Faces, names, voices, dreams, memories, emotions—they all simultaneously explode inside me, even belonging to people I don't recognize. Or, maybe I do. Maybe they're like Sen was to me. Somehow, I just knew his name, obviously meaning he'd been a part of my memory. Maybe these people are, too.

There's... a reason I'm allowing all of these things to overtake me. I'm finding it difficult to keep up with the pain in my body. I don't think I've been injured, but then again, my adrenaline is too high for me to feel much else besides what I am from my old injuries.

Sasuke remains locked in the heat of battle with Gaara, but... just barely. Looking up at them now from my unfortunate position in the bush I'd gotten trapped in, a strange pattern has appeared on Sasuke's skin after severing Gaara's demon arm with another Chidori. I cry out his name, recalling what Sakura had told me not too long ago about what really happened to them while in the Forest of Death during the second act of the Chūnin Exams. What I'm seeing is not a good thing, and I know I need to help, but I'm hurting so badly that the most I seem to be able to do for myself is roll myself out of the bush when Naruto and Sakura finally appear, a strange little dog following close behind them, and Naruto landing a solid kick on Gaara that forces him away.

"Thank goodness," I nearly sob. I finally tip out of the bush, landing harshly on my back.

There's nothing much I can do with how I am now, I think. I dare to glance down at my stomach, feeling a sudden wet heat beneath the fabric of my sweater. I pull it up from the bottom, quick to frown at what I see. I... didn't expect much else. I think it had been when I was holding onto Sasuke while upside down, and while thankfully, it isn't one of my more serious surgical areas, my smallest one has been torn open by the pressure.

Overhead, there's a scream. Sasuke?! I can't see him from where I lay, but over the curve of one of the branches, a leg kicks out, as if he's writhing in pain. Just what were those marks?! What did Orochimaru do to him!? I don't have much time to think on it when in the corner of my eye, Gaara has reappeared to target him, completely passing by Naruto.

Have to... get up!! But it's like my body is made of lead, and the earth beneath me is like a giant magnet! I can't move! I'm forced to watch in horror as Gaara reaches Sasuke and Sakura, who pulls out a kunai and stands between the two. Gaara hesitates. He blinks, the malicious intent on his face quick to reappear in the same moment he has her pinned against one of the trees with his demon arm.

"Sakura!!" mine and Naruto's voices chorus. He grabs Sasuke with Gaara unfortunately preoccupied.

Another memory makes an attempt on me, but somehow, miraculously, I'm able to force it away. The pain of it instantly disappears, and I can't even begin to come up with how I managed any of it. But I'm grateful nonetheless, as it means that the only pain I have to ignore now when I scale the tree before me is the one coming from my stomach wound.

"Sakura," I whisper, having made it to the height where she'd been pinned by Gaara. I'm careful not to touch him—even if it isn't the sole cause, it's still a cause for me to see a person's memory. "Sakura, wake up!" But I can feel how weak her chakra is. She's unconscious, the impact of her hitting the tree being enough to do so.

Sasuke's and Gaara's simultaneous cries of pain and anguish make my ears ring. I don't know what to do. I can't help Sasuke. I can't help Sakura. I couldn't help Gaara. Every choice I choose to make from here on out will have a repercussion of some kind that I can barely handle risking. Never mind me; if something happens to my friends because of me, I'll never be able to forgive myself.

Something... something!! There's gotta be something I can do!!

"Who are these three?" I hear Gaara demand from Naruto from the next trees over. "Who are they to you?!"

"Who are they to me?" Naruto repeats, his temper obviously rising. "They're my friends, is who they are! If you so much as lay another finger on the three of them, I will pulverize you!"

There's no way I could have possibly moved in time to avoid it, the incidental effect Naruto's threat had on Gaara—a second hand splits away from the one holding onto Sakura and rams me into the bark next to her.

"Kari!" Naruto shouts. I grit my teeth in a desperate attempt to hold back the new pain. I-I'm sure the demon in Gaara would be rather satisfied to see my suffering; I won't risk giving it the satisfaction.

"What's the matter?" I hear Gaara say past the strange whooshing in my ears. I shut my eyes—a mistake on my part; I see the dead body of that Yashamaru laying before them; another memory. "Weren't you going to pulverize me?! Well, come on, then."

"You're on!" Naruto shouts. Gaara starts laughing, and just as quickly, he stops.

I gasp, finally registering the chakra surrounding my body. Hot, thick, and unbreathable... it is a new kind of pain I wouldn't wish upon the worst person I might ever meet. Never mind the pain from my surgical wound—I think I might die if I can't escape this, and a part of me wishes I, too, were unconscious.

"And that's exactly why you can't win," Gaara tells him. "As long as you fight for the sake of others, you'll never advance beyond this level. Only one can remain undefeated, and only he will feel what it's like to truly exist! Forget your friends, and fight for yourself."

"You're insane," Naruto says. "Forget my friends?"

"Let trivial feelings like friendship and loyalty cloud your focus," Gaara spits, "and you'll die."

"Yeah, yeah—keep talkin' like you can, 'cuz I'm about to shut you up, once and for all!" He pulls out a kunai and leaps at Gaara.

"You don't understand what real strength is!" Gaara insists, and he whips his tail at Naruto, flicking him into a thick bunch of branches. That wasn't Gaara. Him and his demon are into completely different fights right now, but Gaara's having the worst of it.

I wheeze, his grip around Sakura and I tightening—naturally, I'm hit with the black screen of witnessing yet another memory, as if my current predicament isn't inconvenient enough. No matter how physically painful it is to experience them, it doesn't even nearly compared to the pain Gaara had to feel during those times of his life. Even now, he feels the burden of them, his hatred weighing him down the longer he fights. His hatred is so blinding that it must make it easy for this Shukaku to take control of his body. Because this can't be all Gaara's doing. I can easily blame him for our current problems, but in my heart, it... it just wouldn't be fair.

Thinking back to that one memory, that Kishibi girl he'd named... I'm sure he expected her to want to hurt him. He's probably been used to that, considering what he told us of the numerous attempts on his life his father orchestrated. But her words were sincere—in her eyes, I saw sincerity. She truly did want to befriend Gaara. But there's something I still can't understand, and I feel like this new memory coming in... well, I-I shouldn't fight it.

So, I watch it.

Unlike the times before, I'm not watching the memory from his eyes. I watch it from behind his back. When I stick my hands out to try and see myself, I am see-through, further proof that I can't do a thing to help him.

Gaara is crouched beside Yashamaru's body, his sobs through his fingers unrelenting, choked and wet and betraying. The man's breathing isn't right. I fear it has everything to do with the blood he's just coughed out, and with the blood that slowly leaks from the corners of his eyes. I look to the rest of the man's body and wince. It's broken, in... many, many places.

"... why?" Gaara whimpers, drawing his wet hands back. His tears continue to fall over his cheeks and into his lap. "Why... Yashamaru?" My heart squeezes excruciatingly tight. "Why did you do it? I-I don't... understand! Tell me why!"

I kneel beside Gaara, my eyes watering. I want nothing more than to hold him. Comfort him, like he deserves to be comforted. Even though... it's almost too obvious... that he'd been the one to do this to Yashamaru... I know why he did.

"I-I thought I was someone precious to you!" Gaara cries through clenched teeth.

"It was... an order," Yashamaru tells him. "You see... I was ordered... to kill you, Gaara. By Lord Kazekage. Your father."

"By my... f-father?"

The tears that slip onto the sand at his knees disappear as quickly as they fell. Gaara covers his mouth again, this time, looking as though he might be sick. Instinctively, I go to reach out and wrap my arm on him, the scene being so real that I nearly forget about the truth of it—I'm not really here, and it is only a memory. It's already happened, and I can't do a thing to help him. I can't do anything to change Gaara's history.

"W-Why me?" Gaara whispers, eyes staring hard at the ground. "Why would... my father..."

"You were born with the Shukaku," Yashamaru tells him, "a living sand spirit, inside of you. All these years, you have been watched, and studied, as a part of a great experiment. It became clear that you could never control it... the Shukaku that possesses the power of the sand, itself.

"The day is coming that your existence will be... too dangerous for the village," Yashamaru goes on. "It had to be done before then."

I look down to Gaara again, to find him wearing a weak, suddenly hopeful smile. My heart splits in half. He's too young to understand that the adults of this violent world aren't without their own anger and prejudice. I know exactly what this smile of his is to mean.

"You... you had to obey my father," Gaara tries reasoning to himself. "You... didn't have any choice?"

If his neck hadn't been broken from Gaara's attack, I'm sure Yashamaru would have shaken his head.

"You're wrong," he says. "I had a choice."

I avert my eyes, so I don't have to see the look on Gaara's face. I can't bear it.

"Lord Kazekage made his wishes known to me, but... I could have refused... if I had chosen to. I suppose it's because, deep in my heart... I hate you, Gaara. I've always hated you. My sister died bringing you into this world. I can't... forgive you for that. I told myself that you were all that was left of her, and since I loved her, I should love you. I tried. But I never could. It wasn't her choice to have you, to be made a human sacrifice. And so, she died, cursing this village. The day she died... I felt a wound in my heart that I knew would never heal.

"Your name... is the one your mother gave you. Your name is Gaara—a demon who loves only itself, as you... must love no one else. Care for no one's existence but your own. Fight only for yourself. In that way, you will be sure to survive. This is the dying gift your mother gave you, but not out of maternal affection. It was not from love that she gave you your name. It was from her undying rage to this village. It was part of her curse, that you should survive and grow... Her hate lives on in you.

"You were never loved, Gaara. Never."

Yashamaru unzips his vest and pulls back the one side. I gasp in horror at the dozens of paper bombs strapped to his chest.

"But now," he wheezes, more blood forcing itself from the corners of his mouth, "this is the end."

He's lying! my thoughts scream at me, while the world seems to move in slow motion. A mother's love is the most powerful thing in this world! There's no way she cursed him!!

And I know that this is useless to do! I know he won't feel anything! But still! I reach for Gaara, just as the paper bombs explode before him, and latch onto him.

The roof rattles and trembles beneath me—I can't feel the explosion, myself, but the devastation it causes to everything around me is disturbing enough. I find relief in the fact that out of this horror, Gaara had been protected. Around us is a shattering sphere of hardened sand. He saved himself—no... no, that's not true. Gaara's mother protected him. I can feel a different chakra. It's... so warm. So like a mother. Something we've both never known.

"What right do they have," I find myself murmuring through clenched teeth, my chin pressed into the crown of his head, "to decide whether someone's a danger to their home?"

The broken sphere finally collapses around him, and through his heavy sobbing, he drags his fingers through it. Suddenly, it rises into the air, frozen in place.

"I... am all that matters," he says.

I exit the memory.

I'm cold now, a stark contrast to the heat I'd felt by being pinned to this tree while surrounded by Gaara's demon's chakra. Besides that, all else I'm able to feel is sadness. The pain from being pinned to this tree doesn't seem to compare.

Whatever Jutsu ended up being cast on me as a child; whatever made it so I can't remember my own memories, I suppose... being able to experience the ones from those around me will have to do. It's a grand lesson of empathy—this is what I've decided on.

Through the white spots in my vision, I try desperately to seek out Naruto, squinting through the harsh streams of sunlight poking through the trees above me, only to find him in the middle of forming a set of unfamiliar hand signs. Then, he bites his thumb, hard enough that it bleeds—confused, and with nothing else to do, I watch him.

"Summoning Jutsu!" he shouts. With how suffocated my breathing is, the gasp of surprise I'd choked out is cut off. I've only heard of Summoning Jutsu before, that it can call huge creatures to come your aid! Did that Pervy Sage of his teach him this? It's a higher-level Jutsu, but Naruto really learned how to use it? That Pervy Sage must be a heck of a... huh?

"What is it?" A small orange and purple frog blinks at Naruto. "Whaddya want, kid?" And Naruto blinks back. "Well, whatever it is, I hope you brought along some treats, 'cos if you think I'm doing anything for nothing, you're wrong!"

"Oh, give me a break!" Naruto screams at it. "I'm really starting to hate you stinking frogs!"

"Ohh, anti-amphibian, are ya?" The frog blows a raspberry in his face. "Take that, ya big bigot!"

"Listen—I don't have time to play games, you slimy little squirt!"

"Worried about the others?" Gaara says, sneering. "What a big mistake. When I fight..." he raises his head, just enough that from where I am, I can see his face again, and my lips part "... I fight for me and me alone!"

His red hair. That's all that exists of Gaara while he's in this form. It pokes up from the top of the demon body's head—the rest of him is covered in sand, an even thicker sand armor than we've seen.

There's a sharp jerk that shakes the tree behind me—Gaara has separated his demon arm from his body, leaving Sakura and I stuck in place, and has regrown another one out of his sand. When I struggle against it, thinking I'd be able to get free, it only tightens.

If I use a Fire Ninjutsu...! I wheeze again, his sand pressing up against my windpipe now. It'll just burn the tree and us with it! Frantic and panicked, I feel around me where I'm unable to see underneath the sand for the tree. I sharpen my hand and strike once at the bark, with no luck. Instead, I'm plagued by an even sharper pain that ripples up from my knuckles and into my shoulder blade.

"... ouch..."

I wait for the pain to pass, and when it does, I back my behind against the tree and poise my feet up against the demon sand. With my hands bracing myself from underneath it, I shove them through the same hole my neck is stuck through and force it to widen. It gives me enough time that I'm able to free my head from it and duck down—my inhale is deep, maybe even a little exaggerated, but I knew that if the sand contracted just one more time, I would've been choked to death.

So, instead, I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place—quite literally, considering how tough the sand is. I sigh. In the words of that dozy Shikamaru, "What a drag."

Updated October 18th, 2022 | 2,966 words