The black storm's rampage finally subsided, leaving Sunagakure in ruins and facing the heavy task of rebuilding.
Sunagakure had no convenient, efficient helping hand like Yamato in Konoha, so its people could only rebuild step by step on their own.
But what drew more attention than the collapsed houses and buried streets was the tremendous shock the two figures in the crisis had given the villagers' innocent little hearts.
When it came to Shira, the villagers' attitude was almost uniformly one of praise and gratitude.
After he overexerted himself and fell unconscious, he was taken to the hospital, where villagers came to visit in an endless stream.
The injured people and medical workers he had saved at the medical station, along with their families, filled the corridor outside his room, bringing food from their own stores, clean water, and even some basic medicine for injuries.
"If it weren't for that kid, my old man would've kicked the bucket."
"Holy crap, when he rushed in, he was as fast as the wind!"
"We really misjudged him before. Who says someone who can't use Ninjutsu is useless? He's braver than a lot of ninjas!"
"I heard he used some kind of secret technique that pushed his body past its limits to save people. He still hasn't woken up."
Their discussions were full of admiration, gratitude, and a touch of guilt.
Through his actions, Shira had overturned the prejudice that had weighed on him for so long.
They would wake up in the middle of the night and slap themselves: "Damn me!"
Shira's heroic deeds spread with plenty of embellishment, becoming almost the only shining story to emerge from the disaster.
Even the teachers and higher-ups at the Ninja Academy saw him in a completely different light. They could hardly imagine how this kid, who wasn't even fully grown, had managed it with Taijutsu alone.
What he'd done was no less absurd than stepping on his right foot with his left to reach the top of his own head, then cracking his brain open for good measure, all without hurting himself in the end.
When Shira woke up, he remained as composed and rational beyond his years as ever in the face of the flood of gratitude and praise.
He didn't take credit or grow arrogant. He simply replied calmly, "History has never been forged by heroes, but by the masses! It is the people who are great! Heroes come from the people and protect the people, but when heroes are in danger, it is the people who risk their lives to protect them. Every person can become a hero, and heroes need the people's support at all times."
These words, which could never have appeared in the Shinobi World, left the villagers dumbstruck.
The villagers' response to Gaara, however, was far more complicated and contradictory.
The solid ice of fear had not melted, but the wall of sand that had stood firm in the storm had indeed smashed several clear cracks into it.
People no longer immediately avoided him as though he were a plague whenever they saw him, or directed undisguised hatred and curses at him.
But now, the looks they gave him had grown more complicated.
Those looks were a mixture of lingering fear, a hint of uncertain gratitude, deep confusion, and intense unease.
People would whisper:
"Hassan! Did you see? He used sand to protect us yesterday..."
"But why? Wasn't he..."
"I heard he helped block the wind for the medical team too."
"But that power is still scary. If he loses control, won't we be dead all the same?"
They no longer cursed him openly, but when he walked past, the crowd would still fall silent in an instant and instinctively make a wider path for him, averting their eyes, afraid to meet his gaze.
It was a silent, distant kind of awe-or perhaps fear.
An invisible, awkward stalemate spread through the air.
People could no longer confidently regard Gaara as nothing more than a monster, but years of fear and estrangement kept them from openly accepting his goodwill.
Some even secretly left food and clean water at the entrance to the area where he lived, then ran off as fast as thieves. It was both repayment and an "offering" in the hope of staying safe, a way to use these small "benefits" to keep this "ticking time bomb" stable.
Gaara: 666, they're bringing me offerings.
This change left Gaara even more bewildered and at a loss.
He was used to pure malice, but this complicated gratitude tinged with fear left him unsure how to respond.
He was still alone. That brief protection of sand did not seem to have truly brought him any closer to the villagers; it had only made the invisible wall a little more transparent, while leaving it as solid as ever.