"What do you think you're doing?"
Naruto's voice rang from behind Gaara, sharp and unwavering.
Gaara turned, his pale green eyes narrowing as he saw Naruto and Hinata standing in the doorway. Both of them stared at him with cold resolve.
"Of course," Gaara said evenly, "I want to kill him."
Naruto's brows knitted. "What's wrong with you? Winning in the exam wasn't enough, you still want to take someone's life?" He shook his head, baffled at Gaara's obsession with bloodshed.
"You would stop me?" Gaara's tone hardened, his eyes boring into Naruto's.
"Of course," Naruto replied without hesitation. "I won't let you lay a hand on him."
"Why?" Gaara's voice cracked as his hand clutched his forehead. "Why do you protect him like that?"
Memories clawed at him memories that burned. The recollection of betrayal and rejection, of loved ones who had turned on him. Those who claimed to care for him… and then died by his hand.
"He's my precious comrade," Naruto answered simply, with a conviction that left no room for doubt. "Of course I'll protect him."
"Precious… protect…" Gaara repeated, his voice trembling. The words twisted inside his head like barbed wire.
Once, long ago, his uncle Yashamaru had said the same. That too had been a lie, a cruel trap that shattered what little warmth he had clung to.
Everything was false.
Love was false.
Promises of protection were false.
People could only rely on themselves.
A pained groan escaped Gaara's lips. "Uuuh…" He pressed harder against his head, his face contorted in anguish. The memories wouldn't fade. They were etched into his very being, heavy scars carved deep into his soul.
Yet somewhere inside, buried beneath years of hatred, was the faintest yearning. A longing for love. A desperate, childlike hope that someone anyone might embrace him, not with fear or deceit, but with true warmth.
And then it came.
A hand rested gently atop his head.
The touch wasn't harsh or fleeting. It radiated warmth steady, patient, unwavering. It seeped into him, chasing away the chill, melting the shadows inside his heart.
It was not the fleeting heat of blood splattering on his skin, not the temporary rush of violence. This warmth was deeper, cleansing, like sunlight reaching the darkest corners of his soul.
Gaara froze. He lifted his gaze.
The boy standing before him, with hair as bright as flame, seemed in that moment like the sun itself. His golden hair shimmered under the dim hospital light, but in Gaara's eyes, it was blinding, dazzling, impossibly radiant.
Naruto's hand glowed faintly with a soothing green light. Medical chakra pulsed steadily, flowing into Gaara's mind.
This was a skill Naruto had only recently begun to learn: medical ninjutsu. More than just healing the body, it could ease emotional wounds, for chakra carried not only physical energy but also spiritual essence.
"Feeling a little better now?" Naruto asked softly, his voice low and calm.
Gaara let out a nasal hum, a sound of reluctant affirmation.
Naruto slowly withdrew his hand. The green glow faded, and with it, the comforting warmth. For a moment, Gaara almost reached out, unwilling to let it go. The lingering emptiness gnawed at him.
"You're exhausted," Naruto said, his eyes steady. "That's why your emotions are unstable. If you're willing, I can help strengthen your seal right now. That way, the thing inside you won't disturb your sleep anymore."
Gaara went silent. The thought tempted him. How long had it been since he had slept peacefully? Since his body had rested without fear of Shukaku clawing for control?
But hesitation weighed on him. Soon, he would need the tailed beast's power for missions power that only existed if the seal remained loose. If Naruto strengthened it, would he still be able to call on Shukaku when the time came?
And then there was the mission itself the plan looming over him. If it went forward, could he still accept Naruto's help?
Conflicted, Gaara pressed his lips together. For once, he didn't want to obey orders. He wanted to refuse. But the habits of a lifetime the rules drilled into him kept him from abandoning the mission outright.
At last, he whispered, "No need."
With a flick of his fingers, the sand withdrew. The crushing tension in the room lifted.
Without another word, Gaara turned and walked out of the hospital room. His steps were slow but steady, the storm inside him quelled, if only slightly, by Naruto's healing touch.
As he reached the doorway, he glanced back one last time. His gaze locked onto Naruto's, deep and searching, as if he wanted to burn this image into his memory forever.
Naruto had touched him, and yet the sand had not risen to defend him.
Why?
The sand always moved on its own to protect him, rejecting all contact. Why had it stayed still this time?
Perhaps next time they met, they would be enemies. The thought lingered bitterly in his chest.
"Is he alright?" Hinata asked softly, her pale eyes following Gaara's retreating back.
Naruto exhaled. "He's been deprived of rest for too long. That strain has eroded his control over his emotions, even damaging his mind." His voice carried the steady confidence of someone who had studied medical knowledge enough to see through the problem.
"Why can't he rest?" Hinata frowned.
"His seal is poor," Naruto explained. "If he falls asleep, the beast inside tries to seize his body. So he stays awake, forcing himself to keep conscious." He shook his head with quiet frustration. "I just don't understand why he won't accept my help."
When Gaara returned to the lodging of the Sand shinobi, Temari and Kankuro nearly jumped in fright. They had been ordered by Baki to watch him carefully, not to let him out of sight.
But at some point, Gaara had slipped away, vanishing without a sound.
Fear clawed at them. If Gaara had transformed into the tailed beast here in Konoha, the consequences would have been catastrophic.
Seeing him walk in unharmed, the two finally let out the breath they'd been holding.
"Gaara, where did you go?" Temari asked, her voice edged with concern.
Gaara's eyes were cold, his words sharper still. "It has nothing to do with you."
He strode past them, ignoring their stares, and shut himself in his room.
"Tch. Temari, you shouldn't ask him things like that," Kankuro muttered, glaring at the closed door.
Temari flushed with embarrassment but still murmured, "He's our little brother, Kankuro."
"If he ever thought of me as his brother," Kankuro spat, "then maybe I'd care."
Temari sighed, long and heavy, her shoulders slumping.
—
A month passed in the blink of an eye.
Back at Mount Myoboku, Jiraiya arrived once again at the great Toad Oil Falls. The air shimmered with the scent of oil and sage energy. Yet when he looked around, he didn't see Naruto anywhere.
Puzzled, he asked, "Elder Fukasaku, where's Naruto?"
The old sage chuckled, his wrinkled face folding with amusement. He lifted a finger and pointed upward.
Jiraiya followed the gesture. At first, he saw only mist and sky. "There's nothing up there…" he mumbled, scratching his head.
"No," Fukasaku said, his tone serious. "Look more carefully."
This time, Jiraiya squinted, focusing through the veil of drifting clouds. And then he saw it.
High atop the sharpest, tallest spire of rock, balanced at the very peak where the winds howled and the world fell away into endless abyss, sat a boy bathed in light.
Naruto.
He wasn't on the training platform at the waterfall's base like tradition demanded. He had climbed higher, impossibly high, to the razor's edge of the mountain itself.
There he sat, cross-legged, perfectly still. The storm winds whipped his black-and-white clothes, but he did not sway. He was stone and sky, rooted as though part of the mountain itself. Birds fluttered down, landing gently upon him as if sensing his calm, as if he were a tree or shrine offering them sanctuary.
A faint golden aura surrounded his body, delicate as gossamer yet vibrant with life. It pulsed in rhythm with his breath, flowing outward like sunlight through clouds. This was sage chakra, the first true sign of Mount Myoboku's deepest secret taking shape within him.
Jiraiya's mouth opened in awe, a shout ready on his lips
Smack!
A fist landed squarely on his head, leaving a throbbing lump. Elder Fukasaku glared at him. "Quiet! This is the most critical moment. One distraction, and all his progress could vanish."
Jiraiya winced, rubbing his head.
Above them, Naruto's golden aura expanded in a steady wave, drawing in the natural energy around him. The very air seemed to resonate with his presence, as if the mountain itself acknowledged him.
Jiraiya whispered, almost to himself, "But the Chunin Exams… they're starting soon."
"Bah," Fukasaku snapped. "What's a mere exam compared to the power of sagehood? This chance is priceless!"
Jiraiya paused. Then, with a slow nod, he realized the old sage was right. Exams came every year. But the chance to master sage arts? That was rarer than gold.
And high above, bathed in light, Naruto sat unmoving like a sun rising against the storm.
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