More Dark Soul
Jan. 20th, 2007 08:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shi_koiTitle: Dark Soul
Series: Story #2. Sequel to 'Sand Walker'
2nd part of the fic...
Series: Story #2. Sequel to 'Sand Walker'
2nd part of the fic...
::
Gaara hides his gifts in his underground treasure room – it's over a month until Kankurou's birthday and a little over six until Temari's.
No-one dares to ask where Gaara went to, nor do they comment when he eats, washes himself and his clothes and then leaves.
It's a two week walk for most people to get to Konohagakure, the Hidden Village of the Leaf, a good shinobi can get there after a week of constant, relentless travel. At full speed it would still take a shinobi three days. Gaara gets there in four days. He only walks.
His pass provided by the Kazekage gets him in with no delays or problems, although he is asked to meet with the Hokage the next day, if he decides to stay.
Not much has changed in the two years since he was last in Konoha. Everything is just as the name implies. The Leaf. Houses are mismatched and built in odd shapes, like trees growing closely together.
Massive natural trees, older than Konoha itself are all over the place, some with buildings built into them. Electrical wires streak through the spaces between the many structures, and at odd points there are balconies, signs and even on some, seemingly inaccessible roofs, tables.
It's easy to tell this is a shinobi village. Not many places have parks or picnic spots in places where you have to be capable of walking up walls, or balancing perfectly across long streams of wires in order to access them.
Gaara finds the place refreshing, if not a bit hectic.
There's almost no sign that Konoha is recovering from a major invasion, one that occurred less than four years ago. One in which Gaara himself attacked from the opposing side.
Sunagakure and Konohagakure are allies now, formed out of a combined need. The Sand were tricked into their alliance with Konoha's enemy, and Konoha didn't have the resources at the time to attack the Sand.
But it's an alliance that seems to have served both parties well.
Gaara walks through the streets, ignoring the mutters of the few people who knew who he was. They didn't matter. More people have no idea of who he is see the Sand hitae-ate and look on in curiosity, but that he doesn't mind. When evening starts to fall Gaara finds a place to rest. The hotel is used to catering to visiting shinobi and is on the outskirts of one of the quieter neighborhoods. They offer privacy and a whole host of relaxing amenities, including a private bath with each room.
Konoha lights up in the early night. There are lamps, lanterns in pretty shapes and candles glowing softly in the open windows of the restaurants and small scattered yattai style bars/eating areas. Gaara understands why so many people like Konoha, it feels warm, cozy, welcoming.
Gaara really doesn't know why he came here.
There isn't much for Gaara to do here. He doesn't like games, or dancing, or drinking, and much of Konoha's evening life is socially-orientated.
Gaara wonders, unsure of what motivated him to return here, until he spots a familiar blonde head.
The younger members of the crowd mostly ignore the blonde, although quite a few of the older people, those around sixteen years ago mutter obscenities at him and glare viciously. Gaara has good hearing, and it feels strange not to have those insults hurled at himself.
A few of the braver folks throw things, or try to trip the small blonde up, but he ignores them and simply smiles widely, warmly, as though he believes that none of the hatred is aimed at him.
When he gets closer Gaara can make out the tanned skin, a deceptively slender frame under an atrociously loud orange outfit and then, when the blonde gets closer still, the hauntingly blue eyes that Gaara still can't forget.
Gaara would never admit it, but Uzumaki Naruto is stronger than him.
Naruto doesn't take advantage of his strength.
Gaara wants to understand why.
He can still remember Naruto's aura, his normally blue chakra a deep terrifying crimson, burning around him in a living flame, his previously blue eyes slitted and a dark ruby red. The whiskers on his cheeks were blackish gouges scarring his face and his entire countenance seemed more animalistic than human, just as it always was when Naruto called forth the chakra of the Kyuubi sealed inside of him. The nine-tailed fox demon was one of the most powerful beings in creation and it is impossible to kill him. Konoha's fourth Hokage, their precious Yondaime was killed just to seal it inside Naruto.
Gaara can't help but feel...glad...knowing that he's not alone, that he's not the only monster in the world.
Naruto stops a few feet away from Gaara and tilts his head to one side in curiosity. His face is open and shows every emotion. There's excitement, confusion, joy, and a fierce, deep hunger in his eyes.
Gaara recognises it. The desire to fight against a worthy opponent.
Gaara wonders why though, why Naruto is so quiet. He knows the blonde is the self-proclaimed loudest ninja of the Leaf, a claim that everyone he knew agreed with, hell, even by reputation Uzumaki Naruto was known as the number one most annoying, loud and unpredictable ninja of the Leaf.
He was also unspoken of as one of the most dangerous. Not because he could fight better, or had more training, but because he was the demon-child of Konohagakure.
The demon-child who could destroy the world in a bath of fire and lava.
They didn't understand. Gaara did, and he barely knew Naruto. He'd made a point of finding out everything he could about Naruto, trying to find out why Naruto could live the way he did, how he could live without mindless slaughter, how he could befriend people and care for them...if Gaara himself could do the same.
Naruto cared too much for everyone. Even those that hated him, reviled him, abused him unmercifully. Where Gaara killed those who dared to hurt him, Naruto simply accepted it as his burden.
It was beyond Gaara's ken.
But Gaara wanted to understand.
So, when Naruto started walking, and threw a look over one shoulder as though to ask why Gaara wasn't following, Gaara followed. Naruto led them both a long way into the surrounding woods before stopping in a large meadow. He took off his bright orange jacket and took a fighting stance.
Gaara smiled. This he understood.
::
Gaara crossed his arms as his took in his opponent. It had been a long, long time – too long in fact, since he'd felt this sense of anticipation. Of all the enemies and allies he'd ever fought, only four people had drawn blood, and only one person in existence had managed to ever defeat him. Not even Orochimaru's subordinate had managed that, nor the Uchiha prodigy.
But the outcast demon-boy who loved with all his being, who fought with every last fragment of himself, Uzumaki Naruto, had managed to completely wipe him out, even though Gaara had freely allowed Shukaku complete control of his true form for their battle.
Now Naruto stood across from him in his garish bright orange trousers rolled up at the hem - something Gaara knew only too well since they were both the same height, although he'd learnt to slice off the excess fabric with a sharp kunai before binding his lower half of his legs with bandages – a black short-sleeved t-shirt and his hitae-ate tied to his head with black fabric.
If it weren't for the bandage lined weapons pouches and forehead protector he could have passed for a normal civilian.
Naruto grinned at him and dashed forward, his hands flashing in seals too fast for any ordinary person to see and suddenly there were nearly fifty extra Naruto shadow clones on the field, charging from every direction.
Gaara felt like smiling. This at least was predictable.
The sand whipped to and fro, dispatching the clones with ease. Gaara knew that this was Naruto's way of testing Gaara's growth over the past few years, but Gaara didn't mind, his blood was singing in his veins and he could feel Shukaku's excitement.
A flicker of red caught Gaara's eye and he turned just in time to prevent a chakra-lined fist from landing, swiveling on one heel to avoid the sudden kick that was behind Naruto's feint.
The sand swept up, but Naruto was gone again, lost in the sea of look-a-likes.
Gaara kept his eyes on those clones closest to him, each one wearing the same cheeky smirk-slash-smile-slash-grin on their whisker-marked faces. Ten rushed in suddenly, each pulling out a weapon. Tiny shuriken, larger sharp kunai and even a few glitteringly pointed senbon flew towards Gaara's position.
Gaara's sand came up again to block the projectiles. Gaara turned away to scan the field when a handful of the shuriken disappeared with a puff of smoke and another clone took it's place, throwing another weapon. Two clones came in low from the other side and Gaara caught sight of Naruto, a massive 'You're done for now!' look on him and a huge scroll in his hands.
Gaara's eyes widened. He brought the sand up in an impenetrable sphere around himself just as Naruto slashed open his palm and swept his bloodied hand over the center of the scroll. He couldn't see what happened next, but the heat that suddenly surrounded him made him choke on the air inside the sand...which was slowly turning a murky opaque colour, as though it was melting!
Gaara used his transportation technique to get out of the sphere, his eyes opening wide in disbelief as he watched from the safety of one of the trees lining the meadow as a dark black fire slowly consumes his sand sphere transforming it into a solid bubble of lightly opalescent glass.
Naruto sat off to one side, looking exhausted which was exactly how Gaara felt after losing so much chakra-infused sand, but with a smile on his face as he felt Gaara's chakra move from inside the sphere to safely.
Naruto gave him a short wave before he disappeared in a swirl of wind and leaves, only to appear next to Gaara.
His smile said it all.
Gaara didn't know what to think. That move could have killed him if he'd stayed inside his sand, and now that he didn't have his shield he was vulnerable to any physical attack Naruto could throw at him.
When Naruto didn't attack him, Gaara relaxed.
When Naruto spoke, Gaara didn't know if he wanted to run, or smack the blonde.
::
Naruto's apartment is small and more of a bedsit than anything else. Every available space is taken up with little houseplants and a few sparse items which speak volumes of Naruto's personality. There's a huge poster of the Leaf insignia over Naruto's bed, and a calender opposite his table, the only decorations covering the bare walls.
The only furniture in the place beside the kitchenette is a bed, a bedside table, a small dresser, a small wardrobe and a table big enough for two people with two wooden chairs – and many erratically placed whimsical little shelves dotting the bare walls.
Gaara would have wondered about where Naruto entertained guests if he'd been anyone else – or if his eyes hadn't caught the numerous scrubbed ink stains on the open area of the floor. Naruto obviously studied and worked harder than most people thought. His own sources stated that Naruto trained extensively in the outside fields, but lacked any note-worthy book or scroll instruction.
Gaara tries not to think about what else isn't known about Naruto. How many more secrets he holds.
A small doll rests on the windowsill beside Naruto's bed, a doll that looks very familiar. Gaara frowns when he stares at it, wondering why the man who taught Uchiha Sasuke to counter Gaara's moves would be represented in a cute, obviously hand-made plushie doll. If the man had been Naruto's Team instructor, Naruto would have been training with him and the Uchiha prodigy.
When Gaara finds the pictures beside Naruto's bed he understands.
Naruto was betrayed twice. Where the renowned Uchiha prodigy had personal tutoring by their supposed instructor, Naruto found his own way to become strong. Naruto defeated the infamous Sabaku no Gaara, where not even the Uchiha could do more than annoy and wound insignificantly.
Naruto is dangerous, and obviously determined as well as strong. Gaara is pleased.
When Gaara has taken in all of the small apartment, he joins Naruto in the kitchen area and watches as Naruto makes a tray of green tea. He finds it funny when Naruto scowls angrily at the water when it burns him, then at the powdered tea when he drops a bit too much and it spills, then as he accidentally knocks the cups and the tray almost overturns.
It's hard to reconcile the terrifyingly powerful shinobi with the clumsy boy in the kitchen trying to make tea. Gaara can tell Naruto doesn't get many guests.
When the tea is done, Naruto carries it to the open space on the floor and places it down carefully, motioning for Gaara to stay where he was. When Naruto reaches under his bed and pulls out two comfy-looking floor cushions and places them at opposite sides of the tray, Gaara stares. Both of them are made from mismatched pieces of fabric, and should have looked terrible with all the bright oranges, yellows and reds, but somehow they looked...inviting. In the center of each cushion, in a slightly darker coloured red, lined with multi-coloured blue thread, was a single spiral, obviously sewn in carefully, the same spiral that Naruto added to all of his clothes.
Gaara doesn't know if it would be rude to ask, but he wonders then if Naruto made his own clothes too. He certainly hasn't ever seen anywhere sell clothes quite like the ones Naruto wears. The t-shirts and regular ninja sandals are normal enough though, and Gaara decides not to ask. He doesn't like it when people try to pry into his life, so he won't do it to someone he wants as a friend.
Naruto pours out the tea and they sit in silence as they both drink it, Gaara watching Naruto as he sits there, staring into the pale green liquid as though contemplating the universe.
A strange look of consternation comes over Gaara's face after an hour and a half of complete silence. As nice as it is to not feel pressured into having to speak, this quiet didn't suit the usually loud-mouthed ninja.
Gaara spoke first. “Uzumaki Naruto.” He watched as Naruto flinched.
When Naruto looked up his blue eyes were wide and guileless and as welcoming as the summer sky.
Three years ago Gaara would have been fooled.
Three years ago Gaara wouldn't have cared.
This wasn't three years ago.
“That look doesn't suit you.” Gaara said quietly.
Naruto's face seemed to fall, then he became pensive. “Most people wouldn't have seen it.”
Gaara doesn't need to ask. He knows what Naruto means. He can't help but feel vindicated.
“You've changed, Gaara.” Naruto says after a few more minutes of quiet.
Gaara inclined his head. “I have precious people now.” Gaara states, as though that explains everything. To Naruto, it does.
Naruto smiles. This time it's real and Gaara feels dwarfed by it's brilliance. He wants to be able to smile like that.
“Precious people?” Naruto asks, then answers himself. “Your brother and sister. Right?”
Gaara nods.
“Good.”
Gaara can feel a question on the tip of his tongue. Where are your precious people, Naruto? But he can't bring himself to ask. Something made Naruto change, but somehow he gets the feeling that Naruto has managed to hide the changes from everyone.
He wonders if he should feel this...pleased, that Naruto is letting him see behind his smiles.
“So. Why did you come here?” Naruto asks, after taking another sip of his now cool tea.
Gaara shrugs. “I like to travel.” He pauses, uncertain about something. Naruto just waits patiently and Gaara doesn't know if he feels pleased by his patience, or un-nerved by his unusual behaviour.
Naruto looks wistful. “I like to travel too.”
“Why can't you?” Gaara asks. Naruto is a good ninja, and loyal to Konoha. All shinobi get periods of time off, and Naruto, as a Chuunin, should have had a good amount of free time in-between missions.
Naruto just shrugs his shoulders then lets them drop, refusing to meet Gaara's eyes.
“Naruto.” Gaara's tone is dark. He knows he's missing something.
Naruto lifts his head, but refuses to meet Gaara's sharply assessing eyes. “I'm not allowed out of the village without an escort of Chuunin or higher including, but not excepting all team missions.” Naruto states flatly. “It's for my own safety, since the Akatsuki are still after me.”
Gaara snorts. “Bullshit.”
Naruto's head flashes back so fast Gaara thinks Naruto may have concussed himself. “What?!” He chokes out in a strangled voice.
Gaara smiles. Naruto looks like he ate a particularly sour lemon.
“The Akatsuki can get you any time, any place, and not even a team of elite ANBU would be able to stop them.” Gaara says, his voice brooking no arguments. He doesn't like it when Naruto seems to curl into himself, as though this isn't new to him.
“What's the real reason?” Gaara asks.
“The Council are getting pissy.” Naruto finally replies, seemingly undisturbed at sharing private news with a shinobi not from his village.
“Why?”
Naruto studies Gaara for a while, staring at him as though looking for something. He sighs eventually, then strips off the top half of his clothes.
There's a red glow coming from Naruto's navel, and Gaara realises this is the seal the Kyuubi is behind. The skin around Naruto's stomach seems paler against the warm light constantly being emitted. The seal itself is a good five inches across, it spreads out two and a half inches from his navel in a circle and is made from a spiral covered with an intricate interwoven pattern. It looks extremely complex and was obviously designed by a master.
“The Kyuubi?”
Naruto nods. “Yeah. The Council are insisting that the fox is going to break out at any time. I think they want me close so they can assassinate me. Tsunade-baa-chan is the only thing stopping them.”
“The Hokage?”
“Yeah. She's sort of adopted me as a little brother, but even she can't rescind the rules the Council laid down.” Naruto looks angry for a moment, then just...sad. “I can't keep going like this. Pretty soon I'm not going to be able to make enough money to afford to keep myself. I'm lucky that old man Sandaime paid for the apartment for me...but I still have to eat.”
When Naruto laughs this time it's brittle and fed up. “I think they're planning on killing me slowly.”
“What about your friends?” Gaara knows Naruto has a tendency of making friends easily, and usually surprisingly loyal ones. Gaara includes himself in them.
“I'm not going to beg for help.” Naruto's face reddens, out of embarrassment, not anger.
“Aa.” Gaara knows when Naruto says it. He would just quietly expire rather than burden his friends.
“You're stupid.” Gaara states.
“What?” Naruto pales, then goes almost purple.
Gaara pours himself some tea, heating it with his chakra. “You're stupid,” he says again, taking a sip of the now hot tea.
“I – you – wha...” Naruto deflates and runs a hand tiredly through his blonde spikes. “I give up. There's no making any heads or tails with you, is there?”
Gaara sits back on the cushion a bit further. He props his arm up on one raised knee and stares at Naruto with narrowed eyes. “I used to be jealous of you,” he says finally.
Naruto blinks at him, his forehead scrunching up at the sudden change in topic. “Eh?”
“I thought I was unbeatable. You defeated me. At first I was angry, but you said that you fought for your precious people.” Gaara paused, weighing his words. “I lived only for myself. Loved only myself. I thought that was the only way to stay strong.” Gaara frowned, gazing into his cup. “You shattered everything I thought I knew.”
“I'm...sorry?” Naruto looked confused.
Gaara shook his head. “That's not what I mean. You've had a past as bad as I, and yet you went out and tried to make it better. You made friends, comrades and allies. I made enemies. I couldn't figure you out. I still can't. You're the only person I feel like I can talk too...even my siblings don't stay around me long enough to carry on a conversation...and there's always the scent of fear around them.”
Gaara looked up, pinning Naruto with his cool green gaze. “You don't fear me.”
“I don't?” Naruto thought about this. “I guess...after our fight, you just didn't seem so terrible.”
“Yet every time we met before that battle you were so terrified you couldn't move.” Gaara said slowly. “Even during our battle, you were unable to do anything but shake until I hurt your friends.”
“Then...”
“You were not afraid as long as you were fighting for another. You didn't care about yourself. That's why you aren't scared now. You know you can fight me, and probably win. You have no one around that I can hurt to make you back off, and even if I did, you would only fight harder to save them.”
Naruto snorted then looked away, crossing his arms. “You make it sound like I don't give a shit about myself.”
Gaara sent a piercingly even look at him. “Do you?”
Naruto stood up so fast he knocked over his cold cup of tea. He retreated back to his small kitchenette and paced back and forth, muttering quiet obscenities.
Gaara just sipped his own drink again, ignoring the burn of Naruto's eyes on him.
“I don't know what the hell your problem is Gaara, but I sure as hell don't need you preaching to me about caring for yourself, or have you forgotten how you lived, eh?”
“At least I made the effort to change. You're just giving up, aren't you?” Gaara raised his head and slanted a condescending flicker and then dismissal with his eyes towards Naruto. “Uzumaki Naruto, the most determined shinobi of the Leaf...a quitter,” Gaara scoffed.
“Fuck you.” Naruto ground out, the words sticking in his throat. “I should rip your fucking entrails out of your body and dance on them.”
Gaara snorted loudly. “Oh? Are you planning on taking my place? Planning on becoming a true monster?”
Naruto ground his jaw and clenched his hands so hard the skin of his palms split under his suddenly sharpening nails. The wounds healed seconds after they formed, leaving only the few drops of blood that escaped a testament to his anger. “I am not a monster.”
“Tell me, Naruto, just how accurate are the Council? Is the Kyuubi influencing your actions? How much of it's rage are you experiencing? How much of it's lust, it's thirst for destruction, for blood? How long have you been trying to suppress it's instincts?”
“I have no idea what you mean.” Naruto said flatly. “Not that it's any of your business. I don't owe you anything.”
“No, you don't, do you?” Gaara mused.
“Dammit Gaara! What the hell do you want from me? What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you how fucked up I am? I already know it! I know I go around shouting about friendship and loving people and wanting to help everyone...but that I can't accept help for myself! I already know this!”
Naruto looked away, his hands coming up to slowly stroke the Leaf hitae-ate on his forehead. Naruto untied it slowly, bringing it down and staring at the slightly knocked metal.
Naruto's voice lowered, a note of sorrow threading through it. “I know I'm quick to offer help, but never one to accept it. I never had much of a choice, Gaara. If I dared ask for help when I was younger it always made things worse. The villagers, they – they could smell weakness, they knew without saying anything to each other how they could hurt me. If I dared ask for help...every time...I always lived to regret it. Old habits die hard.”
“That was then, Naruto. You were young. Weak. Alone. Are you still that child?” Gaara asked quietly.
“No. Not that it matters. I'll make my way on my own strength. I'll help myself and not go scrounging from other people. I have to be strong, Gaara! Admitting that I can't make enough money to eat, admitting that I'm less than human...I can't do that Gaara. My friends, they're the only ones who haven't looked at me with cold eyes, eyes that scream out with hatred and fear. I can't give them up. I can't!”
“You are an absolute fool, Naruto! You have what I'd give my right arm for! You have people who would worry about you if you'd let them, you have people who care for you, people who would love to be a part of your life – if you would let them in!”
“I can't!”
“You're scared!” Gaara shouted, his voice becoming shrill. “You're terrified and you're stupid and you're going to end up dead and alone from something idiotic! You're not worthy of becoming Hokage Naruto. You don't fucking deserve it!”
“You're a fucking bastard, you know that?” Naruto snarled, his back to Gaara, his fists clenched so hard his nails started to pierce the skin.
Gaara's eyes darkened. “YOU made me this way, Uzumaki Naruto. Because of you I had to find out who and what I was all over again. Because of you I have no peace. Because of you! I can't talk to anyone because they are terrified of me, and I never used to care about that, but you had to fucking damn well shred me apart!”
Small grains of sand began to form in the air, circling Gaara, who stood slowly, his tea placed gently on the floor.
Naruto backed up a step, a blue glow interspersed with red flickering around him.
“Why did you come here then if you hate me so much?” Naruto ground out, his every muscle tensed from Gaara's unintentional display. Even without his gourd, Gaara was dangerous.
“I thought you could understand me. I thought you could help me.” Gaara said, still standing on the other side of the room.
“How?” This time, when he spoke, Naruto seemed lost. The glow around him intensified, slowly turning a soothing violet – if you ignored the restrained violence it represented. “I can't even help myself.”
“Naruto. Where are your precious people?”
::
Gaara stood before the Hokage. The deceptively young-looking blonde woman scanned him with sharp amber eyes before motioning for him to sit down opposite her desk. The Hokage, Tsunade was over fifty years old and one of the Legendary Three Sannin of Konoha, yet she didn't look a day over twenty. It was said she could heal any wound with her medical skills and her strength was so monstrous she could split a mountain in half with a single punch.
Whether the rumors were true or not remained to be seen, and Gaara wasn't dumb enough to pit himself against her.
Tsunade sat back in her chair and leveled a cautiously blank stare towards the redheaded boy opposite her. Gaara just stared at her with his cool aqua eyes, his face a blank mask. He'd been called in to see the Hokage after a team of ANBU had been dispatched to find out who or what was behind the frighteningly large chakra felt in the center of Konoha.
Gaara had gone peacefully, partially glad to get away from the broken look in Naruto's blue eyes. He couldn't understand what it was about the blonde that made him so emotional, that made him so quick to snap and lose his temper. Whatever it was, Gaara didn't want to face finding out just yet.
“Do you know why you were summoned here?”
Gaara stared, before shrugging his shoulders and looking away.
“Is there any particular reason for the presence of a Sand shinobi here in Konoha?” Tsunade asked eventually, steepling her hands on the desk before her, the tips of her fingers just brushing her chin. “Are you here to deliver a message? Maybe trade? Or are you trying to...scout?”
Gaara didn't answer.
“Look, Gaara, I don't have a problem with you being here...but I do have a responsibility to this village. I need to know why you're here. Why there was a sudden and very large amount of chakra suddenly released in the middle of the town.” Tsunade sighed.
“Why is Naruto being confined?”
Tsunade eyes widened just enough for Gaara to catch. “What? Naruto? Naruto isn't being confined. Not that it's any of your business.”
Gaara's eyes were dark when he stared at her. “I know.”
“No. You don't.” Tsunade stated succinctly.
“Do you care about him? Do you worry about him?” Gaara asked, his voice emotionless, which for some reason sent a shiver down her spine. “Is he just another piece on your board?”
“You're stepping into dangerous territory, Sabaku no Gaara.” Tsunade warned, her eyes flashing amber for an instant. “It wouldn't take much to revoke your pass.”
“You would have to explain the reasons to the Kagekage.” Gaara pointed out. “You would place strain on the relations between the Sand and the Leaf simply for a few...questions?”
“I don't need to justify myself to you.” There was anger simmering in Tsunade's voice.
“What are you trying to hide? Or do you truly not know...?” Gaara found himself taking pleasure in the fact that he could hear the Hokage grind her teeth.
Tsunade stood and leant over her desk, her fists firmly planted on the thick wooden surface. “I don't know what your game is, nor do I truly care – but Naruto is none of your concern. Your questions are an insult. You are implying things which have no place here.”
“If you are innocent of any misdeeds, and you honestly don't know why... then I have to wonder, Hokage-sama; just how much are you aware of?” Gaara said blandly. “Of which implications do you speak? Are you...concerned, because I ask about Uzumaki Naruto...or it it truly the questions themselves which offend you?”
Gaara stood, and walked to the door. “I would suggest you find out about that which is important to you. You are on the brink of losing a treasure, Hokage-sama, a treasure which Konoha would suffer dearly without. We both know that the Chakra display was centered in the apartment of Uzumaki Naruto, and that it wasn't all his.”
Gaara turned slightly, just enough for Tsunade to glimpse the utter severity of his expression. “I came, because I was drawn to Konoha. I did not know why until I came across Naruto, and I don't honestly know why I wanted to stay, or why I will be leaving soon. I am willing to find out why. Are you so willing when it comes to your own?”
“Get out.” Tsunade hissed darkly.
Gaara left.
It was only after the redhead left that Tsunade wondered about the gourd that was missing from the teen's back.
::
Naruto was waiting outside when Gaara left the building. They walked in silence, the blonde shadowing Gaara's steps. They passed through the streets, filled with shoppers and vendors and people out taking advantage of the warm evening air. Gaara ignored them, taking pains to ensure no emotions showed on his face, even when bitter tongues lashed the youth beside him. He ignored the glares directed at Naruto, and the few centered on himself for daring to walk beside the outcast of the village.
No-one dared get to close, or to throw anything at Naruto, for which Gaara was grateful – he didn't really want to get blood on his hands in a village not of his own. For the most part, Naruto ignored them as well, hiding the flinches beneath wide vacuous smiles and dully open plastic blue eyes.
Gaara was suddenly reminded of Kankurou's painted dolls. Naruto looked like a doll. Lifeless but mimicking those around him. Invisible chakra strings controlling his movement and his expressions, painted on with the brush stroke of a master actor and artist.
Gaara wondered what what would happen if someone cut the strings. Or if they frayed beyond repair.
They didn't stop walking until they reached the meadow they'd fought in, a handful of hours earlier. The glass sphere was still intact, surrounded by a ring of blackened grass. Naruto looked vaguely apologetic when he saw the remains of Gaara's gourd. He alone knew how personal the sand it contained and was created from was.
Gaara placed a hand on the shimmering sphere. Even solid, as it was now, Gaara could still feel the essence of life contained within it, pulsing lightly for those sensitive enough to be able to see or feel it.
“Sorry.” Naruto said, breaking the silence.
Gaara glanced at him sideways, one hand still gently stroking the smooth domed side of the glass. “Why?”
Naruto shrugged. “I really wanted to try out that new jutsu, but I didn't think about what it would do to your sand.”
Gaara snorted, turning back to the sphere. “I like it.” And that was a surprise, because when he said it Gaara realised that he did like it. It was something he could place in his special treasure room, something unique and his. Gaara knew he wasn't going to tell Naruto that though...that was just...too much information. Personal information. What would he say anyway? 'Thank you for partially creating a gift for me?', no. That would mean revealing too much about himself underneath his carefully created outer persona.
Naruto's eyes were slightly more open than before, the dullness a bit less than earlier. “Really?” he asked, doubt lacing his voice.
“I can make more sand.” Gaara said then, wondering why he was bothering to explain.
“Oh.” Naruto scrunched his face up. “But it's not the same, is it? I mean...well...you know, you've been feeding that sand and taking care of it and it's kind of – alive.”
Naruto paused. “I'm making it sound like a pet, aren't I?”
Gaara felt amused. “Just a little bit.”
Naruto looked uncomfortable. “This new sand you can get...make...whatever, it's not going to be quite the same, it it?”
Gaara thought about it for a while, Naruto looking a little bit more uncomfortable and a smidgeon...forlorn? With each passing moment. “It won't be as powerful.” Gaara stated eventually. “Maybe not as fast. But I can get it back to full strength after a few missions.”
Naruto's face contorted into a weird expression, even for him. “But you could get hurt, right? Because that other sand of yours, you've been feeding it all your life.”
“I guess I should have been quicker on my feet then.” Gaara said, allowing a thread of amusement colour his tone. “I tend to rely on one defense a lot when I'm fighting. If anything, your display showed me I really need to start practicing some other moves.”
Gaara patted the glass before walking away, stopping when he was in the center of the ravaged meadow. He could feel Naruto's eyes on him as he concentrated on pooling his chakra underneath the surface of the soil, a good depth down, searching for the necessary minerals needed to create his own sand. The Fire Country was especially good for this sort of thing. Stone Country came close, but they mined a lot and too many mineral-rich veins were destroyed regularly. When Gaara delved into the earth he could feel the missing pieces. No, Fire Country was definitely the best for recovering and creating sand. It was always best when dried out in his own Wind Country, but the first process was the most vital.
It took effort, and chakra, a helluva damn ton of chakra to filter through the soil, much less compress and sear it into something approaching pure sand. Then it had to be cleaned – an odd concept considering how he usually tended to it – and refined. That was only the beginning. The entire process would only take around two to three minutes for crude sand, but for the kind Gaara was after, the process could take anywhere up to three or four hours.
Sweat beaded and ran down Gaara's skin, across tensed and straining muscles and shivering limbs.
Naruto had no idea how much Gaara trusted him to watch his back. He was completely defenseless like this, at the mercy of any aspiring enemy shinobi and in an outside village to boot.
Maybe Naruto would never know. But to Gaara, this was a way of saying he was a friend.
You don't kill friends.
The stars were out, twinkling in the clear night sky by the time Gaara finished and had his gourd reformed on his back. It was a pale gold, quite different from the rich bronzed red-gold it had been before.
Gaara felt relieved at the burden on his back. It was a familiar and welcome feeling, if different from before.
“Is that...It? The gourd?” Naruto asked.
“Yes.”
Naruto frowned at him – no, at the gourd. “It doesn't look right, or feel right. It seems...lighter. Not as menacing.”
Gaara stared at him. “It's weak. There's no presence in it yet. Once mother feeds for a while her strength will fill it.”
Naruto shuddered. “That's just creepy. Calling Shukaku 'Mother'.”
Gaara blinked, although that seemed to happen in slow motion he was so tired. “I do not call Shukaku 'Mother'. My mother is in both of us. She was the first offering of blood.” Gaara clenched his fists and looked away, and Naruto could see he hadn't meant to tell even that much.
“Sorry. I didn't know.”
“I shouldn't have said anything.”
Naruto stepped forwards, his hand hovering, but not quite daring to touch the sand gourd. “It's hungry, isn't it?”
Gaara shrugged. “A bit. I'll find a few animals on the way back to Sunagakure that'll keep it satisfied.”
Naruto nodded absently, still staring fixedly at the pale sand. He seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and then smiled at Gaara, pulling out a kunai and slicing open his palm with one deft stroke until the bone showed. Before Gaara could react Naruto pressed his hand against the sand, hissing when he felt the sand pull at the skin, absorbing the blood as fast as it poured out.
Gaara froze, a look of confusion and...pleasure...encompassing his usually stoic face. Naruto was a creature of power, of pure energy, and the sheer amount of that energy, of that massive power flooding into his sand, and him, was unbelievable.
The intense potency of that charge of chakra that Naruto fed to him, and to his sand and ultimately Shukaku defied comprehension. For a few minutes Gaara was unable to think, to speak, to do anything other than ride the heady waves of power that Naruto gave through his shed blood.
There was a soft cry of pain, but Gaara couldn't move. Eventually coherency returned, along with his wits and thought processes. But the rush stayed with him. Everything felt lighter, and Gaara felt that he was connected not only to the earth beneath him, which was usual for him, but to the very air itself, to every blade of grass, to every tree, every flower and each and every living particle in a sixty mile radius. A small part of his brain that wasn't fried wondered if this was how Naruto felt all the time. If it was, there was no wonder he hated hurting people.
The implications of that thought faded under the onslaught and aftermath of the rush of Naruto's gift.
The feeling slowly faded, leaving him in his own skin with his usual level of perception, including the many miles of dirt beneath his sandaled feet.
Naruto was on his knees beside him, his forehead pressed against the soil. He was cradling his arm, so white it seemed like bleached bone. There was a terrible wound spitting open his palm, but no blood came out. His muscles were exposed, bones and tendons gleaming horribly in the clear moonlight.
“Naruto...” Gaara whispered softly, falling to his knees beside Naruto. “What did you do, Naruto?”
Naruto gave a shaky laugh, his body trembling with the force of it. “S-sorry. Just, j-just wan-wanted to help.”
Gaara had to strain to hear Naruto's faint voice. He scrubbed at his forehead. “Shouldn't that have healed by now?” he asked.
Naruto didn't answer him, but Gaara knew he was right. “Shit.” He tugged at the excess fabric he had wound around his waist as a decorative belt, wrapping the red-brown fabric gently around Naruto's hand, pressing the edges of the wound closed as he bound it up.
“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Gaara asked, frowning when he realised he still couldn't see any colour returning to Naruto's exposed white arm.
Naruto raised his head just enough to shake it in the negative, before accepting Gaara's assistance to stand. He swayed on his feet and looked as terrible as Gaara knew he must feel. His skin was pale, too pale beneath his tan, his eyes looked pained and he held himself like a wounded animal.
“Just...get me h-home, Gaara. Please.”
Gaara nodded, and without having to even think about it, the sand stirred, fairly vibrating with the force of it's own energy, excitement seeping through into Gaara's blood as it rose and encompassed both Gaara and Naruto, turning in on itself as Gaara commanded it to transport them both safely to Naruto's apartment.
The sand held Naruto upright while Gaara moved him to the bed. Naruto was unconscious, and Gaara stared at him, wondering about what he'd said earlier. Naruto was really acting as though he held no worth beyond that which he could give to others. Naruto had always held a self-sacrificing streak when it came to his friends, and an extremely strong innate sense of self-preservation and survival when it came to his own well-being.
At least, he had three years ago.
Gaara was nothing if not thorough, and his investigation into Naruto's life was no exception. He knew everything about him from just after birth until recently. Not so much with his personal relations, but the actual cold hard facts of his life. Gaara couldn't say who his friends were, but he could speculate...unlike his statistics.
So Gaara knew about Naruto's placement in an orphanage when he was a baby, with no parents to speak of. People had wondered if Naruto even had parents, and some still believed that Naruto was the fox demon itself in human form.
Gaara had at least been cared for by his uncle Yashamaru. Never mind the fact that his uncle was the first person to try and kill him when he was six.
When Naruto was six he'd already been thrown out of the orphanage in secret, no-one wanting the then Hokage, the Sandaime, Sarutobi to know that they had removed the Kyuubi brat from their care. At six, Naruto had been living on the streets for nearly two years, the false reports on his care remaining a well kept secret at the orphanage.
It would have stayed a secret if Naruto hadn't almost starved and died, the beating he'd received for stealing some food from a stall was what brought him and his distinct lack of care to the Sandaime's attention.
The Hokage had gifted the six year old Naruto with his own small apartment, basically fitted, the same one Naruto lived in now. It was deeded in Naruto's name, and until his death three years earlier the Sandaime had also paid for Naruto's other basic bills, water, electric and general maintenance, no-one in the village being willing to hire Naruto because of his burden.
Was it any wonder Naruto spent his entire life surviving on ramen? It was cheap, filling and hot, and he could use his small allowance to keep himself fed.
Gaara just took what he wanted. As the son of the Kazekage he was Suna royalty, and he'd learnt early on how to care for himself. His uncle at least had been good for something.
Gaara had his own suspicions about Naruto's origins. He knew it was very likely that he would become the next Kazekage, and he'd been groomed for that position from birth to the age of six, his shinobi training facilitating the rest. He'd seen pictures of the Yondaime and he looked exactly like Naruto, older definitely, and without the distinctive whisker scars, but otherwise he looked just like Naruto.
The same Yondaime which sealed the fox demon inside Naruto.
The same Yondaime who was known as Konoha's Yellow Flash.
The same Yondaime which created the powerful Rasengan technique which is so impossibly hard to learn that only the Yondaime's mentor had ever managed to learn it off his own pupil.
Until Naruto came along and learned it, mastering the technique which took the Yondaime three years to master in under a week.
There were more coincidences, like the Yondaime's mentor, the great Toad Sannin of Konoha, teaching and training Naruto because of rumors that Jiraiya saw his now dead apprentice in Naruto.
Gaara wondered how Konoha would react if they knew they were treating their own royal sacrifice like a diseased cur.
He didn't find the thought funny.
Gaara knew about the secret training Naruto put himself through, but not about the scrolls. Finding out about Naruto's basic past had raised demons – figuratively speaking – from his own. Gaara found himself remembering the many sleepless nights, terrified out of his mind that he was going to fall asleep and get eaten by the demon within him. The demon he'd called mother.
Gaara understood Naruto's need to train in secret, the need to preserve his own sanity by wearing a mask over his own personality. The need was rooted in a desperate bid for safety, the overwhelming urge to protect oneself in order to live.
Gaara knew about the beatings that Naruto went through before becoming a shinobi. He'd had no control over his chakra, had no idea of how to call it out. The Kyuubi seal was too new, too strong for Naruto to access.
Naruto had been helpless. He hadn't had Gaara's sand defense. Hadn't had anyone to protect him, to look after his health. From the ages of six through ten Naruto had been in hospital two hundred and seven times. Each time he'd been discharged within two hours. Yet the hospital kept no medical records for him.
Gaara's informant had been extremely thorough and the only proof of Naruto's mistreatment had been in the sealed files in the Hokage's office.
No matter the severity of Naruto's injuries, the Hospital had found some way of removing Naruto from their premises. Gaara wondered how many times Naruto gained injuries for going to the Hospital.
Reading the files had made Gaara sick.
He'd thought his father was bad.
Gaara had never been wounded, had never unwillingly shed any blood until he was twelve years old, until the Chuunin examination held in Konohagakure. He'd wondered if he was real so many times. Unable to feel physical pain, he hadn't known how much it could hurt, how much it could tear you up inside.
Even the night he and the sand had tattooed the kanji for 'Love' into his forehead he'd been in so much pain from Yashamaru's betrayal that he hadn't felt a thing.
Sometimes he thought Naruto had been lucky to know he was alive. To know he was real. To know he was flesh and blood and still human on the outside. At other times he was glad he had been protected by his sand.
When he'd read Naruto's files he'd felt an overwhelming kinship with him, both of them had been misused, one being battered and beaten on the outside, one being tortured and hurt on the inside.
Both of them had had years to mold a working mask over themselves. Naruto's mask though, his mask was breaking.
Gaara never thought he'd feel so protective of him. In a way, he supposed it was much like the way he felt towards his siblings, although the care he felt for them was shadowed with guilt over the way he'd treated them before Naruto had literally beaten sense into him.
Maybe it was time to return the favour.
Gaara stared down at Naruto's sleeping form. He knew that Naruto was slightly older than him by maybe a month or two, but he honestly felt like he was the elder one and Naruto was the younger brother he'd never had.
Looking at Naruto's crumpled body on the small bed, it was easy to understand why. Naruto seemed so...breakable...frail, completely at odds with his usual guise.
Gaara frowned. Feeling like these were too new, too uncomfortable to think about. They were confusing.
Gaara pulled off Naruto's sandals and tugged the duvet up from under his feet, covering him up to his neck. He untied the hitae-ate and placed it gently on the bedside table, in front of the pictures. He checked the wound, and Naruto's arm, glad when he saw that his skin was approaching something approximating normal colour and the gentle crimson glow seeping out through the fabric signified that the wound was healing.
Calling the sand back to him, Gaara left.
::
Gaara hides his gifts in his underground treasure room – it's over a month until Kankurou's birthday and a little over six until Temari's.
No-one dares to ask where Gaara went to, nor do they comment when he eats, washes himself and his clothes and then leaves.
It's a two week walk for most people to get to Konohagakure, the Hidden Village of the Leaf, a good shinobi can get there after a week of constant, relentless travel. At full speed it would still take a shinobi three days. Gaara gets there in four days. He only walks.
His pass provided by the Kazekage gets him in with no delays or problems, although he is asked to meet with the Hokage the next day, if he decides to stay.
Not much has changed in the two years since he was last in Konoha. Everything is just as the name implies. The Leaf. Houses are mismatched and built in odd shapes, like trees growing closely together.
Massive natural trees, older than Konoha itself are all over the place, some with buildings built into them. Electrical wires streak through the spaces between the many structures, and at odd points there are balconies, signs and even on some, seemingly inaccessible roofs, tables.
It's easy to tell this is a shinobi village. Not many places have parks or picnic spots in places where you have to be capable of walking up walls, or balancing perfectly across long streams of wires in order to access them.
Gaara finds the place refreshing, if not a bit hectic.
There's almost no sign that Konoha is recovering from a major invasion, one that occurred less than four years ago. One in which Gaara himself attacked from the opposing side.
Sunagakure and Konohagakure are allies now, formed out of a combined need. The Sand were tricked into their alliance with Konoha's enemy, and Konoha didn't have the resources at the time to attack the Sand.
But it's an alliance that seems to have served both parties well.
Gaara walks through the streets, ignoring the mutters of the few people who knew who he was. They didn't matter. More people have no idea of who he is see the Sand hitae-ate and look on in curiosity, but that he doesn't mind. When evening starts to fall Gaara finds a place to rest. The hotel is used to catering to visiting shinobi and is on the outskirts of one of the quieter neighborhoods. They offer privacy and a whole host of relaxing amenities, including a private bath with each room.
Konoha lights up in the early night. There are lamps, lanterns in pretty shapes and candles glowing softly in the open windows of the restaurants and small scattered yattai style bars/eating areas. Gaara understands why so many people like Konoha, it feels warm, cozy, welcoming.
Gaara really doesn't know why he came here.
There isn't much for Gaara to do here. He doesn't like games, or dancing, or drinking, and much of Konoha's evening life is socially-orientated.
Gaara wonders, unsure of what motivated him to return here, until he spots a familiar blonde head.
The younger members of the crowd mostly ignore the blonde, although quite a few of the older people, those around sixteen years ago mutter obscenities at him and glare viciously. Gaara has good hearing, and it feels strange not to have those insults hurled at himself.
A few of the braver folks throw things, or try to trip the small blonde up, but he ignores them and simply smiles widely, warmly, as though he believes that none of the hatred is aimed at him.
When he gets closer Gaara can make out the tanned skin, a deceptively slender frame under an atrociously loud orange outfit and then, when the blonde gets closer still, the hauntingly blue eyes that Gaara still can't forget.
Gaara would never admit it, but Uzumaki Naruto is stronger than him.
Naruto doesn't take advantage of his strength.
Gaara wants to understand why.
He can still remember Naruto's aura, his normally blue chakra a deep terrifying crimson, burning around him in a living flame, his previously blue eyes slitted and a dark ruby red. The whiskers on his cheeks were blackish gouges scarring his face and his entire countenance seemed more animalistic than human, just as it always was when Naruto called forth the chakra of the Kyuubi sealed inside of him. The nine-tailed fox demon was one of the most powerful beings in creation and it is impossible to kill him. Konoha's fourth Hokage, their precious Yondaime was killed just to seal it inside Naruto.
Gaara can't help but feel...glad...knowing that he's not alone, that he's not the only monster in the world.
Naruto stops a few feet away from Gaara and tilts his head to one side in curiosity. His face is open and shows every emotion. There's excitement, confusion, joy, and a fierce, deep hunger in his eyes.
Gaara recognises it. The desire to fight against a worthy opponent.
Gaara wonders why though, why Naruto is so quiet. He knows the blonde is the self-proclaimed loudest ninja of the Leaf, a claim that everyone he knew agreed with, hell, even by reputation Uzumaki Naruto was known as the number one most annoying, loud and unpredictable ninja of the Leaf.
He was also unspoken of as one of the most dangerous. Not because he could fight better, or had more training, but because he was the demon-child of Konohagakure.
The demon-child who could destroy the world in a bath of fire and lava.
They didn't understand. Gaara did, and he barely knew Naruto. He'd made a point of finding out everything he could about Naruto, trying to find out why Naruto could live the way he did, how he could live without mindless slaughter, how he could befriend people and care for them...if Gaara himself could do the same.
Naruto cared too much for everyone. Even those that hated him, reviled him, abused him unmercifully. Where Gaara killed those who dared to hurt him, Naruto simply accepted it as his burden.
It was beyond Gaara's ken.
But Gaara wanted to understand.
So, when Naruto started walking, and threw a look over one shoulder as though to ask why Gaara wasn't following, Gaara followed. Naruto led them both a long way into the surrounding woods before stopping in a large meadow. He took off his bright orange jacket and took a fighting stance.
Gaara smiled. This he understood.
::
Gaara crossed his arms as his took in his opponent. It had been a long, long time – too long in fact, since he'd felt this sense of anticipation. Of all the enemies and allies he'd ever fought, only four people had drawn blood, and only one person in existence had managed to ever defeat him. Not even Orochimaru's subordinate had managed that, nor the Uchiha prodigy.
But the outcast demon-boy who loved with all his being, who fought with every last fragment of himself, Uzumaki Naruto, had managed to completely wipe him out, even though Gaara had freely allowed Shukaku complete control of his true form for their battle.
Now Naruto stood across from him in his garish bright orange trousers rolled up at the hem - something Gaara knew only too well since they were both the same height, although he'd learnt to slice off the excess fabric with a sharp kunai before binding his lower half of his legs with bandages – a black short-sleeved t-shirt and his hitae-ate tied to his head with black fabric.
If it weren't for the bandage lined weapons pouches and forehead protector he could have passed for a normal civilian.
Naruto grinned at him and dashed forward, his hands flashing in seals too fast for any ordinary person to see and suddenly there were nearly fifty extra Naruto shadow clones on the field, charging from every direction.
Gaara felt like smiling. This at least was predictable.
The sand whipped to and fro, dispatching the clones with ease. Gaara knew that this was Naruto's way of testing Gaara's growth over the past few years, but Gaara didn't mind, his blood was singing in his veins and he could feel Shukaku's excitement.
A flicker of red caught Gaara's eye and he turned just in time to prevent a chakra-lined fist from landing, swiveling on one heel to avoid the sudden kick that was behind Naruto's feint.
The sand swept up, but Naruto was gone again, lost in the sea of look-a-likes.
Gaara kept his eyes on those clones closest to him, each one wearing the same cheeky smirk-slash-smile-slash-grin on their whisker-marked faces. Ten rushed in suddenly, each pulling out a weapon. Tiny shuriken, larger sharp kunai and even a few glitteringly pointed senbon flew towards Gaara's position.
Gaara's sand came up again to block the projectiles. Gaara turned away to scan the field when a handful of the shuriken disappeared with a puff of smoke and another clone took it's place, throwing another weapon. Two clones came in low from the other side and Gaara caught sight of Naruto, a massive 'You're done for now!' look on him and a huge scroll in his hands.
Gaara's eyes widened. He brought the sand up in an impenetrable sphere around himself just as Naruto slashed open his palm and swept his bloodied hand over the center of the scroll. He couldn't see what happened next, but the heat that suddenly surrounded him made him choke on the air inside the sand...which was slowly turning a murky opaque colour, as though it was melting!
Gaara used his transportation technique to get out of the sphere, his eyes opening wide in disbelief as he watched from the safety of one of the trees lining the meadow as a dark black fire slowly consumes his sand sphere transforming it into a solid bubble of lightly opalescent glass.
Naruto sat off to one side, looking exhausted which was exactly how Gaara felt after losing so much chakra-infused sand, but with a smile on his face as he felt Gaara's chakra move from inside the sphere to safely.
Naruto gave him a short wave before he disappeared in a swirl of wind and leaves, only to appear next to Gaara.
His smile said it all.
Gaara didn't know what to think. That move could have killed him if he'd stayed inside his sand, and now that he didn't have his shield he was vulnerable to any physical attack Naruto could throw at him.
When Naruto didn't attack him, Gaara relaxed.
When Naruto spoke, Gaara didn't know if he wanted to run, or smack the blonde.
::
Naruto's apartment is small and more of a bedsit than anything else. Every available space is taken up with little houseplants and a few sparse items which speak volumes of Naruto's personality. There's a huge poster of the Leaf insignia over Naruto's bed, and a calender opposite his table, the only decorations covering the bare walls.
The only furniture in the place beside the kitchenette is a bed, a bedside table, a small dresser, a small wardrobe and a table big enough for two people with two wooden chairs – and many erratically placed whimsical little shelves dotting the bare walls.
Gaara would have wondered about where Naruto entertained guests if he'd been anyone else – or if his eyes hadn't caught the numerous scrubbed ink stains on the open area of the floor. Naruto obviously studied and worked harder than most people thought. His own sources stated that Naruto trained extensively in the outside fields, but lacked any note-worthy book or scroll instruction.
Gaara tries not to think about what else isn't known about Naruto. How many more secrets he holds.
A small doll rests on the windowsill beside Naruto's bed, a doll that looks very familiar. Gaara frowns when he stares at it, wondering why the man who taught Uchiha Sasuke to counter Gaara's moves would be represented in a cute, obviously hand-made plushie doll. If the man had been Naruto's Team instructor, Naruto would have been training with him and the Uchiha prodigy.
When Gaara finds the pictures beside Naruto's bed he understands.
Naruto was betrayed twice. Where the renowned Uchiha prodigy had personal tutoring by their supposed instructor, Naruto found his own way to become strong. Naruto defeated the infamous Sabaku no Gaara, where not even the Uchiha could do more than annoy and wound insignificantly.
Naruto is dangerous, and obviously determined as well as strong. Gaara is pleased.
When Gaara has taken in all of the small apartment, he joins Naruto in the kitchen area and watches as Naruto makes a tray of green tea. He finds it funny when Naruto scowls angrily at the water when it burns him, then at the powdered tea when he drops a bit too much and it spills, then as he accidentally knocks the cups and the tray almost overturns.
It's hard to reconcile the terrifyingly powerful shinobi with the clumsy boy in the kitchen trying to make tea. Gaara can tell Naruto doesn't get many guests.
When the tea is done, Naruto carries it to the open space on the floor and places it down carefully, motioning for Gaara to stay where he was. When Naruto reaches under his bed and pulls out two comfy-looking floor cushions and places them at opposite sides of the tray, Gaara stares. Both of them are made from mismatched pieces of fabric, and should have looked terrible with all the bright oranges, yellows and reds, but somehow they looked...inviting. In the center of each cushion, in a slightly darker coloured red, lined with multi-coloured blue thread, was a single spiral, obviously sewn in carefully, the same spiral that Naruto added to all of his clothes.
Gaara doesn't know if it would be rude to ask, but he wonders then if Naruto made his own clothes too. He certainly hasn't ever seen anywhere sell clothes quite like the ones Naruto wears. The t-shirts and regular ninja sandals are normal enough though, and Gaara decides not to ask. He doesn't like it when people try to pry into his life, so he won't do it to someone he wants as a friend.
Naruto pours out the tea and they sit in silence as they both drink it, Gaara watching Naruto as he sits there, staring into the pale green liquid as though contemplating the universe.
A strange look of consternation comes over Gaara's face after an hour and a half of complete silence. As nice as it is to not feel pressured into having to speak, this quiet didn't suit the usually loud-mouthed ninja.
Gaara spoke first. “Uzumaki Naruto.” He watched as Naruto flinched.
When Naruto looked up his blue eyes were wide and guileless and as welcoming as the summer sky.
Three years ago Gaara would have been fooled.
Three years ago Gaara wouldn't have cared.
This wasn't three years ago.
“That look doesn't suit you.” Gaara said quietly.
Naruto's face seemed to fall, then he became pensive. “Most people wouldn't have seen it.”
Gaara doesn't need to ask. He knows what Naruto means. He can't help but feel vindicated.
“You've changed, Gaara.” Naruto says after a few more minutes of quiet.
Gaara inclined his head. “I have precious people now.” Gaara states, as though that explains everything. To Naruto, it does.
Naruto smiles. This time it's real and Gaara feels dwarfed by it's brilliance. He wants to be able to smile like that.
“Precious people?” Naruto asks, then answers himself. “Your brother and sister. Right?”
Gaara nods.
“Good.”
Gaara can feel a question on the tip of his tongue. Where are your precious people, Naruto? But he can't bring himself to ask. Something made Naruto change, but somehow he gets the feeling that Naruto has managed to hide the changes from everyone.
He wonders if he should feel this...pleased, that Naruto is letting him see behind his smiles.
“So. Why did you come here?” Naruto asks, after taking another sip of his now cool tea.
Gaara shrugs. “I like to travel.” He pauses, uncertain about something. Naruto just waits patiently and Gaara doesn't know if he feels pleased by his patience, or un-nerved by his unusual behaviour.
Naruto looks wistful. “I like to travel too.”
“Why can't you?” Gaara asks. Naruto is a good ninja, and loyal to Konoha. All shinobi get periods of time off, and Naruto, as a Chuunin, should have had a good amount of free time in-between missions.
Naruto just shrugs his shoulders then lets them drop, refusing to meet Gaara's eyes.
“Naruto.” Gaara's tone is dark. He knows he's missing something.
Naruto lifts his head, but refuses to meet Gaara's sharply assessing eyes. “I'm not allowed out of the village without an escort of Chuunin or higher including, but not excepting all team missions.” Naruto states flatly. “It's for my own safety, since the Akatsuki are still after me.”
Gaara snorts. “Bullshit.”
Naruto's head flashes back so fast Gaara thinks Naruto may have concussed himself. “What?!” He chokes out in a strangled voice.
Gaara smiles. Naruto looks like he ate a particularly sour lemon.
“The Akatsuki can get you any time, any place, and not even a team of elite ANBU would be able to stop them.” Gaara says, his voice brooking no arguments. He doesn't like it when Naruto seems to curl into himself, as though this isn't new to him.
“What's the real reason?” Gaara asks.
“The Council are getting pissy.” Naruto finally replies, seemingly undisturbed at sharing private news with a shinobi not from his village.
“Why?”
Naruto studies Gaara for a while, staring at him as though looking for something. He sighs eventually, then strips off the top half of his clothes.
There's a red glow coming from Naruto's navel, and Gaara realises this is the seal the Kyuubi is behind. The skin around Naruto's stomach seems paler against the warm light constantly being emitted. The seal itself is a good five inches across, it spreads out two and a half inches from his navel in a circle and is made from a spiral covered with an intricate interwoven pattern. It looks extremely complex and was obviously designed by a master.
“The Kyuubi?”
Naruto nods. “Yeah. The Council are insisting that the fox is going to break out at any time. I think they want me close so they can assassinate me. Tsunade-baa-chan is the only thing stopping them.”
“The Hokage?”
“Yeah. She's sort of adopted me as a little brother, but even she can't rescind the rules the Council laid down.” Naruto looks angry for a moment, then just...sad. “I can't keep going like this. Pretty soon I'm not going to be able to make enough money to afford to keep myself. I'm lucky that old man Sandaime paid for the apartment for me...but I still have to eat.”
When Naruto laughs this time it's brittle and fed up. “I think they're planning on killing me slowly.”
“What about your friends?” Gaara knows Naruto has a tendency of making friends easily, and usually surprisingly loyal ones. Gaara includes himself in them.
“I'm not going to beg for help.” Naruto's face reddens, out of embarrassment, not anger.
“Aa.” Gaara knows when Naruto says it. He would just quietly expire rather than burden his friends.
“You're stupid.” Gaara states.
“What?” Naruto pales, then goes almost purple.
Gaara pours himself some tea, heating it with his chakra. “You're stupid,” he says again, taking a sip of the now hot tea.
“I – you – wha...” Naruto deflates and runs a hand tiredly through his blonde spikes. “I give up. There's no making any heads or tails with you, is there?”
Gaara sits back on the cushion a bit further. He props his arm up on one raised knee and stares at Naruto with narrowed eyes. “I used to be jealous of you,” he says finally.
Naruto blinks at him, his forehead scrunching up at the sudden change in topic. “Eh?”
“I thought I was unbeatable. You defeated me. At first I was angry, but you said that you fought for your precious people.” Gaara paused, weighing his words. “I lived only for myself. Loved only myself. I thought that was the only way to stay strong.” Gaara frowned, gazing into his cup. “You shattered everything I thought I knew.”
“I'm...sorry?” Naruto looked confused.
Gaara shook his head. “That's not what I mean. You've had a past as bad as I, and yet you went out and tried to make it better. You made friends, comrades and allies. I made enemies. I couldn't figure you out. I still can't. You're the only person I feel like I can talk too...even my siblings don't stay around me long enough to carry on a conversation...and there's always the scent of fear around them.”
Gaara looked up, pinning Naruto with his cool green gaze. “You don't fear me.”
“I don't?” Naruto thought about this. “I guess...after our fight, you just didn't seem so terrible.”
“Yet every time we met before that battle you were so terrified you couldn't move.” Gaara said slowly. “Even during our battle, you were unable to do anything but shake until I hurt your friends.”
“Then...”
“You were not afraid as long as you were fighting for another. You didn't care about yourself. That's why you aren't scared now. You know you can fight me, and probably win. You have no one around that I can hurt to make you back off, and even if I did, you would only fight harder to save them.”
Naruto snorted then looked away, crossing his arms. “You make it sound like I don't give a shit about myself.”
Gaara sent a piercingly even look at him. “Do you?”
Naruto stood up so fast he knocked over his cold cup of tea. He retreated back to his small kitchenette and paced back and forth, muttering quiet obscenities.
Gaara just sipped his own drink again, ignoring the burn of Naruto's eyes on him.
“I don't know what the hell your problem is Gaara, but I sure as hell don't need you preaching to me about caring for yourself, or have you forgotten how you lived, eh?”
“At least I made the effort to change. You're just giving up, aren't you?” Gaara raised his head and slanted a condescending flicker and then dismissal with his eyes towards Naruto. “Uzumaki Naruto, the most determined shinobi of the Leaf...a quitter,” Gaara scoffed.
“Fuck you.” Naruto ground out, the words sticking in his throat. “I should rip your fucking entrails out of your body and dance on them.”
Gaara snorted loudly. “Oh? Are you planning on taking my place? Planning on becoming a true monster?”
Naruto ground his jaw and clenched his hands so hard the skin of his palms split under his suddenly sharpening nails. The wounds healed seconds after they formed, leaving only the few drops of blood that escaped a testament to his anger. “I am not a monster.”
“Tell me, Naruto, just how accurate are the Council? Is the Kyuubi influencing your actions? How much of it's rage are you experiencing? How much of it's lust, it's thirst for destruction, for blood? How long have you been trying to suppress it's instincts?”
“I have no idea what you mean.” Naruto said flatly. “Not that it's any of your business. I don't owe you anything.”
“No, you don't, do you?” Gaara mused.
“Dammit Gaara! What the hell do you want from me? What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you how fucked up I am? I already know it! I know I go around shouting about friendship and loving people and wanting to help everyone...but that I can't accept help for myself! I already know this!”
Naruto looked away, his hands coming up to slowly stroke the Leaf hitae-ate on his forehead. Naruto untied it slowly, bringing it down and staring at the slightly knocked metal.
Naruto's voice lowered, a note of sorrow threading through it. “I know I'm quick to offer help, but never one to accept it. I never had much of a choice, Gaara. If I dared ask for help when I was younger it always made things worse. The villagers, they – they could smell weakness, they knew without saying anything to each other how they could hurt me. If I dared ask for help...every time...I always lived to regret it. Old habits die hard.”
“That was then, Naruto. You were young. Weak. Alone. Are you still that child?” Gaara asked quietly.
“No. Not that it matters. I'll make my way on my own strength. I'll help myself and not go scrounging from other people. I have to be strong, Gaara! Admitting that I can't make enough money to eat, admitting that I'm less than human...I can't do that Gaara. My friends, they're the only ones who haven't looked at me with cold eyes, eyes that scream out with hatred and fear. I can't give them up. I can't!”
“You are an absolute fool, Naruto! You have what I'd give my right arm for! You have people who would worry about you if you'd let them, you have people who care for you, people who would love to be a part of your life – if you would let them in!”
“I can't!”
“You're scared!” Gaara shouted, his voice becoming shrill. “You're terrified and you're stupid and you're going to end up dead and alone from something idiotic! You're not worthy of becoming Hokage Naruto. You don't fucking deserve it!”
“You're a fucking bastard, you know that?” Naruto snarled, his back to Gaara, his fists clenched so hard his nails started to pierce the skin.
Gaara's eyes darkened. “YOU made me this way, Uzumaki Naruto. Because of you I had to find out who and what I was all over again. Because of you I have no peace. Because of you! I can't talk to anyone because they are terrified of me, and I never used to care about that, but you had to fucking damn well shred me apart!”
Small grains of sand began to form in the air, circling Gaara, who stood slowly, his tea placed gently on the floor.
Naruto backed up a step, a blue glow interspersed with red flickering around him.
“Why did you come here then if you hate me so much?” Naruto ground out, his every muscle tensed from Gaara's unintentional display. Even without his gourd, Gaara was dangerous.
“I thought you could understand me. I thought you could help me.” Gaara said, still standing on the other side of the room.
“How?” This time, when he spoke, Naruto seemed lost. The glow around him intensified, slowly turning a soothing violet – if you ignored the restrained violence it represented. “I can't even help myself.”
“Naruto. Where are your precious people?”
::
Gaara stood before the Hokage. The deceptively young-looking blonde woman scanned him with sharp amber eyes before motioning for him to sit down opposite her desk. The Hokage, Tsunade was over fifty years old and one of the Legendary Three Sannin of Konoha, yet she didn't look a day over twenty. It was said she could heal any wound with her medical skills and her strength was so monstrous she could split a mountain in half with a single punch.
Whether the rumors were true or not remained to be seen, and Gaara wasn't dumb enough to pit himself against her.
Tsunade sat back in her chair and leveled a cautiously blank stare towards the redheaded boy opposite her. Gaara just stared at her with his cool aqua eyes, his face a blank mask. He'd been called in to see the Hokage after a team of ANBU had been dispatched to find out who or what was behind the frighteningly large chakra felt in the center of Konoha.
Gaara had gone peacefully, partially glad to get away from the broken look in Naruto's blue eyes. He couldn't understand what it was about the blonde that made him so emotional, that made him so quick to snap and lose his temper. Whatever it was, Gaara didn't want to face finding out just yet.
“Do you know why you were summoned here?”
Gaara stared, before shrugging his shoulders and looking away.
“Is there any particular reason for the presence of a Sand shinobi here in Konoha?” Tsunade asked eventually, steepling her hands on the desk before her, the tips of her fingers just brushing her chin. “Are you here to deliver a message? Maybe trade? Or are you trying to...scout?”
Gaara didn't answer.
“Look, Gaara, I don't have a problem with you being here...but I do have a responsibility to this village. I need to know why you're here. Why there was a sudden and very large amount of chakra suddenly released in the middle of the town.” Tsunade sighed.
“Why is Naruto being confined?”
Tsunade eyes widened just enough for Gaara to catch. “What? Naruto? Naruto isn't being confined. Not that it's any of your business.”
Gaara's eyes were dark when he stared at her. “I know.”
“No. You don't.” Tsunade stated succinctly.
“Do you care about him? Do you worry about him?” Gaara asked, his voice emotionless, which for some reason sent a shiver down her spine. “Is he just another piece on your board?”
“You're stepping into dangerous territory, Sabaku no Gaara.” Tsunade warned, her eyes flashing amber for an instant. “It wouldn't take much to revoke your pass.”
“You would have to explain the reasons to the Kagekage.” Gaara pointed out. “You would place strain on the relations between the Sand and the Leaf simply for a few...questions?”
“I don't need to justify myself to you.” There was anger simmering in Tsunade's voice.
“What are you trying to hide? Or do you truly not know...?” Gaara found himself taking pleasure in the fact that he could hear the Hokage grind her teeth.
Tsunade stood and leant over her desk, her fists firmly planted on the thick wooden surface. “I don't know what your game is, nor do I truly care – but Naruto is none of your concern. Your questions are an insult. You are implying things which have no place here.”
“If you are innocent of any misdeeds, and you honestly don't know why... then I have to wonder, Hokage-sama; just how much are you aware of?” Gaara said blandly. “Of which implications do you speak? Are you...concerned, because I ask about Uzumaki Naruto...or it it truly the questions themselves which offend you?”
Gaara stood, and walked to the door. “I would suggest you find out about that which is important to you. You are on the brink of losing a treasure, Hokage-sama, a treasure which Konoha would suffer dearly without. We both know that the Chakra display was centered in the apartment of Uzumaki Naruto, and that it wasn't all his.”
Gaara turned slightly, just enough for Tsunade to glimpse the utter severity of his expression. “I came, because I was drawn to Konoha. I did not know why until I came across Naruto, and I don't honestly know why I wanted to stay, or why I will be leaving soon. I am willing to find out why. Are you so willing when it comes to your own?”
“Get out.” Tsunade hissed darkly.
Gaara left.
It was only after the redhead left that Tsunade wondered about the gourd that was missing from the teen's back.
::
Naruto was waiting outside when Gaara left the building. They walked in silence, the blonde shadowing Gaara's steps. They passed through the streets, filled with shoppers and vendors and people out taking advantage of the warm evening air. Gaara ignored them, taking pains to ensure no emotions showed on his face, even when bitter tongues lashed the youth beside him. He ignored the glares directed at Naruto, and the few centered on himself for daring to walk beside the outcast of the village.
No-one dared get to close, or to throw anything at Naruto, for which Gaara was grateful – he didn't really want to get blood on his hands in a village not of his own. For the most part, Naruto ignored them as well, hiding the flinches beneath wide vacuous smiles and dully open plastic blue eyes.
Gaara was suddenly reminded of Kankurou's painted dolls. Naruto looked like a doll. Lifeless but mimicking those around him. Invisible chakra strings controlling his movement and his expressions, painted on with the brush stroke of a master actor and artist.
Gaara wondered what what would happen if someone cut the strings. Or if they frayed beyond repair.
They didn't stop walking until they reached the meadow they'd fought in, a handful of hours earlier. The glass sphere was still intact, surrounded by a ring of blackened grass. Naruto looked vaguely apologetic when he saw the remains of Gaara's gourd. He alone knew how personal the sand it contained and was created from was.
Gaara placed a hand on the shimmering sphere. Even solid, as it was now, Gaara could still feel the essence of life contained within it, pulsing lightly for those sensitive enough to be able to see or feel it.
“Sorry.” Naruto said, breaking the silence.
Gaara glanced at him sideways, one hand still gently stroking the smooth domed side of the glass. “Why?”
Naruto shrugged. “I really wanted to try out that new jutsu, but I didn't think about what it would do to your sand.”
Gaara snorted, turning back to the sphere. “I like it.” And that was a surprise, because when he said it Gaara realised that he did like it. It was something he could place in his special treasure room, something unique and his. Gaara knew he wasn't going to tell Naruto that though...that was just...too much information. Personal information. What would he say anyway? 'Thank you for partially creating a gift for me?', no. That would mean revealing too much about himself underneath his carefully created outer persona.
Naruto's eyes were slightly more open than before, the dullness a bit less than earlier. “Really?” he asked, doubt lacing his voice.
“I can make more sand.” Gaara said then, wondering why he was bothering to explain.
“Oh.” Naruto scrunched his face up. “But it's not the same, is it? I mean...well...you know, you've been feeding that sand and taking care of it and it's kind of – alive.”
Naruto paused. “I'm making it sound like a pet, aren't I?”
Gaara felt amused. “Just a little bit.”
Naruto looked uncomfortable. “This new sand you can get...make...whatever, it's not going to be quite the same, it it?”
Gaara thought about it for a while, Naruto looking a little bit more uncomfortable and a smidgeon...forlorn? With each passing moment. “It won't be as powerful.” Gaara stated eventually. “Maybe not as fast. But I can get it back to full strength after a few missions.”
Naruto's face contorted into a weird expression, even for him. “But you could get hurt, right? Because that other sand of yours, you've been feeding it all your life.”
“I guess I should have been quicker on my feet then.” Gaara said, allowing a thread of amusement colour his tone. “I tend to rely on one defense a lot when I'm fighting. If anything, your display showed me I really need to start practicing some other moves.”
Gaara patted the glass before walking away, stopping when he was in the center of the ravaged meadow. He could feel Naruto's eyes on him as he concentrated on pooling his chakra underneath the surface of the soil, a good depth down, searching for the necessary minerals needed to create his own sand. The Fire Country was especially good for this sort of thing. Stone Country came close, but they mined a lot and too many mineral-rich veins were destroyed regularly. When Gaara delved into the earth he could feel the missing pieces. No, Fire Country was definitely the best for recovering and creating sand. It was always best when dried out in his own Wind Country, but the first process was the most vital.
It took effort, and chakra, a helluva damn ton of chakra to filter through the soil, much less compress and sear it into something approaching pure sand. Then it had to be cleaned – an odd concept considering how he usually tended to it – and refined. That was only the beginning. The entire process would only take around two to three minutes for crude sand, but for the kind Gaara was after, the process could take anywhere up to three or four hours.
Sweat beaded and ran down Gaara's skin, across tensed and straining muscles and shivering limbs.
Naruto had no idea how much Gaara trusted him to watch his back. He was completely defenseless like this, at the mercy of any aspiring enemy shinobi and in an outside village to boot.
Maybe Naruto would never know. But to Gaara, this was a way of saying he was a friend.
You don't kill friends.
The stars were out, twinkling in the clear night sky by the time Gaara finished and had his gourd reformed on his back. It was a pale gold, quite different from the rich bronzed red-gold it had been before.
Gaara felt relieved at the burden on his back. It was a familiar and welcome feeling, if different from before.
“Is that...It? The gourd?” Naruto asked.
“Yes.”
Naruto frowned at him – no, at the gourd. “It doesn't look right, or feel right. It seems...lighter. Not as menacing.”
Gaara stared at him. “It's weak. There's no presence in it yet. Once mother feeds for a while her strength will fill it.”
Naruto shuddered. “That's just creepy. Calling Shukaku 'Mother'.”
Gaara blinked, although that seemed to happen in slow motion he was so tired. “I do not call Shukaku 'Mother'. My mother is in both of us. She was the first offering of blood.” Gaara clenched his fists and looked away, and Naruto could see he hadn't meant to tell even that much.
“Sorry. I didn't know.”
“I shouldn't have said anything.”
Naruto stepped forwards, his hand hovering, but not quite daring to touch the sand gourd. “It's hungry, isn't it?”
Gaara shrugged. “A bit. I'll find a few animals on the way back to Sunagakure that'll keep it satisfied.”
Naruto nodded absently, still staring fixedly at the pale sand. He seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and then smiled at Gaara, pulling out a kunai and slicing open his palm with one deft stroke until the bone showed. Before Gaara could react Naruto pressed his hand against the sand, hissing when he felt the sand pull at the skin, absorbing the blood as fast as it poured out.
Gaara froze, a look of confusion and...pleasure...encompassing his usually stoic face. Naruto was a creature of power, of pure energy, and the sheer amount of that energy, of that massive power flooding into his sand, and him, was unbelievable.
The intense potency of that charge of chakra that Naruto fed to him, and to his sand and ultimately Shukaku defied comprehension. For a few minutes Gaara was unable to think, to speak, to do anything other than ride the heady waves of power that Naruto gave through his shed blood.
There was a soft cry of pain, but Gaara couldn't move. Eventually coherency returned, along with his wits and thought processes. But the rush stayed with him. Everything felt lighter, and Gaara felt that he was connected not only to the earth beneath him, which was usual for him, but to the very air itself, to every blade of grass, to every tree, every flower and each and every living particle in a sixty mile radius. A small part of his brain that wasn't fried wondered if this was how Naruto felt all the time. If it was, there was no wonder he hated hurting people.
The implications of that thought faded under the onslaught and aftermath of the rush of Naruto's gift.
The feeling slowly faded, leaving him in his own skin with his usual level of perception, including the many miles of dirt beneath his sandaled feet.
Naruto was on his knees beside him, his forehead pressed against the soil. He was cradling his arm, so white it seemed like bleached bone. There was a terrible wound spitting open his palm, but no blood came out. His muscles were exposed, bones and tendons gleaming horribly in the clear moonlight.
“Naruto...” Gaara whispered softly, falling to his knees beside Naruto. “What did you do, Naruto?”
Naruto gave a shaky laugh, his body trembling with the force of it. “S-sorry. Just, j-just wan-wanted to help.”
Gaara had to strain to hear Naruto's faint voice. He scrubbed at his forehead. “Shouldn't that have healed by now?” he asked.
Naruto didn't answer him, but Gaara knew he was right. “Shit.” He tugged at the excess fabric he had wound around his waist as a decorative belt, wrapping the red-brown fabric gently around Naruto's hand, pressing the edges of the wound closed as he bound it up.
“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Gaara asked, frowning when he realised he still couldn't see any colour returning to Naruto's exposed white arm.
Naruto raised his head just enough to shake it in the negative, before accepting Gaara's assistance to stand. He swayed on his feet and looked as terrible as Gaara knew he must feel. His skin was pale, too pale beneath his tan, his eyes looked pained and he held himself like a wounded animal.
“Just...get me h-home, Gaara. Please.”
Gaara nodded, and without having to even think about it, the sand stirred, fairly vibrating with the force of it's own energy, excitement seeping through into Gaara's blood as it rose and encompassed both Gaara and Naruto, turning in on itself as Gaara commanded it to transport them both safely to Naruto's apartment.
The sand held Naruto upright while Gaara moved him to the bed. Naruto was unconscious, and Gaara stared at him, wondering about what he'd said earlier. Naruto was really acting as though he held no worth beyond that which he could give to others. Naruto had always held a self-sacrificing streak when it came to his friends, and an extremely strong innate sense of self-preservation and survival when it came to his own well-being.
At least, he had three years ago.
Gaara was nothing if not thorough, and his investigation into Naruto's life was no exception. He knew everything about him from just after birth until recently. Not so much with his personal relations, but the actual cold hard facts of his life. Gaara couldn't say who his friends were, but he could speculate...unlike his statistics.
So Gaara knew about Naruto's placement in an orphanage when he was a baby, with no parents to speak of. People had wondered if Naruto even had parents, and some still believed that Naruto was the fox demon itself in human form.
Gaara had at least been cared for by his uncle Yashamaru. Never mind the fact that his uncle was the first person to try and kill him when he was six.
When Naruto was six he'd already been thrown out of the orphanage in secret, no-one wanting the then Hokage, the Sandaime, Sarutobi to know that they had removed the Kyuubi brat from their care. At six, Naruto had been living on the streets for nearly two years, the false reports on his care remaining a well kept secret at the orphanage.
It would have stayed a secret if Naruto hadn't almost starved and died, the beating he'd received for stealing some food from a stall was what brought him and his distinct lack of care to the Sandaime's attention.
The Hokage had gifted the six year old Naruto with his own small apartment, basically fitted, the same one Naruto lived in now. It was deeded in Naruto's name, and until his death three years earlier the Sandaime had also paid for Naruto's other basic bills, water, electric and general maintenance, no-one in the village being willing to hire Naruto because of his burden.
Was it any wonder Naruto spent his entire life surviving on ramen? It was cheap, filling and hot, and he could use his small allowance to keep himself fed.
Gaara just took what he wanted. As the son of the Kazekage he was Suna royalty, and he'd learnt early on how to care for himself. His uncle at least had been good for something.
Gaara had his own suspicions about Naruto's origins. He knew it was very likely that he would become the next Kazekage, and he'd been groomed for that position from birth to the age of six, his shinobi training facilitating the rest. He'd seen pictures of the Yondaime and he looked exactly like Naruto, older definitely, and without the distinctive whisker scars, but otherwise he looked just like Naruto.
The same Yondaime which sealed the fox demon inside Naruto.
The same Yondaime who was known as Konoha's Yellow Flash.
The same Yondaime which created the powerful Rasengan technique which is so impossibly hard to learn that only the Yondaime's mentor had ever managed to learn it off his own pupil.
Until Naruto came along and learned it, mastering the technique which took the Yondaime three years to master in under a week.
There were more coincidences, like the Yondaime's mentor, the great Toad Sannin of Konoha, teaching and training Naruto because of rumors that Jiraiya saw his now dead apprentice in Naruto.
Gaara wondered how Konoha would react if they knew they were treating their own royal sacrifice like a diseased cur.
He didn't find the thought funny.
Gaara knew about the secret training Naruto put himself through, but not about the scrolls. Finding out about Naruto's basic past had raised demons – figuratively speaking – from his own. Gaara found himself remembering the many sleepless nights, terrified out of his mind that he was going to fall asleep and get eaten by the demon within him. The demon he'd called mother.
Gaara understood Naruto's need to train in secret, the need to preserve his own sanity by wearing a mask over his own personality. The need was rooted in a desperate bid for safety, the overwhelming urge to protect oneself in order to live.
Gaara knew about the beatings that Naruto went through before becoming a shinobi. He'd had no control over his chakra, had no idea of how to call it out. The Kyuubi seal was too new, too strong for Naruto to access.
Naruto had been helpless. He hadn't had Gaara's sand defense. Hadn't had anyone to protect him, to look after his health. From the ages of six through ten Naruto had been in hospital two hundred and seven times. Each time he'd been discharged within two hours. Yet the hospital kept no medical records for him.
Gaara's informant had been extremely thorough and the only proof of Naruto's mistreatment had been in the sealed files in the Hokage's office.
No matter the severity of Naruto's injuries, the Hospital had found some way of removing Naruto from their premises. Gaara wondered how many times Naruto gained injuries for going to the Hospital.
Reading the files had made Gaara sick.
He'd thought his father was bad.
Gaara had never been wounded, had never unwillingly shed any blood until he was twelve years old, until the Chuunin examination held in Konohagakure. He'd wondered if he was real so many times. Unable to feel physical pain, he hadn't known how much it could hurt, how much it could tear you up inside.
Even the night he and the sand had tattooed the kanji for 'Love' into his forehead he'd been in so much pain from Yashamaru's betrayal that he hadn't felt a thing.
Sometimes he thought Naruto had been lucky to know he was alive. To know he was real. To know he was flesh and blood and still human on the outside. At other times he was glad he had been protected by his sand.
When he'd read Naruto's files he'd felt an overwhelming kinship with him, both of them had been misused, one being battered and beaten on the outside, one being tortured and hurt on the inside.
Both of them had had years to mold a working mask over themselves. Naruto's mask though, his mask was breaking.
Gaara never thought he'd feel so protective of him. In a way, he supposed it was much like the way he felt towards his siblings, although the care he felt for them was shadowed with guilt over the way he'd treated them before Naruto had literally beaten sense into him.
Maybe it was time to return the favour.
Gaara stared down at Naruto's sleeping form. He knew that Naruto was slightly older than him by maybe a month or two, but he honestly felt like he was the elder one and Naruto was the younger brother he'd never had.
Looking at Naruto's crumpled body on the small bed, it was easy to understand why. Naruto seemed so...breakable...frail, completely at odds with his usual guise.
Gaara frowned. Feeling like these were too new, too uncomfortable to think about. They were confusing.
Gaara pulled off Naruto's sandals and tugged the duvet up from under his feet, covering him up to his neck. He untied the hitae-ate and placed it gently on the bedside table, in front of the pictures. He checked the wound, and Naruto's arm, glad when he saw that his skin was approaching something approximating normal colour and the gentle crimson glow seeping out through the fabric signified that the wound was healing.
Calling the sand back to him, Gaara left.
::
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-01-21 02:07 am (UTC)-brain dies- More Gaara. So much love. I especially love how you characterized him and Naruto along with their interaction. You managed to show how Gaara has changed but while stilling being... well, Gaara. XDD;;
Naruto has a fun personality. I think you managed to convey the correct amount of meloncholy while still keeping his slightly childish personality (like the tea making scene).
Can't wait to read more~ -happyiness galore-
Story
Date: 2007-03-18 06:16 pm (UTC)Friends come? thanks
Date: 2007-08-08 12:59 am (UTC)dfdf767df