Sunagakure
The air was still cool with the last breath of night. The sun had only just begun to rise, with a painting the rooftops of Sunagakure in muted gold. Shadows still clung to the corners of the streets, retreating inch by inch before the morning light.
The air smelled of dust and clay, clean in its emptiness, touched faintly by the smoke of early fires being coaxed to life within the homes nearby.
Isan walked slowly through the half-empty courtyard, his steps careful on the hard ground covered in sand. The bandages around his ribs itched and tugged with each breath he took. His hand gently brushed the wrappings in his chest.
'God, I needed this. This fresh air… and this sweet and peaceful silence.', Isan thought while smelling the morning fresh air that still felt cold and sweet from the night.
The village was slowly stirring up quietly. A merchant yawned, while passing in the distance, surely on his way to his stall. Two shinobi jogged past on patrol, their sandals slapping against stone.
Life continued, flowing forward normally as though the blood spilled on the dunes and painful memories were but a terrifying nightmare.
Just then Isan noticed something through the corner of his eye, something distinguishable, at the edge of the courtyard, seemingly hidden in the shadows of a wall nearby.
There, at the edge of the courtyard, near a low wall where the shadow still clung, a boy crouched close to the ground.
Red hair caught what little light had broken through, its color bright even against the dullness of stone. His face was pale, worn down by exhaustion, his eyes, with dark circles, darkened even further with the bruised crescents of sleepless nights.
He traced the ground with his finger, the sand shifting in patient curls to follow him.
Isan froze where he stood and felt his chest tighten in exasperation. That face and colour of hair were very unique, especially in this village.
His first reaction was to turn around and quietly walk away from there, to leave without making any sound or, at least, avoid being noticed.
Yet, he stood still while watching Gaara's small figure that looked, even in the distance, to be so small and sad. There wasn't that heavy and crushing feeling he gave and was so famous in the series for, no killing intent or madness in sight.
'Wait... I have been thinking this the wrong way the whole time... could it be that...', as his mind wandered through his memories recollecting any piece of information pertinent to the situation, he couldn't help but let out a small mocking smile that was more targetted towards himself than any other person.
His first assumption had been that Gaara was already the sand demon he was so famous for, but what if the event that marked him so much still hadn't happen?
Breathing to calm himself and his nerves while gathering strength to move his legs, he forced himself forward. The crunch of grit under his sandals sounded loud in the silence.
Gaara's head lifted suddenly, causing their eyes to lock across the courtyard. Feeling those green and unblinking on eyes brought a shudder on his body.
Isan felt his throat tighten for a moment, wondering if he was wrong, but he soon noticed something that help him reach a conclusion faster than anything else.
'Is that... tears? No... marks of tears?', Isan rapidly thought while gazing at Gaara's face, swallowing hard he gathered his courage.
"Hello... are you okay? Isn't it too early to be out here?", his voice remarkably didn't break from the tension he was feeling while being under Gaara's gaze.
Just knowing that if the kid before him, that had huge bags under his eyes from a big lack of sleep and rest, fell asleep. It would just be one of top three worst days of his life.
The sand curled protectively around Gaara again, and the boy lowered his gaze, returning to the shifting patterns.
"Couldn't sleep.", the words came flat, but not hostile. His finger did not stop moving, the sand curling around his touch as though bound to it.
Isan gave a small and faint nod.
"Me too."
The boy's finger paused for the briefest moment before tracing again.
"The sand helps. It doesn't leave me."
Gaara looked up once more. His gaze held steady, clear yet unreadable. There was no malice and no flicker of threat. Only the quiet vacancy of a child who looked tired and exhausted.
Seeing such sight, the thoughts of fear engulfing him vanished in an instant. Gaara wasn't always a killing machine, a living weapon. He was just a child, someone isolated due to fear of the living being inside him.
He, himself, was no different from the rest of the village, probably the only one that didn't feel like that in the whole village was the Kazekage, Rasa. He highly doubted anyone else had any hope in facing or defeating the one-tailed beast, the sand Bijuu, Shukaku.
Unknowingly to him, a tear began to shed in the corner of Isan' eye as he looked at the lonely figure of Gaara.
"So... what are you drawing?", struggling to crouch down and lower himself, he end up placing his knee on the hard ground while smiling sweetly at Gaara.
Gaara blinked, as though unused to the question.
"Shapes.", he murmured, and for a moment his hand stilled.
Isan leaned closer, ignoring the tug of his ribs, and pressed his own finger lightly into the sand.
"What about this? Doesn't it look like the Kazekage?", he muttered with amusement in his voice.
Gaara's lips twitched at the mention of the word 'Kazekage', his little body shuddering a little.
"Although it looks more like a potato... oh well."
This rapid and little comment made Gaara's body stop shuddering as he somewhat stunned lifted his head and looked beside him to find Isan drawing terribly a large crooked circle with three smaller circles and a short line inside.
Gaara started feeling something other than fear and sadness as a small laugh escaped his lips while seeing Isan butchering his drawing in the sand even further.
Around them the sand stirred, slowly at first then more visibly, the grains swam in small ripples, circling around them in a gentle way.
Isan's breath stalled and he felt his body going rigid at the sight around him.
He wasn't the only one, Gaara's eyes also contracted with panic, his shoulders tightened, as though readying for what was about to happen, something that he had seen countless times by now.
He closed his eyes and waited to hear screams and shuffling of the sand as he expected Isan to run away in fear, it was what everyone else did after all.
What followed shattered Gaara's expectations as there was no sound, slowly opening his eyes he found Isan staring with a bright smile to the way the sand moved in the air.
"It is beautiful.", he said firmly, while patting Gaara on his head gently.
Gaara froze. His eyes widened, not in menace but in disbelief, as though the sound of those words had never once been spoken to him. The sand quivered, then settled slowly, its ripples easing into calm as his hand fell still.
Isan held his gaze, steady despite the knot of unease in his stomach.
The courtyard remained quiet, filled only by the soft rasp of the morning breeze.