The small boy pushed himself in the rusty swings slowly, looking down at the dirt under his feet. He was lonely, but no one would ever play with him; they said he was insane. Insane how? He didn't know it himself. One moment he would see something and the next one it was gone. It always happened.
Then there was that low, menacing voice in his mind. It called himself 'Shukaku.' It liked to say that he was completely sane; that he just needed to kill everyone to be accepted. But the boy didn't want to do that. Even though his older brother and sister were afraid of him, as the whole town was, he still loved them. He was told that the voices and illusions would eventually fade, but it never happened. They were still there, refusing to leave. He then began to not know which one were the illusions and what the reality was. No one even tried to go near him…there was only one exception.
He stopped kicking his small feet in the dirt to see a baby blue ball stopping it's rolling just a foot in front of him.
He blinked his light green eyes and stared at it blankly for a few seconds.
"Hey, can you pass the ball?"
He raised this head a little, looking through his red locks. He pointed at himself shyly, unsure as if they were talking to him.
The other boy (a little taller than himself, with spiky blond hair, bright blue eyes and whisker-like marks on his cheeks) grinned widely. "Of course I mean you! Who else is here anyway?"
The blond boy had a point.
The redhead stood up from the swing and took the small ball in his pale hands before throwing it to the other boy.
He catched it and looked at him thoughtfully.
"Hm, you throw like a girl."
The smaller boy's cheeks went rosy from embarrassment. Well, what can he say? He's never played with anyone!
"Come play with me, I'll teach you how to throw a ball like a real man in no time! Believe it!" The blond gave him a toothy smile and a thumbs-up.
Green eyes widened in surprise. Did he hear right….?
He felt something hit his chest and looked down to find the blue ball. Looking up again, he found the other boy still smiling.
"C'mon, let's play this game I've hear about. It's pretty easy, you have to…"
The redhead's pale lips curved up into a wide smile as he picked up the ball again and listened to the boy's messy and barely understandable explanation, not really caring about what he was saying, but happy that he had made a new friend.
Some minutes passed by, but the small boy was sweating and panting a lot. The blond laughed at him and made a comment on how weak he was before saying that he shouldn't give up. The redhead was going to reply, but he heard someone call his name.
"Gaara!"
He looked up and saw a girl with short, light brown hair and big onyx eyes running happily towards him. She stopped in front of him and panted slightly.
"I've been looking all over for you! What've you been doing?" She pouted, glaring playfully at him.
Gaara smiled widely and looked behind, opening his mouth to introduce the two of them, but no words came out as he saw no trace of the blond boy or the ball. He felt a familiar sting in his eyes and lowered his gaze so she wouldn't see him cry.
Her black eyes softened, completely understanding the situation. She took his hand and he painfully squished hers. They always did that. Whenever situations like this happened she would grab his hand and make him forget. He feels bad, though, for gripping her hand so forcefully; she needed it to play with her other friends, after all, but it was like if he let go she would disappear.
Her name was Matsuri, and she was the only one who stuck with him. She was the only one who understood, the only one who could shut up Shukaku's evil voice, the only one who could make all the illusions disappear….
He has schizophrenia; he was sick in the head….and yet she stays…
Gaara could only pray that Matsuri wasn't another illusion.