I finally got a reviewer! Yay! So, this is basically the same thing with a different ending. I'll be posting oneshots after this on an irregular schedule, but, I should have the next one up by Sunday. Dedicated to GaaraLove4-ever, who reviewed!

...

Gaara heard it coming.

Before he could really process what the sound meant, he raised his hand to raise the sand to shield her.

The sand blocked multiple kunai shots that would have killed her instantly. Gaara knew it wouldn't have killed him, because of the sand, but he still gaped when he saw the blades lying on the ground once the sand fell. Shiny and sharp, one aimed at Fumiko's head, three aimed at his back. He registered her shocked eyes, and jerked his head around to see the attacker.

Why? Why me? he thought when the masked man pulled out more. Why is it always me?

But he couldn't let the man fire again. Gaara wasn't very accurate with his abilities, it was lucky that he got the shield up so quickly the first time. So he stood and blasted sand at the man, cocooning him. With a shout, he squeezed it, and the sand spat the man out with that awful cracking noise bodies made. When it hit the ground, Fumiko screamed.

"Who are you?" Gaara demanded in a shaky voice, holding his arms to his chest. "What do you want?"

When the man didn't answer him, he glanced at Fumiko, who took a few edging steps toward the body. Gaara followed suit, and just before they reached him, Gaara saw it: a bandage on the man's finger.

No. He swallowed. Gaarra knelt and cautiously so cautiously reached a trembling hand out the the cloth blocking the man's face from view. He touched it, then, steeling himself, yanked it off. Gaara's eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat.

Yashamaru lie there, dazed, blood coming out of his mouth and a cut on his forehead. He stared blankly at Gaara.

Gaara flinched. His eyes twitched and he trembled, clutching his chest. Gaara screamed in confusion, startling Fumiko, who stood beside the body, frozen in fear. Fumiko looked down on him in concern, but he could see that her eyes were drawn to the three thin trails of blood down Yashamaru's face. "Why... Why? Yashamaru... Why did you do it? I don't understand..."

Now Gaara's eyes welled with tears. His voice cracked. Gaara hunched over in grief, pulling on his own hair to try and alleviate the crushing pain in his heart.

"Tell me why..."

Surely, if he loved Gaara, he wouldn't have...

"I thought... Yashamaru... If I'm precious to y-you... how could you?"

"It was an order." his voice was whisper soft, and he couldn't seem to meet Gaara's eyes. Gaara sniffled and looked at him. "You see, I was ordered to kill you, Gaara. By Lord kazekage. Your father."

Fumiko's mouth opened in a silent gasp and Gaara just stared. His tears flowed on their own in his shock. Fumiko dropped to her knees beside Yashamaru, across from Gaara, and reached out a hand as if to wipe off the blood before pulling back.

"My father..?"

Gaara felt absolutely sick to his stomach, and he swallowed hard, putting a hand over his mouth. Gaara made a choking sound, trying not to scream again, or puke. "Why me?" he gasped when he got his nausea under control. His head stayed down. "Why would... my father..."

"You were born with the Shukaku." Yashamaru said. "A living sand spirit inside you. All these years you have been watched and studied... as part of a great experiment. It became clear that you could never control it, the Shukaku that possesses the power of the sand itself. The day is coming when your existence will become too dangerous for the village. It had to be done before then."

Finally Gaara looked up at him, tears in his eyes, and smiled bitterly, but also in relief, because that meant he still... Yashamaru still... But his father... He could feel Fumiko's hand on his arm as she reached over the soon-to-be-corpse. Her small voice trembled. "Gaara..."

"You had to obey my father." Gaara said. "You didn't have any choice."

"You're wrong." Yashamaru said with a faint, ironic smile. "I had a choice."

Flashing 'pain' shot through Gaara's veins hand in hand with surprise. He stared down at his uncle, eyes wider than he thought they could be, at the man who taught him about love and wounded hearts. He stared back, and Gaara wondered if, had he been more conscious, Yashamaru would have sugarcoated it. What is he... saying..?

Fumiko's grip tightened.

"Yes. Lord Kazekage made his wishes known to me," Yashamaru admitted. "But... I could have refused if I had chosen to."

Gaara's breath hitched and he tried to breathe.

"I suppose it's because... deep in my heart... I hate you, Gaara."

Gaara's heart almost stopped.

"...I've always hated you."

"Gaara," Fumiko said. His head jerked up spastically and he saw her and realized Yashamaru had aimed at her, too. Furiously he wiped an arm over his eyes, scraping off tears in an attempt to not seem so weak. However, more fell to replace them. "I don't think..."

"My sister died bringing you into this world. I can't forgive you for that." Yashamaru's eyes were longing and dull. He stared up at the sky. "I told myself that you were all that was left of her. And since I loved her, I should love you. I tried. But I never could. It wasn't her choice to have you. To be made a human sacrifice. And so she died, cursing this village. The day she died... I felt a wound in my heart that I knew would never heal."

He paused, taking a breath.

"Your name is... the one your mother gave you. Your name is Gaara, a demon that loves only itself, as you must love no one else. Care for no one's existence but your own. Fight only for yourself. In that way, you will be sure to survive."

Fumiko's hand was warm through his shirt.

"This is the dying gift your mother left you. But not out of maternal affection. It is not from love that she gave you your name." Yashamaru's voice turned almost harsh. "It was from her undying rage at this village- it was part of her curse that you should survive and grow."

Gaara cried out, trying to voice his own feelings. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he wanted to pass out.

"Her hate lives on in you. You were never loved, Gaara."

"Gaara, please-" Fumiko said, but Gaara couldn't really hear her anymore.

"Never."

"But... Fumiko..." Gaara muttered. "She..."

Yashamaru reached for his jacket and Fumiko had to let go of Gaara's sleeve. Unzipping it, there was a spark as the papers pasted to his body lit up. Gaara didn't realize what it was until it was too late, caught up in grief like he was. The spark burned.

"But now..." he smiled softly, and Fumiko screamed, realizing too late, too late. Gaara still didn't understand. "It's over."

There was quiet as sadness drowned out Fumiko's ringing screams.

"Please die."

"Gaara!"

There was a bright light, and something slammed into him with the force of a bowling ball as Yashamaru exploded with a ferocious bang. Gaara was knocked over onto his back, and the sand rushed to protect him. For a second, the world was just, noise, noise, and confusion, but then the blast died down, and there was just a deafening quiet.

Gaara panted and stared into Fumiko's wide eyes. At the last second, it seemed, she had jumped over the dying man- aiming to hold onto Gaara, because the sand would protect him.

She was on top of him, one hand pushing weakly on his chest, the other bent at the elbow on the ground beside his neck. Her hair was in his face, but Gaara didn't care because, Oh, God, Yashamaru had tried to kill them. Tears still tracked down his face.

They stared at each other for a minute.

Then, Fumiko broke into a grin.

"I cannot believe," she breathed, "that I didn't just die."

Gaara laughed, a painful, airy sound, but he was still laughing because this girl was a great friend to have. He tried to sit up, bracing one arm against the ground and one around Fumiko so she didn't fall, and pushed himself into a sitting position.

At the movement, Fumiko's face turned white, and she gave a mangled, half restrained scream. Startled, Gaara looked at her.

"What? What is it?"

"My... ahh... foot!"

He saw it, he saw it, and he didn't want to. One of her feet was burned, charred, partly melted. Some of it wasn't even there, disintegrated by the blast. Gaara almost threw up. The burn traveled up to just below her ankle, and from there, the skin was an angry shade of red a quarter of the way up to her knee.

Then he looked up, and this was no time to be having an emotional breakdown, dang it!

Yashamaru wasn't Yashamaru anymore, just a scattered pile of ashes and a few shreds of explosive paper. He forced himself not to cry and then turned back to Fumiko because she was alive and she needed help.

Her face was starting to sweat, but Gaara didn't know anything about healing besides the fact that medicine helped wounds to heal. So, apologizing profusely whenever she screamed, he picked her up bridal style to avoid touching her injured foot, and staggered up.

A single passersby looked, saw, and walked away.

Gaara made his way to any house he could, ringing doorbells and knocking on doors. With every face, though, was another slammed door, because some wouldn't listen to him, and some didn't care. One looked sympathetic, but the rest of the family did not allow her in.

After ten minutes of this, the adrenaline was starting to wear off, and Fumiko was giving small shrieks and moans at every movement. So, finally, Gaara had to go where he didn't want to go: Fumiko's house.

Her family would kill him, Gaara was sure.

But would they let her in?

"My dad said that if I left, not to go... back..."

...

He banged on the door with his foot, breathing hard and struggling under Fumiko's weight. If this didn't work, Gaara didn't know what else he could do but ring doorbells and knock on doors. And he couldn't take her back to his home- if his father had just ordered Gaara killed, him and a guest would not be welcomed.

The door opened, and a weary voice said, "See, Mr. Mitsuwa, I told you she would come back-"

Tired, puffy red eyes stared at him in shock.

Then, they moved down, and Yoshiki let out a yelp.

"Please, let me in," Gaara pleaded. "No one else will help her!"

Yoshiki swore when he saw her foot and opened the door. He glared at Gaara the entire time it took him to step in and have her family rush to their feet and put Fumiko on a futon, and learn that her mother was a medic, and get pushed away by her father.

"What happened to her?" Yoshiki hissed while Fumiko's parents tended her. She screamed and yelled, and Gaara felt wounds in his heart.

"I-"

"Get out!" her father ordered above the noise. "Both of you, out!"

They were ushered out the door, which slammed behind them. Gaara was almost crying, again, he could feel tears building up in his eyes.

"I didn't know," Gaara said. "My... friend betrayed me."

"What?"

"That's what happened. He betrayed me. On orders from my father, Lord kazekage, he tried to kill me."

"Why would your own father-" Yoshiki cried angrily, suspicion clear in his voice.

"Because of the Shukaku," Gaara said miserably. "Because I could become a danger to the village. He tried to kill me with paper bombs, but my sand protected us, only I guess it didn't cover us all the way in time."

"Damn right you're a danger to this village," Yoshiki fumed. Then, scowling, he turned to leave. Gaara didn't know where he was going, because Fumiko was still screaming, but he sped down the street, and Gaara was left on the porch alone. He slumped down into a sitting position, staring at his hands.

All of a sudden, Fumiko's screams seemed to triple in volume, and Gaara jumped. The hands he was staring at shook and blurred as he watched, and tears slid down his cheeks and his nose, dripping off his chin. Gaara clutched his hands to his ears to try and block it out, but he couldn't; and Gaara just slammed his eyes shut and screamed himself to block it out.

A few people had left their homes to see what was going on, but when the sand started whipping feet and lashing in response to its master's agitated state, they quickly went inside to pretend nothing was wrong. The sand swirled and Fumiko screamed and Yashamaru came unbidden to his mind, and Gaara's heart hurt, and for some reason, his head hurt too.

The skin on his forehead was bleeding into his eyes and the sand was making the house creak. Gaara wasn't sure what scared him more: the screaming, or the moment it stopped. It was abrupt and sudden, and it made Gaara's hair stand on end.

Gaara couldn't bring himself to try and go inside, not from fear of Fumiko's family, but from fear that he would see the last thing he could see before he snapped. Could a person die from that kind of burn? It seemed unlikely, but what did he know about healing? Or perhaps she had passed out from pain- either way, Gaara focused on forcing the sand to settle, and wipe the blood out of his eye.

When the door opened behind him a while later, Gaara almost fell backwards. Staring down at him with scary, glinting eyes was what Gaara assumed was Fumiko's father- he looked a little like her, with brown eyes and what might have been her smile had he not been scowling like that.

"Where did Yoshiki go?"

Gaara just swallowed and gave a shaky shrug.

The man's scowl deepened, if that was possible, and he looked at Gaara with something like contempt or fear, or maybe both.

"Sir... is F-fumiko alright?"

He didn't respond.

"Can I..."

"What did you do to my daughter."

It was not a question. So Gaara explained everything in as few words as possible, as quickly as he could. He vetoed the part where he killed a drunk man, and didn't react when the bomb was activated, but he told mostly the truth. As he talked, he could see Fumiko's father's face softening- like stone rather than a bomb shelter wall.

"You can come in," he said, "But I reserve the right to kill you."

Gaara didn't really want to tell him that he couldn't, so he just nodded meekly and brushed past him and through the doorway.

Blood. The smell of it permeated the room, and it almost made Gaara sick because, she hadn't been bleeding before, had she? But when he cautiously approached the futon, he had to bite down of his tongue to keep from screaming or just gasping.

Her foot was gone.

Fumiko's right leg ended a half inch above where the ankle would have been. The stump was wrapped neatly in cloth, and there was salve next to it that Gaara recognized as a medic-nin's blood clotting medicine. Fumiko herself was sleeping, and there was a light bruise blooming on her forehead where she'd been knocked out. Gaara forced himself not to look at the bloody saw-knife thing covered by extra cloth.

"Why did you cut it off?" his voice was small.

"Because it was dead. There were no nerves, or much skin left." her mother answered in a shaky voice.

"Oh."

Gaara pretended not to see the way she shied away when he glided closer to see Fumiko's face, or the wide-eyed look of terror aimed at him by the young girl that looked like her mother in the corner.

Fumiko's hair ruffled slightly as she breathed, a tangled mess of brown scattered by the wind of what could only have been a massive explosion. Gaara wanted to brush it away, but he didn't, because he was surrounded on all sides by her family. His hand twitched, though; just slightly. Fumiko's mother noticed, and Gaara couldn't tell if she was mad at him or her daughter as her eyes darkened.

"Will... will she be okay?"

"We'll have to see about getting her a peg for her foot," her father grumbled, "but yes- she'll be fine with some painkillers."

"Thank- thank you," Gaara murmured. He twisted his hands together uncertainly. "Fumiko- when she found me, she told me that you would not let her back home. I was so worried."

"Not that she cared," Yoshiki's voice said suddenly from the open door. "Not that she cared at all about what we had to say."

"She was just making sure I was okay," Gaara said, a little defensively. "I thought she didn't want to be my friend anymore, when she did. She found me... at a really bad time."

The thought made his eyes water, and he wondered for a second what might have happened had Fumiko not jumped towards him. She could be dead, obliterated, scattered into a pile of ash like Yashamaru. What would Gaara have told her family then? I'm sorry, but when your daughter ignored your wishes and left to come see me she got killed because I wasn't thinking?

"Why are you crying?" a tiny, timid voice asked. When Gaara looked up, he almost flinched at the intensity of the little girl's gaze. What could only be Fumiko's sister just watched him, still carefully tucked into the corner should he attack. "Is it because you're bleeding?"

Gaara, surprised, touched the would on his head. He had forgotten about it.

"Mai," her mother said sharply.

But Mai would not be deterred. She just eyed Gaara.

"Tell me."

"She almost died," Gaara said with difficulty. "and I don't want her to get hurt."

"But she got hurt," the little girl said with a demanding tone. "Does that make you sad?"

"I-" Gaara stuttered, confused. His brain whirred to comprehend what he was being asked. Little Mai looked at him with a scowl, still hiding, but that didn't undermine at all her fierce disposition. "... yes."

"Okay." the girl said, and seemed satisfied.

...

Later, after explaining the story a third time to Fumiko's mother, Gaara found himself seated as far away from Fumiko and her family as they could put him. Gaara assumed they didn't force him to leave only out of fear that he would lose control and kill them all. For the millionth time, Gaara wondered what his life might be like had he not been born with the shikaku.

Hours later, Fumiko's eyes opened, and the first thing she said was, "Ow."

The second thing she said was, "Gaara."