Date Revised: November 15, 2020
Beta: Toothless - thanks for going over this even though you're not in the fandom, haha!
Part I: Lacrimosa
I want to love this dazzling world once more
On a cloudless night in Sunagakure, a hawk flew overhead, swooping past barren desert and modest clay houses. The night was cool, and the wind warm. Its yellow eyes focused on a circular building with the kanji of 'wind' painted on its side. Fluorescent light spilled from several windows and a shadow of a figure could be seen from within.
With practiced ease, the hawk glided down towards the building, the metal cannister strapped to its back glinting for a brief moment as it reflected the moonlight. As it perched on the windowsill, it caught the attention of the sole person in the office. A redhead straightened his back and beckoned the hawk inside with a crooked finger. It stared back at him with fierce eyes before surveying its surroundings.
Furthest from the window, a large bookshelf occupied the entire wall. It was lined with books, the writing on the spines faded and illegible. A weathered sand gourd leaned on a beige couch situated near the door. Several large potted plants were placed around the room like an afterthought.
The only colour in the room came from the large purple rug under the desk and the deep burgundy – almost brown – cloth draped over it. An absurd amount of paperwork were scattered on top.
Cocking its head, the hawk flew into the room and landed on the table, careful not to disturb any papers. Preening and showing off its plumage, it twisted its body to present the metal cannister to the redhead.
There was a rustling of paper before the weight on its back lessened somewhat. It craned its neck and watched as the red-haired boy read the contents of the message, watched as the boy sighed deeply. He dropped the paper and the hawk jumped as sand shot out of the gourd, devouring the note until there was no trace left.
Satisfied the message was received and disposed of, the hawk flapped its wings a few times, before flying out the window and off into the night, back to Konohagakure.
X
Nine months earlier…
Only the weak hope, Shukaku had whispered in Gaara's ears during his childhood. They hope because they're too weak to do anything by themselves.
For the longest time, Gaara believed it to be true, and so he lived for himself, to satisfy himself and the bijuu inside of him. The only hope he entertained was the hope he could continue to re-affirm his existence each day. That was his purpose in life.
Had been his purpose in life, before his utter defeat.
His injuries were so severe he couldn't even grimace when Kankuro and Temari yanked him painfully to his feet as they headed back home. Shukaku was silent, and Gaara experienced for the first time the weight of his thoughts in its entirety. The emotions were his, and his alone.
He stared at the Konohagakure sky from Kankuro's back, felt the cold, crisp wind of autumn on his cheeks. Tears sprang to his eyes – not from the pain, but from the realisation which came with his defeat.
He felt foolish and thoroughly chided. His purpose in life was flawed.
Where did he fit in this world now?
X
When he woke up, he was back in his room.
His whole body ached with unfamiliar pain, and it took great effort for him to raise his head and sit himself upright. Memories of his fight with Uzumaki Naruto replayed in his mind.
He was just like him, but he had built a different future – a different life – all with his own two hands.
Could he do the same? Maybe it was not too late to change who he was.
Impossible, Shukaku whispered traitorously. To kill is all you know. His laughter echoed in Gaara's mind, filling him with dread. Sand poured out of his gourd, restless and angry.
"No," he groaned, clutching his head. "You're wrong…"
You love to kill, you love the smell of carnage and blood…You love the screams of the helpless…
"You made me this way," he said through gritted teeth, pushing his bijuu back into the recesses of his mind in vain.
I didn't make you into anything you weren't already, Shukaku whispered, his voice cold and cruel. You've been a killer since birth. This is who you are!
Gaara screamed then, his sand crashing around his room like waves. Rumbling, crashing, thunderous. Shukaku's words echoing in his head, heavy and accusing – killer. Killer. Killer.
This is who you are. This is who you are. This is who we are.
He howled, clutching his head in pain, and Shukaku cackled as he felt his control slip. Sand lashed around his room like strong gusts of wind, like a hurricane, and Gaara was at the eye of the storm.
Shukaku's power swept over him like hot coals, and his body felt on fire. Belatedly, he realised Shukaku was forcing the start of the transformation. Already, his arm was starting to morph.
Hurry, let's kill! Let us pass judgement on that Naruto brat –
"SHUT UP!" Gaara roared, trying to retain what little sanity he had left. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" He squeezed his eyes shut, willing Shukaku away. His whole body shuddered at the effort of containing the monster inside of him. The urge to kill was too much, it felt like he was holding his breath, slowly suffocating himself.
Finally, finally, after what felt like hours, he felt Shukaku's presence subside. He was curled up in what was left of his bed, cold sweat all over.
It was a small victory against his bijuu, but it was his win.
And just like that, Gaara dared himself to hope.
X
Statues of past Kazekage stared down at the twelve council members of Sunagakure. They had already met several times in the past week, but the matter of the new Kazekage was yet to be resolved.
Kankuro, the forefront candidate for the position, had hidden himself away from the council and refused to come out of his room. 'Fuck off' had been freshly painted in black outside his door, a clear indication of where he stood on the matter.
They were now forced to consider the jinchuuriki as an option.
Joseki, one of the newer council members, tapped his fingers on the large circular table as if in preparation, before clearing his throat. Already, some of the council members looked at each other, frowning.
Even though he had only been elected three years ago, Joseki was vocal and pushed for drastic change. His ideas and proposals were too radical, and most of the council disagreed with him on principle.
"There are more suitable candidates if we look outside the Kazekage clan."
Murmurs followed the statement.
"Surely you're joking," Ikanago replied, raising her voice above the others. She was an old woman, her wispy grey hair strategically hidden by the standard turban worn by all Suna council. "The Kazekage clan has the strongest bloodline. They've produced top shinobi time and time again. The boy's no different. He's already killed several of our jounin and he isn't even thirteen!"
Joseki laughed scornfully. The two had never seen eye to eye, and they wouldn't start now. "The loyal lapdog of the Kazekage clan, everyone. Ikanago-senior would rather we all die than give the title to another."
Ikanago's glare bordered on murderous. It was no secret she held the Kazekage and the clan in high regard. After all, Rasa had been her student, and his death hit her hard.
It felt wrong – compared to her, Rasa was still young. There was still potential there, and his death caused deep sorrow. But heart had no place in the council, and she forced herself to calm down.
"Then, show me a stronger applicant and I'll reconsider," she said. Her eyes met Joseki's without faltering. "I'll see if he's suitable myself." She may be retired, but she was once the chief of ANBU and she refused to bow down to someone her junior.
"Why you-"
"There hasn't been any reports of his…activities, ever since he returned from Konoha," Ryusa said, trying to placate the two seniors. He was one of the younger ones, but he'd been in the council for more than five years. Politics was a fickle thing, and money was fickler, but Ryusa had a knack for such fickle things. "Maybe he's changed?"
Tojuro, ever the shrewd, snorted. "That's like saying a lion can finally be tamed since it hasn't hunted for a week. It's just biding its time, Ryusa. Shukaku lost, and he won't take this lightly. Mark my words."
There was a terse silence as each individual envisioned Shukaku's revenge on their village. Tojuro was one of the oldest members in the council. He was no stranger to Shukaku's temperament, having witnessed many of Shukaku's containers throughout his lifetime.
"Well, we have to make a choice," Yura said grimly, resting his chin on steepled fingers, "And soon. Our village is in a precarious position. The longer we don't have a Kazekage, the weaker we'll look to others."
His sharp eyes didn't fail to see Rokuro's fists clenching. Rokuro had been elected only recently, after Rasa was confirmed dead. His family was one of the most affluent in Suna, and he didn't bother hiding the fact he bought his way into the council.
He didn't bother hiding the fact he hated Gaara, either.
"Listen to me, all of you," Rokuro said, standing up and placing his hands on the circular table. "We can't control the jinchuuriki. He could ruin the entire village! Is it worth making him the Kazekage to save face?"
"I can teach Gaara-sama," Ikanago volunteered in earnest. "If it's political affairs you're worried about, Rokuro-san, I'm more than capable to guide him."
Rokuro casted his eye upwards and silently prayed for patience. The old woman was as obtuse as she was deaf. "Ikanago-senior, it's not a matter of who will teach him. The problem is can he be taught? Can he be controlled? Baki?"
Eleven pairs of eyes turned to look at the jounin who had taken the jinchuuriki under his wing.
"He can be…difficult to deal with," Baki admitted hesitantly. Gaara's violent rampages came to mind and he barely held back a grimace.
Rokuro's grin was triumphant. "You see? He's too polite to say it, but the boy's insane. He can't be controlled. And you want him to lead us, Ikanago-senior? Teaching him politics would be the least of our worries. Listen to reason, I beg you."
Sajo shook his head sadly as his eyes slid to Arisu. "Ah, but who wouldn't go insane after having Shukaku sealed in him?"
"What are you looking at, Sajo-san?" Arisu snapped, scowl deepening.
Sajo shrugged. "I'm just saying, we're underestimating the boy. The fact he's lasted this long with Shukaku speaks of his mental fortitude."
Arisu snorted, unladylike. Sajo was always too trusting for his own good. "If killing in cold blood every few days is what you call mental fortitude, then I'd call yours into question. Don't think for a moment the village will take this matter sitting down. They won't agree to having a monster for a Kazekage."
"Come now, Arisu-san," Yumi said, placing her sewing down before smiling at the rest of the council politely. "They wouldn't dare do anything to Gaara-sama. If anything, the village will direct their ire to us, but what difference would it make?" She sighed, forlorn. "They already hate us since we approved the decision to invade Konoha."
Arisu narrowed her eyes. "If you remember, I was against the idea from the very beginning-"
"We made choices we believed were right at the time," Goza said, raising his voice. His imposing figure quickly put a stop to the bickering. "We're simply reaping what we've sown. Ebizo-jiisama, what's your final decision? Tell us and we'll follow."
Ebizo, who was listening half-heartedly to the debate, sighed heavily. His whole body ached and he wanted nothing more than to lie down in his bed and sleep the day away. Besides, since when had Suna become this weak they would need to rely on a jinchuuriki to show strength?
Times have truly changed, he thought wearily before standing up. Hushed conversations stopped and everyone turned to look at him.
"If we're reaping what we've sown, then we deserve to have the jinchuuriki as our Kazekage. Dismissed."
In an instant, the council was in an uproar.
Ebizo left the members to argue amongst themselves and headed for home, expression grim.
Whether he made the right choice or the wrong one…hell lay ahead of them. (1)
X
Baki found Gaara sitting atop one of the abandoned guard towers on the outskirts of the city, staring at the moon and the stars deep in thought. It was rare for his student to be so pensive at this time of night. He was usually insatiable with bloodlust.
"I've arranged for new furniture to be delivered to your room tomorrow morning," he said. He knew better than to remind Gaara of the wreckage he caused earlier in the afternoon. The tiniest thing could cause a trigger for his anger. And his anger was not pretty. "The Suna council wishes for you to see them now."
"I don't wish to be the Kazekage," Gaara replied bluntly, correctly guessing what the council will talk to him about. "Give it to someone else."
Baki sighed. "True, I don't think you're ready to be the Godaime Kazekage, either," he readily admitted. "But the decision was not mine to make." Gaara barked out a laugh.
"Do they wish the village to die in my hands that badly?" He directed his gaze at his teacher. Baki could never get used to his intense stares, but he had been subjected to them enough he had learned not to flinch. It used to make him shudder, catching those eyes which looked at him like prey.
He lowered his eyes. "We make the decisions based on what would benefit the village as a whole," he explained. "Even though they don't like you-"
"Oh, I don't doubt it," Gaara muttered under his breath.
"- the needs of the village trumps the wants of a few," Baki finished.
Gaara seemed to mull over this statement. "Tomorrow, then," he finally said, turning his eyes skyward. "I'll meet with them tomorrow. Right now, I want to be alone." Baki lowered his head in acquiesce, concealing his surprise.
"Of course."
X
The large, round table in the Suna council room had been replaced with a long, rectangular one. Twelve council members sat with backs straight, most of them anxious and desperate to get the meeting over and done with.
"You may enter," Ebizo finally boomed. In a flurry of sand, the boy stood before him and the council, arms crossed.
His unkempt auburn hair framed his pale, narrow face and covered the kanji of 'love' on his forehead. The edges of his eyes were dark from lack of sleep. The material of his clothes were thin and tattered, and dried blood scarred his garments, a visible warning for those who drew near him.
"Kami, when was the last time you had a haircut, boy?" Ebizo said, frowning. "You look like you grew up in the wilderness." He turned to Arisu. "We can't have the future Godaime Kazekage looking like this. Have someone come in later today to make this boy some proper clothes." (2)
The boy narrowed his eyes. "I never said I wanted to be the Kazekage," he replied, levelling him with a stare. Ebizo chuckled and leaned forward, fully aware the rest of the council were on the edges of their seats, ready at a moment's notice to dart towards the door.
"You came here willingly, boy," Ebizo said. "You're not like your brother. He has no ambition, that fool. But you – you could be great."
The sand in the boy's gourd rattled. "I'm already great," the boy countered, challenging him. Ebizo hummed again, and it seemed to agitate the boy further. Sand had started to slither out of the gourd and onto the floor like snakes, hissing.
"Ah, perhaps," Ebizo said, eyes watching the boy's movements carefully. "But your greatness comes from the bijuu. Without it, you're powerless."
The boy bared his teeth. "I can still kill you without Shukaku's help," his voice was low, but filled with promise. Ebizo could feel the discomfort of his colleagues, but paid them no mind. Once they get to his age, one must be ready for death.
"Being the Godaime Kazekage will give you power Shukaku cannot," Ebizo continued, unruffled. "Respect, instead of fear. Loyalty, instead of resentment. Love, instead of hate." The boy stood perfectly still, but Ebizo knew now he was listening intently. He chose his next words carefully.
"If you're tired of being a monster, why not become the hero for a change?" The boy's head shot up and met his, eyes wide in surprise. Ebizo gave him a knowing smile.
X
Present…
Gaara looked out the window before turning back to his paperwork. If the Fourth Kazekage could see him now, he would be rolling in his grave. Being a Kazekage was not something he envisioned for the jinchuuriki he brought into this world, and yet here he was. He recalled again the message he received.
I'm willing to listen to your request.
For the past few months, he could feel his control slowly loosening, and it took longer for him to build defences against Shukaku each time. The mental battles he waged daily in his head was taking its toll, and Shukaku was slowly poisoning his thoughts, so subtly he wondered how deep his bijuu's influence truly was. Grimly, he realised Shukaku fully taking over was only a matter of time.
With each passing day he was falling deeper into quiet madness.
But damn it, he refused to give up without a fight.
X
Extra notes:
(1) This was taken from Hunter X Hunter quote by Kite during the Chimera Ant Arc. Originally, he said: Whether we win or lose, hell lies ahead of us.
(2) Headcanon: Gaara was already being considered for the position of Kazekage in the Sasuke retrieval arc, which is why he had an outfit change during Lee v Kimimaro fight haha.
OCs introduced:
Arisu ("the noble sort"), Yumi ("reason, cause"), Rokuro ("the sixth son")
The rest of the Suna council members exist in canon.
Author's Note:
I must have rewritten this first chapter so many times! I think I'm finally okay with it. Maybe. Haha. The original was too angsty too soon! So I tried to pull back haha! Please let me know what you think of this chapter – reading your reviews honestly make my day!
Please enjoy the next chapter!