I was woken by the smell of cooking; it smelt so good I thought it was a dream. Yawning I got up and dressed in the same orange t-shirt with a big fox on the front I had draw on it in red ink I had worn the day before and a pair of long khaki combats that were like the ones I had let Gaara borrow the night before.
I walked into the kitchen still half asleep and rubbing the sleep from my eyes to see the table had been set and three plates of the most delicious looking food I had seen in a long time. I looked towards the cooker and saw Gaara standing string a small pot of something on one of the hobs wearing the same outfit I had given him to wear. Without looking from the food he was cooking he lifted one hand and pointed towards the table as if to say I should sit and eat. I did, I had no idea how he did it but even the best cooks in the Fire country would be jealous, took the nearest plate and began to eat the little dumplings on it. They were so good. I needed to get the recipe from him later, I knew they wouldn't taste as good but I could at least try. He walked softly across the floor to the table and poured a honey coloured source on top of a plate of fried squid.
"Are you going to have any?"I asked him not wanting to be greedy.
"No, I already ate." Came his reply.
I looked at the little clock hanging on the wall opposite where I was sitting it read 6 o'clock, in the morning. It's 6 o'clock in the morning and he said he had already eaten! This food must have at least taken half an hour to cook and there are no dirty dishes so he must have also cleaned up as well. What time does he get up in the morning? It didn't take my long to eat it all; he refused money for cooking me the food every time I asked him. I gathered all the plates and took them to the sink and washed them clean. All the time he just stood leaning on a wall staring at me nether moving or speaking. His eyes looked so cold and unforgiving, they seemed to demand authority yet at the same time beg for forgiveness as if he had done such terrible things that not even a god could forgive. I could also see the true colour of his hair; it was a deep red, like blood, it was quite short and stuck out at odd angels in unruly spikes.
"I'll be in my art studio if you need me; it's the last room in the hall on the left." I told him I needed to be sure he didn't just go off somewhere.
He just nodded and disappeared in a cloud of swirling sand. I was shocked at what he did I had no idea it possible to use sand to teleport oneself. It was truly amazing, but that was probably just because I wasn't a shinobi. That's not fair, I wish I had joined the ninja academy not followed that old lady. But then I wouldn't have the life I have now. I smiled as I remembered the old lady who had taut me all about art. She was such a kind lady, Choko, I miss her so much I still can't believe that she gave me her house when she died.
I reached my art studio. It was the one room in my house that you could see the little clearing filled with so many different flowers, a truly beautiful site. I looked around for my paints and saw the painting I had to finish. It was an odd one, a commission, it was a Sakura tree with multi-coloured flowers not a particularly hard one to paint but a refreshing one. I was glad someone had an artistic mind for the odd and unusual.
I finally finished the painting and left it to dray as I went to the kitchen to find a snack. The cupboards where mostly bare but I did manage to find one pot of instant Raman. I really need to go
shopping; I'll go tomorrow with Gaara so I can get more ingredients for his culinary master pieces. I thought as the Raman finished heating up and then went outside to eat. It was a brilliant day so I just had to make the most of it.
I sat on the ground a little way a way from my house, the ground was dry so it was okay to sit on. I looked at the area in front of me with no real interest when the soft, sandy colour of Gaaras gourd caught my attention. He was sitting cross-legged with it in front of him; he seemed to be looking at it closely for damage. When his eyes found a crack he placed his hand over it paused for few moments then moved on to look for more. I could see the cracks disappear as though he was filling them in with whatever material it was made of. He looked up from it and locked his eyes on mine, as if searching for something then nodding and continuing in repairing the gourd.
"How does that work?" I had no intention of asking, but the words just slipped from my mouth.
"The gourd is made of sand; I can repair any damage by refilling the gaps with new sand."He replied.
It made sense; I had seen what he could do with the sand so it was only retinal that he could also use it to repair what was made of sand. I hadn't seen any shinobi wield that kind of power in my time at Konoha, maybe it was one of those fancy powers that you posed if you where part of a certain clan. That made sense too seeming he came from Suna which is in the middle a desert and Konoha is in the middle of a giant forest. I wished even more I had joined the ninja academy.
I saw him look to his left I followed his eyes to see what he was looking at when a flock of birds rose from the tree tops, it was nothing. He stood and disappeared in a cloud of sand in the blink of an eye; if he had retreated it was probably not a good idea to stick around. I jumped up and hid behind a tree just before two shinobi landed in the clearing.
"It's not here." The first one said.
"I can see that!"The second one said slightly annoyed, he sounded the younger of the two."And anyway why would It be here?"
"It wouldn't go back to the village, it's not that stupid."The older one said.
"Do you think It's still alive?"
"Of coarse It's still alive they wouldn't send us to get a corpse!"
"You never know, the council seems to have to have lost it, don't you think, I mean punishing It for failing a mission that was a fraud to begin with. I just can't believe that they didn't know he wasn't Kazekage-sama."
"They just want power and they'll do anything to keep it."
"I heard that when they got It, he didn't even resist at all, he let them beat him into the ground."
So who ever they where talking about was a shinobi who had failed a mission and was beaten for it. What kind of country did they come from!? I came from my hiding place and faced them.
"Why are you at my house?" I asked them seeing if they would tell the truth.
"A rescues mission for Suna." The older one said I could see he was wearing the usual shinobi gear; he had dark brown hair.
"Could I ask who or what you are looking for?"I asked I wanted to know what they were talking about.
"A monster, just pray you never have to meet it."The younger one replied, he was wearing the same as the older one he to had dark hair but his was in tight curls. When he said it he got a nasty look from the older one.
"May I enquire to the name of this monster?" I asked with no fear but if a shinobi called something a monster it usually was.
"No you may not." The older one said in a stern voice."You have no need in its name."
I heard a soft whooshing sound to my right when a small knife flew through the air landing mere inches in front of the Suna shinobi. They both took out similar knives and looked to see where their attacker was hiding. Two more landed closer then the fist one to the shinobi and a third just nicked the arm of the younger one.
"We've been spotted. Damn! Retreat." The older one had called to the younger one and they vanished without trace, well at least to my eyes.
After they had gone, Gaara reappeared in the clearing next to the knives and picked them up and walked to the one that had fallen after hitting its target, he wiped the blade on the grass by his feet then walked towards me.
"They didn't hurt you did they?" It was odd hearing him ask me a question.
"No, they just kept going on about something they called It."I told him hopping he may tell me what they were going on about.
His eyes seemed to darken and glaze over. He looked down slightly clenching his fists because I could hear the metal handles of the knives clinch tightly together, but I was to busy looking at his face. He obviously knew what It was. But his reaction was as if that was an insult that they gave him.
"I'm sorry." It came out as barely a whisper. I didn't even mean to say it.
He looked up in surprise, his eyes wide with shock. I smiled to show him I meant want I had said even if it wasn't meant for him. I walked back to the door with the empty pot of noodles. When I reached the door I looked back to see if he had followed me; he was still standing there as if he had been bound to the earth.
"Why?" That was the only word I could hear him say.
"Because no one deserves to be called a monster, no matter what evil things they may do. We make a choice on what path we choose to follow, weather that choice was to save ourselves or to save others, it was still a choice we made. We may not agree with the things they may do but we must understand why they made that choice. That was what my old teacher once said to me after I told
her what happened to my village."I told him remembering what happened that fateful day all those years ago."I only think that they lack the love to understand that no one is a monster."
His eyes went wide again he began to shake just like he did yesterday before he had unleashed his true power on my poor paintings. He grabbed a fistful of his hair and began to shake his head violently from side to side as if something poisonous had landed on it. To my horror he stopped shaking his head and made a move to crack it against the tree I had been hiding behind.
"NO!"I screamed helplessly at him, unable to stop him.
What I saw was almost unbelievable. Just before his head made contact with the tree a wall of sand leaped up saved him from harm. It stared to rap around him protectively but he pulled away and lifted his face to the sky and screamed. It was like no sound I had heard before it was high pitched but would travel for miles. It sounded like a mix of pain: but he had not been harmed; of fear: but there was nothing to scare him and of anger; as if he hated the sand for saving him.
"I HATE YOU YASHAMARU! I HATE YOU!" He half screamed half cried then fell to his knees and bent fore wards so he was facing the ground.
I had no idea who Yashamaru was or the reason why Gaara hated him but I was so saddened by what I saw I started to cry. Again. Slowly I walked towards him when I got close to him the sand reared up again, but I still I reached out to him and placed my hand on his shoulder and the sand slowly melted away. His body was shaking and he sounded as though he was coughing slightly. He sniffed and lifted his head to face me. Streaks of wetness where on his cheeks and moisture leaked from his eyes. He was crying; his eyes showed so much sadness and inner pain it made me angry. First they beat him and now I find out he suffers mentally as well! I began to cry even more at that thought.
"I'm so, so sorry I' so sorry." That was all I could say. I'm not sure witch one of us it was meant for but it seemed to help us both.
"Why are you crying?" He asked in a quiet voice it was softer then when I had heard him speak last time. For you Gaara that is who I am crying for. I could not bring myself to tell him, I doubted he got many people telling him things like that so I didn't.
I stood up and walked a few steps away from him, for a moment his pale eyes showed panic. Could he think that I was leaving him because of what I had seen him do? I stopped so he could get shakily to his feet then slowly walk towards me. He stopped next to me and searched my face for something that told him I didn't care about him.
"Go and sit down I'll get you a drink." I told him with a smile.
He nodded and disappeared in a cloud of sand like he usually did. When I got to the kitchen he was already there sitting on one of the chairs. The sand gourd was resting beside one of the legs of the table; he had obviously put it there when he transported here to get away from the other shinobi because he had not had it with him when he had reappeared. I got two glasses from the freezer and from the fridge a watered down peach juice that was possibly my favourite thing to drink and poured it out. We drank it in silence I didn't want to bring the subject of Yashamaru just in case he
did anything drastic, I wonder what happened to make him like that? After we had both finished I went back to my studio and he stayed where he was.
I tried to concentrate on my work but I just couldn't get the picture of Gaara out of my mind, so I decided to draw him. It had been a while since I had drawn anything that was what I wanted to draw even if it was just to get an image out of my mind so I could get on with a commission for someone. It took me a good three hours to get it right and add the bits of colour that I wanted, I took the page out of my sketch book and clipped it to my clothes line that held all the paintings I didn't do on canvas. I was very pleased with it, I had found his eyes the hardest to do, to get the emotion in them that only he possessed. I exited my studio and went down the hall to get a drink when I stopped at an empty space on the wall. It took my brain a few seconds to remember that the painting that had hung there had been ripped to shreds just last night. The reason I didn't remember the carnage the first time I had gone to the studio was the fact that all the sand had gone. All of it, only the slashes in the walls remained. The sand had not been there in the morning ether it just added to the mystery. Did he clean it all up? If he did, he must have gotten up earlier then I thought he did. I was amazed at what he had done for me, most children would have waited until you started to clean up to ask if they could help or not help at all.
I continued down the hall into the kitchen and got my drink. The cool water was refreshing after my sudden artistic rush. I could see that he no longer was in the kitchen so he obviously wasn't moping. I went into all the other rooms (including the bathroom) and didn't him in any of them.Maybe he went for a walk. I thought to myself that made sense, he probably just needed time to himself.
By the time I had made diner and eaten it I began to worry about him, he was still missing; his injuries still needed a long time to heal and if they were left to long they would get infected. I went outside to look again luckily it was summer so there was enough light so I could see. I turned to face my house and I looked up at my roof. There he was sitting on it as lifeless as a statue the only movement was the shifting of his bloodied hair in the soft wind; his cold eyes gazing off into the distance as though waiting for something to come. He looked truly beautiful sitting there on my roof with the fading sunlight dancing on his icy white skin and deep red hair. The only thought going through my mind was that he was safe and I was happy. He looked down at he then puffed in his little sand cloud to meet me.
"Come on lets get inside before it gets dark."I told him as I smiled at him.
He nodded and walked into the house without looking back. I followed him into the kitchen where he got out one of my bowls and filled it with the left over stew I had made out of the only foods I had left in my cupboards and the small amount of rice left in the pan on the work top. When he finished he placed the bowl in the sink and walked away. I noticed that he always eat slowly like he had all the time in the world.
"I'm going to have a bath okay."I called after him. I just about saw him nod so I figured he got the message.
I lay in the steamy water with my new book I had starred to read, it was hard to find for myself any more with all the work I had to do. It was a very uninteresting book about a beautiful young woman that worked in a flower shop and a dashing young shinobi that had fallen in love. It was so corny the
only good bit so far is that he has to go off to war and leave the stupid girl at the flower shop. Maybe later on there would be some good fight scenes that I can use in my art work. When I had finally gotten so bored with the book I got out of the bath, dried off and got dressed into my nightwear then walked to the living room and sat in the chair with a happy sigh. Today had been long but I'd gotten through it, I turned on the TV to see what was on the news. It was yet another report on the invasion and how people where coping; it was not like I didn't feel sorry for them but this was going to be on the news for months after you could only sob and wonder how the poor victims of such a horrific event are coping for so long. The only new thing was that Suna had surrendered and they were now looking for a new Hokage.
The last Hokage had been such a good man; he gave all he could to make Konoha a better place, he even gave his life to save the village from that guy from the Sound village. Across from me I heard a soft chuckle; I turned my face to see what it was.
"I didn't think the old man had it in him." I found Gaaras remark a bit odd, how did he know the Hokage?"At least he tried to do something."
"Does your village have a good leader?" I asked him.
"No, we have the council and most of them are more power hungry then the Kazekage was."His voice showed hate.
"What happened to the Kazekage?"I had no idea why I was asking him all these questions but I just had to know more.
"He was killed by the same man that killed your Hokage, that bastard got what he desired." He said the word 'bastard' as though it was poison.
I knew that the shinobi in Konoha respected their leader and thought greatly of him, none of them would say a bad word about him. It seemed that in Suna even the young shinobi hated their leader; I remembered what that one this afternoon had said to his comrade about the council. If he said that the old Kazekage was dead the council would have to find someone to replace him with even if they didn't want to. I got up from the chair and went to my bedroom hopefully in the morning it would be all better.