Prologue

 

 

The silent figure was watching the students pitch shuriken and kunai at the broad targets only a short distance away in what would appear to most as severe boredom, when he sensed the unmistakable chakra signature. Gaara's senses prickled, flaring to life and picking it up quite some time before it actually neared enough for its owner's location to be pinpointed. Immediately it drew his attention since during his extended stay in Konohagakure his borderline obsessive curiosity had driven him to, on several occasions, seek out this particular individual but with no success.

 

Shukaku stirred.

 

“Uzumaki Naruto.”

 

Several of the academy children nearest him turned to see why their sensei appeared to be speaking to thin air. Some distance away, Temari and Kankuro glanced warily at one another then at their sibling, their desperate hope that the familiar chakra would go unnoticed instantly vanishing, replaced by well merited apprehension.

 

The older siblings had been horribly unprepared for the unprecedented level of Weird that Gaara would reach as result of his encounter with Naruto. The first stage had been withdrawal. And to say that Gaara of the Desert was withdrawn was saying something. The usual two words per day he'd allocated himself dwindled to less than that per week in the months that followed their return.

 

The night they'd returned to Suna he had completely vanished.

 

An entire week passed with no trace of Gaara, no clues to his whereabouts. Panic reigned in Sunagakure for those seven days. It was to be expected, however, though nothing could be done to calm or prevent it. Their small village was temporarily without a Kazekage, there was fear of retaliation from Konoha for their betrayal, of the possibility of another attack from Orochimaru, and their best defense—and greatest horror—was who knew where planning who knew what against who knew who.

 

Kankuro had scoured the surrounding desert for miles, a gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach telling him that he had just missed his unbalanced little brother, though he had no physical evidence or notable chakra signature the validate this knowledge. Only the unsettling feeling of—no, knowing—that he was being watched was the only proof of his convictions. He knew that feeling well. He'd grown up with it and though it usually rendered him silent and anxious, he forced it away and continued to search, even shouting unanswered questions into the dry oppressive air. At least he was still relatively close to Suna instead of working through his unheard of defeat by wreaking havoc on the unprepared and unsuspecting. Kankuro had absolutely no idea what he'd say or do to convince Gaara to return once he found him but leaving Gaara to roam while in that state of mind simply wasn't an option. When his efforts proved fruitless, he returned to the village to let Temari know of his `findings'.

 

And just in time.

 

Temari was in the middle of organizing a return to Konoha, fearful that Gaara had returned there to finish off both the Uchiha and Uzumaki, maybe even Konoha as a whole, and Kankuro was doing his best to talk the stubborn girl out of it until they had more information when the AWOL ninja in question had casually strolled through the village gates looking worse for wear, from a direction that held nothing but vast and desolate desert. He had slowly made his way to his home, ignoring the stares and the questions a select few had been brave enough to aim at him, and locked himself away in his room, not showing himself for another two days.

 

When he did emerge, Temari and Kankuro almost wished he chosen to stay in exile.

 

The second stage of this thing had been reflection.

 

An intense kind of analytical reflection that gave birth to infrequent, but random and often horrifying questions that neither sibling was equipped to answer. The questions themselves had been disturbing enough but it was the tone, the change in Gaara's eyes and demeanor and perceptions that had truly made them wonder what this defeat had done to him. There was something in his solemn voice that at times resembled wonder. Wonder crossbred with resentment.

 

“He was so strong because of others? How?”

 

“What does it really mean to love someone?”

 

“Am I one of your precious people?”

 

The latter question had been directed at a hapless Kankuro and the puppet master had promptly choked on the air in his mouth. To his enormous relief however, Gaara had quietly stood and left the room before Kankuro could even begin to piece together a response.

 

Temari, only slightly better at these types of things, had done her best to answer the intermittent barrage of inquiries, none of which seemed to completely satisfy her moody brother. However when phase three began, even the normally level-headed and straightforward kunoichi stalled and stood slack jawed from some of the things that her younger brother said and did.

 

It felt downright wrong at first, these sudden and sporadic bursts of affection Gaara had begun to display. But to Gaara's credit, he'd always given warning.

 

“I am going to…hug you,” he'd informed Temari late one afternoon after abruptly appearing in her room.

 

It was cloaked in the same quiet ominous tone that his threats came in and despite the words themselves, it definitely had the feel of a threat to Temari. Her fearful shock, however, quickly faded and was replaced by a flicker of helpless pity when Gaara's face scrunched slightly in concentration as he tentatively set about performing the alien gesture. His arms had awkwardly enfolded her waist and he'd pulled her close, resting his head gently on the curve of her shoulder, mimicking what he'd seen others do.

 

Something inside Temari's chest seemed to constrict when her youngest brother lifted his head to look at her, expression confused and disappointed and accusing, as if to say `Why doesn't this feel the way I thought it would?' He had been thirteen at the time but looked much younger, much more vulnerable at that moment. It pained her, made her realized just how truly emotionally stunted and isolated Gaara must be to not even enjoy or understand the simplest forms of affection. How strange and frustrating it must be to attempt to bridge the gap between them, form real bonds with his siblings. Temari's arms rose almost without her knowledge and embraced Gaara in a real hug, eliciting a surprised sound from them both. The redhead stiffened and Temari heard the sand whisper prophetically inside the gourd but it relaxed as Gaara did, settling as he settled.

 

“….nee-chan…?”

 

The intimate title had never been used before and she hugged a little tighter, wordlessly telling him that she approved. Frightening though it was, suddenly Temari felt maybe the changes in Gaara weren't as bad as she'd initially thought. Gaara seemed to need so much, want so much and yet had no clue how to properly go about getting it and probably didn't grasp what it was he needed..

 

The whole hugging thing hadn't gone over so well with Kankuro.

 

In fact, his face had invented a new shade of red and he'd fled the room the moment Gaara had let him go, too traumatized to even breathe for several long seconds. But when the psycho had begun referring to him as `nii-san' on occasion, even Kankuro couldn't deny the odd something he'd felt. Gaara's voice had held a note of neediness, or maybe expectancy and the very idea of Gaara being needy brought out a brotherly instinct previously only reserved for Temari. Something defensive and angry. Gaara might've been a homicidal demon-possessed sociopath but the bottom line was he was still his little brother. His little brother who'd spent his life being feared and hated and shunned. His little brother who'd just been injured and defeated for the very first time and was even more of an emotional mess inside than usual and who needed something from him and his sister. His little brother who'd been burdened and alone since his birth, forced into an unnatural existence he had no control over. His little brother who deserved more than that.

 

After a few extremely uncomfortable months of adjustment, Gaara's new and strange behavior became the norm, or as close to `the norm' as the three of them would ever get, and gradually the siblings became a bit more like actual siblings. And just when things seemed okay and being around Gaara was actually almost pleasant at times, Uzumaki Naruto had to show up. Who knew what seeing him face to face again would do to Gaara this time, what kind of new behavior this little reunion would encourage.

 

Kankuro suddenly envisioned his little brother trapping him in another one of those Gaara Hugs, or maybe initiating heart to heart talks, maybe even asking him to explain the birds and the bees……and shuddered.

 

He glanced helplessly at Temari and saw his own worry reflected in the blue of her eyes.

 

They'd known it would happen eventually, even though word around Konoha was that the blond loudmouth was off training with a legendary sannin. Konoha was still Naruto's home and it stood to reason that he'd come back on occasion. And although the likelihood of the three of them being in town during the times they periodically helped at the academy and Naruto returning for a visit was relatively slim, it did not mean it was impossible. As they were now finding out.

 

Before either could think of a word to say, a small localized whirlwind of flaxen sand abruptly sprung to life and Gaara was gone.

 

~*~

 

The presence was dwindling, moving away. Not running but moving away all the same. Gaara followed, not really knowing what he would do or say once he reached it.

 

He felt…compelled.

 

Naruto had haunted his thoughts for nearly two years. Taunting him with his seemingly carefree spirit, his strength, his friends. His understanding. Naruto, apparently like everyone who wasn't Gaara, seemed to understand things in a way he simply could not. Naruto seemed to have a firm grasp on what it meant to have precious people, what it meant to love and be loved by someone other than himself, what it meant to have a life with true meaning and purpose, what it meant to have real strength.

 

Gaara boggled.

 

How could someone who seemed so like himself feel the way he did about others? What was so great and empowering about loving others when it left a person so exposed, vulnerable to unimaginable pain? Love for others complicated otherwise simple things, created enormous problems where before there were none. Love was a contradiction. A paradox. An illogical emotion that Gaara had always felt was entirely useless and overrated. And at the same time one he'd always had a crippling need to experience.

 

He thought he was experiencing love with Temari and Kankuro, deciding that the small twinges of warmth he felt inside when they joked and smiled genuine and fearless smiles at him was it. And it was. But Kankuro and Temari were his family and were almost obligated to love him. Naruto had precious people who weren't family and not obligated to love him but loved him anyway. Loved him of their own freewill simply because he was Naruto. His slowly strengthening bond with his siblings was soothing the hollowness inside to some extent, helping keep the chaos at bay, but it was not enough. There was something else he needed to understand, to feel. There was something missing, something more. For some reason, Gaara knew that to know what that something was, Naruto needed to be involved. Naruto understood things, possessed things that he wanted for himself.

 

The look on Naruto's face wasn't one of shock, Gaara noted as he appeared in an elegant swirl of sand before him. Not that he'd really expected it to be. Certainly Naruto had sensed him approaching.

 

The two stood staring at one another for a moment in complete silence, Naruto a bit wide eyed but with a vague smile on his lips. Gaara intense, not a trace of expression to be found.

 

Naruto was not overly concerned. He knew Gaara wasn't there to hurt him. Though with Gaara it was always a good idea to be on some level of Ready, regardless. And even if he had been, he'd beaten him before and after training with Jiraiya he felt could certainly do so again if the need arose. No. Gaara was here for the same reason he was here. For the same reason he'd been watching him on occasion at the academy. For more than a week.

 

Gaara was a being like himself, a jinchuuriki, someone who knew and understood what it meant to have another presence inside. Someone who knew and understood how it felt to be truly different from literally everyone else. Knew what it meant to struggle with wondering if your thoughts and feelings and actions were your own or those of the one you housed. And though Gaara didn't know that yet, Naruto still felt a certain kinship with him somehow and had wondered often how he was faring since their last meeting, had wondered if he had found acknowledgment or had fallen further into darkness. He wanted to reach out to him, let him know that he understood and that things could change for him but wasn't sure how to go about it.

 

Across from him with arms crossed over his chest, Gaara seemed exactly as he'd been before. Very calm and composed, scrutinizing him in that detached way that inspired fear in most people, only his slightly lowered `brows' lending him something of an expression. Calm and composed were relative terms, however. Naruto knew firsthand that composed and deranged could be nearly identical on Gaara's face.

 

“You've been watching me,” Gaara intoned, finally breaking the silence.

 

Naruto's face broke into a wide, sheepish grin as he scratched the back of his head.

 

“Yeah, well, when I heard they let you three help out at the academy I had to see it for myself,” he chuckled, truly amazed that Gaara had even agreed to such a thing.

 

Gaara could understand Naruto's amusement.

 

The prospect of spending a week of every month or so at Konoha's Ninja Academy for an indefinite period of time had very little appeal to him or his siblings but a mission was a mission and they all knew they owed at least that much to Konoha. The attack on Konoha during the Chuunin exam had been extensive, devastating a third of the village and with many Jounin and Chuunin busy taking as many missions as possible to bring in money for desperately needed repairs as well as to prove their village's unshakable prowess, the village was left extraordinarily shorthanded in many areas for quite some time and Sand had volunteered their assistance.

 

Thankfully Temari and Kankuro had done most of the work where the children were concerned. Gaara had been drafted as overseer of target practice since the sand made him the least vulnerable to danger from clumsily wielded weapons. Aside from giving the occasional pointer and having to ignore endless questions about his Sand and gourd and whether or not he was really the Gaara of the Desert, Gaara hadn't had to do very much. In fact he had come to anticipate his trips to Konoha. It was interesting—almost rewarding—to note that the kids improved a little each time he saw them. That and the possibility of seeing Naruto had made his visits bearable.

 

“It's a mission,” Gaara said in response, though it was a half truth. It was a mission but it was also one of the many ways Sand was rebuilding the bridge it had burned a few years ago. Improving relations was still one of their biggest priorities and, truth be told, Gaara did not mind doing his part. The was reason standing right in front of him.

 

Gaara's unwavering jade stare was making Naruto curious as to what might be going on inside that red head of his. He seemed to be drinking in every detail of him and yet evaluating him in a manner that might've meant he was still on guard even though it should be obvious that he meant no harm. Truthfully, Naruto was doing the same. Gaara hadn't changed much at all, only a bit taller and slightly broader though still small for his age. Naruto was pleased to note that he was finally taller than someone. It was only by a few scant centimeters but taller all the same. The tattoo that graced his forehead was now nearly hidden by lengthier locks and the gourd did not look quite so massive on his frame any more. Still, seeing it stirred unpleasant memories.

 

“Um…wanna go get some lunch with me?”

 

The question caused Gaara's face to go completely blank as he realized this was the first time anyone had ever invited him anywhere. For anything. It was the first time anyone was willingly choosing to be in his presence. Not even his brother or sister bothered to invite him along when they went out, assuming that he wouldn't be interested in the kinds of things they did for fun. Their assumption was correct. Gaara was far from social, but it would have been nice to know his company was wanted.

 

“… and I always go there when I'm home because Ichiraku's has the best ramen and I've got these free—”

 

“Yes.”

 

Naruto blinked. Then blinked again and a moment later Gaara watched as what appeared to be a genuine smile of delight quickly spread across his whiskered face. It was nearly time for the academy children as well as himself and his siblings to break for lunch and Kankuro and Temari were perfectly capable of handling things until his first outing was over.

 

Naruto started off in the direction of the village's center, continuing his praise of Ichiraku ramen. Gaara followed where Naruto led.