"Lately, Gaara has really taken a liking to sitting on the roof," Kankuro whispered to his sister, Temari, as he watched their younger brother perched atop the building in the middle of the night.
"Yeah, I wonder what's going through his head," Temari replied. As the eldest sibling, and due to her bold personality, she was far more courageous than Kankuro. "Come on, let's go up there and show him some concern."
"Huh?" Kankuro started to protest, but Temari had already grabbed him and forced him up onto the roof.
Even a tough girl like Temari couldn't help but act a bit unnaturally when facing Gaara. "Hey, Gaara, what are you looking at out here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice as casual as possible.
Furthermore, this was the absolute limit of her composure. She and Kankuro had witnessed more than once how the sand on Gaara's body could tear a villager to pieces. Under the shadow of such memories, having the courage to speak to him at all was an achievement.
Facing his sister's inquiry, Gaara spoke tonelessly. "I'm looking at the moon, the night sky, and the sheepfold."
Temari froze. She could understand the moon and the stars, but she had no idea what he meant by a sheepfold. She looked at Kankuro, who only shook his head in confusion. There certainly wasn't a sheepfold on the roof.
To prevent the conversation from dying, Temari forced a comment. "Well, the moonlight is indeed very beautiful tonight."
Gaara glanced at her. Because of everything he had endured since birth, he was extremely sensitive. Because of this sensitivity, he could clearly feel the cautious, walking-on-eggshells emotion his sister felt toward him.
"Actually, you want to know what the sheepfold is more than anything, don't you?" Gaara said directly.
Having her thoughts exposed, Temari could only nod. "Then, what exactly is the sheepfold you're referring to, Gaara?"
Gaara smiled faintly. He stood up and pointed at the entire village shrouded in the darkness of night. Temari assumed he was pointing out a specific location, so she strained her eyes to see. "It's too dark," she eventually said. "I can't see where the sheepfold is at all."
"There is no sheepfold."
"Huh?" Temari began to think her brother was acting a bit strange tonight.
Gaara closed his eyes and said calmly, "The entire village is a sheepfold."
Temari and Kankuro looked at each other once again. Clearly, they could not comprehend the meaning behind his words. Gaara didn't bother explaining further. He wasn't surprised by their reaction.
If I hadn't experienced it myself, how could I understand the shopkeeper's words?
Since Gaara remained silent, the scene fell into a quiet lull. Temari and Kankuro didn't stay much longer before saying their goodbyes.
"We're going to sleep now. Don't stay up too late, Gaara," Temari advised before leaving.
"Mm."
Gaara could actually feel that a small flicker of familial affection existed within his sister and brother. However, due to fear and their father's warnings, they never dared to get too close to him. Regardless, they were merely two sheep among a massive flock. Like the other villagers, they lacked the courage to face a predator.
Shortly after Temari and Kankuro left, a figure quietly appeared on the roof. Immediately afterward, several kunai whistled through the air! The sharp blades sliced through the wind, creating a piercing screech.
Gaara turned his head at the sound, but the sand on his body had already automatically deployed a defense. The incoming kunai were easily blocked by the sand surging around him.
Gaara had grown numb to such attacks. This time, however, he felt a strange surge of anger.
Why do these lambs always think they can kill a predator?
The attacker did not give up just because the kunai were blocked. Instead, they accelerated and charged toward Gaara. Gaara couldn't understand it. He didn't understand why these people came one after another to kill him when the only fate awaiting them was death.
He opened his palm. A massive amount of sand erupted violently like a tidal wave, rushing toward the assailant. In an instant, the attacker was completely surrounded with nowhere to hide!
A cold murderous intent flashed in Gaara's eyes. As he clenched his fist tightly, the sand instantly constricted around the attacker. The immense pressure made the sand as sharp as blades, leaving countless wounds across the person's body. Blood began to spread through the grains of sand.
But just as Gaara prepared to finish his opponent, his pupils began to tremble violently. He had seen something. It was the attacker's hand—there was a clear bandage there, and the wound looked hauntingly familiar.
Gaara looked at the person in disbelief. The moment their eyes met, Gaara's heart felt as though it had been struck by a heavy hammer.
"You... you are..."
He walked slowly toward the incapacitated assassin. Trembling, he tore away the mask covering the man's face. An exquisite face that was eighty or ninety percent similar to his mother's appeared before him. Pale blond hair spilled out as the mask was removed.
Gaara shook. His pupils shook, and his entire body convulsed. "Wh... Why..."
Tears fell uncontrollably from the corners of his eyes, soaking into the sand. This was the person he believed loved him the most. Why would he do such a thing?
"Uncle, why? Why would you do this?" Gaara looked at the man, desperately trying to provide an explanation. "Is it Father? Did Father order you to kill me?"
He reached out for this last saving grace. If it were that man's orders, Gaara felt he could almost accept it. However, Yashamaru personally crushed that final spark of hope.
"Gaara, it was all a lie. Everything was a lie..." Blood flowed continuously from Yashamaru's mouth. Using his last bit of strength, he said, "My kindness to you was all an act. In truth, I have always hated you. If not for you, my sister wouldn't have died..."
Yashamaru stared at Gaara, his eyes filled with hatred and a longing for his sister. "Gaara, I will never... forgive you!"
Those were Yashamaru's final words. The terrible injuries from the sand blades made it impossible for him to survive. His arm fell heavily to the ground, hitting Gaara's heart like a mallet. His last shred of hope was gone.
It turned out everyone loathed him. All the tenderness had been nothing more than a disguise. Gaara gently wiped the tears from his eyes. A stream of sand rose up and carved a bright red character for "Love" onto his forehead.
Then, one crack after another began to surface across his body.