GA-CHAN
Chapter 28
She was certain she was dead. There was a vast expanse of nothing in front of her, both above and below. Grey skies. Brown sands. Exactly what version of Hell or Heaven was this? She walked. She walked and walked, smelling nothing, hearing nothing, and comprehending nothing, until she stumbled upon the massive gates of a kingdom. No . . . not a kingdom. A village. A cart pulled up behind her with stacks of ore and iron. The driver didn't seem to notice her at all. Now that was peculiar.
The gates opened up for him, and when Hinata beheld the village before her she almost couldn't believe what she was seeing. It was Sand. Not once had she ever here, but she recognized it from pictures and such. No other village on the planet fit such a description. Not with its unique turtle shaped houses and limestone structures. There was a subtle haze in the air created by dust and sand, but everything the sun touched turned to gold. She jerked away from the cart as it passed and hurried after it.
The sun shone high above the clouds and there were shops open. In the middle of the square she saw merchants selling carpets, grains, spices, and silks. One stall in particular caught her attention. There were perfumes set in attractive displays amongst the counter. They were made with a special white flower grown in the mountains of Konoha, and went for a handsome price in foreign markets like these. Such flowers had not grown in Konoha for nearly eight years, ever since the climate change had chilled the warm soils on which they grew. Her mother used to wear their perfume.
That's how she knew she was not in the real world anymore.
Instead of being stricken by this or even unsettled, she was merely curious. The pain from her leg was not present, or the vicious hunger, or the headaches . . . oh, the headaches. It was kind of nice. Without knowing it she found herself smiling as she went. When a child walked by and stumbled against her, she caught him easily and smiled. He blushed, looking up at her with bright eyes. A little habit she had picked up in the busy Konoha square. No matter where they came from, children were children.
She wandered for a while. For all the bustle of the market, the rest of Sand was depressingly bare. Certainly not much variety in color, and the people were grim. Not at all like her flowery Konoha. However, she was used to the many grim faces of the Hyuga household and didn't mind it. She passed a quarry, a water tower, and a child's playground. She had not tried to talk to anyone, so when a sandy-haired man came running up to her she tried to get his attention.
Surprisingly he ran right passed her. Worry pricked at her conscious. Was there some sort of emergency? She followed him back to the playground, surprised that he had ended up there instead of the dangerous quarry, and saw him standing with a red-headed child. The children she had seen a little earlier were screaming, frantically running like deer from a fire. They all went right passed her: tripping, crying, panting . . . Their terrified faces were something to see.
The redheaded child, a tiny meek thing, was drawn into his caretaker's arms and carried away. "That child . . ." Hinata whispered when he saw her. "I think that's Gaara-san."
She did not pursue this ridiculous observation. Not at first. Hours on end brought no hunger, no pain, no dreariness. This disturbed her. It blurred the passage of time, made her throat close up with worry. Was she dead or wasn't she? Was she in danger or wasn't she? What about Naruto and Sasuke? Their faces brought her great pain to think of. In her encroaching despair she was vaguely aware of night falling. It was a bizarre transition, swift, blurry, and with an atmospheric shift that made her feel as if time had suddenly lapsed by days.
With no predetermined destination she simply started forward. Wherever she was looked like a more suburban part of Sand. This simulation of night created a sort of tragic coloring upon the community. Just when she started to think she might be the only one about, a stranger popped up in front of her. Or maybe she was the one to pop up?
He was stumbling ahead of her, swaying and mumbling, with a brown bottle clasped loose in hand. She followed him until he stopped. He froze dead in his tracks, giving a small cry. Hinata could faintly hear a hollow splashing from inside the bottle as his hands shook. She wondered what it was that caused him such fright. She should have guessed when a whirl of sand kicked up at his feet. She peeked over his shoulder to see a petit redheaded child.
His eyes were quite dark for a little one, emotionless even, until he locked eyes with hers. The sand dispersed and the drunk went running. Hinata spared him a swift glance, clutching her hands over her abdomen as she dodged his flailing arms.
"You . . ." Hinata turned around. She looked down at this sad little creature with his creased brow and raccoon ringed eyes. "I remember you."
"Yes, I—"
"You helped me in the square. Th . . . um . . . thank you." He blushed, drawing his eyes sideways. Hinata had to think for a moment. Helped him in the square? She did? Ah, he was the little boy who stumbled into her earlier. This meek little creature . . . this was Gaara? "You probably don't remember me, but—"
"Ga-chan." He looked up in surprise.
"You know my—oh. Well, that's no surprise I guess. Everyone knows my name. No one's ever called me that before, though."
"I'm not, um, from around here." At that he gave her a quick look-over, and then diverted his eyes with haste.
"Oh . . . I guess not. But you know me?" At his downright innocence Hinata couldn't help but smile.
"I know you," she said.
"You aren't afraid of me then?" He actually managed a smile himself, a hopeful one. Hinata was fiercely reminded of her little sister in that moment, the little sister she had so coddled before her father got his claws in her.
"I am not afraid of you," she assured him. "Should I be?" He turned sad again.
"Everyone else is."
"Why?" His eyes found his shoes. She got no answer. 'Then they knew,' she thought somberly. 'The village knew what he was. What he is.' "Do you want me to walk you home?" she offered, holding out a hand. Gaara's eyes went wide, his mouth dropping open. He seemed entirely unsure at first, but his hand moved slowly toward hers. He let it hover over her palm, a palm that wasn't much bigger than his, and let it dock. She took it sweetly and asked him to guide the way.
"You're not like the others," he said quietly, and without looking at her. She giggled.
"No?" He shook his head.
'Gaara-san,' Hinata thought with a touch of sadness. 'He was just like any other little boy.'
They never did make it home. She didn't know when, but his tiny hand swept from hers. Darkness fell over her like a curtain, wrapped around her mind and body, dragging her down . . . down . . . it was an absolutely terrifying experience. As if she were drowning.
When she resurfaced it was to see a beautiful night sky. What came into view first was the moon, so much bigger than she had ever seen it. She was lying on her back staring up into a sea of broken glass, clutching her chest as if she had literally been struggling for air. Dragging herself upright was like pushing a boulder up hill. Somehow she managed to get to her feet, and when she did she saw a ledge stretched out on either side of her. Beyond it she could see the mounds of other houses, each with their dome lids and ladle dipped roof tops.
Something moved behind her, giving her a dull start. There was a body sloped against a wall, fabric scraping against limestone as he tilted. The lifelessness in him gave every indication that he was dead. The little boy standing over him she noticed a little late, but only because he had been so still. She approached his side carefully, hands curled into each other.
"He's supposed to blow up," he said. Hinata's heart gave a weighty pound; a real tangible reaction. "He asks me to die. Then he blows himself up, hoping to take me with him. The sand allows me to live, but I . . . I am already dead."
"Who is this, Ga-chan?"
"Yashamaru. My uncle. He was hired by my father to kill me. The first assassin ever to come after me. I was relieved when Yashamaru told me this, because it meant that he had no choice. But that is not so."
"I remember what you told me about your father," Hinata said. If it weren't for the haze of this world she knew she would have been trembling. But what was this intense ache she felt? For some reason she thought of her own father; his many disappointments, his indifference, his condescension, and still could not imagine what Gaara must have went through. "Why did you bring me here?"
Gaara looked at her over his small shoulder. There was a very un-childlike soullessness about his gaze that rocked her insides. "It's not like I meant to bring you here," he said. He no longer sounded like the innocent child he looked like, but the Gaara she knew now. The one from the other world. "Whenever I drift, whenever I sleep, whenever he rears, this is just where I go. I am always here."
Hinata tried to understand. The 'here' he referred to was this tragic dreamworld? If that was true, did that mean he relived these last moments with his uncle again and again? Afraid to dream and afraid to wake . . . it was no wonder Gaara was what he was. How could someone like her compare to someone like him? Still, if there was something, no matter how miniscule, no matter how simple . . . "I don't think you're as alone as you think you are, Ga-chan."
Simple. Yes, that was the simplest thing she could think of. There was a time when she had thought herself to be the loneliest person on earth. Her attachment to Niisan was conceived out of desperation. Then she found Naruto. Kurenai-sensei, Shino and Kiba came later. And then Sasuke. If a sorry human being like her could find someone to love her, surely this once adorable boy could too.
"What do you know of loneliness?" He did not sound angry or spiteful when he said it. "If I did not fight for myself, who would? The Shukaku will never let me die. I do what I do because I am. My existence means nothing otherwise. The Uchiha and I are the same that way." He looked at his uncle again.
"Please," she begged heartfully, "you must bring me back. Back to Sasuke-kun."
"No." Hinata pressed her lips together.
"Why?"
"He is an avenger. He must learn to fight for himself. You will destroy everything he is, so I wanted to take you away from him. If he had no one, if he only strove for power, he could become the perfect prey. I knew that if I killed you he would do everything he could to destroy me, and that hopeless endeavor gave me purpose. It gave me excitement. But . . ."
That wretched soullessness left his eyes. He raised his head to the moon, and Hinata saw a flash of that innocent boy she had met on the road. There was intense thoughtfulness and confusion there. "For some reason I do not want to kill you now. I sense no joy in it. No excitement. It enrages me, having a person like you give me pause."
It was so strange hearing these things from the mouth of a child. Without realizing it she started to smile. It was a tiny curve of her lips, but Gaara saw it and drew his brow together tightly. "You think it's amusing?"
"No!" Hinata shook her head vigorously. "It's just . . . we're all kids, aren't we? We're just forced to grow up quickly. Really, Ga-chan, you are not as alone as you think you are. If only you looked around, you'd realize you had a brother and sister. I am not by Sasuke's side to destroy him. I am there to save him."
"Save him?" He narrowed his eyes. "From what?"
"From becoming his brother."
For a moment that felt like an eternity there was only silence. And then it was over. At the lapse of a cloud the whole thing seemed to split apart in an instance. The ground shook, nearly throwing them into one another. Hinata spun toward the village to see houses collapsing into themselves. Power lines snapped and tipped. When she looked up she saw the full face of the moon turning yellow, and in the center rotated a black star. "What's happening?" she exclaimed.
"He's coming," Gaara said roughly.
"The Shukaku?"
It was him. He appeared as a sinkhole first, sucking in the debris from the village like a giant whirpool; the limestone, clay, metals, bricks, all of it grinding to sand, feeding the creature rising up out of the ground. It was the ground. Absolutely massive, absolutely terrifying, it towered into the sky, roaring with triumphant laughter. It turned around slowly, spotting them standing on the one remaining building. "You brought a friend with you this time!" he cried. "Well c'mere, cutie! I got a surprise for you!"
"Wh-what?" She couldn't manage anything more over the terror and bewilderment. This was the Shukaku? Gaara shocked her further by blocking its path, thrusting his little arms out on either side of him as if to shield her.
"Run," he told her.
"Gaara-san!"
"I should be enough for him. It's no use trying to fight. He controls everything here."
"But it's your world!" Gaara's head snapped up. He did not look at her, but she felt his surprise. The Shukaku crashed through the sand to get to them, mouth open wide and laughing. In a blind maneuver Hinata snatched Gaara into her arms and ran.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
Rational thought had nothing to do with it. It was the need to survive that drove her, the need to protect this child. Even if it meant being consumed by a sand spirit, it simply wasn't in her nature to abandon people. As the sky and ground disappeared and darkness closed over them, she thought of Sasuke.
Sasuke-kun . . . Worse than fearing for her life, she felt for his. She did not want him to avenge her, were she to die. It would ruin him. But despite all that, she knew he was not alone. He had Naruto. She had not fallen in love with him for nothing. Like her, he did not abandon people and he certainly would not abandon Sasuke.
If she died, he would be okay. He would.
Wouldn't he?