Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Gaara's Story ❯ Bakemono! ( Chapter 1 )

Sabaku no Gaara swung back and forth slowly on the porch swing, a ragged teddy bear clutched in one hand. The bright sun shone high in the azure sky and contained all the heat of true summer. Birds fluttered across it, singing for absolutely no reason. Other children ran and played soccer with a worn red leather ball. In short, the day was beautiful.

Gaara's thoughts were, sadly, not so pretty.

He was remembering how, the night before, he had gone outside to dig holes in the garden after supper. His brother Kankorou—older by two years—and sister Temari—older by a year—were there already. They pointed and laughed at him, then ran away when he tried to approach them. Gaara still felt the hot, burning anger as he recalled the memory.

The boy was short for his six years. He had close-cropped red hair, and big, faint blue eyes. But there was something wrong with those eyes.

A thick blackness surrounded them, a blackness that looked like paint, though it was anything but. This was because of the creature inside him, the creature that the adults of the village Hidden-in-the-Sand called the Shukkaku when they thought he wasn't listening, and the children called the Two-Tailed Racoon when they knew he was. Gaara called it the beast. The beast was what made everyone afraid of him, the beast and the sand.

Gaara was an experiment. Whilst Gaara was in his mother's womb, the Shukkaku was placed inside him. The first person Gaara had ever killed was his mother, as a sacrifice, when he was born. Which was another reason for people to fear him. It helped a little that his father was the Lord Kazekage—Gaara wasn't quite so picked on or ignored—but the governor's protection of his youngest son only went so far. And right now, the Kazekage was off visiting the Hokage of village Hidden-in-the-Leaf. I don't want to be alone anymore…

But someday I'll be the Kazekage, Gaara reminded himself with a sigh. Then people won't ignore me and be afraid of me.

He slid off the swing and hopped off the porch onto the ground. He dropped his teddy bear. With a grunt, he bent to pick it up.

He was startled when his small hands met leather instead of fuzz.

Gaara blinked and picked up the worn red ball. Looking around, he saw a group of children—three boys and two girls—milling fearfully about ten feet away. His heart twisted at the sight of that fear—whether in pleasure or despair, he did not know—but he smiled at them, held up the ball, and said shyly, “Hi. Here's your ball. D'you think I could join you?”

The fear broke. “Run away!” screamed one of the boys, turning and bolting in terror. The other four followed his example, whirling away and careening at full speed up the lawn.

Don't go… The sand came. The sand that killed and invoked fear. The sand that protected any wounds from being inflicted on his body, stopped him from feeling any type of physical pain.

The sand launched itself from a point somewhere behind him, over his shoulder and towards the children. They screamed in collective horror and somehow found the strength to run faster.

One tripped, a girl named Aku. Instantly the sand turned on itself and grabbed her leg and both arms, pinning her to the ground. Gaara raised his hand and gestured. Aku screamed and thrashed, pressing her head to the ground in a futile attempt to shield herself. Gaara flexed his hand, obedient to the fury inside him, and the sand readied itself, arcing above the girl for a killing blow.

“YAAAAH!”

The shout startled him into slowing the sand slightly, as a man flung himself down out of nowhere in front of Aku. The sand deflected off his arms, crossed in front of his face. He raised distressed lavender eyes to Gaara's, and shook some pale blonde hair out of his face. “Gaara-sama, you must calm down!” he cried. Y-Yoshomaru-san? Gaara slowly lowered his arm. The sand fell back to the ground with an fsk sound. Aku clambered to her feet and ran off, blood running down her arms and leg. She was limping horribly.

The man wore the vest and general garb of a Jounin-rank ninja. He wore his headband across his forehead. He knelt in front of Gaara and put a fatherly hand on his shoulder, smiling kindly at the boy. “U-u-uncle Y-Y-Yoshomaru-s-san,” Gaara stammered. “I-I-I—”

His face crumpled, and he fell forwards into Yoshomaru's arms, his sobs as uncontrollable as the sand had been. The Jounin held him tightly as the child cried.

 

Later that night. The moon shone high in the dark sky. Diamond-like stars winked around it. Gaara trotted along the road, carrying a small package and humming a small tune. He was heading for Aku's house.

He slipped through the garden gate, stopped to watch a water snake glide away through the pond, then skipped up to her porch. He rapped sharply on the door and waited.

Aku herself opened the door, a pleasant smile on her face. When she saw who it was, the pleasantness vanished, to be replaced by fearful wariness. Feeling suddenly very shy, Gaara smiled at her. “Hi,” he said hesitantly. “I'm sorry about earlier. Bet it hurt, didn't it?” He raised his package and offered it to her. “You can use this ointment if you want.”

Aku stared at him for a nanosecond, then pulled her head back through the door, slamming it shut. “Go home!” she yelled through the wood. And then, a second later, she added, “Bakemono!”

Bakemono?

Monster?

Gaara lowered the package of ointment, face a stricken mask of pain. Bakemono? Gently, he put the ointment on the doorstep, turned and ran off. This time he ignored the water snake.