Fuck Yashamaru dude. Damn
Gaara's uncle, Yashamaru, looked like a girl.
He had longish blonde hair and grey eyes. He was tall, with a thin frame and pale skin.
He was so kind. He was one of the only people Gaara cared about.
That's why it hurt so badly.
"Why," Gaara once asked, "do people cry?"
He was sitting on the floor and playing jacks when the question came to him.
...No, that's not quite true. He'd been thinking something along those lines all day.
He'd been walking to the training grounds that morning when he saw a girl. She'd lost a ball. He threw it back to her.
But she didn't catch it. She stared at him. Her eyes were cold. Gaara felt small.
The sand swirled around him. He wanted it to stop. In his head, he begged it to stop. But his will meant nothing.
The girl had cried when the sand grabbed her. And she was angry at him, even though it wasn't his fault. Maybe she didn't care about whose fault it was. Maybe she was just mad. She wasn't killed, but her leg was cut.
Yashamaru looked over at him, and Gaara saw his expression, although he couldn't tell what it was meant to be. Confusion? Concern? Judgement? They all looked the same.
"...Why do you ask?" Yashamaru questioned.
"Because I don't know."
He looked down, away from his uncle's gaze. He knew that wasn't what he'd meant. But the shame was too much. Instead, he focused on the game at hand. He couldn't decipher his expressions, so what was the point in trying?
Yashamaru responded, although he sounded hesitant.
"People cry when they're sad," he told him, "or hurt. In pain."
"Oh."
Gaara contemplated this for a minute, before coming up with something else to ask.
"What does pain... feel like?"
He glanced at Yashamaru, who raised his eyebrows and, after a moment, sat down on the floor next to him. Gaara internally sighed, preparing for some sort of long-winded lecture.
"Pain feels... well, bad." He chuckled at his incredibly unhelpful explanation. "It means that there's some sort of harm happening, whether it's outside," and for some reason, he put a hand on Gaara's shoulder, "or inside." And he put the hand on his own chest, where one of his lungs hopefully was.
Gaara looked at him with only his eyes, still facing the ground.
"You mean, external or internal?"
Yashamaru smiled.
"Exactly."
Seemed his uncle underestimated his vocabulary.
...Fair enough. He didn't talk much.
"But what does it feel like?" he asked again. Yashamaru was quiet, likely thinking. Then, he responded.
"How do you feel when people run away from you?" he asked.
Gaara shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know. Confused. It's not my fault, so why are they mad at me for it?"
"What else? I guess, how do you feel knowing they're mad at you?"
He frowned, thinking. How could he describe such a feeling? Metaphor wouldn't work, not this time. Maybe physical sensation would do the trick.
"Okay, well... my chest feels all tight. And my throat kind of... closes. And I can't swallow right."
Yashamaru nodded. In spite of having been told the truth, something in his eyes was sad. Maybe it was the truth that made him sad.
"That's pain," he said. "Anything you feel, physically or emotionally, that makes you feel like that—it's pain. That's what it feels like when you want to cry, you know."
"Oh, okay. Thanks."
So, people cry because they feel pain, and they know they're in pain because they want to cry? That's stupid.
Gaara went back to playing jacks, still wondering.
Wait, why wonder? His uncle's got answers.
"Hey, Uncle?" he said. "I have another question."
"Ask away," Yashamaru said, smiling. Gaara almost wanted to smile back. But he had questions to ask.
For this, metaphor would have to work.
"What do you call it when you feel empty?"
Yashamaru blinked, surprised.
"Uh, what do you mean?"
"Like, when you feel like nothing's inside you. And everything outside you doesn't matter. And it's like there's nothing there anymore, but you can't stop it, and you can't make it better. And everything's all cold. I guess... feeling hollow. What's that?"
Yashamaru swallowed. If he wasn't sad before, he certainly was now. That was one look Gaara could always recognize. He saw it everywhere he went.
"I think, Gaara, that it's... loneliness."
"Oh."
And the room went silent, besides the ball bouncing and the jacks clacking against one another.
"In a book I read," Gaara eventually said, "the main character said loneliness was a big feeling. But all this is just... nothing."
"Maybe the author had never felt it for himself."
Gaara looked at his uncle, perplexed. As though the the very idea was totally foreign. How does a person live their life without feeling lonely?
That was a few months before Naruto ended up in Gaara's house. He never forgot the conversation, or the awful empty feeling. How could he? It was with him everywhere he went.
Except, talking with Naruto, sharing stories and listening to him laugh... the feeling faded. Never quite fully, but it was an excellent relief. And the day he hugged him...
When it happened, Gaara didn't smile. If anything, he felt like crying. But it wasn't because he was in pain, he knew, even though his uncle had told him otherwise. It was for some other reason.
...The swell of emotion, was that it? He couldn't quite name it, but he knew why it was there.
It was there because Naruto cared. He cared whether Gaara lived or died, he cared about how he felt. How he felt, of all things. Something so... so miniscule, something that, in the grand scheme of things, didn't matter... Naruto cared.
His friend cared.
It was an almost scary thought, realizing that Gaara cared about him, too.
"Hey, Naruto?" Gaara asked one night. He was outside his friend's door, listening in for any hint of noise. "Are you awake?"
And usually, he wasn't. More often than not, he fell asleep immediately after training, and Gaara would have to wait until the next day to speak with him. But that night...
The sound on the other side of the door must have been crying. Quiet, sure, muffled, but what else could it have been?
So Gaara opened the door, and he was right.
His friend was on his side, curled up with his face in his knees. It was clear he was trying not to make noise.
"Naruto?" Gaara called softly, walking inside and shutting the door behind him. "Why are you crying?"
The sound stopped. Naruto froze.
"...I'm not," he said. But his voice was hoarse, and Gaara knew he was lying. He said so.
"Liar."
Naruto sniffed. Sat up.
"Okay," he said, and he shifted so he was sitting facing Gaara on the edge of the bed. "Yeah. I'm lying."
It was dark, but Gaara could still see that the look on his face was awful. He knew with utter certainty... his friend was in pain.
"I'm... going to sit next to you," Gaara told him.
Naruto only nodded, looking at his lap.
Gaara sat on the edge of the bed beside him. They didn't look at one another, afraid to break the tension.
Gaara didn't know what to say or do for a crying friend. He didn't know what to do for a friend in general, which made the decision much more difficult. But eventually, he spoke.
"Why are you crying?"
Naruto grimaced.
"It's stupid," he said.
"Probably," Gaara agreed, nodding.
Naruto looked at him with a hurt expression. Hurriedly, Gaara continued,
"But! You're still... sad. So I... care. About it."
He swallowed, face flushed. God, how awkward could he get? Why did he feel such... was it embarrassment? Shame? The emotion was so new, he didn't yet have a word to describe it.
Luckily enough, it faded when he saw Naruto look at him again. He looked...
Damn. Well, he looked not angry. And that was enough.
"It's... my plants."
"...Plants?"
...Maybe Gaara had read too far into the "in pain" bit.
"Yeah." Naruto swallowed. "Uh, when I'd... left... I thought I'd be back after, like, a week. But it's been a week, and Baki said I could never go back. Remember? And I don't know if he's being literal, but..."
His hands trembled. He clenched his fist tightly in an attempt to ease it.
"If I'd known, I would've asked Iruka to water them until I came back. But I guess if it's gonna take any more than a month or two, they're all gonna die anyways... Iruka kills..." Naruto's voice became choked. Gaara's chest tightened. Maybe he'd cry, too. "He kills... Every plant he... touches..."
And he began crying once again.
Gaara had no idea what to say. Maybe... maybe he could solve the problem. Maybe...
"...You could get new plants," Gaara suggested.
Naruto shook his head.
"That's not the point. They're dead. Even though they're just plants, and they can't feel or think... they're dead."
"You... care about them."
Naruto nodded. Gaara cocked his head.
"They can't care about you back. Doesn't that bother you?"
Naruto wiped his nose on his sleeve. Long sleeves, even with the temperature. Probably the only pajamas he had clean.
"It doesn't matter. I just... like caring about stuff, I guess."
Gaara nodded slowly.
"Even if it hurts?"
"Caring doesn't hurt." Naruto said. He shook his head, almost amused. "It's... It's losing things that hurt."
"You remind me of my uncle," Gaara said suddenly. "I'd like you to meet him. And I think he could help you with the whole plant thing more than I could. You know, I'm not good at this."
Naruto shook his head, smiling. Even with tears in his eyes, he was still so good.
"It doesn't matter what you say, man. I just... I care about you. It's nice knowing you care about me, too. Even if I just like caring about stuff... When it's people, they usually don't care about me back."
"We're friends," Gaara said. "I..."
He was too nervous for this. And what for? Naruto had already said it. Why couldn't he say it back? Why couldn't he just say he cared? Even if Naruto already knew it.
He swallowed.
"People don't usually care about me, either," he just said. "But you do, so... that's... uh, nice. That was care about each other."
His face was burning, he was so embarrassed. That same stupid, shameful feeling, even when that crap was all he could muster up!
Naruto grinned. Before either of them could say another word, he had put his arm around Gaara's shoulder and stood, forcing him up as well.
"Let's go meet this uncle of yours! Wait, he's, uh, here, right?"
Gaara, against his will, had a small smile on his face.
"Yeah. He's usually doing paperwork. Let's go find him."
"Uncle!" Gaara called, looking around as he and Naruto stepped into Yashamaru's office. Technically, it was Rasa's, but Yashamaru used it more often than he did, so why stick with the technicalities?
"I don't think he's here," Naruto said. His arm was still on Gaara's shoulders, although Gaara was now leading the way.
"Maybe on the balcony. It's big, so sometimes he goes there to do work instead."
"Makes sense. Where is it?" Naruto asked.
"Top floor."
"What, there's another floor?"
"Yeah. Usually I'm not allowed, but we're not doing anything wrong, so we shouldn't get in any trouble."
"Oh, man, I don't want to get in trouble. Your dad's seriously scary!"
Gaara nodded, noting Naruto's anxious expression.
They went out in the hall. Yashamaru's office was the first door on the right, and the stairs were the second.
Naruto made a noise of, what, understanding? as Gaara opened the door.
"Ohhh," he said, "that's what that is. I thought it was Kankuro's room."
"No, that's up here. Temari's, too. My siblings and I aren't really supposed to talk to each other."
Gaara led the way upstairs, Naruto trailing behind. The staircase was so thin, they couldn't walk beside each other.
The door was on the right, and it led into a hallway. Turn right to walk down the hallway, right again, apparently just for fun, then right one more time to go outside. Really, there could've been two doors for that staircase. The house was obviously planned poorly.
The balcony was relatively plain. A few chairs and a railing so nobody killed themselves. That's what Kankuro had said.
"He's not here," Gaara said, frowning. "Here" being the house in general, not just the balcony. "He's always here. He basically lives in the guest room." He glanced at Naruto. "Did you see a blonde guy anywhere?"
Naruto snorted.
"We were in the same rooms!"
"I'm just checking. Did you see a girl, either? You might've thought he was a girl. He kinda looks like one."
"I didn't see anybody, Gaara."
Gaara wanted to be disappointed, but he couldn't when Naruto was smiling at him like that.
"Okay, then. Let's go back."
"Okay!"
Gaara reached for the handle, but hesitated. He glanced at Naruto.
"Feels like someone's there," he told him.
And he was right.
Quietly, but not quiet enough, somebody dropped from the roof onto the balcony. Gaara heard their feet land, even if they were obscured by the dark. The sky was covered in clouds, no lights were on. But both Gaara and Naruto could see the faded outline of a person, standing before them. A white mask covered any identifying features.
Gaara crept towards Naruto slowly, and he heard Naruto's feet shuffling towards him, too. Going inside was no longer a viable option. It would only confine him. But protecting his friend? Well, what else could he do?
They stood together, shoulders touching. Shivering. In spite of their power, they were scared. Damn terrified. The person in the mask was tall and thin and stood so confidently, Gaara almost believed he'd die, right then and there.
What was worse, no sand was reaching up from the ground to strangle the figure. For the first time, Gaara was scared for his life, he thought he was going to die, and the sand just lay dormant.
Then, the figure kneeled, matching the kid's height.
It—because Gaara was so damn scared he could no longer comprehend the figure as human—reached towards it's face. Grabbed its mask.
Took it off.
Gaara inhaled sharply.
Shakily, he spoke.
"...Uncle?"
...He couldn't believe it.
The figure—no, the man before him was... Yashamaru. His uncle.
...So why was he still scared for his life?
Yashamaru stood. Reached into a pocket. Pulled out a kunai.
Gaara couldn't move.
"Go inside, Naruto." Yashamaru's eyes didn't once leave Gaara. "You're not my target."
Naruto choked.
"T—target?"
Yashamaru gripped the knife, narrowing his eyes.
"Target."
Gaara was going to die.
He felt it in his very core; he wouldn't live to see the sunlight. Never again.
He'd said to Naruto, a week before, that he'd made peace with death.
But now, he had only seconds to mourn the life he'd never live.
Yashamaru stepped forward.
Gaara's mouth went dry.
Another step.
He shrank into the wall behind him.
Another.
Naruto left his side. Stepped forward.
The absence of touch, however small of an amount it had been, felt enormous.
Naruto stood strong.
"Hey!"
And... Yashamaru stopped moving.
"Aren't you Gaara's uncle? Yasha-freakin'... whatever? That you?"
He nodded.
"What the hell are you doing? You're just gonna... murder your nephew?"
Yashamaru laughed. It wasn't real. It was just... cold.
"That boy's not my nephew. That boy's nothing but a monster."
Oh, hell.
Naruto wasn't angry.
He was downright fucking furious.
"How the hell can you say that? Don't you see how he cares about you? He loves you! You're his uncle! You can't just... just..."
Naruto's expression was pleading. Gaara could tell. His voice went from angry to desperate in a matter of seconds.
And Gaara was horrified.
How could Naruto stand up to his uncle like that? How could he tell that Gaara loved him? How could he say something like that? How could he say something like that when he was about to die?
"Naruto," Gaara whispered. He was pleading, too. Because maybe Naruto could make Yashamaru stop. Maybe he'd make everything okay again. Go back to the way things were, about ninety seconds ago. Even if it was illogical, or impossible, Gaara hoped with all his heart that Naruto would change his uncle's mind.
But hope was nothing.
"That boy killed my sister," Yashamaru said. Gaara's throat burned. "He's hurt countless civilians. He can hardly understand basic emotions, or empathy, or human fucking decency. But now, it doesn't matter."
Gaara's shoulders slumped. He wasn't going to live. Any shred of hope he'd had that Naruto would change his mind? It died. Just like they were both about to.
"Gaara's not human. Not anymore. He likely never was. And as much as he tries to pretend—" Yashamaru stepped forward— "or hide, he was never a real person to begin with. He was never more than a weapon. And now? He's done more harm than good. So, Gaara," Yashamaru said, and there was nothing Gaara could imagine that would hurt more than the words he'd just spoken, "do you know what the Kazekage told me?"
Oh. Oh, no.
"Did you know that the Kazekage, your father, ordered me to kill you?"
Against his will, Gaara's arms came up, and he hugged himself tightly. His head hurt. He just wanted his uncle back. Why couldn't he just have his uncle back?
"You... You couldn't refuse," Gaara whispered shakily. "Tell me... Tell me you couldn't refuse. A direct order from the Kazekage... there was nothing you could do... right?"
His expression must've been terrible—pathetic. His hope was nothing but childish. And it wasn't real, anyways. He knew it wasn't.
But it had to be real, because he couldn't accept it of it wasn't. He couldn't accept it if the goddamn reality was that the only person who had ever cared about him was now trying to kill him.
Yashamaru smiled. "No," he said.
Gaara bowed his head. Just... waiting.
"I could have refused if I'd wanted to. But I didn't. Know why?"
He couldn't answer. He tried, but no sound came from his mouth. He only stood. Frozen.
"It's because I hate you."
What needlessly cruel words. Why not slit his throat while he slept? Why not drive him to suicide? It might hurt less.
Yashamaru ran forward.
Gaara couldn't move.
Somebody grabbed onto him. Small hands. Naruto.
They dove to the ground.
Something big happened.
Took a moment to process.
An explosion.
Gaara's ears rang.
Naruto was still holding on to him.
...For some time, Gaara was nothing.
And then everything came back.
Gaara had hit his head on the concrete. He lay there as blood spilled on the ground.
Something hellish and burning ate at his skin, his whole body.
Pain.
Physical pain.
Gaara's face broke out in a smile.
His eyes welled up with tears.
At least he felt something.
Naruto was sobbing. That, he knew.
He sat up. Studied his friend.
Half his body was red and blistering. Blood spilled from raw skin. One of his sleeves was totally burnt off.
Gaara looked at his own body. He was in significantly better shape.
"You saved me."
"He's dead," Naruto only said. "He blew himself to fucking bits. Just to kill you."
What a reality check that was.
"The only person who's ever cared about me," Gaara replied, "just killed himself trying to take me with him."
He couldn't move.
Naruto's expression was distant. His eyes were far away.
All Gaara could hear was blood, pumping in his ears, head, back, limbs, all throbbing with an awful pain that he was just about overjoyed to learn he could feel.
And he'd rather die than sit there and cry about it, but what else was there to do?
Maybe it was an hour. Maybe five minutes. Something in between? Who cares. They stood.
And the reality hit.
"My uncle," Gaara said. "I loved him. I thought he loved me."
He looked at Naruto.
"The only person who's ever cared about me just tried to kill me."
His voice broke.
He tried to look at the corpse. Because surely, there was a corpse.
But his eyes wouldn't stray from Naruto's. They were locked together. Just as it was before, they stood together, shoulders touching.
"The one person," Gaara continued, "who I thought cared about me. He thought I was a monster. He said it. He thought I was nothing more than a monster!"
Tears spilled from his eyes. He hugged himself, through aching limbs and torn skin, he hugged himself, doing anything he could for some semblance of comfort.
"Gaara!" Naruto said. His hands were on his shoulders. Why'd he do that? How could he touch something that was worse than human? "Let's go inside, okay? Please, please, let's go inside."
"Damn it, Naruto! Don't you understand?"
"Gaara..."
"The only person who's ever fucking cared about me thinks I'm a fucking monster!"
"Gaara!" Naruto squeezed his shoulders. From his voice, he was crying, too. "Man, I care about you!"
"And you're a monster too!"
Gaara knew what he'd said. He couldn't bear to see the hurt look on Naruto's face. He knew the pain he'd caused. He finally understood what pain felt like. He finally understood why the girl had cried, why Naruto was so upset about those stupid fucking plants.
He fell to his knees. It hurt. But it was something.
And Gaara couldn't bear it any longer.
He looked at Naruto. His face hurt. His body hurt. His head, his stomach, his chest, it hurt. And he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't tell what was an emotional reaction and what was physical. The barrier was blurred.
And it all worsened when he saw the expression on Naruto's face.
Sheer anguish.
Oh, he could always place that one. Fuck.
Another look. His friend was hurt. Of course, his friend was hurt.
He'd hurt him.
Gaara wanted to throw up. Naruto was losing so much blood. His skin should have healed already. Why was there so much blood?
And why were the marks on his face deeper, darker? Why were his eyes an opposite shade?
Why was anger radiating off him in waves?
And why, instead of killing Gaara like he deserved, was he just... standing there?
Gaara wanted to apologize. He wanted to hug his friend, spill his guts, but he couldn't. He couldn't muster up the courage.
He didn't want to be alone. Why couldn't he just speak?
And Naruto went inside.
The retreating footsteps hurt the most.
His friend was leaving him, why couldn't he just speak?