Salvation
A/N: I am obsessed with Gaara. And sometimes with GaaNaru. That's all, really.
This fic looks like I wrote it with no idea of what I was talking about. ...that's because I did, really. I wrote it right after Gaara got kidnapped by the Akatsuki from Suna, so all the following events that he's pondering are totally from my imagination.
Gaara was not sure of exactly when Naruto had become such an integral part of his life. He thought it could be blamed largely on Tsunade, somehow. The Hokage had turned Naruto into something of an unofficial emissary from Konoha to the Sand village. This made perfect sense, even if it was a bit self-serving. Naruto liked to travel and he liked to go see his friends, and it just so happened that he was the only person living who could talk the current Kazekage into – well, into just about anything.
When Konoha needed allies to help with a dangerous mission, they almost always went to the Sand. And Naruto could almost always talk Gaara into helping. Gaara had never mentioned it, but he knew that oftentimes the person doing the dangerous mission was Naruto himself. If he didn’t lend support, and something happened, that would make it his fault.
He wondered exactly when he had become so damned uncomfortable at the thought of Naruto not being there anymore.
Temari and Kankurou put up with Naruto’s presence amongst them with as much good humor as Temari and Kankurou put up with anything, mostly because it made Gaara a little less dour when he was there. The blonde’s bouncy madcap habits could get a little irritating at times, but after Temari caught a smile – an actual smile, not his ‘I’m about to kill you’ smirk – twitching at one corner of Gaara’s mouth, they stopped complaining. She and Kankurou had stared at that facial expression for a good thirty seconds before Gaara caught them, and went back to glaring.
When Naruto was there, Gaara was better, that was all. The fact that Naruto cared about him did not take the sting out of what Gaara’s father and the village elders had done when they sealed Shukaku inside of him, and it did not take away the pain of his mother’s death, and it did not even touch the betrayal of the man who had taught him the word love. But it did remind Gaara that, in the world, there was at least one person who valued his existence as himself. As long as there was one person, he managed to keep from sliding back into the madness that had controlled him for so long. As long as he had a reason to exist other than killing people, he could remain himself. Naruto gave him that reason.
There had been time when he had not seen Naruto at all, while the Leaf genin was off training with Jiraiya. By the time he had gotten back, Gaara had not only been Kazekage, but he had been just days away from being violently removed from his village by Akatsuki.
And he knew that was when Naruto had really, once and for all, become a part of his life.
The rescue effort that had been sent to retrieve Gaara had been comprised of some impressive people once it had been put together – Naruto, Sakura, Kakashi, and Temari, for starters. Later they had added Kankurou, once he was feeling up to it, and the Konoha team of Gai, Neji, Rock Lee, and Tenten.
They had come for varying reasons: because it was their duty, because it was their country at stake, because they hated Akatsuki, because they wanted to protect each other.
For a long time, Gaara had thought that Naruto was the only one who had actually come to save him.
After a while, he had realized his error. After a while, his old instructor (not that Gaara had ever really needed instruction; it might be more accurate to say the person who had been responsible for holding his leash back when he was a genin) had told him about Kankurou and the way he had risked his own life trying to prevent Gaara from being taken.
// “Kankurou! They were at a level high enough to defeat Gaara! You won’t be able to do anything by yourself!”
“So you plan to just abandon Gaara?” //
Gaara had never been close to his siblings, for a variety of obvious reasons, but as he had gotten older and mellowed out somewhat, he had finally realized that they did care for him, even if they were both terrified of him when he was in one of his moods. This was nothing against them; it was quite intelligent to be terrified of Gaara in those moods, especially if there was a full moon. It had surprised him, how much Kankurou risked for him.
But that was explainable. That was family loyalty. That made sense.
Naruto made no sense.
They had met a handful of times, scattered out over a few years. They had fought viciously on one occasion, and then Gaara had saved the life of one of his friends on another occasion. It evened out, he supposed. But they didn’t know each other. Naruto had no reason to risk anything for Gaara. No reason at all.
There was a lot that Gaara didn’t remember after being abducted by Akatsuki, large blank spots in his memory. His sand had protected his body, for the most part, but there was nothing he’d been able to do about the ninjutsu that they had been using to try to pry Shukaku out of him. It had been painful; he remembered that much. He had felt little pain in his short life, but that was the worst.
What he remembered most was some sort of long, complicated ‘jutsu that he suspected was the final step to separating him from Shukaku. Shukaku had taken violent exception to the ‘jutsu; apparently it was just as painful for the demon as it was for the human. Gaara had half-transformed and started laying waste to the entire area, and he vaguely remembered hearing some of the Akatsuki marveling at the power he had, and how much they wanted that power to be their own, how they would use the monster before them. Everything after that was dim and sort of yellowish, the way it always was when he became Shukaku.
The clearest moment was when he heard a voice. Calm, confident, not the usual bouncy, jaunty sound, with an undertone of pure rage. Just a flat statement.
“We’re not monsters.”
Things had unraveled quickly after that. Gaara had a few moments to locate Naruto, standing there in a mix of furious red and blue chakra, and he had another few moments for it to slowly sink in that Naruto wasn’t just talking about himself, Naruto was talking about both of them, Naruto was talking about him, and Naruto didn’t think he was a monster.
That was about when Shukaku had taken over completely.
Gaara had been weakened, exhausted by the battle, and he didn’t remember if he had passed out, or if he had forced sleep upon himself as the last viable option. All he knew was floating somewhere in blackness, knowing in the back of his mind that Shukaku was going to use the opportunity to kill every living being in a fifty mile radius, knowing that he should care, that the Gaara who didn’t care was the old Gaara, the psychotic Gaara, the before-Naruto-Gaara, knowing that Shukaku was going to kill Naruto but he was just so damn tired –
And he heard Naruto calling his name.
// “Gaara! Come back to us! You’re stronger than this! GAARA!” //
He had snapped awake without Naruto laying a finger on him, and he was not a monster.
The sand caught him as he fell, and he looked around at the ravaged countryside, and had the vague sense of déjà vu from when he had become Shukaku and fought Naruto. He saw that Akatsuki’s members were still alive, and that Naruto was glowing in a bright ball of red and blue light.
He remembered lying and staring up into the sun, thinking of home, seeing Akatsuki heading for Naruto. He had passed out, or been hurt – Gaara wasn’t sure which. He clung to consciousness, to keep Shukaku from taking over. He was still barely awake when Kakashi and the others arrived, and the thin shell of sand around himself and Naruto was holding up firm to all of Akatsuki’s attacks.
Akatsuki had fled then; they apparently did not feel that, after fighting Gaara/Shukaku and Naruto, they were up to the relatively imposing threat Kakashi and his band of shinobi made. Gaara lay on his side and watched as Sakura rushed over to Naruto to check on him. He wondered if the others even realized that he was there.
That was the last thing he remembered for several days.
Temari later told him that he did not sleep or lose conscious; he merely wandered zombie-like through the next few days. Even during the final, disastrous battle with the Akatsuki, although he fought, he wasn’t really aware of what was going on around him. He had only one brief memory of Naruto wrapped in red chakra, and glowing eyes and nine tails. Gaara had never seen the kyubi before, but in that instant he had suddenly understood why Naruto knew how he felt. They were both monsters, but Naruto did not look like a monster. Gaara watched the kyubi and thought that although it was a thing of immense, destructive power, it was also somehow a beautiful creature.
Then again, who was he to judge?
They headed back for the Sand, to see the Kazekage and his siblings home safely, before the Leaf shinobi would go home.
He did remember arriving home, and that a few people had even been genuinely glad to see him, but most had hung back and stared at him in fear and revulsion the way they always had.
Home sweet home.
Naruto had been trudging along without a jot of his usual good cheer, and after they had all collapsed and most of them were asleep, Gaara had finally asked why. Naruto shrugged, muttered something about Sasuke and Orochimaru and missing-nins. Gaara didn’t press for further information.
“Hey,” Naruto said suddenly, late that night, after everyone else was asleep. “Lemme see your seal.”
Gaara had blinked at him, taken aback for a few moments. Then, seeing no real reason not to, he had lifted his shirt to reveal the place where Shukaku was sealed inside him. Naruto had laughed and said, “Just like mine.”
They sat there in silence for a moment.
“Do you trust me?” Naruto asked, and Gaara blinked at him for a few minutes.
Then he nodded, and realized as he nodded that it was true. He trusted Naruto. And only Naruto, out of the whole world.
The blonde shinobi performed some seals and then placed his hand over it, and Gaara felt an odd burning sensation for just a moment. He looked down to see another seal, a five-point seal, surrounding the one that had been there. “It’s a seal,” Naruto said, seeming quite proud of himself. “To suppress Shukaku’s power. You ought to be able to get some sleep now, ne?”
Gaara was still blinking, feeling somewhat shaken. It was not the prospect of undisturbed sleep that bothered him; in all truth, he had no idea what they would be like anyway. It was the fact that Naruto had just performed a ‘jutsu on him, and the sand had not reacted. Not one slightest bit. If anyone else had touched that seal, they would have been tossed across the room. But the sand had not reacted to Naruto as a threat.
He didn’t know what that meant.
The mind behind the sand had never been quite clear to Gaara. He sometimes thought it was his subconscious control, but the sand reacted to things that he had not yet sensed. He sometimes thought it was Shukaku’s doing, but it happened even when the demon was dormant. Yashamaru had suggested that it was the love of his mother, but Gaara was profoundly uncomfortable with that theory, in addition to finding it highly unlikely. He suspected that the truth behind his perfect defense was always going to be somewhat of a mystery.
Whatever controlled the sand, it had decided that Naruto was not a threat. It had taken Naruto some time to realize that, but once he had, he had from that point on taken great glee in glomping onto Gaara whenever the opportunity presented itself, despite the sand shinobi’s protests.
“Sleep, Gaara,” Naruto had said, and would say every time they repeated this for years, almost a ritual. “I’ll keep the demon away.”
Gaara had closed his eyes and slept, for the first time in his life, without worry of what would happen to him. He had woken some time later to hear steady breathing, almost a light snore, and he had rolled over to see Naruto sound asleep next to him. There was a slight noise, and Gaara jerked upright to see Jiraiya sitting next to the bed.
“He asked me to stay up with you two,” Jiraiya said, gesturing to Naruto. “He couldn’t stay awake anymore, but he said Shukaku was fighting the seal and it might dissolve if he left it untended.”
Gaara managed a slight ‘oh’ and then looked over at Naruto. The other teenager was clearly exhausted, but he looked peaceful in sleep.
“It was tough for him,” Jiraiya said. “These past few weeks. But he was determined to save you.”
“I wish I knew why.” The words fell out of Gaara’s mouth without permission, but they were true nonetheless. He didn’t understand Naruto, not one tiny bit. His devotion to someone he had barely met was bewildering, especially when he had more important people, like Sasuke, to think about.
“Don’t be stupid.” Jiraiya reached out to cuff Gaara lightly upside the head, but the sand stopped him. “You two are friends, right?”
Around then, Gaara decided that all people from Konoha were crazy, and it was useless to try to understand.
“You two are a lot alike,” Jiraiya said. “That’s all. I guess Naruto feels like he understands you.”
Gaara watched Naruto snooze on, and thought that this was a crock. Naruto couldn’t understand him, not when the blonde shinobi was such a mystery himself.
He fell back asleep, confused and lonely, but far less lonely than before. Naruto rolled over and Gaara was dimly aware, just before he fell asleep, that the teenager was hugging him like a large stuffed plushie. It was enough to be embarrassing, but Gaara had never been held before, hadn’t even been touched since Yashamaru had died. Even if he had wanted Naruto to let go, he was asleep before he could protest.
Naruto and the others left the next day.
Before they went, Gaara had pulled him aside. The five-point seal had dissolved once Naruto had stopped consciously trying to keep it there, and the familiar pressure of Shukaku against his mind was back in full force. But Gaara didn’t mind.
“Thank you,” he said.
Naruto had blinked at him for a minute, then cracked a wide grin. “Hey, no problem,” he said. “I figure if I could manage to save the Kazekage, I’m destined to be Hokage for sure, huh? This was all just part of my grand plan! We understand each other, right?”
Gaara wanted to shout, wanted to kick something, wanted to kill something. No, he did not understand. He did not understand Naruto one tiny little bit and he resented the implication that Naruto understood him. Naruto knew what the pain and the loneliness felt like, yes, but Naruto didn’t understand anything.
Laughing maniacally, Naruto left, and Gaara wondered when he would see the shinobi again.
“C’mon,” Temari had said, a note of rough affection in her voice. “Let’s go home.”
But Gaara didn’t go; he stood there watching until Naruto and the other Konoha shinobi were completely out of sight. Vanished into the distance. He felt a pang in his chest.
// “Why does it hurt, Yashamaru?”
“Because it’s a wound to your heart. And there’s only one cure for wounds to the heart.”
“What is it?”
“It’s love.” //
And that was when he understood, standing there with one hand fisted in the cloth above his chest.
He and Naruto didn’t understand each other at all. They only understood themselves. But what Naruto understood – and what Gaara now realized – was that they were connected because Gaara so easily could have been Naruto, and Naruto could have so easily been Gaara.
// “I understand what it feels like . . . the loneliness . . . the pain . . . but I found people that cared for me.” //
“I found people that cared for me,” Gaara murmured underneath his breath, and Temari gave him a questioning look that he ignored, and Gaara understood.
Naruto had been able to save him because he had already been saved.
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