Unforgiven
Karasu no Tsukomi
A/N: METALLICA! Sorry, weirdo moment there!
Anywho . . . this is a fic dedicated to Gaara-sama and his inner raccoon deamon Shukaku. It starts from when he's very young, probably around . . . hm, I have to think! . . . Uh, let's say seven years to uh . . . hoo aboot mid-twenties. Now, it is the beginning.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any Metallica songs . . . unfortunately
Beware: sadness
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They never looked at me like I was a real person, just some horrible deamon that was only LUCKY to be here. The one boy who killed the most loved medical nin in Sand just by being born.
My left hand gripped the rusted chain supporting the wooden swing that I'm sitting on, while my right is half strangling my stuffed brown bear. Confused thoughts are filling my mind after just being told of the raccoon deamon inside my body, my soul and my mind.
"Shukaku . . ." I hissed to myself under my breath. The thing inside me has a name, meaning . . . am I still the same person?
New blood joins this earth
And quickly he's subdued
Through constant pained disgrace
The young boy learns their rules
"Of course I am." I whispered. My face fell as I picked up my bear and looked into its dull, lifeless black eyes. "Right?"
Its silence enraged me. It was the one and only thing that I could count on, and now it wouldn't comfort me like it used to. It wouldn't tell me that everything was alright. It had turned its back on me just like everyone else.
My internal rage tore out of me as I ripped the bear to shreds, leaving the over stuffed head for last. Imagining the terrified screams and horrified fear in its black eyes; savoring the feel of its death in my hands.
Again I had let someone get close to me, only to have them turn on me in the end. Again I had let the rage consume me and destroy the one that I had once loved, the one that I had thought loved me back.
I threw the shredded bear at my feet and kicked sand on the remains. I turned back to the town in a seemingly calm mood. Only, when the first person crossed my path and looked down at me with pure hatred: a stare that I have come to know all to well over the past several years, did I show my true feelings.
Sand swarmed up around me and struck at the person. As he screamed, I could only feel the pleasure of a sadistic, homicidal maniac. As my eyes set on the bloody carcass of the seemingly "innocent" bystander, I only craved more. My sand flew through the village and viciously attacked anyone that stood in the way.
Once it calmed, I walked through the street and soaked in the delicious smell of fresh blood, and the satisfying scream emitting from a luckier victim.
Within minutes the Kazekage appeared before me with several Jonin by his side. Somehow they got past the sand that cared for me more than anything, and knocked me out.
Only twelve years old and I am already the most dangerous Genin. Never once had I been scratched, or even touched by anyone.
The Kazekage was using me as a weapon, and I knew it too. He had trained me over the last years, me beating him within two years, though he wouldn't admit it.
I summoned my sand back to me and savored the sight of the man in front of me, whom I had just mangled into a pile of flesh, bone and blood. I inhaled the scent of the blood, tasting the sweetness it left in my mouth.
"Gaara-sama . . ." Temari said quietly. Both she and Kankuro had kept their eyes shut while I attacked my helpless prey. I ignored her and continued my relish of murder.
"Brother . . ." she tried. This had always annoyed me when they tried to call me their brother when I only saw them as eventual prey that was fun to play with while it was still alive. I turned on her and she flinched.
"I never thought of either of you as my siblings." I sneered at her fear and headed back toward the village. I then noticed that Kankuro was walking close to my side.
"Gaara-san, do you always have to be so violent?"
"The Kazekage informed us to kill him, I did just that."
"Kill him, not butcher."
"Shut up or I'll kill you, Kankuro."
That has always been a good thing about actually doing what the Kazekage asks, it's always to kill somebody. He knows that that itself will keep me under control, but it won't always work.
With time the child draws in
This whipping boy done wrong
Deprived of all his thoughts
The young man struggles on and on he's known
A vow unto his own
That never from this day
His will they'll take away
The rooftop is one of my favored places for my nights. The peace is disturbingly pleasurable and the darkness seems to soothe me. No one knows that this is how I spend my nights with my forced insomnia.
This is the place where I think. The place where I remember all of those nights my father would come home and beat me. This is the place where I wonder if anyone knows how I have lived my life, of how it feels and also of how I feel.
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never be
Never see
Won't see what might have been
This is the place where I wonder what would have happened if my mother hadn't died. What would have happened if Shukaku was never sealed inside of me? What would have happened if I had never lost control? Why did and why would the people of my village torture me so?
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never free
Never me
So I dub thee unforgiven
Eighteen and I am now Kazekage, though it's my village that seems to be the one controlling me. I have created a mask to hide behind, a new being to call my own, and one that does not show who I really am. I suppose I did it to please my people, to give them a feeling of protection, even if they have never done such a thing for me and never will.
They dedicate their lives
To running all of his
He tries to please them all
This bitter man he is
Throughout his life the same
I seem to be in a never ending war against my own feelings and those of the people I must protect. A war against the person that I want to be and know I am, and the murderous deamon inside of me. Somehow, I know that I will not win.
He's battled constantly
This fight he cannot win
People consider me young, but at twenty-six, I couldn't feel much older. I haven't eaten in days for fear that the smell of cooking meat will set off Shukaku again. He is restless, making me feel the same. It has been months now since I have smelled fresh blood. It makes me itch to kill the first person I meet. I try to hold it back and take it out on my house. Every scroll is ripped to shreds, walls have chunks missing out of them and I have only the clothes on my back right now left.
I am tired of my life. I have no reason to carry on. Temari has already seen that I no longer care, she can become the new Kazekage and I will retreat to the forest. Its tall pines can protect the village while I let Shukaku out.
A tired man they see no longer cares
The man then prepares
To die regretfully
That man here is me
I crouch down and pull out my ivory kunai. I slice it across my arm and immerse myself in the sweet smell of my blood.
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never be
Never see
Won't see what might have been
I release a snarl as I feel the overwhelming power of the raccoon as it started to surface. I dig the kunai deeper into my wrist, wallowing in the pain that it brings, pain that is no match to what my life has been.
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never free
Never be
So I dub thee unforgiven
I know that when I slipped into the darkness of death, I have a smile on my face. I am now free.
You labeled me
I'll label you
So I dub thee unforgiven
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A/N: Tearjerker! Well, at least I ALMOST cried. I probably will when I read it again out loud. I do know that this fic is awesome and I'd like to thank my mom for saying that The Unforgiven is Gaara's song, and of course (the most important) METALLICA! I'm gonna go cry now. --o
Luv ya!-
Karasu no Tsukomi