Hari never liked dreams. In fact, there were many days he would prefer to work away than sleep.

Whenever Granny caught into this fact, she would scold him about his poor habit. In fact, most grandmas would give him that look of disappointment, while mothers would complain he needed to fatten up and get more rest. Maybe it was their secret power that they always knew when he didn't eat or sleep, despite him looking as healthy as he could be.

In a strange way, it was rather comforting. It reminded him of a wrinkly hand touching his cheek, or the warmth of a mother's cooking. Yet, Hari could never recall those memories clearly. As he reached out to these memories, they would vanish out of his grasp.

Something in him ached at this knowledge. He would never know who his grandmother or his mother was. He had no idea if they were still alive and missed him, or if they died a long time ago.

No, something in him already knew that answer. It was the reason why there was such a large ache in him. He knew there was no one waiting for him back at home. The only thing waiting for him was the coldness of his clan.

The ache in him froze at the thought of going back to Konoha. Any time the thought floated in his mind, the freezing feeling in his heart steeled Hari's resolve.

Despite part of Hari longing for those warm memories, the dreams at night were memories he did not wish to remember.

Something he saw in every dream was red. The color of blood dripped from his hands as he reached out, screaming for someone when all he could see was darkness. That person's name was on the tip of his tongue, but Hari could not hear his own screams. There was a vivid flash of lightning seared into his brain, before his entire world was painted in red.

Then he would hear the pleading. There was a female pleading his name over, and over, and over again. She was begging his name countless times. Something in Hari wanted to shatter apart at the brokenness in her voice. There was a bright green flash that reminded him of his eye. His world was stained that vivid shade of green, then his world went black. He was alone again.

Then Hari would feel pain. All Hari could feel would be a crushing pain all over his body that made him wish for the merciful sleep that was death.

(He felt abandoned and betrayed)

Then he would wake up.

This was a dream he saw so much, he could probably recount every single detail by the millisecond. It was the same dream he saw when he was found by Granny and the village. It was how he knew his name, when he knew nothing else.

Thanks to the Hashirama cells, Hari did not need to eat, sleep, or drink. Tsunade informed him of this during their first meeting. Hari wished he knew about this a long time ago. It probably would have saved him a lot of trauma.

Hari hated his dreams. They simply provided more questions than answers to his past. It made him want to run away from his past sometimes. His past seemed to hold more pain than kindness, but that was the coward's way out.

(You refuse to go to Konoha. Isn't that cowardly? A voice whispered this into his head. He refused to listen)

Hari hated his dreams because they held the pains of his past. Yet, it wasn't the same as Gaara.

Gaara did not fear dreams. He feared his sleep.

Gaara was a child who could not even afford to sleep, without having to worry about his own family trying to kill him and his entire village living in fear of him.

A child needed more sleep than adults, yet Gaara had to fight this need for his entire life.

Gaara needed help, but Hari would be lying if he said he knew what he was doing. He was more surprised about the lack of bounties with his face and name plastered everywhere.

He fucking kidnapped the Kazekage's son, who happened to also be a jinchuriki. Sure, he had a disguise and all, but the fact that it actually worked?

Hari would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit dumbfounded. It felt more like sheer luck than anything else.

Yet, here Hari was. He had a kid in his cot, while Hari paced back and forth in his tent. He typically kept his magic tent outside of Kamui, but it felt unsafe to camp while other shinobi would be chasing him.

(There was always something about camping that felt nostalgic. Hari bought a white tent in particular and charmed it to be his portable home. Sometimes, he thought he could remember laughter)

He looked around the emptiness that was Kamui and grimaced. Besides fighting and keeping some necessities, like first aid or emergency rations, he did not spend a lot of time inside this dimension. Cubes are far as the eye could see. It could use a lot of redecorating.

Hari never liked this pocket dimension. The darkness and loneliness of the space made Hari contemplate certain thoughts that he worked to ignore. The frustration about the child soldiers and pointless wars would sometimes boil over to the point where Hari just wanted everything to burn. Anything for the sake of peace.

Hari shook his head. His hatred and bitterness at the world was something that could only be tamed. It was entrenched into his bones. He felt his emotions too strongly.

The few that were truly innocent in this wretched world were the children.

Hari despised messing with politics. He knew Rasa would chase him down to get his son back and he had no desire to be pulled into such a disaster of a situation. That would be a bomb waiting to explode. Fuck, he would be more likely to kill Rasa before joining their Hidden Village, if it came to that, and Hari would prefer not to be the cause of a civil war.

However, Rasa did not deserve Gaara. Hari might have made a promise, and while this may be a headache for future Hari, he could not find it in himself to regret his actions.

The root of the problem was how could Hari help Gaara?

Hari mostly knew combat jutsus and his Shirangan was useless in this situation. Well, unless he wanted to control bijuu, but Hari was unsure he was capable of doing so. Unleashing a Bijuu that enjoyed terrorizing a child seemed like a horrible plan.

He could possibly try and give Gaara some Hashirama cells. If so, Gaara would no longer need to sleep. That would not help the issue of Gaara's consciousness having a bijuu communicate with him all the time. However, Hari did not even understand how he got the Hashirama cells, despite Tsunade punching him several times to "jog" his memory. There was a high probability that Gaara's body would reject the cells too.

The issue keeps going back to Gaara's flawed seal. Hari could not make heads or tails of whatever mess that was. Regular seals looked headache inducing to Hari. He had no patience to sit down and draw seals, so he never had much of an interest in the subject before. He would prefer to learn different fighting techniques.

Hari was regretting that quite a lot now. He sighed loudly. What a mess he got himself into.

Worst comes to shove, he could drag Tsunade into this. Hashirama cells would be his back-up plan, and honestly, she would have better ideas than he would. Tsunade's grandma was an Uzumaki, right? Weren't they famous for their sealing techniques or something?

Wait a minute. Seals and Tsunade. Didn't Tsunade often complain about an old perverted teammate of hers? Supposedly, he was a seal master. Hari never bothered keeping up with information about the big shots in the world. However, if the guy was a teammate of Tsunade's, that must mean he has to be a bit capable, right?

Then again, this Jiraiya fellow was a pervert whose favorite hobby was peeping on bathhouses, so Hari wouldn't hold his breath either.

Either way, Tsunade owes Hari a favor. It might be a good moment to call on that favor.

Hari looked at Gaara, who was unconscious. Their fight exhausted the kid and knocked him out clean. That also meant Hari had another ticking time bomb on his hands. He needed to handle this sooner than later.

He had to do this for Gaara's sake. He promised to help make the kid happy and he wasn't going to be the reason why the dead could not sleep peacefully.

Seems like perverted Jiraiya was his best shot.

(What has the world come to?)

Hari sighed before stretching. He wasn't physically tired, but mentally exhausted. Honestly, a quick nap was mighty tempting… He had some security measures in place once Gaara woke back up.

Maybe he should take a quick 15 minute nap. Sleeping on the ground was uncomfortable, but he dealt with worse. Maybe someone up there would be merciful on him and actually let him sleep peacefully for once.

Hari snorted at the thought, but a guy could hope, right?

That night, in the usual nightmare, a man with blond hair and blue eyes flashed in his dream. It was an easy look-up.

Hari needed to meet Jiraiya even more now.