Chapter Text
Surprisingly, Gaara had never considered suicide before. It would be a lie to say he had never practiced self harm however, in a weird, twisted way. By starving himself and depriving himself of sleep. He couldn't actually cut into his skin, the sand reacted before the blade could touch his flesh. He naturally turned to other means, inflicting pain in a way that wouldn't trigger the sand. There was no protection against starvation. And even if the insomnia was originally caused by Shukaku's threats, it had slowly become a way to further hurt himself. The sleep deprivation drove him slightly more insane each day.
So, yes, over the years, Gaara had somewhat unconsciously found ways to hurt himself, but he had never considered actually killing himself. After the whole ordeal with Yashamaru, he had decided to live up to his name. Gaara, the self-serving demon. He had decided to make it everyone's problem, to prove he was stronger than anyone. Why on earth would he need to kill himself?
But things were different now. He felt like he just woke up from a blurry slumber, facing a different kind of nightmare. Everytime he saw fear in Temari's eyes, or the way Kankurou flinched, or heard the vitriol spat at him by the villagers. When he saw Baki silently judging if he had been the one responsible for a random murder he had to deal with. When the council had wanted to bar him from attending the fourth Kazekage's funeral. Wanted him dead.
How had he been blind to all this for so long? Gaara wasn't sure. He vaguely remembered a time where he desperately craved for his father's acceptance, for his sibling to play with him, for love. A time where he noticed the way the villagers and the council looked at him. But eventually his surroundings just blurred, and he couldn't see much else than power and blood.
Coming back from the failed coup at Konoha had been grueling. He always felt awful after a full possession by Shukaku, and his siblings had to carry him back most of the way. Although his wounds were healing up insanely fast, his perception of his environment was always distorted after a possession. If he stood too long, his vision blurred. If he tried to run, following the pace of his siblings, he would throw up. Gaara was sure he had puked multiple times on the way back. Yet, for a reason he couldn't grasp, Kankurou and Temari took care of him, carrying him all the way back to Suna.
He had been under house arrest from the moment they had stepped back into the Kazekage's mansion. Usually that had never stopped Gaara from eventually breaking free, but this time, he had been oddly obedient. Baki and his siblings did not have the time to wonder why however, the news of Rasa's death took precedence. Gaara was left in the unknown for days, alone, hidden in an underground chamber that looked closer to a prison cell than a bedroom. Guarded heavily by ANBU ninjas all day and night.
That was when Gaara's considered suicide for the first time.
Alone, in the silence of that first warm night back at Suna, Gaara realised his siblings would be happier if he had died at Konoha. Naruto had inspired something in him that a part of him loathed: hope. But how could he hope to change, how could he hope for a different future, with the past he had led?
The sand wouldn't allow him to die.
“Gaara? Gaara, can you hear me? It's Temari.”
For the first time in three days, Gaara heard something other than the muffled sounds the ANBU occasionally made. Shukaku scoffed inside his head, unhappy with how Gaara was seemingly glad to hear his sister's voice.
“Gaara… Please, I know you're inside. They're not allowing me to come in, but I have to talk to you…”
The red head slowly stood up from the bed he was sitting on, walking towards the door where Temari's voice came from. It was new, how desperate he felt to hear her. See her.
“I.. I can hear you.”
His own voice felt foreign to him. His palms came into contact with the door, feeling the chakra imbued in the seals keeping him locked away. The ANBU knew he could break them if he really wanted to, but he hadn't. Gaara fought the urge to break them now.
“If you want to get out just break those damn seals already!”
“Shut up.”
Gaara decided it was better to take his hands off the door.
“Good. I've got some news,” Temari's voice sounded unsure. “And I guessed no one came to bring them to you.”
No one had visited him before her.
“Father… Lord Kazekage… he's been found dead. Just before we made it back home.”
Home. Foreign concept to him, but he guessed the mansion was his home. Rasa was dead?
“The one watching us.. at the exams.. Wasn't him. Father had been dead for a while…”
From her tone alone, Gaara couldn't tell if she was upset. She should be, right? Their father was dead, anyone would be upset at this fact.
Gaara couldn't tell if he was upset.
“We're not sure who's responsible yet… the village is in a difficult position without a Kage so Baki's extremely busy… but we will get you out of here soon.”
Temari continued talking, even when her brother never responded back. She hated it when the council put Gaara on house arrest. Originally, she thought it was because it never ended well. Gaara eventually got fed up with being locked up, would break out by force and go on a rampage. But a little voice in her head also hated the idea of her baby brother locked up in isolation like an animal in a cage.
Especially her baby brother who had apologised for the first time in his life. Her baby brother who had been on the verge of passing out for days. They didn't even have time to talk about what happened in Konoha.
“The funeral will be held in two days,” she continued. “The… council doesn't want to let you attend. A bunch of old stupid cowards if you ask me. You're the Kazekage's son! Of course you should attend!”
Gaara wasn't surprised by the council's decision. He knew the funeral of his father would be a state event, with most of the village in attendance. They wouldn't risk him going bonkers with so many people around.
“However… if.. you don't want to come, that's a different matter.” Her voice sounded softer. “He wasn't… great to us. To you.”
“...Kankurou and you will be going?” Gaara finally gave her a reply.
“Yes. We don't really have a choice though… Gaara… do you want to come?”
Temari realised this was the first time she had talked that long with her brother. Usually, Gaara got irritated within a few sentences, so she always made sure to keep her business with him short.
“I…”
The silence started to worry her. Maybe she'd pushed her luck, talking so openly about the situation. It was a miracle Gaara had been so obedient with his house arrest so far. Maybe he would snap, destroy the door and take out his frustration on her.
But she couldn't help it. Her brother had a right to know the truth about the situation.
“I want to be.. with you,” Gaara's voice was small. “With Kankurou.”
Gaara let himself slide against the door, bringing his knees to his chest. He did not know if he cared much about Rasa's funeral, but hearing Temari for the first time in days had cemented his desperate hope for redemption. He wanted to change, he wanted a different future.
Temari heard her little brother shuffle against the door, and she held herself closer against the wood. She almost thought she had imagined his response.
“Gaara…”
“I won't… fight them. If they don't want me at Father's funeral… I'll stay here.”
“You're his son! You've got a right to attend!”
A very small smile spread across Gaara's lips. His sister was always quick to anger, quick to defend what she believed to be just.
“I'll be good, Temari. So… I'd like to see you and Kankurou… please…”
“Gaara…”
Temari was taken aback by how small and desperate the red head's voice was. Gaara never let himself show any weakness. Gaara would never beg.
“Just wait here a bit longer okay? We're going to get you out. You'll be back upstairs in no time.”
What was she saying? Temari hated living so close to Gaara. She knew Kankurou felt the same. They were both much safer if he was locked up, away from them. Right?
So why was she fighting so hard to get him out? Why did tears well up in the corners of her eyes just hearing her little brother's pleas?
“...I will wait.”
"No you will not! Break the goddamn door now!” Shukaku's voice roared in his head.
“I will wait. We're not breaking anything. We're not breaking anything anymore.”
"Bullshit! Are you gonna let yourself get killed just because you've lost against that damn fox kid?! Open that door! You know they'll try to kill you as soon as you show any weakness!”
"Enough!”
A grunt escaped his lips, and Gaara burrowed his head in his knees.
“Temari has asked me to wait. So I will. End of the conversation.”
“You're going to regret that new path you're trying to get on, Gaara! You can only count on me, and you know that!” Shukaku's voice was loud, but he wasn't able to take over.
“I will wait.”
He heard Temari leave behind the door, telling him she'd be back soon. Gaara clung to her words. She had no reason to actually listen to his requests, he realised. He had been terrible to her, to Kankurou. She had no reasons to listen to his pleas. Maybe if he died here, in that cell, by the time she came back, she'd be relieved.
Unsure of what to do or feel, Gaara stayed in this position for hours.
He would wait, as Temari had asked.