a/n: For Gaara.

d: I don't own Naruto, and sadly, I don't own Gaara either.

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Can you feel it?

Fear is the key to your soul

That makes you dangerous

So dangerous to yourself…

-The Who, Dangerous

-

Your chest heaves as you close the door behind you.

Your eyes are wide; shocked, grieving, and tired.

You slump onto the matted floor, dried tears streaked across your innocent, 6-year-old face.

"Yashamaru-jii…" the treacherous name whispers itself on your lips. You can still see him, lying before you, bloody and dying…

And to think that you did that to him.

"No!" You yell into the deafening silence. The entire village is paralyzed by fear, and the source of that fear is you…

"No! No! No!" Your small hands clamp over your ears to block out their jeers, their painful words, their agonized screams as your sand slowly takes the life from them, kills them, mercilessly…

You control them; and for that they are afraid of you.

But why? You're just a little boy, you think to yourself. You do not deserve this torment, you're too young to go through this, much less on your own… what have you done to displease them so much anyway?

You grab your teddy bear and creep onto the bed, trying to stop yourself from crying pitifully again. You close your eyes tightly, so tight they hurt… they hurt, they hurt, they hurt… Just so you won't scare yourself when you look in the mirror… when you see your reflection, when you see yourself, and you see something revolting…

You're ugly, hideous, a despicable monster…

And yet, you still have the word "Love" scarred in red on your forehead.

What is love anyway?

You remember your uncle's words, not too long ago…

"Your mother loved you…"

But she didn't. She detested you. Hated you. Loathed every bit of you and your destructive power. She only cared for you as a tool of revenge, to take vengeance upon this blasted country. She used you…

"Do you feel it inside you?"

You used to think you did. You once loved the Sand Country; even though the other children ignored you and refused to play their games with you; even though sometimes you'd catch the townsfolk throw horror-struck glares at you when you walk in their streets…

You once loved your father; but that was before you found out how many times he sent men to murder you in the dark, while you slept.

You once loved your siblings; Temari-niisan and Kankuro… but you find out they were merely puppets, used by your father, flesh and blood woven together by hatred and indifference… you convince yourself you are not related to them.

You once loved your mother; she had kind, kind eyes and the gentlest features, like Uncle Yashamaru, and sometimes you'd wonder what it would have been like if she lived to be able to take care of you… but that was facing the fact that she didn't love you. Never. Not at all.

And finally, you once loved your Uncle Yashamaru, the only person ever to even give your love back to you, who made you feel special, who showed you such compassion and looked after you and raised you, and he was the father you never had… and he looked so much like your dear, darling, dead mother…

But you killed him.

Do you recall why?

He said he cared for you. He said he loved you. But he didn't. He despised you, after all. You found out tonight that he cursed you, every fiber of your being, for the cause of his beautiful, loving sister's death, that he only felt obligated to nurse you because you were his sister's son, that you reminded him of her…

But he lied. He lied, to you.

Can you believe it?

You had to kill him.

Liars should go to hell!

But you still remember his eyes; and they tell you he was dead beyond that mortal shell. It was not the Uncle Yashamaru you once knew; Uncle Yashamaru had died long before you made him so…

"Love is everything, Master Gaara…"

No it isn't. Love didn't bring joy and happiness; it only caused so much hurt and so much suffering. Love didn't bring peace; it brought war, for people loved war. Love wouldn't bring your mother and Uncle Yashamaru back. Love couldn't take out the demon inside of you and end all of this. Love couldn't wound you and let you bleed, no matter how much you wanted to…

Love was nothing.

Uncle Yashamaru was wrong.

You eyes open and you sit up in bed, panting and sweaty as the realization dawns upon you.

Love was the very bane of your existence; love caused all this misery. Therefore…

"I must hate love,"You say, loudly, clearly.

"Master Gaara…

"Love is you."

You gaze at the kind eyes in awe. "Really, Yashamaru-jii?" You ask.

He smiles at you, and you feel like bursting with delight. "Really."

"Thank you, Shamaru-jii." You give him your best grin. "I love you." You add shyly.

"I love you too, Master Gaara…"

"No you don't!" You shriek, your heart filling with such strong emotion you thought it might break.

"You're lying! Shut up!"

"I HATE YOU!"

And to think your fragile heart was already broken…

You hate them. You hate them all. You're feeling hate.

The whole world seems to stop and quiet down and tremble in fear in your power. Sand. Wondeful, powerful sand. Yes, your only allies, your only friends are your hatred, their fear, and your sand.

You stare in disgust at the teddy bear you are clutching in your shaking arms. It spoke nothing of power, it looked so limp and weak; nor did it speak of hatred, as its glass eyes looked back at you with a twinkle lit in its shiny black orbs. But as much as it spoke of everything you are; it was a paradox, for it also told you about who you are but don't want to be.

It was worn, dirty, and… ugly. A terrible, angry fire dances in your blue-green eyes. Suna Ai-chan (you named it after your country, and after the thing that you once lived for) had to go.

You didn't even have to do anything but feel. The golden sand did it all for you. Tentatively, it wound around Suna Ai-chan's soft cotton body and tore him apart. The sand pulled and tore and shred, tearing Suna Ai, the symbol of your torture and pain, to mere bits and shards of stuffing and cloth.

Your rage subsides, and finally your eyes turn cold, soulless, and yet remarkably, sad.

You look upon the things that had once been your best friend. Dismissively, you order the sand to get it out of sight.

Suna Ai was nothing. His family, was nothing. His country, was nothing.

Love, was nothing.

You know that now.

So why are you still crying?

-

OWARI

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a/n: REVIEW! Please, do it for Gaara.