Chapter Six

Of A Heart, Crumbling to Pieces

Back up the stairs…?

Quickly I follow him, plodding up the long flights of stairs until we reach the highest floor. We take a familiar path, past Kira's and my room, past his bedroom, past his office, and step through a familiar door. I step onto the roof behind Gaara, and we walk to the edge. Judging by the position of the sun, it's just less than an hour after noon. The two of us stand side by side on the edge of the roof.

"I like to set off from here," Gaara says.

"Set off…?"

Smiling, he turns to me, raising a finger to his lips, then wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close against him. "Hold onto me," he says. A little surprised, I slip my arm around his waist, and he raises two fingers of his free hand. A sand barrier circles us, and soon we're being lifted into the air on a platform of sand.

"Sabaku Kokubin."

The barrier vanishes and the platform solidifies itself. Our path soon becomes sturdy while the jutsu continues to rise. We seem to be nearing the clouds.

"Let's not go too high…" I suggest absentmindedly, looking up.

"This is high enough anyway." The jutsu stops rising. He steps away and drops to one knee. "Look around. You can see all of Sunagakure from here."

I look over the edge of the platform and immediately regret it. The height is dizzying. Stepping back, I turn and smile at him, a little sheepishly. He shakes his head. "You won't fall. Anyway… you can sit down now, we'll be awhile. You said yourself that Wind Country isn't small."

The minute I sit down, the jutsu begins to move slowly forward. "Is this all timed?" I ask him, surprised.

"Thought," he replies. No wonder everything's so perfect.

"Is this for long distances?"

"Yeah, it's what I use when I'm looking over Wind Country. I have a separate jutsu for short distances. This isn't nearly as fast as Sabaku Fuyu, though."

Suspension technique for short distances… just like mine.

"Is it hard looking after so much?" I wonder out loud.

"My will is to protect these villagers," Gaara responds. "I want to feel needed… not as a frightening weapon, but as a reliable leader. I want to give these people someone to look up to."

A cold shock sears through me.

"What? You were used as a weapon?"

"In my childhood… A while ago."

I look down at the village rapidly receding below us. "A while ago… by the same people you're trying to protect now?"

"The very same."

"No… no way… no. You're fifteen. You're not even a young adult yet. This means this wasn't that long ago."

"You could say that." There's a little pause. "I'm sure you know why."

"I don't know all of it."

"It was because of Ichibi, Shukaku. It was sealed into me at birth by one of the two elders of the village when Sunagakure was facing times of crisis. A sacrifice was needed for this seal, and my mother was used. She never loved me… she cursed me and she cursed the village until her last moments. I was shunned by my family immediately… there was nothing to speak of the villagers." He looks down, continuing. "I'd reach out to them, but it never worked. It wasn't ever seen in the proper light. In my family I was known as my mother's killer and people simply assumed everything that had gone wrong, even the crisis before my birth, had been my fault. The only one I'd thought cared for me was my mother's brother, Yashamaru."

I follow his gaze downward and scrape a few grains of sand from the surface I'm riding, playing with them and pulling them through my fingers. I'd never heard anything of this sort before.

"The Fourth Kazekage, my dad, began to send assassination attempts on me – I killed them without realizing what I was doing. I was so confused… I didn't realize… until the day my dad sent Yashamaru in a disguise. I wounded him fatally without knowing who it was. He took off his disguise and told me he could have turned down the mission and decided to take it because he'd always hated me in secret for killing his sister. He asked me to 'please die' and blew himself up as a last effort. I survived," he gestures to the kanji, (love), on his forehead, "and created this with my sand to represent a person who lived only for himself and loved only himself. I figured one had to have a purpose in life… and I thought I'd finally found mine."

There is another small silence while the once gentle breeze intensifies, whistling through my ears.

"For a few years this lasted. Perhaps I didn't know who I'd become, or what I was doing. But just two years ago I realized I wanted to change this lonely road. I realized that the only way to do this was to forge this new path with my own power. I didn't want the villagers' fear of me to grow any more. And through forging this new road I realized that feelings… anger, sorrow, even joy… are meant to be shared. That being able to express and share emotions is a sign of strength, not weakness. It took a while. I became the Fifth Kazekage earlier this year; the people respect me, and I'm doing the best I can. I've come far, but I can't deny the fact that my past remains an indelible part of me…" He trails off.

Why? Why do these things happen?

I concentrate on the pace of the grains of sand as they slip through my fingers to rejoin the surface of the jutsu. A few moments later I'm surprised as the sand directly under me begins to darken and my eyes begin to blur.

I can't remember the last time I've shed tears. It's come to a point where I don't even recognize the feeling anymore.

My fingers lift to my eyes and return dripping with tears. What is this supposed to mean? They quickly dry in the wind. A few moments later I drop my head into my hands as a sudden headache seems to split my skull in two.

This doesn't make sense. I don't understand.

Aren't some things just impossible…? If things of this caliber wouldn't be impossible, I just can't see what would be.

Maybe this isn't happening. Perhaps I'm just dreaming.

"Sora."

The sound of his voice tells me I'm not.

Water slowly drips through my fingers as I fight to remain breathing independent of my tears.

When I came here, I must have thought life wouldn't go this way anymore.

"Sora-"

"I don't understand." I cut him off, abruptly raising my head to stare at him. "It's not right. I don't understand."

"Things just-"

"I don't understand." My voice fades away into a whisper as my head drops back into my hands. "I wish I could. I wish I could figure out – even for one day – why these things happen. But I can't…"

"I know, Sora. I know… No one can explain the ways of the world, however much we want to."

Silence fills the air as I grapple with my thoughts. A belief that had for some time lain dormant is rising again to the surface.

"…But at least to know we aren't the only ones who are confused. Let's keep going, Sora."

It's what I can do for now. I can think later. I can attempt to forget the overwhelming past I've just heard and actually enjoy the tour.

The flight of the jutsu speeds up. I look out at the sprawling desert lands of Wind Country, the barren yet beautiful lands that seem to stretch on forever. Even as high as we are, the lands continue on for as far as the eye can see.

It's not long before we encounter another village. The layout of the village is similar to Sunagakure's with the exception of there not being a central building which all the roads in the city lead to. It is maybe half the size of Wind Country's main village, with around half its action. Gaara begins to list the details of this village that we're now passing. I listen attentively, interested in his genuine knowledge of the country.

"We'll be passing the one lake in the middle of Wind Country now. It comes off a cliff that's actually pretty high, so it's really difficult to get water from there… We have separate water towers running from other countries' rivers. The Wind Lake simply stands as a marked monument of the country." His voice is light and slightly carefree, the way it was when we first left on our little excursion. I'm beginning to appreciate everything he's doing for me; I'm beginning to admire him for his extensive, genuine interest in the world he leads.

If it was ever possible for Gaara to trust, I wouldn't let him down… I'd let him know not everything in this world is as hopeless as he would have been led to believe.

As soon as the thought occurs to me, I try to dismiss it. He wouldn't be able to trust anyone after what's happened to him. Anyway, the dormant fear in me has been awakened at his story… I'd never believed in love or the goodness of the human nature. How could I have believed in human goodness when all they'd done was disappoint me, failing to live up to what I'd expected from them? After meeting Gaara I'd allowed this belief to slide, thinking, here is the perfect example of a person who is living well, a person who, by himself, can prove wrong what I thought about people in general. But then hearing about what fate has dealt to even this person has become an admonishment never to let go of my initial beliefs.

Gaara continues speaking about the area we're around. I look over at him as mixed emotions wash over me.

Life. It's short and brutal. It's characterized by a lack of hope, emotion, or sanity.

I reach over and rest my hand in his.

The second I do this, he trails off, slowly looking down.

Life. Too often it can't go on. Too often the people it is subjected to turn helplessly in the other direction, begging for death.

A fate that is so much more final, unchanging… and at the same time not as cruel.

He slowly closes his fingers over mine, and a warmth unlike any I've known spreads through me.

As people, unable to give themselves completely over to death, flee in all directions, running from everyone and everything they've come to know… in other directions. So many of us.

I think I know the word for this kind of warmth… but I don't want to know. How could I? I shouldn't be capable of feeling this way.

We sit in silence, watching over the country together.

Somehow I feel I won't be here for long. Even when he did nothing wrong, he'd been shunned by everyone, even his family… Is there anything I can do for him now, after fifteen years? How could he be able to trust after this?

I want to stay by his side. I won't hurt him.

But if it isn't good for him… I'll enjoy the time we do have.

For the rest of the tour, his warm hand seems to send through mine memories of a family I never knew.