The sand whirled restlessly, darting this way and that, like a first time mother trying to soothe her crying baby.
Gaara thought that might have been what was happening, after all Yashmaru had said that he believed the sand had his mother's will living in it. Gaara sat silently staring out at the village as it slept, the sand acted as a buffer for the cold night breeze blowing in off the desert.
The sand was agitated, and moving like a snake flattened itslef to form a wall around him. The kunai that had been aimed at his back fell harmlessly to the ground as Gaara turned young eyes wide with shock. The masked figure stood not far away, hidden within the shadows, another kunai in the air and one hand on the pouch. Gaara went still, not moving even to breathe as the young boys rage built.
"Why? Why do you hate me? What did I do to you?" he advanced, slowly closing his immature little fists. The sand closed around the assassin, creeping closer and closer with Gaara's footsteps. "What did I do to deserve this? I don't understand..."
"..." silence rained as the masked man just stood there letting the little boy vent his rage, before laughing softly as he threw another kunai, "Why you ask? Because you're a monster! You don't deserve to live... You never did."
Gaara's little fist contracted in rage, unable to comprehend this blatant hate. As his fists closed fully the man was blown from the shadows, hitting the wall with enough force to crack it and liquidize his internal organs.
"..." There were no screams of pain, no pleas for mercy there was only silence. Silence punctuated by ragged breathing. Gaara approached apprehensively unsure of what he had done to this man.
"Are you... did I? No I couldn't have!" His questions faded as he stopped an arm's length from the prone figure. He reached, still shaking in fear as he grasped the mask tentatively and slowly pulled. The mask dropped to the ground with a muffled thump.
"Yashmaru?" Gaara's voice broke as he tried to hold in the fear. "Why Yashmaru? Why would you do this?"
"Because your father ordered me to." Gaara had known for a long time now that he was different to his siblings, this proved it. The Kazekage had never attempted to kill his other children, not like he had done to Gaara.
"Why...Why did you?" Gaara tried to force out the rest of the question but his throat locked up as he tried to understand. "You didn't have to. You had a choice didn't you...? Didn't you Yashmaru?"
"I had a choice Gaara; I chose to do this, to avenge my sister. To make sure that you, the cause of her pain, her suffering... her death, would never breathe again. I failed...but as long as you know this and bring down your father, it won't matter that I died." Tears filled Gaara's eyes as Yashmaru harshly barked out his answer. "I chose to do this... because I hate you."
As Gaara's eyes bugged out, the sand started to swirl again, feeling a threat but not able to act. Gaara stared at the broken body of his uncle as he drew his last breath.
"Because... you don't deserve love or life."
Then the world fell apart. Gaara knelt beside his uncle unable to reconcile this image of him; broken, bloodied, dead, with the image of his carer; a happy young man leading Gaara through his life. Gaara stared uncomprehendingly at the shell of the man in front of him. The shell of the man who had taught him about pain and love. Gaara blinked, a warm wetness trickling in his left eye blocking out his uncle. His hand unclenched and the sound of metal striking stone resounded in the silence.
He was branded, a monster with a warning... Love, carved forever in his skins so he would not forget.