I like to think that if one of the idiots playing soccer had just said thanks and taken the ball back, Gaara wouldn't have hurt anyone. I also like to think that if that person ended up being Gaara's friend, he wouldn't have lost it and gone totally nutters. I'm just going to wing it since I can't find the video online... if you know what wording I made an error of, let me know and I'll fix it. Using the English dub anime.

By the way, I'm writing that after Yashamaru stopped Gaara, he left. They talk after, while Yashamaru gets healed, because the anime never specified if he left.

PSS, I'm going to make two chapters if I get a review or PM. This one will basically be that nothing really changed, and he's still set on the path to become what he did. The second chapter- and any following chapters- would be Gaara's life if he wasn't set on that path.

So this is me, naming one of those idiots Fumiko Mitsuwa.

EDIT TWO: Ugh! I just realized after re-watching the flashback that it isn't a bench Gaara was sitting on, it was a swing! I have to go through all my chapters and rewrite that!

Edit three: I'm going to do a quick rewrite of chapters 1&2 for grammar reasons- I'm pretty sure that's why my reads go from 200 to 90 from chapter 1 to chapter two...

….

The ball floated slowly back down to the ground, cushioned by the swirling, lazy sand. The other kids gasped as it drifted into his hands- that boy's hands- the one their parents forbade them from even looking at. Now that Fumiko got a good look at him, now that he wasn't hiding his face, she realized that… he didn't look particularly bloodthirsty or murderous, like her mother had claimed.

He held out the ball, a shy smile on his face.

"Here," he said.

"It's that Gaara," Fumiko's friend Yoshiki hissed.

"He's so creepy," another, the goalie, cried. Gaara's eyes widened slightly as if surprised.

"Yoshiki-" Fumiko whispered.

"Let it be, Fumiko," he said sharply. "You can defend the losers, but even you know he's dangerous."

"But Yoshi-"

Gaara held out the ball again abruptly, and the other kids all screamed as if under attack, turning to run away. Fumiko gasped and moved to the side as she almost got trampled, but Yoshiki took her by the wrist to run.

"Wait! No, wait!" she heard Gaara mutter and thought, oh, no.

Fumiko cried out when she felt the sting of flying sand on her foot, and she was jerked from Yoshiki's hand. He spared a horrified look back, but didn't stop. She hit the ground hard, chin clunking against the dirt. Fumiko was dragged backwards, skin scraping against the sand, twisting to look at him. Fumiko locked eyes with the boy.

He was… frightened? What the…

She realized that this was probably why he was so rejected- not bloodthirsty, as many would say- but uncontrollable. She wrenched her body around, trying to tug free, but it was too late.

"Never again!" he yelled, and the sand rose up around him. Fumiko couldn't make herself scream.

I'm going to die.

"Gaara, no!"

Sand blasted around her, getting in Fumiko's eyes and mouth and nose, but it never hit her with the force it was going to. Looking up, she saw somebody- she wasn't sure who, her ears were still ringing and she was scared- in front of her.

The sand released.

…

She was hiding.

Fumiko had run as soon as Gaara let her go, but she had only gone around a building corner before she stopped. Fumiko peered around the corner, watching. She couldn't hear what the two were saying, but Gaara looked miserable.

After a few minutes, the man who stopped him winced and gripped his injured arm. Gaara tried to help him, but the man just shook his head and smiled before disappearing into a side street, leaving Gaara alone. His head stayed down, and he looked like he wanted to cry.

She watched, not sure why. She was scared that he would lose it again, use his powers, but…

He stood there, still as a statue, surveying the sand scattered across the ball field. Fumiko gasped and pulled her head back, slamming her back into the brick behind her.

"H-hello?" he called, and Fumiko twitched. "Who's there?"

Fumiko shook and wondered how quickly she could run, but then she remembered failing to run away already. She didn't move.

"Come out!" he commanded.

Slowly, she obeyed, peeking out first her head, and then the rest of her. Her knees were wobbly, but she managed a weak wave in his direction, smiling sheepishly.

"Hi," she said dumbly. Gaara's eyes searched hers for a minute before widening in recognition.

"You're that girl," he said.

Fumiko's fear dissipated somewhat in favor of a sudden defensiveness. "That girl has a name, you know," she chided. "I'm Fumiko. I'm also fine, by the way."

Fumiko froze.

Gaara blinked.

Then he gave a small, small smile and said, "Sorry."

…

"So, what's it like having a demon sealed inside you?" Fumiko asked, swinging her legs. She was so short- when she sat on the swing beside his, her feet didn't touch the ground. Gaara sat beside her with his bear on the other swing.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… does it talk to you?"

"You don't think I'm the demon?" he asked, surprised.

"What? No. At least, I don't think so…" she frowned. "I thought someone told me the demon was born with you… Right?"

"Yeah," he said. "Just… usually people think I'm going to hurt them."

"Like my mom!" Fumiko exclaimed.

Gaara smiled faintly. "Like your mom."

"You're nicer than I thought you would be," Fumiko thought aloud. "Everyone makes you seem so- Grr!" she growled, putting her hands up by her face, bending her fingers into claws. "Rawr! I'm gonna kill you with my freaky sand powers! Die!" she lowered her hands. "But you're not scary at all."

"I wish everyone else knew I wasn't the demon," Gaara said wistfully. "Actually, I wish I was never born with it."

"Why?"

He looked at Fumiko like she was completely and totally mental.

"So everyone would accept me."

"Well that's boring," Fumiko found herself saying before she could think better of it. "Why would you want them to be your friends?"

"They're your friends," he pointed out.

"Not really," she admitted. "They're Yoshiki's friends."

"Yoshiki?"

"My friend. Those guys are really… I wouldn't hold out for them."

"But… Isn't it nice to have people to play with?"

"Yeah… but, if you were normal, do you think they would be your good friends?"

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe."

Fumiko swung her legs back and forth and raised her hand up to scratch her head contemplatively. She wasn't really very good with words, or good advice- she was having a pleasant conversation with Gaara after he'd almost killed her, after all- but she could try. Now that she thought about it, Fumiko could recall seeing him almost everywhere, watching them play.

"If they aren't good friends who accept you for who you are, demon or not, then they really shouldn't be your friends. Yoshiki taught me that."

"Hah," he muttered. "Easy to say when you have the option of having good friends."

"Hmm..." Fumiko murmured, thinking. That was a very good point. If she didn't have any friends at all, Fumiko might have accepted a less-than friend. But Gaara was so nice, he deserved a more-than friend. Fumiko's eyes widened and she smacked her fist into her palm triumphantly, startling Gaara.

"I've got it!" Fumiko yelled. Gaara looked at her curiously, putting his bear on his lap and leaning forward to see her face.

"Got what?"

"I know how to solve your bad friend idea wish thing problem!"

"Huh?"

"I can be your good friend!" she smiled smugly, pleased with herself for the solution. And it was true, Fumiko didn't really mind that he housed a demon, now that it wasn't attacking her. She was pretty sure that it would solve the problem, and give her a new friend in the process.

"What?" he said dumbly.

"We could be friends," Fumiko said. "If that's okay with you."

...

After a while, she realized it was getting dark. The last time Yoshiki or anyone had seen her was when Fumiko was almost getting murdered by Gaara, and she realized her family would be having simultaneous heart attacks right about now, along with Yoshiko and the neighbors. So she went home, promising Gaara she knew her way back.

When she got home, though, Fumiko kind of wished that she had stayed with Gaara.

"Fumiko! You're alive!" her mother shrieked when she stepped onto the threshold. Her, Fumiko's father, her little sister Mai, and Yoshiki were all huddled together on the futon, eyes red and weirdly puffy. When she opened her mouth to speak, her father cried,

"How did you escape?"

"Yoshiki said Gaara got you!" Mai said in a teary voice.

"Gaara didn't kill me," Fumiko said, and gulped. "He... he's really nice, actually..."

"What?" her family all screamed together. Yoshiki stood and strode over in a few long strides, grasping her shoulders hard. His face was angry, and his eyes were just a little bit desperate. Fumiko shrank away, but he didn't let go, fingers digging into her arms.

"You didn't," he said in a low, serious voice, "make friends with a demon."

Her mother gasped, burying her head into Fumiko's father's shirt, crying things like "My stupid daughter" and "curse her soft heart."

"He's not a demon," Fumiko said defensively. "He was just born with it."

"He tried to kill you!"

"Not really. You all just made him really upset-"

"He tried to kill you!"

"-because you were treating him like a bad guy," Fumiko finished. "He was just trying to give us back the ball, not attack us at all, not kill us. All he wants is a friend, Yoshiki! Can't you-"

A harsh sound slipped through the air, skin on skin, and Fumiko's parents didn't protest when she cried out and fell backwards, cupping her cheek. Yoshiki stood above her, a dark expression on his face, eyes hidden by his hair. Fumiko trembled, eyes wide as saucers. Her face was hot.

"You can't be friends with him," Yoshiki stated.

"But, Yoshi-"

"Enough!" Fumiko's father roared, and Fumiko flinched. She wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor and vanish, because her father looked mad enough to hit her just like Yoshiki had. "You've upset you're mother, you made us believe you were dead, and worst of all, you risked your life!"

"D-"

"Go to your room!" he yelled. His face was red. Tears stung her eyes as she stared at her family. Her mother and Mai made no protest, and Yoshiki and her father just glared down at her. A tear fell, and Fumiko scrambled to her feet before dashing past all of them to her room. When she reached it, Fumiko slammed the door and fell onto her bed.

.....

Gaara climbed the few steps up to Fumiko's house, clutching the bag of medicine to his chest. He had still felt bad for hurting his new friend, so he had asked Yashamaru for healing salve to help, because he remembered seeing bruises and small cuts on Fumiko's face. Tentatively, he knocked on the door. He was expecting to see Fumiko, but what he got was a boy that had been dragging Fumiko- probably Yoshiki.

"What do you want?" he said with hard eyes.

"I- I'm sorry about earlier," Gaara said, smiling sheepishly. He showed Yoshiki the paper bag. "I know I must have hurt Fumiko. I brought her some medicine."

Yoshiki just glared at him.

"Get out of here, freak. Fumiko doesn't want to see you."

He slammed the door in Gaara's face.

...

"I've got it!" Fumiko yelled. Gaara looked at her curiously, putting his bear to the side and leaning forward to see her face.

"Got what?"

"I know how to solve your bad friend idea wish thing problem!"

"Huh?"

"I can be your good friend!"

She must have been lying, to avoid angering him.

He sat on the wall, staring at it and adding to the darkened sand with his own tears.

...

"Who was that?" Fumiko cried, launching out of her room. She had listened to the conversation before realizing who it must have been. She slammed the door with a vicious bang. Yoshiki looked at her, almost guiltily, but satisfied and self-righteous. His eyes were hard and his mouth was set in a grim line.

What do you want?" her brother said stiffly.

"I- sorry- earlier," A muffled voice said from outside. Fumiko could only make out every couple of words. "I know- hurt- Fumiko. I- medicine."

"Get out of here, freak. Fumiko doesn't want to see you."

"Was that Gaara?" she demanded. "Was it!"

Yoshiki stared her down for a minute. When it was clear she wasn't going to back down, he nodded. Fumiko yelled out in frustration and ran past him, shoving him hard out of the way. When she reached the door, she heard her father yell, "Fumiko, if you leave, don't bother coming back!"

Fumiko left.

...

Her tiny feet slapped lightly against the stone roads. She had been running for almost fifteen minutes, checking every place she could think of, although she didn't know Gaara well enough yet to tell where he would hide. If he heard what Yoshiki had said- and there was no way he hadn't- Gaara would think she was a liar.

Finally she found him sitting on the railing of the city's borders, staring over the edge.

"Gaara!" she cried, and he visibly stiffened. His bear was nowhere in sight. He didn't look at her until stopped a few feet away, breathing hard and stumbling. Panting, Fumiko placed her hands on her knees and just tried to breathe again for a second. Gaara watched her almost coldly, but there were tears in his eyes and on his cheeks.

"I- Yoshiki-" she gasped for air. "He said it- without asking me," she forced out. "My dad made me go to my room."

Gaara's face shone with doubt, but he didn't say anything as she collapsed down next to him. Fumiko's young body wasn't made for that much running, and sitting was a nice change. She could feel sand thrumming and shifting under her fingers, as it did whenever she was near him, and her feet dangled over the edge. When she finally wasn't gasping like a fish, she explained.

"When I got back, my family and Yoshiki were really mad."

"Why?"

"Because... because I said you were nice," she muttered. Gaara winced a little. "Then after- ... a bit..."

"This?" he said, touching the probably-still-bright-red-hand mark still throbbing on her face lightly with his pointer finger.

"Yeah. After that, my dad sent me to my room. Then after a little while, you knocked on the door. I didn't know it was you, I was getting dressed for bed," she clarified. "But then, Yoshiki started talking... and I realized he was talking to you, and as soon as I knew, I ran out the stupid door looking for you."

She paused.

"And now I can't go back home." her eyes filled with tears. "Kami, now I can't go back."

"Why not?" he said, concerned. His body shifted slightly to watch her sniffle, but he made no move to comfort Fumiko. She guessed that he either didn't know how, or that he didn't know he was supposed to. She wiped away a few tears and it finally hit her that she was homeless now.

"My dad said that if I left, not to go... back..."

Her head jerked up suddenly as a whistling sound filled the air. She saw something shiny just in front of her face before Gaara's hand flashed and a wall of sand rose behind her. Muffled thumping sounds pounded the shield. The sand had automatically rose to protect Gaara, but Gaara, Fumiko realized, had sensed the attack and shielded her on purpose.

...

Gaara heard it coming.

Before he could really process what the sound meant, he raised his hand to raise the sand to shield her.

The sand blocked multiple kunai shots that would have killed her instantly. Gaara knew it wouldn't have killed him, because of the sand, but he still gaped when he saw the blades lying on the ground once the sand fell. Shiny and sharp, one aimed at Fumiko's head, three aimed at his back. He registered her shocked eyes, and jerked his head around to see the attacker.

Why? Why me? he thought when the masked man pulled out more. Why is it always me?

But he couldn't let the man fire again. Gaara wasn't very accurate with his abilities, it was lucky that he got the shield up so quickly the first time. So he stood and blasted sand at the man, cocooning him. With a shout, he squeezed it, and the sand spat the man out with that awful cracking noise bodies made. When it hit the ground, Fumiko screamed.

"Who are you?" Gaara demanded in a shaky voice, holding his arms to his chest. "What do you want?"

When the man didn't answer him, he glanced at Fumiko, who took a few edging steps toward the body. Gaara followed suit, and just before they reached him, Gaara saw it: a bandage on the man's finger.

No. He swallowed. Gaarra knelt and cautiously so cautiously reached a trembling hand out the the cloth blocking the man's face from view. He touched it, then, steeling himself, yanked it off. Gaara's eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat.

Yashamaru lie there, dazed, blood coming out of his mouth and a cut on his forehead. He stared blankly at Gaara.

Gaara flinched. His eyes twitched and he trembled, clutching his chest. Gaara screamed in confusion, startling Fumiko, who stood beside the body, frozen in fear. Fumiko looked down on him in concern, but he could see that her eyes were drawn to the three thin trails of blood down Yashamaru's face. "Why... Why? Yashamaru... Why did you do it? I don't understand..."

Now Gaara's eyes welled with tears. His voice cracked. Gaara hunched over in grief, pulling on his own hair to try and alleviate the crushing pain in his heart.

"Tell me why..."

Surely, if he loved Gaara, he wouldn't have...

"I thought... Yashamaru... If I'm precious to y-you... how could you?"

"It was an order." his voice was whisper soft, and he couldn't seem to meet Gaara's eyes. Gaara sniffled and looked at him. "You see, I was ordered to kill you, Gaara. By Lord kazekage. Your father."

Fumiko's mouth opened in a silent gasp and Gaara just stared. His tears flowed on their own in his shock. Fumiko dropped to her knees beside Yashamaru, across from Gaara, and reached out a hand as if to wipe off the blood before pulling back.

"My father..?"

Gaara felt absolutely sick to his stomach, and he swallowed hard, putting a hand over his mouth. Gaara made a choking sound, trying not to scream again, or puke. "Why me?" he gasped when he got his nausea under control. His head stayed down. "Why would... my father..."

"You were born with the Shukaku." Yashamaru said. "A living sand spirit inside you. All these years you have been watched and studied... as 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 when your existence will become too dangerous for the village. It had to be done before then."

Finally Gaara looked up at him, tears in his eyes, and smiled bitterly, but also in relief, because that meant he still... Yashamaru still... But his father... He could feel Fumiko's hand on his arm as she reached over the soon-to-be-corpse. Her small voice trembled. "Gaara..."

"You had to obey my father." Gaara said. "You didn't have any choice."

"You're wrong." Yashamaru said with a faint, ironic smile. "I had a choice."

Flashing 'pain' shot through Gaara's veins hand in hand with surprise. He stared down at his uncle, eyes wider than he thought they could be, at the man who taught him about love and wounded hearts. He stared back, and Gaara wondered if, had he been more conscious, Yashamaru would have sugarcoated it. What is he... saying..?

Fumiko's grip tightened.

"Yes. Lord Kazekage made his wishes known to me," Yashamaru admitted. "But... I could have refused if I had chosen to."

Gaara's breath hitched and he tried to breathe.

"I suppose it's because... deep in my heart... I hate you, Gaara."

Gaara's heart almost stopped.

"...I've always hated you."

"Gaara," Fumiko said. His head jerked up spastically and he saw her and realized Yashamaru had aimed at her, too. Furiously he wiped an arm over his eyes, scraping off tears in an attempt to not seem so weak. However, more fell to replace them. "I don't think..."

"My sister died bringing you into this world. I can't forgive you for that." Yashamaru's eyes were longing and dull. He stared up at the sky. "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."

He paused, taking a breath.

"Your name is... the one your mother gave you. Your name is Gaara, a demon that 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."

Fumiko's hand was warm through his shirt.

"This is the dying gift your mother left you. But not out of maternal affection. It is not from love that she gave you your name." Yashamaru's voice turned almost harsh. "It was from her undying rage at this village- it was part of her curse that you should survive and grow."

Gaara cried out, trying to voice his own feelings. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he wanted to pass out.

"Her hate lives on in you. You were never loved, Gaara."

"Gaara, please-" Fumiko said, but Gaara couldn't really hear her anymore.

"Never."

"But... Fumiko..." Gaara muttered. "She..."

Yashamaru reached for his jacket and Fumiko had to let go of Gaara's sleeve. Unzipping it, there was a spark as the papers pasted to his body lit up. Gaara didn't realize what it was until it was too late, caught up in grief like he was. The spark burned.

"But now..." he smiled softly, and Fumiko screamed, realizing too late, too late. Gaara still didn't understand. "It's over."

There was quiet as sadness drowned out Fumiko's ringing screams.

"Please die."

There was a bright light, and Yashamaru exploded with a bang that deafened everything, even Gaara's own grief for that split second. Gaara's eyes widened as his sand flew to protect him, and before it could fully envelope him, he saw the outline of Fumiko's face, deadly stark in the bright white light. Her mouth was open, eyes wide, outlined in a scream.

The sand enclosed him.

When the rumbling faded, Gaara's heart was pounding out of his throat because now, only after it was more than too late, did he realize what the spark had meant. New tears welled up and he shook, because please, no...

The sand dissolved and he saw it, he saw it, and he didn't want to.

There were two shapes on the ground, unrecognizable, charred beyond any resemblance of before. Yashamaru was just a scattered pile of ash, and Fumiko... Fumiko was mangled, more than halfway obliterated, the rest of her hard and black like a log after a fire. She no longer resembled a human being. Just a cinder.

Gone.

With a cry he threw himself down, and the sand collapsed around him. He just cried. His fingers dug into the sand.

Was he right?

Was she right?

With a scream, he lunged back up onto his knees, and the sand etched his grief out on his forehead in remembrance, to never forget. He just screamed and cried as sand swirled like a starburst into the air, responding to his shattered emotions. He felt so, so weak, and it hurt so badly...

When he was done, the sand just hovered, gently raining down as Gaara's rage subsided. He breathed heavily; couldn't find the strength in his body to clutch at his heart anymore. Yashamaru swirled in his mind, smiling, bloody. Gaara could still feel Fumiko's warmth on his skin. It hurt, it hurt.

Love no one else. Care for no one's existence but your own. Fight only for yourself.

His forehead bled where the sand wore away the skin.

"So that's Gaara." he whispered hoarsely. "I understand now."

If I don't care, it won't hurt.

"I'm alone. I'll no longer care about anyone, or love anyone else. I'm all alone."

His eyes turned sharp.

"I am all that matters."

Blood dripped into his eye, and Gaara could feel every line of his new, awful mark.

Love.

...

So I really want to write a second chapter, because it sounds really interesting. So please, just one person, review!

Edit three: So this is a 'what if' chapter. The second one is the same, except that- plot twist!- she survives, and the story goes on from there!