Night deepened, and even the moon had begun to sink westward.
Throughout Sunagakure, aside from the patrolling sand shinobi, most people had already entered peaceful dreams.
But even in the barren and dull world of shinobi, there were still quite a few night owls.
Among them, the greatest night owl was none other than the One-Tail Jinchuriki, Gaara.
Every village had different methods for sealing Tailed Beasts, and the ways they prevented Tailed Beast rampages also differed greatly.
Sunagakure had never been skilled at sealing Tailed Beasts, so the One-Tail's seal was incomplete.
Tailed Beast rampages happened often. The previous One-Tail Jinchuriki had even locked himself in prison to prevent one.
For the current One-Tail Jinchuriki, Gaara, the best way to suppress the Tailed Beast within him, resist the erosion of his consciousness, and avoid losing control was not to sleep.
Though Gaara was only seven years old, he had killed assassins sent by Sunagakure for several years. His heart had long become as cold as the sand in his gourd.
At this moment, all was silent within Sunagakure, with only moonlight pouring down like water.
Gaara stood quietly before the window of his home.
His small, slightly thin figure was stretched long by the moonlight, cast across the floor as though it had merged with the silent night.
He stared indifferently at the bright moon hanging high outside the window. His face was expressionless, while his eyes trembled faintly amid their dead stillness.
The moon cast its silver radiance over his cold face, making the blood-red character for "love" on his forehead stand out all the more.
That character for "love," red as blood beneath the cold moonlight, looked more like a curse—hideous and terrifying.
"Brat, do you hate them? Do you resent them?"
"Even I find their gazes