Random Anime Oneshots

Gaara x Reader

|requested|

Hey a little warning that it's like 4000 words

Let's just say the attack never happened

The stadium buzzed with excitement. Shouts, jeers, and cheers all crashed together, but Y/N Uzumaki sat quietly in the stands, her fingers laced in her lap. Her brother was up next to fight, and though her heart pounded for him, her eyes kept drifting to the boy everyone had whispered about.

Gaara of the Sand.

The monster.

The jinchūriki who killed without hesitation.

She tilted her head, watching the way he stood off to the side, separate from his siblings even in the waiting area. His arms were folded, expression blank, but the dark rings around his eyes gave him away. He looked tired. Not the kind of tired that came from lack of sleep, but from carrying a weight too heavy for one person.

Y/N felt that tug in her chest again. She understood loneliness. Naruto had saved her from it, but the memory of it never really left.

Hours later, after the fights were done for the day, Y/N found herself wandering the quieter halls of the arena. Her brother had run off to eat with friends, leaving her in the hush of the corridors. She rounded a corner—then froze.

Gaara was there, leaning against the wall, his gourd resting heavily on his back. Sand curled lazily at his feet like a living thing. His pale eyes lifted to hers immediately, sharp and alert, and the sand shifted threateningly.

Y/N instinctively raised her hands, her voice soft but steady.

"I—I didn't mean to startle you."

His gaze narrowed. "You're... Naruto's sister."

"Yes," she admitted, folding her hands back down. She could feel the way the sand still trembled at his command. "And you're Gaara of the Sand."

He tilted his head slightly, almost mocking. "That's what they call me. Monster. Weapon. Take your pick."

Y/N swallowed. His words were cold, but beneath them she heard something else—acceptance. She shook her head gently.

"I didn't mean it like that. I just... wanted to say, you fought well today."

Gaara blinked, his expression flickering for the briefest moment. "Well?" he repeated, as if testing the word on his tongue.

"Yes," she said with a small nod. "Precise. Strong. Controlled. Most people don't notice those things. They just... see what they're afraid of."

The sand around his feet stilled. His eyes, wide with something unreadable, searched hers. "Why are you saying this?"

"Because it's true," Y/N said simply. "And... because I know what it feels like to be looked at like you don't belong. Like you're dangerous just for existing." She hesitated, then smiled, small and shy. "But you're more than that. I can see it."

Gaara stared at her. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel the urge to silence someone's voice. Instead, he let the sand settle fully back into the gourd.

"You're strange," he muttered at last, though his tone lacked venom.

Y/N's lips curved upward just a little. "So they say."

A silence stretched between them—not uncomfortable, but fragile, like something newly formed. When Temari's voice echoed down the hall, calling Gaara's name, he straightened.