The Birth of Gaara

The Light Screen hanging high in the sky glowed softly once more.

The title of this broadcast appeared:

"I Only Know How to Kill, but I Want Everyone's Acceptance Too"

The mournful, beat-synced melody of "Angkor Wat DJ Tearful Version" slowly filled the world.

Its sorrowful lyrics echoed after it:

"I open my eyes and dream. What good does sending me home do..."

The Light Screen played a five-minute short film that brought tears to everyone's eyes.

The first scene appeared.

It showed a dim, quiet delivery room in Sunagakure.

Karura, a gentle woman with brown hair, lay weakly on the bed, cradling a newborn baby boy with soft red hair.

She was the wife of Fourth Kazekage Rasa and the mother of Temari, Kankuro, and Gaara.

The swaddled infant in her arms was Gaara, newly born.

Karura's face was deathly pale, her breathing faint. Her life was already coming to an end.

Yet as she looked at the child in her arms, her eyes held the deepest, most tender love in the world.

She gently pressed her forehead to the baby's and whispered, her voice faint but impossibly tender, "From today on, your name is... Gaara."

"I hope you'll grow up safe, surrounded by love."

Knowing she had little time left, Karura summoned every last trace of Chakra she had.

Warm, pure Chakra flowed steadily into the newborn Gaara.

She turned the last of her strength into sand of absolute defense, binding it to her son forever.

From that day forward, no matter when or where,

whenever Gaara faced danger, the protective sand would move on its own to defend him, unbroken and undiminished.

With that done, Karura had nothing left.

She turned to her younger brother Yashamaru, who stood beside her with grief on his face, fighting back tears. Her words came in broken, painful breaths. "Yashamaru... after I'm gone... take good care of my child... please..."

Eyes red, Yashamaru clenched his teeth and nodded through his tears.

With her brother's promise secured, Karura held her infant son close one last time. A tender, reluctant smile touched her lips as she closed her eyes forever.

The scene changed, and a chill swept in.

Outside the delivery room, Fourth Kazekage Rasa stood expressionless. There was not a trace of grief for his wife in his eyes.

He blamed her death entirely on their newborn son.

At that very time, Sunagakure's previous One-Tail Jinchuriki was nearing the end of his life.

The village urgently needed a new Jinchūriki to contain the Tailed Beast.

Newborn Gaara, with his unusual constitution, became the village's only viable choice.

Coldness surged in Rasa's eyes. Without hesitation, he ordered Shukaku the One-Tail forcibly sealed inside Gaara while the baby was still in swaddling clothes.

When the sealing was complete, the room felt bitterly cold.

Rasa turned to Yashamaru beside him. His voice held no warmth. "Find an opportunity to test him. Try to assassinate him."

"See whether he loses control."

"If he can't control the Tailed Beast and becomes nothing more than a tool for slaughter—"

"Even if he's my son, if he's useless, kill him."

Yashamaru went rigid.

On one side were his sister's dying words, entrusting her child to him. On the other was an order from the Kazekage that he could not defy.

Trapped between the two, Yashamaru could only grit his teeth and accept the order.

The scenes shifted, and the years quietly passed.

From then on, young Gaara lived amid endless coldness and malice.

Not one person in Sunagakure accepted him. Not one treated him kindly.

The villagers feared the Tailed Beast inside him and the power over sand he had been born with.

Children fled when they saw him. Adults met him with cold stares.

Loneliness, rejection, fear, and hostility filled his entire childhood.

One day, a Sunagakure Ninja acting on orders ambushed young Gaara, thrusting a Kunai straight at him.

But the instant it drew near, the sand around Gaara surged of its own accord!

Whoosh!

An invisible, absolute defense formed in an instant, stopping the attack cold.

The Ninja stared in shock. Unwilling to give up, he began forming Hand Seals for another attack.

But in the next instant, sand erupted all around him!

Grains as sharp as blades pierced straight through the Ninja's body.

Blood sprayed out, and he fell dead on the spot.

In the distant woods, Yashamaru watched the whole thing in silence, his pupils trembling and his heart torn.

Was this the invincible protection my sister gave her life to leave him...?

Yet even that shelter, born of all her love and strength, could not give him the slightest human warmth.

For a moment, warmth returned to the screen.

It was one of the few gentle times in Gaara's life.

At three years old, Gaara was sweet and innocent, shaping fine sand into all sorts of little toys.

His older siblings, Temari and Kankuro, adored their soft little brother.

They gathered around him and gently played along.

Temari smiled and teased him affectionately. "Our little Gaara is amazing!"

Kankuro crouched beside him too, patiently playing with the sand. The three laughed together in a scene full of warmth.

But that brief happiness was torn apart in an instant.

Rasa strode into the courtyard, his face livid, and roared, "Who gave you two permission to go near that monster?!"

"From this day on, anyone who has contact with him will be punished too!"

His vicious rebuke and icy rejection struck all three children hard.

Frightened by their father's fury, Temari and Kankuro no longer dared take a single step toward their little brother.

The warmth ended abruptly.

From then on, little Gaara was alone again.

Day after day, year after year.

He sat alone in silence and watched the sand alone. No voices or laughter surrounded him anymore.

The screen darkened suddenly, revealing the most heartbreaking scene of all.

The night was deep, with no one else in sight.

Yashamaru gripped the hidden dagger, torn to his very core.

In the end, he obeyed the Kazekage's order. When Gaara was alone and off guard, he struck!

The sharp dagger drove straight toward the unsuspecting boy!

But the protective sand bound to Gaara was always a step faster.

It moved on its own and blocked the dagger.

Before Yashamaru could react, the sand around him lashed back!

Slash!

A blade of sand pierced his body. Blood poured out.

Covered in blood, Yashamaru collapsed heavily to the ground.

Gaara stood frozen, his whole body stiff.

Then he saw who had tried to kill him: his uncle, the one person in the world who had treated him gently and kept him company.

Gaara's mind went blank.

Hot tears spilled down his cheeks. Trembling, he crouched beside Yashamaru and asked in a broken, choked voice, "Why... why did you try to kill me?!"

Dying, Yashamaru looked at the helpless boy weeping before him. In the end, he chose to follow his orders and crush the last of Gaara's hope.

His voice was faint, but every word cut deep into Gaara's heart. "I've wanted to kill you... for a long time."

"I'm tired of pretending to be kind to you. Tired of pretending I care."

"Gaara, remember this."

"No one loves you."

"Your mother died because of you too."

"You were born to bring about your mother's death. No one loves you. All you're fit for is killing."

Every word struck at his heart. Every sentence extinguished another hope.

In that moment, young Gaara broke completely.

So the attempts on his life, the rejection, and the hatred he had faced since childhood had never been his imagination.

So the one person who had stayed by his side and treated him gently had been pretending all along.

So his very birth had been a sin.

He crouched amid the blood and sobbed until his body shook, until despair consumed him.

From that moment on, the gentle, innocent child who longed to be loved and accepted was gone.

When Gaara appeared on the screen again, there was no light left in his eyes.

Only frozen indifference, bitter fury, and an overwhelming urge to kill remained.

Much later, Temari and Kankuro happened upon their little brother again.

After years apart, the soft, adorable child they remembered had changed beyond recognition.

Delighted, they stepped forward, hoping to play with him as they once had.

What met them instead was a murderous storm of sand.

Gaara's red eyes were cold, and every word cut like ice. "Take one more step and die."

Temari and Kankuro stopped dead, their hearts aching.

They stared at their little brother, now so cold and unfamiliar, helpless to do anything.

It's only been a few years... How did our sweet little brother, who used to smile so much, become like this...?

The scene changed one last time, bringing the story to its redemptive end.

The battlefield was devastated, wreckage strewn everywhere.

Gaara lay on the ground, covered in blood, gravely wounded and near death. He could not move.

Not far away, a blond boy, also covered in wounds and barely breathing, crawled toward him inch by inch.

It was Naruto Uzumaki.

Both were badly injured. Their limbs had no strength left, and neither could get up.

Naruto could only strain his neck and drag himself toward Gaara, little by little, inch by inch.

Barely alive, Gaara tensed in terror.

Memories of countless assassination attempts and acts of malice flooded his mind.

"Don't come any closer...!" Gaara said, trembling, his voice full of fear and wariness.

But Naruto acted as though he had not heard. He spent what little strength remained to keep drawing closer.

Gaara was sure Naruto had come to kill him, just like everyone else.

Instead, Naruto stopped in front of him. Tears covered his face, and his eyes were full of pain and sympathy. "You've... been hurting all this time, haven't you?"

Just one simple question.

It shattered every pretense, every cold defense, every piece of armor Gaara had built around himself.

Naruto looked into Gaara's hollow, crimson eyes and said through his tears, "Your eyes... are just like mine."

"I can tell... You've been lonely all this time, just like me. You've been hurting too."

Note: Everyone, the launch is tomorrow!

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