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No betareading.
© "Naruto" is created and copyrighted by Kishimoto Masashi, and owned by Shueisha Publishing Co., Ltd. and Studio Pierrot.
Enjoy.
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"A villain is just a victim whose story hasn't been told." Chris Colfer, The Wishing Spell
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Alive And Victorious
Chapter 17. Two sides of the same coin
Matsuri paced around her room for the hundredth time. For the last few hours, she was continuously walking there and back again, from time to time throwing herself upon her bed, but she was too perturbed to lie still. Since Kankurou had left, there was no peace for her anymore, and she doubted she would be able to sleep at night at all.
Mission report: Failure. Those words were haunting her constantly. So it had been the mission, after all. A special mission. A top secret mission.
Basically, a suicide mission.
She felt sick and her head spinned. All unanswered questions came back to her, upsetting and confusing her beyond all imagination, as she ringed her face with the cold water again, briefly pressing her fingers against her temples.
She wanted to cry and she wanted to scream. She hated everyone and she felt numb at the same time, as if the sand storm raged through her and tore everything out of her, leaving only an empty shell.
Mission 1023098. Assassination of the six-year-old child. Ordered by the Kazekage himself. The father of the said child.
How many such attempts happened before he ceased?
Matsuri stopped by the window and stared at the Kazekage Tower. Its lights were already on because the night was about to fall. Before she could realize what she was doing, the girl opened the window and hopped across the window-sill, jumping at the nearest rooftop.
The breeze tousled her hair, and she stopped momentarily, swallowing, when the apprehension overwhelmed her. What was she supposed to do? Just march into the Tower and demand to see the Kazekage?
Yes, she replied to herself, skipping from one rooftop to another. Exactly.
No one else held the answers to the questions she needed to ask, after all.
Yakku might be the good source of the information, either, but she didn't trust him anymore. She was disgusted at the thought of his possible reasons for telling her the truth. He simply wanted to separate her from Gaara by any means, and he succeeded. It was all that mattered to him. He didn't give a damn about the truth at all.
She knew she might be unfair a bit, but she didn't care. She didn't even care that she was going to betray Kankurou. He asked her to keep the secret, but she was going to spill it.
Well, maybe those were his intentions, after all. He must have known what she would do.
Matsuri jumped down onto the road and headed for the Tower's entrance. The guard blocked her way, asking for her purpose, and she was just too distracted to mind her tongue before the answer slipped from her lips.
"I need to see Gaara."
The guard eyed her carefully, and she cringed inwardly, blushing, but her resolution was absolute. The formalities were the last thing on her mind at the moment, and she nodded at the guard, who let her inside. She made it only to the stairs, when the ANBU ninja appeared by her side, as if planning to stop her. Matsuri opened her mouth to explain herself again, but before she uttered a word, another ANBU came by and waved his hand, muttering something about "Kazekage's girlfriend." The kunoichi decided she was consequently allowed to pass, so she ran upstairs, where she almost bumped into Kankurou.
"I need to see Gaara," she repeated before he could ask anything, and he scrutinized her carefully. Matsuri thought he would dismiss her, but then he nodded and tilted his head, as if showing her, which way she ought to take.
"He's in his room," the puppeteer announced. "Suppose you don't need a guide there?"
Shaking her head, she stepped forward, leaving him behind, too busy with her own thoughts to realize she had been quite rude, not greeting him properly, and then leaving without a word. After entering the residential part of the building, she slowed down her pace, and pressed her hands against her hammering heart.
Did she really have enough courage to plunge into the dark secrets of Gaara's past? Moreover, would he be willing to share them with her, after they practically broke up?
There was only one way to find out.
She stopped in front of his door, and knocked.
"Who is it?" he asked after a good while, his voice tired. Matsuri licked her lips, suddenly realizing how much she missed his voice. How much she missed him.
"It's me," she squeaked, and cleared her throat. "Gaara, it's me," she repeated in a firmer tone, leaning closer.
Unnerved, she waited for him to open the door. When he finally did, frowning in surprise, she gulped audibly.
"Matsuri?" he inquired, his hand locked around the doorknob. "Did something happen?"
Talk about the lamest question ever.
"Actually, yes," she replied, her voice slightly trembling. "Can I... Can I come in?"
The redhead stood there motionless, giving her that unblinking stare. She couldn't guess at all what he was thinking. After a while, it turned out he wasn't going to let her in. Well, she didn't go down all that way for nothing, so she blurted out the first question, her voice very quiet.
"Why didn't you tell me about the mission 1023098?"
Astonishment and wariness flickered over his features, but it took him only a few seconds to recover. Matsuri stumbled and gasped when he grabbed her forearm and pulled her inside. After closing the door, he turned to her and crossed his bare arms upon his chest, his gaze hard.
"Who told you about it? It's top secret," he inquired, his voice also quiet yet sharp like a kunai.
"You should have told me," she replied, resisting the urge to twiddle her fingers. "Why didn't you?"
Gaara slowly turned his head aside, breaking the eye contact.
"It's top secret. Besides... it wouldn't change anything."
Matsuri opened her mouth, but he didn't let her speak.
"Whoever told you about that mission, gave away the top secret information," he said, his tone harsh. "I, as the Kazekage, must know who did such thing. Was it that chuunin, Yakku?"
The girl faltered briefly at the mentioning of Yakku's name. It seemed, though, that Gaara wasn't going to ask her about their relationship. He only cared about the leak.
"No," she answered shortly. "It was Kankurou."
Gaara's almond-shaped eyes widened until she could see her reflection in the pale depths.
"Kan—" he began to speak, and broke off, obviously lost for words. It was the first time Matsuri had seen him that way.
She nodded seriously, and started reciting.
"Mission 1023098. Open to all shinobi of Sunagakure—" Her voice broke. She took a shallow breath, and continued. "—to be assigned... at any time."
Gaara watched her in silence, his face impassive. The tear slipped down her cheek, as she continued.
"The assassination of the... of the container..."
Still no reaction from him. Unable to stop another tear from falling, she sniffled and wiped her face with the back of her palm.
"...of the demon Shukaku—" Biting her lip, she fought to suppress the sobs racking her body.
The redhead averted his gaze and shifted back, so she could only see his profile, as he stared at the wall.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, her voice still hoarse a bit from all those stifled cries.
Gaara shrugged, the movement of his shoulders under the net shirt almost imperceptible.
"It wouldn't change anything," he repeated shortly, harshly.
Matsuri shook her head, taking a step in his direction.
"It would change many things," she protested softly. "It would change the way I feel."
"How so?" he asked, still refusing to look at her, his tone sarcastic.
The girl hesitated, knowing she was about to cross the point of no return.
"You didn't just kill him," she uttered quietly, her own voice sounding weird in her ears. "You did it in self-defense."
Gaara turned to her, straightening. His arms by his sides, his shoulders tensed as he seemed to brace himself for something.
"It doesn't mean I enjoyed it less," he spat bitterly, darkly. Matsuri blinked at the admission, her heart thumping as the chills crept up and down her spine. So this was it. Pandora's box was opened, and she could only hope she would survive it.
"What do you mean, you enjoyed it?" she asked uncertainly, hardly able to speak as her tongue refused to work properly.
Gaara snorted shortly under his breath and clenched his palms into fists, his eyes sparkling with malevolence and anger.
"I enjoyed the sight of his blood splattered all over, as his body lay at my feet, mutilated beyond recognition," he seethed through his teeth. "Is this what you wanted to hear?"
Matsuri swallowed a few times, her stomach making somersaults. The sour taste invaded her mouth, as she fought the sickness. Well, she wanted the truth, and she got it, as raw and blunt as they come. Forcing herself not to step back, she tried to keep her calm, inwardly repeating that she should have expected it. Gaara wasn't going to go easy on her, and she couldn't let him provoke her.
"You don't have to give me the details," she managed to say at last, and almost flinched at the despising look he had sent her.
"Don't ask if you don't want to know," he drawled icily, his eyes narrowed, and the girl bit her trembling lower lip. Speechless, she watched him in silence, cringing at the malicious expression she had seen on him only once before, after the fight with ANBU assassins. Naturally, she wasn't afraid he would hurt her, physically at least. Most likely, his only purpose was to scare her away, to avoid this conversation for some reasons.
But still, he didn't order her out of his sight.
Taking a step forward, she raised her hand as if trying to touch him, but she didn't dare to finish the movement. Instead, her hand wandered to the hitai-ate wrapped around her neck, fidgeting at it nervously.
"Gaara, I don't know what to do," she uttered, her voice just above the whisper. "You said that whatever it was, we would face it together, remember?"
Obviously defeated by his own words coming back at him in a way he hadn't probably expected, the redhead swallowed. The heavy sigh tore out from his throat, and his shoulders visibly sagged. Closing his eyes briefly, he stepped back as if increasing the distance between them could be of any help.
"I don't want to talk about it, Matsuri. Especially with you," he said wearily, his anger gradually fading away.
The girl nodded, even if she was sure she couldn't even begin to imagine how hard it must have been to him, to have this particular conversation.
"That is something I could understand," she acknowledged, her lips curving in a faint, encouraging smile. "But now I have learnt about what you've been trying to keep secret from me. Please, don't punish Kankurou too severely for giving it away. I'm glad he had done it, even if what I had learnt utterly confused me."
Gaara dismissed her concern with a shrug.
"Don't worry about him. He is perfectly aware that I understand his reasons," he said, his tone matter-of-fact.
The kunoichi breathed with relief, suddenly feeling drained. The entire conversation was unbelievably hard, and they didn't even make it to the point.
"Can I have some water?" she asked uncertainly, as she spotted the mug on his desk. He followed her gaze, and hesitated.
"I've been drinking it—" he uttered, and Matsuri forced herself not to roll her eyes. They've been kissing a few times before yet he thought she had issues to drink from his mug?
"I don't mind," she said carefreely, and tripped to the desk, resolutely taking the mug and swallowing the water in one gulp. "That's better," she murmured to herself, before the tension overwhelmed her again. Looking into Gaara's eyes, she remembered his previous words about enjoying slaying people, and the tremors returned as the words changed themselves into the repulsive image in her mind.
In some inexplicable way, the faithful and considerate person standing in front of her, and the heartless, bloodthirsty murderer she had only heard of, were one. Two sides of the same coin. It was the biggest mystery she had ever encountered, the mystery troubling her from the very moment she had met him.
And it was still unresolved.
Matsuri licked her lips, as she stared at her precious redhead. He crossed his arms over his chest again, and his calm expression could have deceived someone who wouldn't know him as well as she did. Inhaling deeply, the girl decided she must be the one to bring it on. Supposedly, it would be easier for him to answer her questions than to tell the whole story by himself.
"I know the time to talk about it might not be right - if it was ever going to be right - but we can't put it off any longer," she opened softly, watching him intently to gauge his reaction. "I can't put it off any longer. Since we have met, I've heard various things about you from many people. I was confused, but I was in no position to raise the topic with you. But still, the confusion remained..."
She broke off for a while, taking her time to gather her thoughts. Gaara didn't comment on her words nor gave her any other response. He simply waited for the continuation, so she spoke again.
"It made no sense to me, at all. They said you were—" She averted her eyes momentarily. "A bad person," she finished with a slight trembling in her voice. "From what they said, it seemed I should be dead the first moment you started teaching me. I should be buried in the sand." The girl laughed mirthlessly at the memory. "I was clumsy, slow... just annoying. And there you were. Patient, understanding, but also sad and distant." She clasped her hands together, gazing into his eyes earnestly. "However, I told you I didn't want to pry into your past. Only... I didn't know I was a part of your past, in some sense. And you were a part of mine."
With a feeling that she was drowning, she took a few shaky breaths, wondering if Gaara would shy away if she tried to touch him. Slowly, she reached for him, watching his body tense at the prospect of her hands upon him. Biting her lip helplessly, she moved back, as tears stung her eyes.
"Gaara, I'm sorry..." she whispered, and he hang his head in shame.
"Don't be, Matsuri," he said in a dead voice. "I am the one who should beg your forgiveness."
The girl pressed her hand against her mouth, muffling the sob. Pulling it away, she quickly wiped a few tears that managed to escape.
"Will you do it, then?" she asked quietly, and from his frown she could see that he didn't understand. "Will you ask my forgiveness, then?" she clarified, her voice the tiniest whisper.
Even if his expression didn't change at all, even if he didn't blink nor spoke, the tears welled in his eyes and streaked down, and Matsuri gasped at the heart-wrenching sight.
"Gaara...!" she exclaimed, as she crossed the distance of a few steps between them in a flash and held him with all her might. She could feel that his muscles stiffened at the contact, but she couldn't care less, as she grabbed his wrists and wrapped his arms around her waist. Hiding her face in his chest, she wept with relief, while he put his forehead against her shoulder, silently wetting her shirt with his tears.
She didn't know how long they stood there. Gradually, her body stopped quaking, and the wet spot on her shirt grew cold, as Gaara's tears soaked in it no longer. Yet still, the couple clung to each other tightly, unwilling to pull back even for a second, before any remnant of the recent turmoil was gone.
Eventually, they grew completely calm at last.
Matsuri was the first to move back a bit, as she glanced at the redhead, deeply touched by the amount of trust he had shown her. The damp marks were still visible on his cheeks, and she couldn't resist touching them. Gaara blinked, as her fingers traced down his face, and the kunoichi stared at him in bewilderment.
Not so long ago he had admitted that he enjoyed killing people, and then he cried into her shoulder, mutely asking for her forgiveness for what he had done.
Two sides of the same coin.
"Gaara, what happened?" she could only ask, withdrawing her hand reluctantly. "What happened... to you?"
Refusal written all over his face, he hesitated before he would finally utter it. Matsuri released his hands swiftly and went towards the wall, reaching for the light switch next to the door. He had no time to react, when she clicked it, plunging them into darkness. Stretching her arms to feel her way through his room, she stepped forward, until she found him, still standing motionless in the middle of the room.
Holding his hand, she briefly pressed it against her cheek, the small sigh tumbling off her mouth at the contact. Entwining her fingers with his, she straightened, quickly reconfirming her resolution.
"You said that you... enjoyed killing people," she finally uttered, unable to erase trepidation from her voice. "How come? Was it... the demon?"
She could feel the grasp of Gaara's palm tightening upon hers, and she squeezed it reassuringly, even though she was shivering all over. The reply came after a long time, when she began to think he wouldn't speak at all.
"Initially, yes," he uttered in a low murmur, and Matsuri nodded, even if he couldn't see it, most likely.
"What happened, then?" she inquired, haunted with a feeling that they were standing on the thinnest glass, which could shatter at any time.
Another long pause, as if he was gathering his thoughts. Or calling for his strength.
Most likely, both.
"I was... alone."
Alone. Detested. Isolated. She could understand it all. People were afraid. No wonder they rejected him. She would do the same.
Actually, she did the same after she had learnt about Aoba's death.
"Things were happening to me... beyond my control," Gaara continued in a dull voice, and the girl nodded again. She had no other way to acknowledge his words, once she decided she would better stay silent.
The redhead ceased speaking again, and Matsuri thought to herself she couldn't stay silent, despite of her previous decision. Apparently, she had to draw everything from him, bit by bit.
"Was it the demon?" she prompted.
"Yes."
"Was it... taking over?"
"Yes." A short pause. "I couldn't stop it, no matter how hard I tried."
"How-" Matsuri hesitated momentarily. "How old were you?"
"Five."
Talk about unimaginable burden.
Silence reigned once more, and the only sound audible was their heavy breathing. It seemed to Matsuri that the outer world has vanished somehow, and the two of them floated somewhere in the space, absolutely alone. She briefly wondered what would happen if someone disturbed them, but there was still hope that Kankurou would shoo any intruders away, since he had seen her earlier, going to his brother's room.
Intentionally or not, Gaara squeezed her hand lightly, and she deemed his movement an invitation to continue. The girl cleared her throat, as she spoke again.
"What happened then?"
Of course, he didn't answer immediately.
"The... rampages went on and on," he finally uttered. "I lost the will to fight off Shukaku, as everyone was growing apart from me. Even my own family—" He broke off suddenly.
Matsuri didn't want to disturb him, so she bit her lip hard, as the tears she managed to keep back till now started falling. She kept her breathing even so Gaara wouldn't notice that she was crying, and he continued, eventually.
"I failed." His voice hardened. "In Sunagakure, the ninjas who fail are useless. For this reason, I was doomed."
The girl gasped.
"Mission 1023098..." she whispered in a raspy voice.
"Yes."
"Was it then... when my grandfather...?"
"Yes. He was third."
Shocked, Matsuri froze with her mouth agape.
"Can you remember him?"
"I can remember each and every one of them," Gaara replied darkly. "And he was the only one fighting with chakra blades. He was quite a shinobi but there was no way he could succeed at the mission—" the redhead paused, as if struck by something. "Matsuri..." he said uncertainly. "Are you crying?"
"No," she said quickly. "No, I'm—"
But he was at it already, as he slid his hand up her arm and neck, until it found her wet cheek.
"You're crying," he said in a flat voice, and the kunoichi decided to drop all pretences, as Gaara wiped her damp skin with his thumb.
"Yes, Gaara, I'm crying. Anyone would, after listening to that," she replied softly, sadly. "I lied because I didn't want to disturb you. Please... please, continue, will you?"
Brushing her lips against his fingers, Matsuri straightened, as she tried to seek his gaze in the darkness. Since her eyes grew accustomed to it, she could see the black silhouette in front of her, but she didn't know if she actually spotted a glimpse of his eyes or it was only her imagination.
"Please?" she urged, as she tightened her grip on his palm and pulled it away from her face, to prevent him from feeling another onslaught of tears.
"There's not much left to say," Gaara said, and she sighed lightly. The biggest understatement ever.
"You were angry," she probed, surprised by the level of self-control she had reached, as her voice didn't even tremble nor falter. The redhead uttered a quiet half-growl, half-snort.
"To put it mildly," he commented. "I never asked them to seal Shukaku within me, yet they did. I handled him as best as I could, but it was still not enough. It turned out I didn't live up to their expectations, so they simply decided to get rid of me. And I hated them for it."
"Them?"
It took him longer than ever to reply.
"My father, actually."
Matsuri let out the breath she was holding, as she kept her hands locked around his.
"That question was always nagging at me," she admitted, stepping up closer. "Why did your father allow that to happen? I mean, why didn't he prevent the sealing?"
"Prevent?" Gaara said, and she shuddered at the sadness that one word was dripping with. "He ordered it to be done."
The girl faltered, wishing to see his face for the first time since they had started talking. She knew she could have expected literally everything from this conversation, but this...
Shock didn't even begin to describe it.
"Wh—what?" Matsuri stuttered, as she fought the devastating pain clawing at her chest. "You mean... oh, Gaara, this is—"
She released his hands, moving back and forcefully pressing her palm against her lips. The odd feeling overwhelmed her - the feeling that she had just met a stranger.
A perfect stranger.
Everything she thought she knew about him, everything she had learnt from the first moment she had set her eyes on him, had been just turned upside down. The picture was complete now, but she couldn't find Gaara she used to know in it.
"I want the lights on," Matsuri blurted out in a daze. The redhead didn't speak, so she tripped towards the wall. Squinting her eyes, she clicked the light switch, as she wavered momentarily before she turned around and faced her perfect stranger.
It was still him... wasn't it? Naturally, he still looked the same... only he didn't. Not for her.
Slowly, uncertainly, the girl stepped up closer and raised her eyes to catch his gaze. Her heart still hurt from opening to embrace the whole truth that had been just given to her in the ultimate act of trust, and her mind was strangely clear, emptied of any thoughts.
With that last bit, she learnt everything she needed. It seemed to her that there were no questions left to be asked, no words left to be uttered. She could only stare at Gaara in silence, as he stared back, slightly nonplussed. She thought she needed to do something, to say something in return for what he had given her, and the only thing she could think of was the declaration she still didn't make, even if the time had been calling for it.
Suddenly abashed, she lowered her eyes briefly, as she took the deep breath before the plunge.
"I'm—I'm very grateful and... honoured... that you shared this with me," she began. "I appreciate it so much, and I—I only want to say that I—"
Funny, how hard it was to say those three words aloud. But still, if he managed to tell her so many details about his past, she definitely could manage a short declaration of her true feelings.
Ignoring the onslaught of heat upon her face and the intensity of Gaara's stare, she bravely looked him in the eye.
"I only want to say..." she repeated quietly, as her heart began to pound faster, "that I love you, Gaara."
The redhead visibly held his breath, as he stood completely still, obviously waiting for her words to sink in. He looked so surprised and confused, that in the different circumstances he would look pretty funny. But at the moment, it was not a laughing matter to any of them.
Matsuri shifted restlessly, because she wanted him to react. She didn't particularly expect he would utter those words back, yet she wanted him to say something. Just anything, so she would know he had acknowledged her declaration.
"I know that I should, uh, I don't know, have said it earlier, maybe—" the girl stuttered, unable to endure the tension any longer. She winced slightly at how stupid she sounded, but she simply had to let some of the nervousness escape, this or either way.
Promptly, Gaara raised his arm and gently put his fingers against her mouth, shaking his head. Matsuri blinked, astounded, as he shifted his hand, caressing her cheek. She closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation of his fingertips brushing against her skin, and the small sigh of disappointment tumbled off her lips, when he withdrew. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see him scrutinizing her from close-up, as if he sought for confirmation of her previous words in her gaze. Whatever he found, did apparently satisfy him, since he hugged the girl to his chest, and she relaxed almost instantly, melting in his embrace.
This was where she belonged; she had no slightest doubt about it, just as if previous several days didn't happen at all. She couldn't even bring herself to be angry at Yakku anymore. Naturally, he attempted to split her and Gaara apart, and even succeeded, albeit momentarily. But due to his endeavours, her relationship with Gaara had reached the new level of intimacy, and the warmth enveloped her heart at the thought.
Leaning against her boyfriend, Matsuri inhaled deeply, as the emotional exhaustion rendered her body sluggish. She wondered briefly how long they have been talking. She didn't want to disturb the silence and break the embrace, though, so she dismissed the thought, indulging herself almost shamelessly, as she cuddled up closer to her precious redhead.
The end of chapter 17.
Chapter 18. Not a role model