Okay, I lied. This is not a one-shot, as I had intended. The more I thought about it, the more appealing the idea of additional chapters became, and…there you have it.
Two: Identity
Darkness. Everywhere he looked, he could not escape the oppressive, unyielding darkness. He remembered light, though just barely, a small fragment of recollection encapsulated beyond reach. He had stood in the light before, he knew, deep in the area where his heart should be. He felt the warmth of the sun on his skin, the brightness of rays so intense to be almost blinding.
Where did that light go? Perhaps if he stretched out his hand, he would find it…
Hand. An extension of the creature that was himself. He had the power to make it move, to wiggle each of the long digits attached to the base—fingers, they were called. Bundles of nerve endings designed to feel things, and transmit sensation to the brain.
But here, in this place, wherever it was, his fingers did not encounter anything but empty air. Open space. An unending void that had claimed him as its own, and slowly absorbed all of his cells into itself, his identity…
And who was he? He had a name, a name once associated with fear, death, blood, now redefined as a name to be spoken with respect, trust.
Sabaku no Gaara, Kazekage of the Sand.
Yes, that was it.
"Gaara," he formed the name on his dry, cracked lips. "Me."
Memory flooded over the gates that had barred it, a violent monsoon crashing through his consciousness, bombarding him with images, sounds…
Feeling.
He was a little boy again, clinging tightly to a battered teddy bear, the only friend he had who did not look at him with fear reflected in its tiny, black button eyes. Even as a child so young, he understood that the bear only tolerated him because it wasn't alive; it couldn't be afraid of the way sand swirled around him like a cyclone when he was upset or angry, of the murderous, rage-filled voice in his head, telling him to do things, horrible things that a little boy should never think about, yet he did them because he could not stop himself until it was too late.
The village children whispered about him when they believed he could not hear, but he did hear, every single word, each one a dagger through his chest. Father remained aloof, a cold, emotionless statue as he observed his youngest child's 'training,' his dark eyes two hard stones while his tool of destruction, his own flesh and blood, took shape. Temari and Kankurou, his brother and sister, spent much of their time with Father, and when they did spare a moment to speak with their brother, their words were meaningless, empty phrases blurted in a hurry to escape from him; even they feared what he was becoming.
Mother died after his birth, so Gaara never knew her, but he had seen her picture in a small, white frame on Uncle's desk. She had a warm, loving face, and she smiled, though her smile contained all the sadness of the world, and Gaara loved her. He even persuaded himself that she must have loved him, too. Uncle, Mother's brother, told him stories about her, and comforted him when he cried or when the voice in his head frightened him…
And then everything fell apart.
Uncle, caring, sympathetic Uncle, who showed nothing but kindness to him before, lashed out in hatred by making an attempt on his life, and Gaara would be forever reminded of the betrayal by the kanji burned in blood on his forehead.
Love.
The last vestiges of his humanity were laid to rest that day. If this was what love was, to put so much faith in another person, to trust that person beyond any question of a doubt only to be stabbed in the back soon after, he wanted no part of it. He did not need to be human, not anymore. The world had rejected him; he would do the same.
Instead of continuing to fear that voice, he listened to it, allowed its lust for blood to become his own. He did nothing to dispel the illusion of control kept by the piece of meat that spawned him, but willingly unleashed the rage when ordered, and sometimes of his own accord. What did it matter, anyway, since he knew that he was the author of his own destiny? Father fancied himself a master manipulator; arrogance blinded him to the fact that his weapon held the strings, could turn on him at any moment.
Once a fool, always a fool.
As the years passed and Gaara grew older, he discovered that he enjoyed a good kill. Seeing faces twisted in terror, hearing the pleas and screams of his victims before they died became his aphrodisiac. All aspects of the hunt excited him, gave him a reason for his existence. Mother took pleasure in his bloody exploits as well, it would seem; her hatred composed of the sand that traveled with him wherever he went in the gourd strapped to his back reacted quite strongly during a slaughter, pulsing with ravenous hunger for more and more and more…
Sabaku Kyuu was his favorite exclusive jutsu. Chakra-imbued sand trapped the prey—all but the face—in a coffin-like cocoon suspended a few feet in the air; when he closed his fist, the coffin burst apart like a popped balloon, and the sky rained gore. The victim perished instantly, of course—was he not merciful? Those who died by his hand only did so because they lacked the strength to defeat him, and therefore must be put out of their misery. In this world, the fittest survived, and the weak became extinct. Gaara could have tortured them, drawn out the suffering until he tired of it, however he chose not to. The game of cat and mouse he saved for the select few who pushed his limits, managed to crack the natural barrier of sand that shielded him. The others were disposed of quickly, painlessly.
How ironic that he showed more mercy than Father, the Kazekage, who spared no hesitation to give an order for a massacre, employing his beloved tool to rend and tear his way through the opposition, no matter what it consisted of.
Temari and Kankurou emerged from Father's shadow when Gaara turned twelve, and the three siblings of the Sand became a team, so to speak, under their 'sensei,' Baki. Gaara resented the presence of his brother and sister, no more family to him than Father. Had they been ordered to keep an eye on him? Did Father believe that they could quell the wrath and the fury that turned him into a mindless, ravening beast more frequently now than ever before?
You are the ones who did this to me, he told them in his mind. You are the ones who decided I'm not human. I'm the perfect weapon, aren't I? No heart beats in my chest, no soul dictates my actions. A killing machine without remorse. That's what you wanted, isn't it? You needed the power, not the creature that comes with it. As long as you believed I could be contained, everything was fine. But you've realized that I won't follow your agenda, and now you pretend like you care. Now you try to be my family. Don't you see? You should have loved me from the beginning. You should have accepted me as one of your own, and because you didn't, I know how empty your affection is, how worthless.
"How are you feeling today, Gaara?" Temari would inquire in the voice she imagined belonged to a concerned older sister.
Kankurou usually came up with a joke in response, though his bantering tone didn't fool anyone. "Probably homicidal, as usual."
There were occasions in which Gaara would gratify such a statement with a reply; other times he remained silent, though his silence was never calm. The sand in his gourd was synchronized with his moods, and grains of it seemed to radiate from his skin like dry heat, which had the desired effect: no more chatter.
As a team, they really did not fight together, but individually, each with his—or her—own special skill. Temari influenced the wind with her deadly, beautiful fan; Kankurou animated Karasu, a puppet specifically designed for combat; Gaara utilized his sand. Despite the lack of teamwork, the trio made themselves into a force to be reckoned with, garnering a reputation of ferocity in battle. It came as no surprise when they were sent to Konoha to participate in the Chuunin Exam, an event held every two years that lured hopefuls from all neighboring villages to try their luck against their fellows.
Gaara did not know his life would be changed forever the day he set foot onto Konoha's soil, did not understand that the irritating boy with the blond hair who yearned for attention would be the person who did what all the others could not.
Uzumaki Naruto showed him his lost humanity.
Naruto…Do you remember me? I remember you…you saved me…you let me see who I wanted to become…
Another memory, more recent. Shortly after the battle he and Lee fought against Kimimaro, the underling of Orochimaru who used his own bones as weapons…
The two sat together overlooking the vast expanse of desert, the sun shining brightly upon them. Kankurou exchanged his normal attire for a plain shirt and pants rolled up to the shin, his face clear of the purple paint he applied each morning and head free of the black, cat-eared hood that was his trademark. Gaara also dressed casually in maroon shirt and pants, gourd by his side. The two resembled each other in the way their legs were sprawled before them, the way they supported their weight on their forearms, the way their hair stuck out at the same angles.
Brothers.
"I've been thinking…about the future, about what I'm going to do with myself for the rest of my life…"
"Oh yeah? Come up with something good?"
"Well…maybe. I think so."
Kankurou raised his eyebrows. Leave it to Gaara to be frustratingly vague. "And? I'm dying of curiosity, here."
The younger snorted, a gesture so human that it surprised both of them. "I'm still getting used to this 'bearing of the soul' thing, so you'll have to go easy on me."
Examining his brother's face, Kankurou decided that it was okay to smile, so he did. "Yeah, yeah, but you should know that leaving an impatient person like me hanging is a cruel form of torture, and I believe we're past that stage."
"Are we?"
"I'd sure as hell hope so, or I'm gonna be hurting tonight."
This time, Gaara actually laughed, and it sounded… strange in his ears. Like the bark of a dog. He'd have to work on that. "We are past that stage," he admitted, then shook his head ruefully. "Oh, all right. I'll tell you. But…I have a lot of…baggage to get rid of."
His brother flung out an arm. "Concierge, at your service. Just talk, Gaara. Please." He added when the other showed hesitation.
Gaara realized he had boxed himself in a corner, and had no choice but to speak now. In all honesty, though, he wanted to. "Uzumaki Naruto…you remember him, don't you?" Kankurou nodded. "He suffered the same way I did…he was shunned as a child because of the demon inside of him, he had to wander through the world alone, just like me. He understood what it felt like…and yet when he found people to devote himself to, people to fight for, he became stronger, forged his own path beyond the curse he was born with. His pain and the bonds he created from it became his strength. I tried so hard to figure out why he was so confident, why he claimed that his power outstripped mine, and the answer was right in front of me the whole time. Those people…his friends.
"I had no friends, Kankurou. No family. I fought only for myself, and I was lonely. I was lonely when I didn't have to be. You were there. And Temari. I know that you cared; I just couldn't see it then. I was so obsessed with my own pain that I convinced myself no one would ever relate to it. And it was true, in a different way. No one could relate, because I didn't let them. I didn't let anyone in…and then Naruto found a way. I don't know how, but he opened my heart. He made me want to change, to…be more like him. To have people depend on me, and…be able to depend on them. Does that make sense?"
"Perfect sense," Kankurou replied, a slight warble in his voice. He coughed a bit to clear his throat, and his brother appeared relieved.
"Oh, good. I'm still trying to figure out if it makes sense to me."
They shared another laugh, and this time Gaara found it much easier.
"So, what do you plan to do with this newfound identity?" his brother asked, the old sarcasm unable to stay away for too long despite the seriousness of the moment.
"Since the position of Kazekage has been…vacated…I'd like to take it." He lowered his head, "As penance for all that I've done."
Kankurou was silent for awhile.
"Kazekage, huh?" He whistled finally, masking his shock. "Those are some pretty big shoes to fill."
Gaara's mouth quirked. "Yes, they are." He held his brother's eyes with his own. "Will you fear me then?"
The question was addressed to Kankurou, however another, much deeper question lie beneath it. 'Will the villagers accept me, or will they only find a bloodstained murderer when they look at me?' The older boy chewed thoughtfully at his lip. Since when had he and his baby brother talked to each other like this, no barrier to separate them? "No. I won't fear you. I'll serve you as one of your shinobi." He paused. "It'll be an honor."
The burning sensation in Gaara's eyes told him that he had not lost the ability to cry, and he blinked rapidly to keep his emotions in check, though he was not quick enough to prevent a few tears from trailing down his cheeks.
"Thank you," he whispered, "for being my brother."
Kankurou closed his eyes, battling his own emotions, and then gave Gaara a one-armed hug around his head, as if they had been close forever. "Don't be stupid. This is what families are for, though I suppose you missed out on that bandwagon. Kami help us, we've got a lot to teach you, shrimp."
The darkness had not gone away. It was all around him still, a cloak of impenetrable, suffocating thickness. How long would he remain shrouded from the light?
It's happening.
That voice…the voice of the demon. Shukaku. The demon sealed beneath his navel. But…something was different.
They're trying to take me away.
Akatsuki…the organization that attacked his village, searching for him…It all came back to the tanuki, to Shukaku, to that colossal power…
Just like before…
Before? So Gaara was not the only vessel…and the same thing that was happening to him—to them—had happened to the others. Were they lost in this darkness as well?
Shukaku…where are you? I can't see you…I can't see anything…
And then his world faded.
Who is calling me? Where is this?
Shukaku looked down at the body he now possessed. He examined his hand, palm up, fingers curled.
Whose hand is this? Mine? My hand?
Something below caught his eye. There was another body floating there. Identical.
What? Is that…me? Yes…yes it is. That's the me that wanted to feel needed. But why? I never felt these things before…Or did I? I don't remember…I can't remember the past anymore.
The other self fascinated him.
Those eyes, that nose, that mouth…Gaara. I've been inside of him, sharing his consciousness…no, what am I in the first place, then? Why don't I exist on my own? I'm nothing but a small…
…sensation…
They weren't moving fast enough.
Naruto could sense Gaara's chakra, and it was growing weaker. Soon, it would be gone entirely, and he wasn't about to stand for that.
Gotta speed up.
"Naruto, wait!" Sakura cried behind him as he rocketed ahead, though he pushed her voice to the back of his mind. At any other time, he'd be more than happy to allow her to distract him, but not now. Akatsuki wouldn't wait, and so he couldn't either.
Damn it, Gaara, don't you dare die before I can reach you…
Wind whipped his hair from his face as he ran; his feet pounded against the earth as they carried him closer to his destination; his vision narrowed to that spot in the distance where his one-time enemy, his fellow Jinchuuriki…his friend…was being held.
And all he could think about was how alone Gaara must feel.
His whole life he never had anyone to fight for him, just like Naruto. But where Gaara failed, Naruto succeeded. His tiny circle beginning with Iruka grew by leaps and bounds, until he had a full network of support, and he knew that he would never be lonely again. The Kazekage, on the other hand, had experienced none of that. He had no reason to think someone would come to his aid, even after he claimed the title of the most honored shinobi of his village. That was not to say that his brother and sister, or even the villagers themselves didn't care—many of them did.
But the doubt lingered, and that was the hardest thing to shake. Every now and then Naruto wondered if he were living in a dream, and that if he woke up, the years he had spent learning and laughing and growing would only be a fantasy. It had taken time to get to the point in which looking at his friends was all he needed to do to confirm that his reality was real, however he started practicing early. Gaara existed without hope of true companionship for much longer than Naruto; his doubt was more profound, and would not be so easily vanquished.
The blonde boy had every intention of changing that.
I'm your friend, and I'll fight for you no matter how dangerous it is. Don't let go. You've got so much of your life left to live. Don't let go! There is a place for you in this world, and people who need you. I'm almost there. Hold on!
The landscape altered, and the terrain became rockier, forcing Naruto to abandon such thoughts and focus on the path ahead of him. From the sound of pebbles tumbling downhill nearby, Naruto could tell that Sakura picked up her pace to stay close to him, and that, in a strange way, was comforting. He liked the idea of having her near, especially now. The strength he had in abundance by himself increased with her presence, gave him an extra push in the right direction.
I'll tell you how much you mean to me someday, Sakura-chan, I promise. Once I make myself into the man worthy of your love, I'll tell you all of my secrets. When I'm less of a coward, you'll know all there is to know about me. Until then, I'll be content with your footsteps next to mine…
"This way!" He called to her over his shoulder. "Follow me!"
Sakura's eyes had since begun to water as the wind slammed against her due to the brisk pace Naruto set, though she had to tolerate it if she wanted to keep up. Boulder after boulder passed beneath her feet; she used the sturdiest to provide a trail as she jumped from one to another, the back of Naruto's very blonde head always in her line of sight.
Gaara…Naruto…alike and unalike…You have a bond with him, don't you, Naruto? Two Jinchuuriki, two targets of an organization bent on becoming the masters of your Bijuu…Kyuubi and Shukaku. You've made him a brother of your heart, and when his heart is breaking, you feel it, too.
A tree branch fast approached; she swiped it aside, earning a slash over her knuckles. Wincing, she continued on. The cut wasn't vital enough to pause for.
Oh, Naruto…what'll you do if he doesn't survive? You've put on a brave face and acted like you have everything under control, but I know how vulnerable you are now. You haven't stopped blaming yourself for his...it was difficult to say the name…for Sasuke's betrayal, as irrational as that may be. One more failure could break you…
As soon as she thought that, she was ashamed.
No. Haven't you proved your worth already? You were made to endure, Naruto. I have no right to doubt you anymore. You never doubted me…
Tsunade said to believe, so I will.
"I believe."
Her soft murmur was spirited away by the wind.
Though he knew he shouldn't be, Kakashi was preoccupied. Oh, he was well aware of the urgency of this mission, and he took it just as seriously as Naruto did, but…a lot of old feelings had been resurrected the night before, during his conversation with Chiyo, and he was having quite a time of shoving them back to a little-used corner of his mind.
"What are you doing up, Chiyo-sama? I'll keep watch. You should get some sleep."
The old woman looked at him, amusement in her lined, brown eyes. "Sama? You needn't bother with honorifics, Kakashi. Just Chiyo is fine. And I am more than capable of going without a little sleep, thank you. I'm not in my grave yet."
Kakashi's brows shot up, and then he smiled beneath his mask, taking a seat next to her by the fire. "I've been justly rebuked," he concurred cheerfully. "Mind if I sit up with you, then? I'd feel weird if I zonked out while you were awake."
It was Chiyo's turn to raise her brows. "In other words, you still think I'm too old to handle this myself."
"Well..." The silvery-haired man lifted his hands in a defeated shrug. "I can't help that my mother raised me with morals."
Chiyo shook her head, a hint of a grin tugging at her mouth. "So she taught you all decrepit crones are in need of babysitters?"
"Something like that."
The Elder of the Sand laughed out loud. "You're a good boy, Kakashi. Do as you wish."
Boy? Cripes…the way she says it makes me feel like I'm six again… "Thanks. And I believe I will."
"Good," Chiyo replied, watching the flames of the fire dance for a moment, and then returning her attention to her companion. The way she stared at him so intently made him a bit uncomfortable, as if he were stripped bare before her while she peeled back the layers of his skin to see into his very soul. "I know that you are not the White Fang, Kakashi, but your resemblance to him is uncanny…too much to attribute to mere coincidence."
He fidgeted with a blade of grass pinched between two fingers, unsure of what to say. This subject had always been a sore spot, and he tried to steer clear of it as often as possible. I should have known my aversion would come and bite me in the ass someday. You'd laugh if you were here, Obito. You'd say I deserve this for being a lazy bum who takes the easy way out of dealing with his problems. "I suppose that makes sense, since he was my father." That wasn't so bad…
"Ah," said Chiyo knowingly, like she had expected such an answer. Her ears were as sharp as they'd been when she was a girl, so she did not fail to note that Kakashi used 'was,' not 'is,' to describe his relation to Hatake Sakumo. But she would ask about that later. "Let me see underneath your mask, boy."
If it were any other person, he would have blurted some nonsensical excuse and changed the topic. Chiyo, however, had her own breed of power that left him no option but to indulge her, grasping the edge of the mask and drawing it down to reveal nose, mouth, and chin.
"My, what a handsome face." Her voice had a jovial lilt that reminded him of the wharves where the uneducated speech of fishermen sounded like music, and he had to smile.
"Nah. You're just toying with my delicate ego."
The woman cackled. "Hardly delicate. Why on earth do you wear that silly thing?"
"Habit, mostly," he replied, absently rubbing his chin. The pads of his fingers encountered a rough patch of stubble, and he sighed. I've gotta shave… "And…I guess because I don't want to be branded as 'the White Fang's Son' forever. No…didn't," he amended himself. "It was a much bigger deal when I was an arrogant little ass of a kid." And you fixed that, Obito. "In the end, I managed to earn myself a reputation apart from Dad's just fine, anyway, mask or no mask." Yeah. Haven't killed myself yet...
He made an unpleasant realization with that thought.
After all these years, I'm still bitter. I still think he should've made an effort to go on, even if he was disgraced. He had me. He had Ma, and she died of grief, a withered doll.
Chiyo immediately sensed something amiss from the subtle change in his tone and expressions. His face was one that had known pain in the past, deep, scarring pain, yet managed to conceal the evidence after becoming prone to good humor. Now, she glimpsed shadows of that pain restored on the surface.
"I see I've opened wounds that should have remained closed," she placed one of her weathered hands over his. "Forgive me."
"No, no, don't apologize," Kakashi insisted, banishing his self-pity to a place he wouldn't find it so easily again. Grow the hell up, Hatake. You've got a great life, and you know it. "I've never been able to come to terms with what happened, and it's my fault. I shouldn't have refused to talk about it." He paused, closed his visible eye. "My father…my father took his own life. Years ago. I was at that stage when my values were open to influence, when I was figuring out who I was and what I wanted to fight for, and when my father, the person I worshipped and adored, the person I believed could do no wrong…when he cracked and decided life wasn't worth living anymore…a part of me died with him. I became so…rigid, completely bent on following the rules to the letter.
"You see, before he died, my father was dishonored. He abandoned a mission to save his companions, and some of our people were lost as a result. Everyone accused him, even the friends he saved…He broke the rules, and he paid for the infraction. I wouldn't make the same mistake, that's what I told myself. I'd be the best damned shinobi there ever was." Ironic laughter. "But I was wrong. I was too rigid, and my best friend's name is carved on the Memorial Stone in front of our village because of it. He gave me this sharingan as a gift," Kakashi lifted his forehead protector to reveal his other eye, marred by a thin scar that cut a track from eyebrow to cheek, "so that I…could see the future for him." He tapered off, unable to speak further, and Chiyo did not ask him to. She had learned all she needed to know about him in these few moments.
"You are a good boy, Kakashi," she confirmed softly. "And your father was a good man, for all that he was the enemy of my son. I despised him, of course, but that is only natural." The silvery-haired man made an indelicate noise, and she grinned. "I do like you, though. Your friend's sacrifice has not gone to waste."
Have I acted the way you'd want me to, Obito? Are you proud of me? Is the future I've seen enough?
"I hope you're right. With all my heart, I hope you're right."
"Kakashi?"
He came back to the present, wind against his face, traveling alongside Chiyo while Naruto and Sakura scouted on ahead. He did not know how long the Elder had been speaking.
"Sorry. Just spaced out for a bit."
He followed her gaze to his former student, a boy who had started off with little talent, though his immense will to succeed more than made up for it. Now, three years of hardship later, he had the potential to be the best of all of them, he who had once been the least. A diamond in the rough, ready to be polished to perfection…That was Uzumaki Naruto.
He waited for Chiyo to speak the question in her eyes.
"Why does that boy try so hard to help Gaara, when he is a member of another village?" She paused. "And…what is he, exactly?"
So she didn't guess…
"He's a Jinchuuriki like Gaara, sealed with the Kyuubi, no less. Granted, Naruto has no reason to have an attachment to Suna…and, when you get down to it, it's really Gaara-kun he has a connection with. More than anybody in Suna, Naruto understands what Gaara is going through, because he went through it, too. Jinchuuriki suffer the same treatment no matter which village they belong to, whether Konoha or Suna, and that sort of thing has never made any difference to Naruto. In his eyes, Gaara-kun is a friend who knows the same pain as him."
Chiyo's expression was thoughtful, though she remained silent.
Kakashi continued.
"Naruto's dream is to become Hokage, so when he found out that Gaara had become Kazekage, he was frustrated…but at the same time, from the bottom of his heart, he was happy. You know, Naruto has this mysterious power…he doesn't have to talk to a person for very long before he makes them his friend. Must be part of the reason why he has compassion for his enemies…well, most of them, anyway."
"I'm old," Chiyo finally responded. "I've seen many things, and I've learned the truth of the world to some degree…and it made me a cynic. Once I understood that alliances between villages existed in name only, I devised a way to protect Sunagakure, or so I believed." Her voice became quieter. "I was the one who used a jutsu on Gaara, to seal Shukaku within him. It was a mistake. Instead of protecting the village, I hurt it, and now the country we avoided due to lack of faith is trying to help. What does that say about us, Kakashi?" She sighed, watching Sakura's back as the girl glided through the air. "Youth…I had that once, and I envy those who have it now. My potential is wasted."
"Hush," Kakashi chided. "You've got enough energy to chase after a bunch of pups like us, so you can't be that old."
In spite of herself, the woman chortled. "True, true. Who knows? Maybe a hag like me has a few tricks left up her sleeve. I might still have something to offer." I may redeem myself yet…and then perhaps you'll forgive me for what I've done to you, Gaara.
Kakashi faced forward once again, their destination looming ever closer. We all have our own demons, don't we, Obito? Even you had them. The difference is that ours aren't physically part of ourselves…aren't Bijuu…so they can't be torn out. They can't leave a raw, gaping hole behind. If we lose our demons, we won't die.
Obito, watch for me. Let us make it…Please…
Gai's team arrived a few minutes ahead of Kakashi's, and they stood before an immense cavern that had been sealed shut, two large pillars like sentinels on either side of the opening.
"Gaara's behind that boulder," Pakkun, one of Kakashi's special nin-dogs told Lee as he perched on the boy's shoulder.
Neji formed a seal quickly. "Byakugan!" Veins gathered at the corners of his activated eyes, eyes that penetrated the stone to show him what lie beyond the blocked entryway.
"What do you see, Neji?" His teammate Tenten inquired.
"I…" What the hell is that?
"Neji, what's going on in there?" Lee prodded.
"It's…hard to explain with words." This is bad…
Before anyone else could speak, Gai, face unreadable, ran at the wall and smashed his fist against it, resulting in a huge outward explosion of pressure. The fist hadn't even touched the stone, but was warded off by a swirling shield of pure power.
"A barrier, huh?" He observed grimly. "I'm not surprised."
"Damn it," Lee swore to himself. Out loud, he called, "What should we do?"
His sensei turned to look at his prodigal student. "First things first, we have to remove this barrier, Lee!"
"How?" said Tenten, exasperated. "We don't even know what kind of shield—"
"That's a Gofuu Kekkai, if I've ever seen one."
They all looked around at once.
"You're late, Kakashi," Gai said with a smirk.
The silvery-haired man waved that off. "Nah. We just ran into a bit of trouble on the way."
"Naruto-kun! Sakura-san!" exclaimed Lee as his friends emerged.
"Hey!" Naruto shouted back. His eyes traveled to the boulder, and he bared his teeth. Gaara…I'm here…I can still sense you, though it's just a faint nudge…I'm gonna get you out, I swear it.
Sakura spared one sidelong glance at Naruto before she commented, "You were all here a little faster, huh?" This is it. This is where it counts. Naruto…I'm not leaving your side until this is over, and I don't care if you protest. You need someone like me to keep you focused. She did not know why she decided this all of a sudden, only that it felt…right. Like he really did need her as a balancing force to make sure his passionate rage didn't override his reason. And, even more surprising…she wanted it that way.
What on earth was happening to her?
Don't worry about it now. Later.
"Think we can break this sucker?" Gai was asking Kakashi when her attention returned to the present.
"No," Kakashi replied without hesitation. "We've got no choice. Whether we can or not isn't relevant anymore."
Ruffled only slightly, Gai shook his head. "Well then, let's do this!"
Here we go, thought Sakura, resting a hand on Naruto's tense shoulder. "It'll be all right," she whispered for his ears alone.
He looked at her as if he were lost, and then looked at her hand. The muscle beneath her fingers relaxed for a moment. "Do you think so?" It was not so much a question as a need for affirmation, and her heart ached for him.
"I know so," she said firmly, determined to act as the anchor this time, after all the times Naruto had been one for her.
She wasn't sure the mission would succeed, but she could pretend.
God help me if I'm wrong.
Gofuu Kekkai-Five-Part Seal
Looks like this may become a rather…colossal undertaking. I'm already planning a third chapter, so who knows how many more will follow? I've just been somewhat unsatisfied with the lack of character insight, so I decided to supply it myself. I like to know what a character thinks while he or she is going through an ordeal. Well, that, and I'm incredibly nosy. Heh. Well, whatever. I'm babbling now. Hopefully I've remained faithful to the original story, since that is my intent—with a twist, of course.
See ya next chapter! (I've always wanted to say that…I'm such a nerd).
