Beads of sweat falls from your forehead, and you pant heavily. Weakly, you stumble back into your village, clutching your side which is bleeding. Each breath that you take is shaky, almost failing to exit or enter your cold lips. Then, grains of sand cover the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Looking up, you see the familiar redhead whom you know as the Kazekage of your village.
In a still voice, he asks, "Are you alright?"
With an unstable voice, you mutter out, "I'm fine." He is the last person you want to show weakness towards.
"Yes. Heavy bleeding is fine. Let us go to the hospital."
"I don't need you to escort me, Lord Kazekage."
Instead of answering you, gentle and soft sand nudges your forward, supporting you so that you can walk. He is silent, though that is normal for him: he is a quiet man. At the hospital, your wounds are bandaged up, and you walk out of the room to find the same redhead from before. This makes you purse your lips. Why can you not shake his company? You do not want it. Why cannot he take a hint?
"I will walk you home." He says, already beginning to walk out, but then stops upon remembering how you struggle to walk. "Come here."
"Wha-" He grabs onto you, putting your arm around his shoulder to support your body.
"You will take time off from missions for the time being. At least a month before you can go on another, though I would prefer two or three. Unless I absolutely need a shinobi to dispatch and have no one else, your recovery will be slow."
"After a couple weeks I should be fine."
"I was not requesting this. I am the Kazekage, and ultimately, it is my decision."
"Fine."
"Mom! Dad!" At the age of six, you crumble into the ground and sob in front of the lifeless bodies of your parents. "How could you...?" You look up at a boy with red hair, who is three years older than you.
"That is my purpose. To kill. To destroy the lives of those around me... that is the only thing that makes me feel alive!"
"You monster! You're a monster! Your murderous-"
"Go ahead. Cry. Sob. I'll kill you, too, someday." A psychotic grin plasters onto his face. "Just when you're older."
"Kill me now... I don't wanna live anymore..."
"How can I enjoy killing you if you want it? Stupid girl. You're so stupid."
He walks away, sand trailing behind him, though some wraps around your neck, causing it to bleed. As it falls away, you find the Kanji for "love" written there, as a reminder of this awful day: it matches the one on his forehead. You begin to sob uncontrollably, screaming and clawing at the ground. Six-years-old. At six-years-old you watch your parents die as you could do nothing.
And they died by the hands of Gaara of the Sand, jinchuuriki of Shukaku the One Tails.
Once at your house, you try to go inside on your own, but he follows you. Trying not to seem disrespectful, you offer him tea, to which he accepts politely. Nervously, you sit on the opposite end of the couch after handing him his cup of tea.
"What happened?" He asks you.
"I got into a fight, and they weren't exactly weak. So, it resulted in a lot of injuries. Regardless, I won."
"That was dangerous. I knew an S-Rank mission was too much for you. I shouldn't have listened to Temari..."
"I can handle it, I just left my guard down a bit."
