he couldn't place it. It seemed so far away. "Gaara!" it called. Who was Gaara? He looked down. He was in a prison again, his body. It was his, wasn't it. He looked around. So alone. He wasn't part of a whole anymore. He was a monster. "Gaara!" That was his name, wasn't it? Who was calling him? He felt a warm presence behind him. There was a slight pressure on his shoulder. He looked over. Naruto…The blond was beaming at him cheerfully, like he always did. His hand was resting against Gaara's shoulder. The years hadn't changed him much. "Gaara," Naruto said as if to reassure him that that was who he was.
That's right…he wasn't alone… He was Kazekage. He wanted to go home. "Naruto…" Naruto grinned and held out his hand. His people needed their leader to live. Gaara reached out, becoming fully aware of his body and surroundings. He was alive. He could feel his heart beating strongly inside him, as if to make up for the lost time.
His muscles were still weak as he used Naruto's help to sit up. His eyes winded slightly. How could he have not missed this? The wind, the grass, the flow of blood, the well known faces of his villagers, his siblings' banter. Temari was knealing next to him, Kankuro standing in front of him and Naruto was standing on Gaara's other side. His student was struggling past the crowd, her face lit up and her eyes eager. It almost made him smile. There were people crying. They were crying for him. He had never thought he would mean so much to his people to warrant such happiness…
But there was something wrong. The only way he could be alive…the only reason… Elder Chiyo. But it couldn't be. She didn't want anything to do with Gaara. Gaara looked up at Naruto. It must be. "You have the power to change people," Naruto's teacher said. Gaara searched for her. He found her in Sakura's trembling arms. Chiyo looked so vulnerable like that, almost like a child. She had saved him with her life.
Gaara strained against the last constraints of death, and tried to force his trembling legs to do what he said. There was a rush as the villagers went to help him. He pushed them gently away. The world was rocking unsteadily beneath him. He got part of the way up before he almost collapsed but a warm comforting hand grabbed him by the arm and helped him the rest of the way up. He didn't have to look to know that it had been Naruto. Gaara, with Naruto's constant presence at his side, walked forward until he stood but a few feet from Elder Chiyo's body and Sakura's crying form. "Let us honor her." There was silence as prayers and wishes were mouthed.
Gaara could no longer remember that place where he had gone with clarity but a warmth remained. He was sure that she would like it there. It had been her time. He would be forever grateful.
The wind rattled against the window, somehow managing to slip through some miniscule cracks to ruffle Gaara's hair as he sat on his desk. It had been a week since then and Naruto and his friends had already left to take care of their own injuries. Naruto had done so much for him. How could he have forgotten? How could he have been so willing to through it all away for fear of disappointment?
He turned his chair to look through the round window to the desert beyond. Gaara let out a frustrated sigh and stood up. Sulking was over. He marched determinedly out the door, slamming it behind him. The papers left on the desk ruffled forlornly at the resulting gust of wind.
AN: I wrote this right before I decided that Gaara did not use Shukaku's chakra on a regular basis...but I posted it anyway...Should I continue? Tell me what you think. Any plot ideas are welcome!