Brother,

I am ashamed to admit this, but I always wanted to hold someone's hand. Honestly, I had given up on the idea. In the palace, I am above them. If by chance they are not, I have to worry about plots and treachery. I never had anyone I could trust enough to even want to consider a friendship with. Who would have thought it would be a foreigner?

The first time I almost held his hand, he was sitting across from me, looking irritated. Taking a chance, I spoke to him for the first time. If I am right, I asked him if he was okay. He was surprised and even a bit embarrassed as he replied, repeating the word back. I reached out to touch him then, but the door opened, and I lost my nerve.

The problem with not being able to communicate is that I am unsure if he feels the same. While I trust him, I do not know if it is reciprocated. I cannot help but laugh at myself for my cowardice.

Even though we cannot communicate well, he must have been looking out for me. My tutor changed. To a boy who is energetic and younger than I am. The first time I met him, it was by mistake. The boy was wandering in the garden outside my room, stubbing his toe on a rock. I did not need to know the language to know he was cursing. He reminded me a bit of you. I laughed.

Everyone in this place seems unrealistically graceful and coordinated. Even Haru and Natsu, who are younger than me, possess that efficiency and capability. That one simple mistake made that boy appear more relatable than anyone else. My small laugh drew his attention. He stared at me wide-eyed and anxious, but quickly approached, bowing awkwardly. At this point, I realized that bowing to one another was a greeting here, so I did so back to him. He introduced himself.

For some reason, he remained flustered, but he was also curious. I bet he had never seen someone like me in his life before. In an effort to avoid my mistake from before, I only gave him my given name. His name was Uzumaki Naruto.

Naruto is quite amusing. When he realized I could not really understand him, he started miming things, making himself look the fool, trying to get his point across. I could not help but smile. It was the most entertaining thing I had seen since arriving. My reaction to him, slowly put the boy at ease as well, as he gradually forgot my appearance and grew comfortable.

I am satisfied with him as a teacher. He is clumsy, and he is not the same status as everyone here, but he is smart, though first appearances may say otherwise. I do not know why, but he is terrified of Neji, and Neji does not appear to like him either. Neji was almost protective of me when he appeared, seeing me interact with him. I thought I had spoken to someone dangerous or someone I wasn't supposed to, who would have thought he was just my future tutor.

Of course, such a moment of levity is often followed by heavy news. Brother, I am not in China as I had thought. I am even farther East. I am in Japan.

I thought China was unlucky, but at least it was on the continent. There were caravans I could take to get home. There was a sliver of a chance. Japan, I heard its borders were closed to the outside world and that they were killing any foreigners who appeared within their border. That was why Neji and the other were keeping me from sight when we left. I knew going home was probably not likely, but now, with confirmation, it has really sunk in. I am alone here in this foreign land with no hope of getting back.

If I am honest, I had pondered whether I would even survive the journey here. I had suffered homesickness, anger, helplessness, shock, and so many more emotions I cannot even describe. By the time I had arrived, I never truly thought I would succeed in any escape. I tried not to admit such things aloud, but I am no fool. Even in my previous letters, I mentioned how unlikely it was. Meeting Neji again, getting closer to him, I had hope that perhaps….

I should not complain. Given my circumstances, this more than I could ever hope for. I am well cared for even if it is not the life I had become accustomed to there are some aspects that are better than home. I know the people of this house are doing their best to protect me, and slowly, I am leaving my room, and observing the world around me.

Neji had a hand in that. I feel that without him, I would have stayed in my depressive state. I am working hard to try to learn the language for him. I have things I wish to say and become frustrated when I can't. I know he feels the same, knowing I cannot understand him when he speaks. When I had grown disappointed from learning my location, he was at a loss on how to comfort me.

Later I found him sleeping outside in the sun. He was still wearing clothes from the night before and had his inks spread all around him, discarded paper crumpled up in frustration. In front of him was his attempt to paint me. I could tell it was me, but it really did not look like me as he had used that oriental drawing style with the round faces and small eyes. Reflecting on it, the painting could have been for someone else, but I could not help but take it because he painted it.

The painting itself lacked beauty compared to the painter anyhow. I had never seen him in the sunlight before. His black hair shone like polished onyx, the perfection of his snow-white skin shone in the light, his features were soft and gentle. Awake he always appeared cold and distant, tired and weary of the world. I never could have imagined he possessed such a face. A face that would put those Christian angels to shame. It is a face one could stare at and lose hours. And when I placed the robe they gave me over him to keep him warm in absence of a blanket, he stirred.

His eyes fluttered open, revealing the hint of molten silver, drawing attention to long dark lashes. His eyes focused on me, only briefly. Such a predatory gaze that made my heart sputter. And then he fell back asleep. Rather than an angel, perhaps I should compare him to a cobra. Beautiful but posed an underlying danger.

Listen to me, talking about the beauty of a man, but truly, no woman could compare. I wish you could see him and lament how much of a waste it is on him.

Do not misunderstand me though, he may appear delicate, but he knows how to fight. On one of my braver nights, leaving the manor completely in search of him, I found him training with a sword. Naruto calls them a katana. Being on the battlefield, I could sense his bloodlust, his murderous intent. Whoever he was imagining, he wanted to kill. Similarly to how I would like to kill Father.

I did not get to see much of his skills. He noticed me too quickly. From the little I could see, he was faster and more precise than any swordsman I have ever encountered. With the growing use of firearms, swordsmanship was dying. It is a sad thought to think that such a disciplined and beautiful skill would die out in a few generations.

I showed him some of the swordsmanship from our homeland. I only meant to give him a demonstration, but he joined in. His eyes were alight with playfulness as he toyed with me. His skill was obviously superior to mine, yet he kept showing off. I knew he was faster and not using all his strength, but I cannot help but think I saw a new side of him. A playful side that he hid behind his dignified demeanor.

Then he told me to go to bed like a child.

I do not know why he insists on treating me as such. He is not much older than me. 5 years perhaps? It is hard to tell Asian ages. They always look younger than they are. Even so, he kept insisting, so I made the compromise of going if he went. Fresh from sparring and my spirit high, I managed to hold his hand. I felt the spar was the last step in cementing our brotherhood. I saw him as my equal. I trusted him. I deemed him worthy.

Writing it down, I realize how foolish it was to think so. Just because I wanted to befriend him did not mean he felt the same. Perhaps that is why he pulled his hand away. Maybe he did not deem me worthy. In the end, are I not just a pet? Fed, cared for, trained. I am a prince, but he does not know that. He probably sees me as beneath him.

And yet I still hope. I want his approval. His attention. I want to speak to him and be able to see into his thoughts. I want him to see the smile he displays so rarely. I want to hope that one day, he will consider me a friend as well.

I may have to wait for it. This evening, I saw him leaving with an entourage with many supplies. I do not know what is going outside these walls, but I do pray for safe travels. Maybe next time, he can bring me with him.

Until then, I will keep learning and send him letters if he can. If he sees me worth the time, perhaps he will send a response. I do not know how long they will be gone for, but I sense it will be a while before we meet again. I do not wish to lose the progress that we have made. I do not want him to forget me.

May you stay safe,

Gaara