Pawns
It is all we are, all we ever thought we would be. My own father only views his children as nothing more than fine shinobi, as something used for war.
He sent us off to the Chuunin exam, knowing we would be put in mortal danger. It was all part of his plot, his deal with the snake man. He would use his own children that way, as pawns on a chessboard.
Somehow, this made me proud. He had enough faith in us – Gaara, Kankurou, and I – to entrust us with this mission.
But something told me that no loving father would make his children do that. No father would attack an allied nation, using his children as the scapegoats. We were only children.
He never loved me. I was something of a disappointment for a first child. I was strong, yes, but not what he wanted.
He never loved Kankurou. Kankurou amused him at first, but with age the Kazekage lost interest. A puppet master was not the ultimate ninja he needed. He needed someone with abilities that were so unique, so earthshattering, that the ninja was undefeatable.
In some twisted way, I think he loved Gaara. Not in the way that a child should be loved, but a love that is fueled by one's own selfishness.
I remember when our mother was pregnant. I was only a toddler at the time, but I remember it well. Our mother would often cry, often snap at us. She would not speak to our father.
She died in childbirth. That is what they told me. I cried.
When I was much older, I discovered that she died to feed the Kazekage's insatiable thirst for the ultimate shinobi. She was sacrificed to seal the demon into my baby brother, her child.
I did not blame her for her anger before his birth.
Mother, I think, did not want to love Gaara. But she did. Her hate was merely misdirected; she hated the Kazekage for sealing both her and her baby's fate.
The sand is her way of spitting in the Kazekage's face. It is also a way of protecting little Gaara, her youngest child.
Gaara vowed to love no one but himself. He said he did not view me as his sister, nor Kankurou as his brother.
I didn't want to believe it.
He hated the Kazekage with half of his heart.
That heart was breaking during his match with Uchiha Sasuke. He could not even be what the Kazekage wanted him to be - undefeatable. He was nothing.
After several assasination attempts, you'd think you wouldn't love someone anymore.
Gaara both hated and loved at the same time.
Despite the way Gaara treated Kankurou and I - like we were dirt - I always thought he cared. But maybe that was just me being sentimental.
I know we always cared about him. We did not like to see him kill so ruthlessly. We did not want him to die during the Chuunin exams; he is precious to us. We risked our lives to get him out of there safely.
We were not going to let our baby brother fall alone.
That boy, Uzumaki Naruto, changed him for the better. Truly, I owe him with my life.
He saved my baby brother from his own darkness, his own suffering. Because of Uzumaki Naruto, my brother is no longer a monster.
Gaara knows now that we love him. He is loved.
He is Kazekage now.
I could feel my blood burning when the Suna council said they would let him die, when they indicated that he hadn't earned the title of Kazekage.
That they still thought of him as a monster, after all of the sacrifices he had made and all of the effort he'd put forth into changing himself.
He had sacrified himself for the village, and this was the thanks that he received?
He came home. He was alive. It was a miracle… He was a hero. A hero! The village loved him. My brother had gone against his own fate to be nothing but a beast.
This proves to me that we are more than just pawns.
