For hours, he would stare into the sky. He would stand atop the Kazekage tower, head tipped up towards the stars of heaven. There, the young Kazekage would wonder, why am I still here? What purpose have I ever served to the world? He wondered because he was nothing but a monster. In the early years of his life, his only reason to continue breathing was to kill. To murder was his only purpose in life. Not even his siblings truly loved him. He struck fear into the hearts of his only family members. To his father, he was nothing. Nothing but an uncontrollable weapon. "When have I ever been worth the air I breathe?" he asks the sky. The sky held the heavens, and the heavens held his mother prisoner. "I've been a monster since the day I was born." Tipping his head to the ground, Gaara whispers, "I may be Kazekage, but I am a waste of space." The title of Kazekage was not a blessing, but a curse. The villagers would cheer for whoever held the title. Kankuro would be worshiped too, if he were to become Kazekage. As would Temari. It's saddening, how such an honorable title could drag someone as strong as Gaara down to the depths of suicide. No, he would not commit suicide, but if the opportunity to die were to arise, he would greet death as he would an old friend. He would not only accept his fate, but he would embrace it. Suicide was not an appealing thought; if he were to succumb to his thoughts of death, he would be seen as cowardly, and Gaara was no coward. Not a coward, but a monster, and a waste of space.
How would his siblings fare without him? He wanted to know. He needed to know.
"Kankuro," Gaara calls, standing in his elder brother's doorway. Kankuro's head snaps in Gaara's direction. He gives a hum of recognition, telling his brother to continue as he returns his attention to the puppet he was repairing. Gaara had stopped threatening his siblings a long time ago. Gaara wanted a healthy relationship with his siblings, instead of scaring him, as he did when they were children. "Kankuro, would you miss me if I were to die?" he asks. The question came as a shock to Kankuro; wasn't it obvious? He loved his baby brother with all his heart. Even when he feared Gaara, he still loved him as an older brother should. Kankuro was quick to answer, though, tipping his head up to look at Gaara before motioning for him to come sit with him.
"Of course I would, Gaara." No, Kankuro would not miss the Kazekage, nor would he miss the jinjuriki that Gaara was; he would miss his baby brother. Reluctantly, Gaara makes his way over to his brother's bed. Of course Kankuro would miss him. More than the Kazekage, Gaara was his little brother. His only little brother. Gaara, what would make you think I wouldn't miss you? Y'know, me and you and Temari, we're a team. It wouldn't ever be the same without you." Why would Gaara ask such a thing? The question burned at the back of Kankuro's mind. Gaara tipped his head toward the ground. Why did he want to die? Why did he feel such loathe towards himself?
Why? He asked himself. Because my siblings love me.
Gaara turns to his brother, tears swelling in his pale eyes. "I killed our mother," he chokes out just above a whisper. Gaara had never met his mother, never heard her voice, or knew who exactly she was, but he missed her. To this day, he mourns the death of a woman he never met. Gaara presses his palms to his eyes to keep from crying. In his blind state, he feels Kankuro's strong arms wrap around him. The pain he felt in his chest when he thought about his mother was close to unbearable. Leaning into his brother, laying his forehead against the soft fabric that covered Kankuro's shoulder, Gaara cries. It's been so long since the last time Gaara cried; so long since he felt warm, wet tears fall down his cheeks, so long since his vision had been clouded like this, so long since he felt so vulnerable. He trusted Kankuro to keep him safe. Nothing in the world could get past Kankuro's strong arms. In this moment, only Gaara could harm himself. And Kankuro wouldn't let that happen.
"Gaara, you didn't kill her," Kankuro whispers. "It wasn't your fault, it wasn't anybody's fault." True, he missed his mother. He missed her more than anything, honestly. Of all the times he lashed out at someone because of her death, he had never blamed Gaara for it. Bad things happen to good people, that's the end of it. "Even if it was your fault, you would still be my baby brother, and I would still love you." That was true. Even if Gaara was the proven cause of death, Kankuro would forever love his baby brother
Ah, there was that word again; love. Gaara had figured out that there were different kinds of love. Temari loves Kankuro, but not in the same way that she loves Shikamaru. From what Gaara knows, there is a family love, and a romantic love. What Gaara didn't understand was this illogical love that ties him to his mother. What was she, other than his creator? Not a caregiver, not a mother, not a friend, nothing but his creator. If she was nothing, why had Gaara always loved her?
Pulling away from his elder brother's warm embrace, Gaara looks up at him "I love you, Kankuro." Though he didn't understand the whole concept of love yet, he knew what he felt for his brother was something of that magnitude. Kankuro places a kiss on his brother's head.
"I love you, too, baby brother."
