Chapter 3
He wakes up in bed in a plain room with Baki by the door.
The medical wing. Gaara stretches the fingers of his left hand, regaining feeling in his body. The ceiling has veins, the sand cracking slowly.
It takes him a second to realize he's doing it. He stops moving completely, fear gripping him after a moment of confusion upon waking. He was unconscious, and him being unconscious for any amount of time--
Did...did he…?
Did Shukaku…?
Gaara feels bile rise up his throat at the thought. That everything (as meager as it is) he's been struggling so hard for lately could be dashed simply because he released Shukaku because Gaara is so emotionally crippled. And how many casualities...?
And the worst thought dawns on him slowly, making his face whiten in fear and his stomach clench, bile making it's way further up his throat...Temari was so close to him when he blacked out, what if he killed her?
Gaara feels the ragged gasp tear from his throat as he sits up quickly, head spinning and nausea peaking.
He's going to be sick.
“You're awake.”
Temari unfolds her arms from her place at his bedside, looking slightly amused.
Gaara looks at her, heart pounding. Oh.
She's okay. She's there. She's okay. He didn't hurt her. He could almost sigh in relief.
She takes in the look on his face and her eyes widen in alarm.
Gaara wonders how he looks. He feels terrible.
She takes his hand.
“Hey, I know that look.” she says quickly, “Whatever you're thinking--you didn't do anything Gaara. You just passed out. Scared me half to death, that's all. Stress and malnutrition, they said. Well, when your sand would let anyone get near you.”
He doesn't know what else to do. He shakes but says nothing.
“You need to keep a hold of yourself. You're run by your emotions too easily.” Baki muses, not budging by the door.
“Leave him be. He's allowed to be overwhelmed. He's not a robot.” Temari snaps.
Gaara looks at her, surprised. He's never heard her speak to Baki like that before. For him. Baki glances at her, lip curling before he shrugs and leaves. Temari fumes for a moment before he gathers herself.
“How’re you feeling?” she asks quietly.
Gaara stares at her, still struck silent. Eventually he can feel his hands again, though the anxiety is still coursing through him. Not a foreign feeling, but one he's never been fond of.
“I'm okay.” he tells her, “Sorry.”
Temari leans back in her seat, “You apologize too often lately.”
“I have a lot to-.”
“Not to me, you don't.” Temari tells him, “I know what you're doing, you know.”
Gaara looks down at his hands, picking at the threads of the blanket draped over him.
“You don't have to grovel, Gaara. You don't have to try and earn my forgiveness. Or Kankuro's. I mean it.”
“But--I--”
“I mean it!” she snaps, and Gaara tenses at the sudden rise in her voice. Temari takes a minute to collect herself before she speaks again.
“That's not what family is. They don't hold things over you. Whatever happens in the past doesn't matter. We care about you, and we just want you to be okay, Gaara. You don't have to make it up to us.”
“But Father--”
“--did wrong by all of us, but especially you. We will not follow his example. He was cold. I'm stopping that cycle right here. This family will no longer be cold.” she says fiercely, before she sighs softly, “Mom would want us to take care of each other.”
Gaara's mind lurches and his stomach turns even remembering his father. The fear is still very much there. And mother...
He wants to believe Temari, but he can't bring himself to.
Things never work out that well, do they?
~~~~
Kankuro bursts in while Temari urges Gaara to try and drink a cup of water.
"What the fuck happened?"
Temari blinks at him, "Why are you screaming? Gaara just passed out."
"You okay?" Kankuro asks, looking at his younger brother.
Gaara is a bit paler than usual, but that seems to be all his eyes could pick up. His little brother nods and Kankuro deflates in relief.
~~~~
Two weeks later with no mission sees Temari standing before their sensei with her arms crossed, determination painted across her features.
“I'm taking Gaara to see his friend in the Leaf village. I already sent a message to their Hokage, and it's settled.” Temari tells Baki the next time he summons her, “Give the next mission to someone else.”
He's concerned and a bit put out as she expected, but she just stands there, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. She won't be swayed.
“See you in a week.” she says, waving him off.
And that's that.
~~~~
He still notes how glaringly green the Leaf village is. Lively.
It’s certainly different from the reds, browns and beige of Suna.
They're on their way to the Hokage’s office to formally greet her when he finds him. How does this keep happening? Kankuro is convinced this kid has a radar or something.
“Is that Gaara?” a loud, familiar voice shouts, “Gaara! Hey, over here!”
He turns, Temari stopping next to him, looking towards the source of the noise. Gaara's eyes land on him. He's just as lively and orange as he was the last time they met, standing next to Kakashi.
Gaara is tackled before he can even open his mouth to respond. Naruto launches himself at him and pulls tight, and it takes Gaara one long moment to realize it's a hug.
And his sand doesn't bother to respond.
Naruto is hugging him. His friend is hugging him, rambling a mile a minute about something Gaara can't really figure out because he can't seem to grasp the fact that someone is bold enough to hug him, of all things. Gaara blinks in surprise, hands limp at his sides.
“Hey c’mon!” Naruto grins, letting go but offering Gaara his hand, “Let's go eat.”
Gaara looks at him in question.
“You and me, a million bowls of ramen.” Naruto smiles, eyes closing in happiness at the thought (like spending time with Gaara is something to be happy about, which is certainly new for Gaara himself to witness), reaching for Gaara’s hand, “Like another real date! Finally!”
Gaara looks at Temari (and she realizes he's nonverbally asking for permission)--who nods at him, tells him she and Kankuro will go see the Hokage on both his and her behalf and tries to suppress a smirk. He thanks her and turns back to Naruto.
“A date?” Gaara asks, taking the hand Naruto extends. It's warm.
“Yeah!” he says, like Gaara even knows what a date really is. Honestly, Gaara kind of doubts Naruto knows.
He doesn't dare refuse though. He doesn't know exactly what's going on, like last time, but he nods, butterflies alive in his belly when Naruto smiles at him, so bright.
He tries not to think about how easily Naruto takes his hand and pulls him away. Kakashi waves at him and the remaining sand siblings turn on their heels and head in the opposite direction.
~~~~
The restaurant is small--more of a stall than anything--but Naruto pulls him inside, saying something about how good the food is there. They order (and he asks Naruto to order for him, as he doesn’t know this place's menu, nor does he remember what he got last time) and they end up getting two big bowls of noodles between the two of them. Naruto smiles and talks and talks and Gaara is content to listen.
Naruto understands that Gaara doesn’t have much to say, and he doesn’t hold it against the other boy. He doesn’t take Gaara’s quiet demeanor personally, which is rare since most do if they bother to speak to him at all, though maybe Gaara expected this from Naruto of all people. So the blond happily talks and Gaara adds in a few words here and there, clumsily trying to navigate around a normal conversation. It's not like he's had much practice other than his siblings. And he isn't too sure how much of a blueprint they are for normal conversation, really. Kankuro is quite strange, Gaara thinks, and Temari might be stranger than them both, if he's being honest.
“I'm going on a trip, yanno? Three years travelling and training.” Naruto grins, before it falls, “But I...won’t be able to get ramen with you for a while.”
Gaara pokes at the meat in his soup, watching it bob and float in the broth.
Oh.
“That's okay, we can write each other.” Gaara offers, somewhat haltingly.
Naruto’s face lights up, “Yeah, that's a great idea! And I get to tell you everything as it happens.”
Gaara nods.
“I'll be a lot stronger the next time you see me! Promise!” Naruto assures him, smile wide.
Gaara thinks on that for a moment.
“When you come back, I'll have accomplished something too. ” Gaara tells him, and for one of the few times outside of battle he feels truly confident, outside of his previous homicidal urges and the facade he used to put on to protect himself.
He isn't sure what exactly he'll do yet, but he'll do it.
Naruto extends his hand in a fist, pinky out, “Promise?”
Gaara looks at the blond’s hand, a question in his eyes.
“It's a pinky promise.” Naruto tells him, “Loop your pinky finger with mine.”
Gaara can feel his face going red.
He does it. He nods. He promises.
“There you go. It's a promise!” Naruto smiles.
Gaara nods. A promise.
~~~~~
Naruto takes his hand and shows him all around the village.
The thing is that he doesn’t let go. Not when Naruto takes him to meet Iruka or Kakashi--who look at Naruto with the tenderness of parents watching their child--or when he takes Gaara to the park, and the academy. Or when he takes him to Yamanaka’s flower shop.
The blonde girl that Gaara vaguely remembers from the Chunin exams waves at them from the counter when they enter (and strangely enough she doesn't give him a look of any sort of negativity--just friendly surprise and open curiosity--which surprises him because everyone seems to have seen him lose his mind during the Chunin exams at least once), and she playfully suggests that Naruto buy his guest a flower.
Naruto thinks it's a great idea. So he does.
Ino grins at Gaara’s expression when Naruto actually takes her seriously, plucking a single red flower from the selection and paying for it before offering it to Gaara with a bright smile.
“For you!”
“That’s sweet.” Ino grins, and Naruto’s smile just gets brighter when Gaara actually reaches out and takes it from the blond’s fingers.
“Thank you.” Gaara says, quiet and way out of his depth. Happy all the same, though.
Naruto beams, "It matches your hair!"
~~~~
Naruto’s apartment is small and messy and Gaara can’t think of anything that encapsulates Naruto’s personality more than this particular space. There are posters and candy wrappers everywhere, and it smells like ramen. Gaara wonders if Naruto eats anything else.
It’s nighttime and the moon is large though the window in the boy’s small living room. Naruto takes Gaara’s hand again and shows him around.
“And this is my kitchen.” Naruto concludes, nearly bouncing on his feet in excitement.
“You live here alone?” Gaara asks, hoping the answer isn't what he thinks it is.
Naruto nods, proud (though it’s rather sad to Gaara, really).
“What about you? Do you live with your siblings or…?” Naruto trails off, looking at Gaara in interest.
The day has been full of this. Yes, Naruto talks, but he also asks questions, and not just nonsense ones, but ones that show he’s actually interested in Gaara.
That’s never happened before. He doesn't quite know how to take it, truthfully.
“I...do now, but it’s a recent development.” Gaara tells him.
“And before that?” Naruto asks, curious but careful, blue eyes scanning Gaara’s face for any discomfort.
Naruto cares so much. And so deeply.
Gaara could only hope to care that much one day. Maybe he’ll get there. That would be nice. It seems nice, anyway.
“I was by myself. After my uncle passed it was just me for...a while.”
Naruto frowns and Gaara immediately regrets answering. That frown looks so out of place on his face.
“It was okay, though.” Gaara lies, unconvincingly.
It wasn't. It wasn't okay. He was so lonely and so afraid as a child, returning to a dark room by himself, knowing no one in the world would be there (and he knows Naruto would know exactly what he meant if he voiced his thoughts). He remembers trying to cook for himself and giving up. It never came out as good as the food Yashamaru made for him. He was six, what could he do?
Naruto’s frown deepens and his brows furrow.
Still, Gaara has trouble understanding what exactly Naruto is so upset about. Gaara is used to being alone. It hurts sure, but he’s grown accustomed to it. And anyway, he isn’t living alone anymore, since Temari and Kankuro insisted he start living with them. Naruto is the one who lives alone currently, so why is Naruto worried about him?
The blond doesn’t say anything, just squeezes Gaara’s hand.
Gaara stays with Naruto for four days, and the first night the other boy shows him his comic books (Gaara doesn’t quite understand them, but Naruto seems to like them, which makes him smile a little bit), then his video games (all of which Gaara is sure he’s very bad at) and Naruto falls asleep that first night in front of the television, watching something Gaara can’t recall.
The second day Gaara is pulled away by Naruto once again taking his hand and whisking him around, talking a mile-a-minute. They spend that day by the river. They train together until night falls and they collapse by the riverside, exhausted.
“I didn’t think there was anyone like me out there, yanno?” Naruto says suddenly, looking at Gaara, “Someone else with a tailed beast? I thought it was just me.”
Gaara’s hand clutches at his white sash wrapped around his shoulder, “I knew there were others, but I never thought I would meet someone who...understood. Or who didn't hate me on sight.”
Naruto looks alarmed. Who could hate Gaara? Even when they fought Naruto didn't hate him, just wanted to stop him. To him, Gaara just...looked like someone who needed help. Desperately.
“I’m not...happy you were lonely or anything, but it’s nice to not be alone in this, I guess.” Naruto says, “Everyone hated me and stayed away from me, yanno? And then the whispers--And I thought something was wrong with me. But they were just...scared and angry because of what the nine-tails did. It’s not our fault, but everyone acts like it is.”
Gaara is thankful it's dark. Conversations like this are easier in the dark.
“We’re either soldiers or military weapons. Or monsters. Or all three.”
Naruto looks away, chewing the inside his lip, “Well, we know we’re not.” he says, “So who cares what they think?”
After a moment comes Gaara’s response, deadpan and even but covering something like fear. It’s completely dark now, and they really should be heading back, but they’re both frozen here sitting in grass, pressed together shoulder to shoulder with the moon reflecting midnight blue off the river.
“What if they’re right?” Gaara asks after a moment. For the first time all day he feels hollow.
The blond looks at him sharply, eyes wide. Gaara has gone ashen white, eyes large and hollow.
“What if they’re right? What if I’m a monster? What if this is it?” Gaara asks, voice monotone but not wavering the slightest bit, “What if it’s hard to be anything else?”
He's talking more to himself than anybody else, and he doesn’t say ‘we’, because nine-tails or not, Naruto could never be a monster. He’s too good. Too pure, somehow.
Gaara has never been good. Or pure. He was born like this. His very existance is tied to Shukaku's, and he can never rip himself from that. His first murder was his mother, and it all just continued from there.
Naruto is at his side in an instant, taking hold of his shoulders, blue eyes blazing.
“Nope!” he says, “You’re not a monster. Or a mindless weapon, yanno? You’re Gaara, my friend. You have a brother and sister and you live in Suna. You like the same ramen I do but you don’t like ice cream. You can’t stand the cold and your favorite color is red. You hate sweets. You don’t really understand video games and you could talk about plants all day. You like flowers and cacti and the sunshine. And most importantly,” he grins, “You like going on dates with me. And hell, that’s just what I learned about you since I've met you, there’s a ton more to you that I don't know!”
Naruto squeezes his shoulders, brows furrowed, “So no. You’re not a monster. Or just some weapon for your father or Suna to use. You’re so much more than that, yanno? Iruka-sensei once told me that people were like galaxies because they’re made up of so much. Like stars and planets and--you’re your own galaxy! You’re full of a bunch of stuff! There’s a lot to you!”
Gaara can’t say anything.
“So don’t call yourself a monster.” Naruto says, full of conviction as he stands and offers his hand to the other boy, "I don't let anyone insult my friends. Not even themselves."
Gaara--hollow and shaky--rises on numb legs and lets Naruto lead him back to his apartment.
The next day they go to Ichiraku Ramen for breakfast (and Gaara doesn’t get anything this time, he’s had his fill of ramen and when he tells Naruto the boy gives him a confused look) before his hand is taken in Naruto's and he's taken to meet Lady Hokage.
Naruto calls her Grandma Tsunade. Gaara can't help thinking that everyone is helpless as he is when it comes to Naruto. They can't help but love him.
It's quite a gift to have.
~~~~
"You," Temari says, pointing to Gaara a few days later, when they've made it back home, "need a checkup."
Gaara doesn't say anything, he just holds his tea close and nods. He doesn't want to do it, he would rather do anything else, actually.
But...Temari being concerned enough about him to state that she's taking him to a physician-even if he's kicking and screaming-makes him feel warm inside in a way that has nothing to do with the tea.
"Which doctor?" he asks quietly after a moment, looking up at his sister, "Everyone in the village knows who I am and I don't think a doctor would want to see me--"
"I have someone. I already made the appointments. I got it, don't worry." she tells him, with a small smile before turning back to her lunch.
"You did?" he asks, surprised.
"Yep. You're not weasling out of it either, so don't try because I will find you." she says casually, like they've been doing to brother-sister act forever instead of it being the shaky new development it is, "Mom would come back just to kill me if I let you only live on gizzard or let you drop dead at 20 because you refuse to drink water or something."
The mention of their mother is what throws Gaara of the most. The easy mention of the woman that haunts his thoughts a lot more often than he's sure anyone knows.
The mention of the woman Gaara is sure he's responsible for killing. He killed their mother just by daring to exist and Gaara holds that large, ugly bundle of pain and guilt in a small, dark and confined chamber in his chest, where he can keep it close. Where he can drown himself in it.
But right now it's not...unpleasant. Not at all. The mention took him by surprise but he's...weirdly okay with it. Actually, he has a question. Something he's always wanted to ask before he stompled all sentimentality out of himself by force. He never thought he'd get the chance. He never thought anyone would want to tell him.
It might be safe to ask it now, though.
"What was she like?" he asks, quietly.
Temari pauses, tensing slightly. She turns around, an apple in hand, "Who? Mom?"
Gaara manages a small nod, heart pounding.
He wonders if their mother was how he always imaged her. Smiling. Warm. Loving.
He'd spent so long dreaming about her. How it would be if she were there. How she'd comb his hair and hug him whenever he needed it. How she'd talk with him for hours. How he'd crawl into bed with her when the dark of night got to be too much for him. How she'd nag him about chores and doing well in school and how he'd probably huff at her but still be so happy that someone cared.
He wonders about her personality quirks, how she spoke, her favorite food. He wants to know everything. He needs to know. A long weakened part of him flares up as Temari gives him a sad but considering look. She looks somewhat surprised too, but not really upset. She looks...pleased.
"Get some breakfast that isn't tea and meet me on the roof. I'm going to tell you everything about mom."