It was a warm night.
The sun had sunk on the hidden horizon not long ago and the heat, a small reminder of it, still lingered inside the Sand Village’s clay buildings.
The cramped and dirty streets were almost devoid of life, and the only villagers still roaming them were late-workers or early-drunks, both nothing more than shadows merging with the night.
A hot, languid breeze crawled along the village, near the ground, like the breath of an exhausted animal, and, high above the tall village walls, in the middle of the pitch-black, cloudless sky, the full moon dripped her pale light onto the earth, as round as a glistening coin.
A small boy, who wasn’t part of the workers or the drunks, seemed to be catching all of the moonlight with his also colorless face while he stood on the roof of a building right next to the Kazekage’s.
The boy had his eyebrow-less eyes closed as he absorbed the moonlight, and his eyelids looked even darker under the moon’s glowing streams. His thin lips smiled an eerie smile and his entire body stood completely still, except for the many irreverent locks of his hair of a strong crimson color and his loose clothes, which swayed back and forth with the breeze. On his forehead, right above his left eye, a single word was written in vivid red, the only word that didn’t seem to make sense in him. On his back, a heavy-looking gourd seemed to whisper and protest slightly on the inside, as if wanting to set something terrible free.
As he was, the boy seemed to be meditating, at peace, but the blood boiling inside his veins proved otherwise, the mix of violent thoughts and unmet expectations twirling inside his mind made him restless, impatient, dangerous. All that, all the waiting, stillness and discipline had a purpose, a dark purpose.
The boy remained in this state for such a long time that even the moon went on with her path, until the breeze picked up speed and began bringing small grains of sand with it besides the warm desert air. Noticing this difference, the boy finally slid his eyelids open, revealing the two bright jade orbs that were his eyes, almost tingling with latent excitement. His smile spread as he faced the moon and the long awaited voice echoed inside his head.
“Go. Go now...”
He could do nothing (and didn’t want to do anything) but obey his mother’s voice with a will and loyalty that would frighten most people, heading from rooftop to rooftop towards the accomplishment of a goal he had in mind for so long, his gaze locked on one spot only.
He began thinking about him, of how even his own father complimented his achievements, his qualities, of how he was considered the top Jonin of the Sand Village. He remembered all the reasons why he was the perfect target, how he discovered all the hatred that he also used to defeat his enemies, a hatred for them that was even comparable to his own, that made him kill with no regret at all. As he kept moving closer to him, the desire to finally get there grew more and more and the boy (and his mother inside him too) found himself with his heart racing in excitement.
A person with such features would certainly be a formidable adversary, would certainly make him feel alive for the rest of the month and, most important than all, his blood would certainly be good enough for his mother, would prevent her from punishing him legitimately that time...
He would not be a coward like the last one, he would not run away at the sight of him, not like the last one... The boy was sure of that.
And when he found himself facing the building where he lived, the exhilaration was too much to keep inside, and the boy let it out in rushed, rhythmic breaths.
“I am going to get him, mother, just the way you like it... I promise...”
Getting inside the house silently was very easy for the boy, the lightness of his steps making no noise at all and the roughness of his sighs carefully masked by the now rushing breeze. For each steady step he took, his heart beat a hundred times, his mind twirled a million.
The boy passed by all rooms in the house and headed directly towards his bedroom, where he was probably enjoying some sleep. And, when he was standing at the threshold and finally saw him, his thoughts were in complete chaos, all he wanted was to squeeze the life out of his peaceful, sleeping form, this man that was considered a threat to him.
Then, suddenly, the boy was struck by a powerful, stinging, furious headache that made him grab his head with both hands, fall on his knees, moaning loudly in unbearable pain, and the cork of the gourd suddenly popped free, followed by a thick stream of foul-smelling sand.
“Y-yes, mother, you are right... There would not be enough blood that way... I’m sorry for being so hasty, please forgive me...”
Slowly, the headache faded away, allowing the boy to stand again, and now he knew for sure what he had to do. He had to be awake, he wanted to see his life abandon his eyes.
He finally approached the dormant figure, the sand leaving the gourd and forming several trails around him, as if to grab him when he finally regained conscience.
But, when the man was finally close enough to touch, the figure revealed to be nothing more than a decoy, a replacement, and the boy had been fooled.
“You are the Fourth Kazekage’s youngest son, aren’t you?” a voice asked from behind the boy. He immediately turned to face the real him, surprise underlined in his expression. The man looked slightly disturbed, but surely prepared for anything. That made the boy smile like before. Now his mother could see this one would not run away. Now, everything would go according to plan. “What are you doing here, at this time of the night?”
The smile remained when the boy replied, “I just need to... feel alive...”
A thick torrent of sand was thrown at the man as soon as the boy finished his sentence, but he was able to dodge it. The feeling of excitement reached its climax in battle, and the boy was fighting with both his fear of this man’s abilities and his anticipated joy of this man’s defeat.
The boy playfully attacked him again several times, and the way he gracefully escaped each time awoke an immense amount of sheer and unexplainable happiness inside him, allowed him to see his own hatred and courage shinning off his eyes and, most importantly, gained his mother’s certain and loud approval of him. This known, there was no further need to postpone the inevitable, and so the boy decided to end the battle.
A single movement of his trembling, ecstatic hand and the sand covered the man’s body entirely, leaving nothing but his head showing, lifting him off the ground. Even then, the man struggled to free from the hopeless trap and did not beg for his life once, something that amplified the boy’s grin. How wonderful it would be to defeat an adversary like him!
And then, since his mother was at the peak of her pleasure, all the boy did was to close the same hand quickly, making the sand trap close upon itself suddenly, crushing all the man’s bones, flesh and organs into an indistinct disgusting mass, killing him instantly and showering the entire bedroom with blood, endless streams of precious, warm, sultry blood.
His mother loudly rejoiced with her son’s job, sending every grain of sand to collect each and every drop of the unique and spread blood. The boy fell on his knees one more time, but this time in pure thankfulness, as he let the blood still dripping from the man’s disfigured body fall into his open hands with pleasure, grinning widely at his success.
“I told you, mother... I promised it would be good...”
And, as he saw his glorious reflection on the blood on his hands, the boy felt more alive than ever, because he faced an equal opponent in battle and he survived, he proved that his power was greater than his.
And, of course, he felt utterly happy too. Because he was able to please his mother even if he knew that she would make him do it all over again next month.
Because, for a whole month, she would not punish him.
For a whole month, she would not ignore him, like everyone else.
For a whole month, she would not let him be alone.
For a whole month, the boy would have someone with him, even if her.
For a whole month, the boy would not be abandoned.
And that was all that mattered, in the end.
HE was all that mattered...
“I promise... Next time, it will be even better...”
[Reviews - 0]
Table of Contents
- Text Size +
Chapter notes: Hello, new readers! As you can tell, this is my first Naruto fanfic, and this one will be centered in Gaara’s past, when he still killed under the influence of Shukaku and his own beliefs. It is an oneshot, and it will only serve as a study of the character back then. Actually, my heart kind of broke whenever I saw Gaara trying to please Shukaku, but some people don’t understand him, so I wrote this. I’ll soon begin writing a long fanfic about Gaara and everyone that contributed to make him the extraordinary person he is now. But, as it is, I hope you enjoy this and get to understand the younger Gaara better!
On with the story!
Chapter end notes: Well, that was it ^^;
The he/him/his in italics always refer to the Jonin, if you didn’t understand...
I hope this enriched you in any way...
See ya next time!
kathlaida princess logging out...