On The Path Of Loneliness (Gaara)
When Gaara has changed for the better and became the Kazekage, he never expected to meet someone that can make him feel so guilty of what he had done in the past, especially not someone from another village. Therefore, he has vowed to atone for what he had done by protecting her regardless of what protests she has. But can guarding her from the secret of the relation between them help her, or not?
Submitter Notes: This is my first creation on this site, so hopefully it won't be a total waste of time to read, as I've thought of the story for some time now. There'll be slight spoilers for those of you who had never seen the second part of Naruto...but you can read it all the same! It may seem like I'm rushing a little in the story, but that's only because I want to get this out today. So I hope you like it!!!
I shielded my eyes while squinting up at the glaring sun in the sky. Judging from its position on the sky, it should be somewhere past noon now; which means I’ve been walking nonstop for around five hours in this endless desert. My stomach rumbled with protestant, and shortly after, a stabbing pain reached it, causing me to land roughly on my knees. The tattered bag I was carrying shifted on my shoulder a little from the sudden movement.
I knew there was nothing edible in my bag, but I still opened it and looked inside. My change of clothes were folded quite roughly and stuffed on top of the other objects as I fled from the last village, which explains why they were all tangled up as I reached for the bottom of the tattered bag. No food reached my fingers when they did reach the bottom; instead, they came in contact with a slender, smooth object.
My eyes widened, and then, as if I had all of my energies recharged, I withdrew my arm from the bag and bounced hurriedly back up, continuing walking to the direction I was facing. The hunger and thirst I had before did not cease, but I was reminded again of my purpose of walking in this direction; of why I was going through this immense desert.
“Kimimaro-nii-san,” I whispered, to no one in particular, “I’m coming. Don’t go anywhere, just stay there and wait for me, okay?”
After another three hours of trudging through the desert, I realized that the piercing pain on my shoulders, the soles of my feet and the pit of my stomach were the least of my problems. The reason was because of the fact that I was beginning to hallucinate.
I must have been hallucinating.
Far off in the distance, I could see a small black figure seemingly heading my way. The speed and swiftness of the figure indicated that they probably aren’t just someone taking a stroll in this desert. They must be a ninja, on a mission.
The ninja must have noticed me too, as they had begun to speed up. As we close up the distance between us, the ninja’s figure was getting clearer and clearer too. Now I could see that they were carrying something on their back, a scroll, maybe. I strained to see more details, but before I could get a good view of anything, the blackness of the ninja’s clothes started spreading over my line of vision. Soon, everything was dark. Even when I look up to where I thought the sun was...it was still the same darkness.
I was so sure that my eyes were wide open, so I had a quick notion that I was going blind. But before I had a chance to test to see if that notion was true, I had lost my conscious as well...
When my conscious was returned to me, the darkness did also. But this time, there was also a steady beeping noise accompanying it.
I opened my eyes and the notion I had before was proven wrong. I wasn’t blind. In fact, I could see my surroundings perfectly. The room looked like those of a hospital.
I looked to my left side and saw a lamp standing on a small wooden bedside table that fitted just in between the wall and my bed. To my right was another wooden table just like the one on the left, except this one had a bag on it; my bag.
Once I’ve managed to pull myself into a sitting position, I earned the chance to have a good look at my clothes. My dirty gray clothes were gone, replaced by a soft white nightshirt and a pair of matching pants. It seemed unfitting that such filthy skin like mine should wear something like this.
I lifted my bag off of the table and onto my lap and reached in and took out the first fabric I touched. Hastily, I practically tore off my new nightgown and threw on my plain clothing. After that, I looked out through the curtains of the window that was just over my bed.
It was just beginning to get dark in the sky, but I could still see by looking down that I was at a second floor level. The distance to the ground wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short either.
I gulped as I strapped my bag back on my shoulder and lifted the window open. A small breeze came in and blew my hair back. I had to try, I knew I had to.
I stood on the bed and pulled the window up even higher, and then I stepped onto the window sill, crouching down. I sighed and wondered if it was better to just walk out of the door and let everyone see me. But my decision was made, and with a stumble, I jumped off.
The landing wasn’t as rough as I had expected, but my feet still felt a small sting. Regardless, I surveyed around the area to see if anyone saw me. Luckily, my room had faced a backstreet, so no one was there.
I tried to look as ordinary as I could as I passed a few people on the street, and since no one bothered me, I decided to walk into a store and get something to eat.
The store, coincidentally, was a pastry with lots of shelves and very few customers. The shopkeeper, who was possibly working in the back of the store, probably didn’t even hear me coming in the store. With my small figure, it was too easy snatching a piece of bread off of the nearest shelf and come out unnoticed.
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