So I've become slightly obsessed with sand sibs 2.0 and Papa Gaara, this is just a little(?) oneshot about how I think they came to be adopted by him, be forewarned that thanks to there being basically no info on these three (I think Araya's personality trait is…. mask?) I'm gonna be filling in the blanks with personal headcanons, that will inevitably be proven wrong once more chapters of Boruto come out. I don't particularly care, tbh I'm not even gonna read the manga outside of any sand fam bits cause I really don't want to see any of my old faves ruined (still not happy about Gaa's characterisation in that last chap), just be aware that this will probably seem wildly ooc in a few months' time, especially Araya, who most people seem to think is gonna be like Shino or Neji or one of the other 12 bajillion 'stoic, quiet, badass' characters in Naruto and, yeah he probably is, but I think this is a more interesting take so w/e.

Gaara's about 25-26 in this, sand sibs 2.0 between 5 and 6, just as a reference point.

Gaara stared up at the sky, it was more red than usual this evening, light reflecting and bouncing off the grains of sand in the air; a storm was coming.

That was to be expected, the rainy season always brought thunderstorms, as well as the life-giving water that filled their reservoirs and caused the flowers and cacti seeds buried deep in the earth to bloom and create a blanket of wildflowers across the desert plains. It was one of the most spectacular sights the desert had to offer.

But, before that could happen, there had to be the storms.

"As you can see, our facilities have improved greatly, with the help of your funding, of course. In the last year and a half, we've added two new extensions to our living quarters, giving us enough rooms to have only two children per room, rather than the previous three or four, as well as the much needed extra bathrooms, with modern plumbing imported from Tetsu no Kuni.

"We still need to find more land for specialised teaching rooms, we currently have classes of over thirty children and there's simply not enough space for them to sit comfortably, let alone provide an effective learning environment; of course we would also need to hire more teaching staff to reduce class size," Yumiko said.

Gaara nodded to show he had taken in her words; he already knew most of this – he'd read the inspection reports – but hearing from the orphanage's director herself allowed him a greater understanding of what she believed was important, which helped him to evaluate her competency; he didn't like to doubt the people of his village, but he knew that those in positions of power didn't always act in the best interests of those under their care.

"And the older buildings?" he asked, "Will they be able to withstand the rainy season, or will repairs need to be made?" He turned his gaze away from the twilit sky and looked up into the eyes of the older woman.

"We had a maintenance crew inspect all of our buildings for structural damage last week, the roof of building two needs minor repairs, we have already submitted a mission request and expect a genin team to be arriving tomorrow morning." Her tone was cool and she didn't mince words. Gaara liked her.

He nodded once again, following her into the orphanage's reception area. It was clean and bright, most buildings in Suna didn't bother with decoration, the walls were the same golden brown on the inside that they were on the outside, but here brightly coloured papers covered every inch of space, they were cut roughly, into unidentifiable shapes and paint and ink was scribbled onto their surfaces – only in the most uncomplimentary colours possible it seemed.

Yumiko stopped walking ahead when she noticed he wasn't following, she glanced back at him, then at the wall of colour. "The children made those, we asked them to make their favourite animal and write why they liked it on the back. It's just something to brighten the place up, our tenants and visitors have both responded well," she explained.

The Kazekage slowly wandered over to the wall and picked one out at random; a… cat? He turned the paper and worked his way through the scribbled handwriting, 'I like the tanki cause it is strong and protekts every one,' oh, it was supposed to be a tanuki not a ca-

Oh.

The tall woman came up beside him and glanced at the decoration he had picked up. "Ah, yes. That one's a very popular choice, if you want to come back and look at them – after our meeting – I'm sure the children would be thrilled to know you liked their work."

Gaara carefully pinned the drawing back on the wall and turned back to Yumiko, "Ah, yes, perhaps I will," he said.

The manager simply nodded and started leading him on a tour of the orphanage.

"Right now, all the children are in the assembly hall, we use it as an entertainment room in the evenings, giving them a short time to play before they get ready for bed," the woman stated, breezing past the set of double doors. Gaara could hear the muffled chatter and laughter, coming from behind them.

He stopped walking and stared at the doors.

"Actually, I was hoping to speak to the children," he stated, quietly.

Yumiko halted so suddenly, he almost heard the screech of her shoes on the floor. "I-I'm sorry?" she asked, turning to stare at him with something like disbelief on her face.

"The children. I would like to speak with them. Hear their opinions on how the orphanage is being run."

"Well, I can understand that, but I don't think now is the best time, it's nearly their bedtime and a visit from the Kazekage – of all people – would only serve to excite them and-"

"Please, I cannot guarantee that I will have time to visit them in the coming weeks and I would like to see how they are doing… Their wellbeing means a great deal to me," he said, it was true, everyone knew it.

After the war was over, a large number of his shinobi had lost their lives; leaving many, many children without homes or families. He'd always been highly invested in improving the childcare system – ever since he was first inducted as Kazekage – and he'd helped this very orphanage turn from a decrepit wreck, run by people who should never have had any contact with children (and they never would again, he'd made sure of that), into a modern and comfortable facility, with every employee given rigorous background checks and personally authorised by him.

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again and sighed. "Very well, Gaara-sama, I understand. Just, please try to keep them calm, it will make things easier on our staff," she said, rubbing at her temple wearily.

"Of course, I will only be asking them a few questions," he attempted to reassure her, it was something he'd been practising with Kankuro lately, though he wasn't sure how well it was going.

She flashed a tiny smile at him, before her face once again returned to its usual severe expression, "I will just go and make sure they are prepared then, I'll call you in when they are settled," she didn't wait for a response before marching into the hall, doors slamming hard behind her.

Outside, Gaara took a minute to calm his mind. He shouldn't be nervous about speaking to a room full of children, he'd given vastly more important speeches to vastly more intimidating people, but he'd always had a… complicated relationship with kids.

For so much of his life they had been a source of so much strife, when he was a child himself – before he had allowed Shukaku to dominate his life and thoughts so completely, before he gave in to despair and hatred – they had been his most obvious aggressors, even more so than the adults. Everyone old enough to truly understand what he was, what he contained, knew to fear him. They would avoid meeting his gaze, mutter abuse under their breath as he passed, but never outright attack him. The other children though, they didn't know why he was feared, only that he was; they were the ones who'd shout insults at him and hurl stones that shattered against his sand shield.

Now, he knew better, knew that they were just taking the words their parents would mutter behind his back and throwing them in his face, that they didn't really understand what they were doing and that the quiet, insidious hate of the adults was by far the worst type of hate he had experienced from anyone outside of his own family.

But as old as those scars were, as long ago they had healed, they were still visible to his mind's eye, reminders that he could not simply forget, as much as he wished he could.

A cough from beside him broke him out of his thoughts.

"Gaara-sama, they're ready for you now," Yumiko said, holding the door open for him.

He straightened and nodded his acknowledgement, "Thank you."

Walking into the hall was an assault on the senses; just like in the reception, bright colours covered every part of this room, children's paintings and crafts pinned to every wall, bright strips of cloth criss-crossed the ceiling and held aloft mobiles of stars and moons. The air was heavy with the smells of many bodies packed together and a tinge of the stew they must have eaten for dinner.

The second the door had closed behind him the children, clustered in an indistinct semi-circle, all chorused, "Good evening Kazekage-sama!" led by the carers sitting amongst them.

He didn't smile, but the sincere welcome did give him the prickling warmth that he associated with long nights relaxing in the company of his siblings, or time catching up with his friends in Konoha. "Thank you, I hope you are all well?" he asked, watching the crowd in front of him.

A choir of 'yeses' filled the air, he waited until everyone had settled down before speaking again, "I am here today to inspect this orphanage, Yumiko-san has already told me what she thinks needs to be improved, but you will be the ones most affected by any changes we make, so I would like to hear your opinions, hear what you think might make you happier living here. I cannot promise that everything you ask for will be provided, but I can promise that I will listen to everything you have to say and will do everything in my power to make sure your requests are fulfilled."

Suddenly there was a wall of noise.

All of the children were chattering excitedly to each other and waving their hands wildly trying to get his attention. His eyes flitted around the children causing his – already sensitive – hearing to overload completely, this was why he was so nervous around kids, they were too unpredictable and uncontrollable.

He glanced to Yumiko in a silent plea for help, though he kept his face studiously blank as always.

She sighed and clapped her hands once, producing a shockwave that did little more than ruffle a few clothes, but it immediately silenced the rowdy kids. An interesting use of jutsu, clearly she was reducing its power so as to not cause any actual harm, but interesting nonetheless. Gaara absently wondered why she would choose to end her service, she had been a powerful jounin under Temari's command, but then again she wasn't the only one to resign after the war had ended, honestly he couldn't blame them.

"Good. Now Kazekage-sama can hardly hear what you say if you all speak at once, can he?" she asked, tone and eyes sharp, "I think I might have a better idea; get into groups of no more than ten, you may discuss your ideas – quietly – and write them down on paper, we will collect them all in fifteen minutes. Kazekage-sama, if you wish to go around and speak to the groups to gain a better understanding of the children's ideas and feelings then you may, this will work fine I believe?"

Gaara nodded his assent, inwardly relieved that someone had saved him. He watched the boys and girls eagerly grouping up, most likely they were choosing to sit with their friends, babbling easily together and snatching up pens and pencils as the care assistants found paper for each group.

Letting the children – and his own mind, though he wouldn't admit it – settle for a minute he silently observed them, trying to get a read on the social dynamics at play.

There were two large groups; ten each, with mostly boys in one and girls in the other, he had never quite understood that, but apparently it was normal for young children to gravitate to same-gender friendships, they were also the noisiest of all the groups, with kids talking over each other and yanking pens out of each other's hands.

There was a slightly smaller group, this one seemed to contain the shyer children, they were far more sensible in their discussion and were actually asking the assistants for advice, he frowned slightly and moved to sit with that group first, he didn't want the children's opinions to be contaminated by the adult's.

"So, what is it you are discussing here?" he asked, unsure how to start the conversation.

All of the kids glanced around at each other nervously, until one of the braver ones rose his head. "Uhm, we were talking about our meals – they're nice! – but, umm, we have the same seven meals every week, we think that, um, we should have more different meals and stuff…" he petered off at the end, but the rest of his group was nodding to back him up.

"That is a valid concern, I'm sure me and Yumiko-san can work something out," he said, as gently as he could.

This seemed to encourage the other children, who started talking openly about their ideas, mostly small things that would just make life a little more interesting for them; he had to leave them after a few minutes, he still wanted to speak to some of the other children, but he was happy with this progress.

He spent the next ten minutes wandering from group to group, some had ideas that were completely unreasonable – a pool in the yard and no more timeouts was certainly never going to happen, even if they would make the children happier – but, they were also showing him concerns that hadn't been brought up by Yumiko and that he would never have even considered by himself; a strict schedule that made the days predictable and boring, the tendency to promote the smarter children's achievements, discouraging those who were slower to learn and too much pressure to succeed. These were the things he had wanted to hear about, the things that directly impacted a child's wellbeing and happiness.

He was getting ready to call it a day when he heard something from across the room; laughter, he'd heard a lot of that already of course, but this was a different kind of laughter, the mocking, spiteful kind that made him instinctively tense up.

Gaara turned his head to find its source, a group of six, all snickering and glancing around surreptitiously.

"Oh, oh! I've got another one, they should get rid of all the ugly kids, no one's gonna adopt them, so they're just using up stuff that could be for us," the girl burst into hysterics, along with her friends.

"So, just get rid of Araya then?" a boy added, followed by a choir of 'ohhh!'s.

The Kazekage frowned deeply, feeling his hands clench into tight fists. He followed the children's gazes to the far corner, where three children were sitting, separated from everyone else by a fair few meters, backs towards the larger groups and radiating a coldness so strong that even the emotionally stunted Gaara could feel it.

"Ichiro! It's cruel to say things like that," the hapless carer sitting with the bully's group said, clearly failing to control his charges.

"It's true though, who'd want Ugly, Cranky and Freaky over there anyway?" the boy asked, directly staring at the three outsiders. It almost seemed like he wanted to start a fight, he was speaking loudly enough that they could hear him and he was entirely too interested in their reactions.

Apparently his victims were at their breaking point, or at least one of them was. A young girl with blond hair, cropped short, was on her feet and halfway across the room in seconds, it was only the two boys sitting with her who stopped her sprint towards the nasty kids; each grabbing hold of one of her skinny arms and dragging her back, though not towards the corner they had been in earlier, they were instead making haste to the doors.

Gaara watched uncertainly, he knew he should step in – the other adults hadn't seemed to notice the disturbance, too busy keeping their own groups under control – but his immediate instincts were telling him to shut them up the only way that had ever worked in the past.

He took a sharp breath in and slowly counted to ten in his head, those thoughts were less common these days, but this situation was bringing up memories and feelings that clouded his judgement.

"Ichiro, Kimiya!" Yumiko's voice was a surprising comfort, despite its tone. "Both of you, to my office right now, how many times must I tell you that such comments are not allowed – and if front of our Kazekage as well! What must he think of you now?"

The redhead didn't appreciate being unexpectedly thrown under pressure like this, but he understood the reasoning; he was a respected figure, his disapproval would likely be a stronger punishment than hers.

The two children stared at him anxiously, almost like they were awaiting a physical blow from him.

He slowly let out his held breath, being careful to keep his voice level, though he couldn't quite keep the edge of coldness out of it, "To belittle another, for a reason so… petty, is unacceptable. Were you one of my shinobi, I would have you suspended from your duties until you could prove to me that you can care about others, as much as you do yourselves,

"Teamwork, understanding, compassion, friendship; these are the values that I have based my leadership as Kazekage on, the values I hope to instil in all of my shinobi and my citizens. And yes, it takes time and effort to learn those values, I know this because I myself had to learn them, over many years and with many failures. My hate towards others led me down a dark path, one that would have consumed me, had I not been pulled out at the last moment, saved by my first friend, the one who opened my eyes to the truth,

"We live in a harsh world, one that will take all it can from you – as I'm sure everyone here knows all too well – you should never turn on those around you, not when you might one day rely on those people to help you. Hate will only ever lead to more hate, it is never easy to forgo it, but we must; because if we do not, we will never be more than those who came before us,

"The cycle has to end somewhere, my goal, my duty, is to end it with us."

Gaara opened his eyes slowly, he hadn't been expecting to launch into a full speech, but then again when he spoke about his past and his ambitions he could never stop himself from bringing Naruto into his words. Apparently it was quite annoying, Kankuro would probably be laughing right now.

The silence stretched out uncomfortably, before Yumiko finally saved him, yet again, "Very well said, Kazekage-sama, I hope all of you payed attention and learned something from that. Ichiro, Kimiya, my office. I'll speak with you once I've seen our gracious visitor out, everyone else, go get cleaned up for bed."

There was a sudden flurry of movement, the two troublemakers darted out of the room without once looking at him, but he didn't feel particularly bad about it.

Had they been a few years older, he would've given them an actual punishment, as it was; they were young, they had plenty of time to learn, he could only hope they would take this opportunity for what it was.

As the other children were ushered out by the four carers – many of them stopping to thank him for visiting or bowing as they passed – Yumiko made her way over to him, carrying with her the gathered papers the kids had been working on earlier. "I am deeply sorry you had to witness that, those two have always had a mean streak, but I do believe that your speech got through to them this time. I'm impressed, you certainly do have a way with words, though I already knew that, Commander General." She held out the stack to him, tight-lipped smile on her face.

"No, I am glad I was here, I can learn more about what needs to be changed by witnessing problems myself," he said, following her lead out into the hallway, it was already completely clear. "However, I am curious about those three who were being harassed. What is their story?"

The woman sighed, "They are… troubled children. Of course every child here has a sad story, but those three… Shinki, the quiet one, we don't actually know much about, he's reticent and we've found no records of him or his birth parents. I suspect he remembers more than he lets on, but he's very slow to trust and especially dislikes adults,

"Yodo, she lived on the streets until recently; she never knew her parents, likely never had any carer that lasted for more than a few months. Her life was hard, stealing and sleeping in whatever alley was cleanest, she's finding it difficult to adjust and her temper is poor, when she gets angry she gets violent – and it doesn't take much to make her angry,

"And lastly is Araya, he's a sweet boy, shy and very emotional. His parents were killed in a fire two years ago, he lived, but was badly burned, his face in particular visibly scarred and deformed. It hasn't made him many friends, though he himself wouldn't hurt a fly."

Gaara nodded, wheels clicking in his mind, those stories certainly held elements that he could relate to his own childhood. "And the bullying, how long has it been going on?"

"Since they first came here. I've tried my best to integrate them with the other children, but the bullies have simply taken to attacking them when no one is watching and the three themselves don't seem to care for making friends, they're content with just each other I suppose," Yumiko explained.

He could understand, when you had one friend in a world that hates you, that felt like it was enough. Even if that friend was a world away and likely didn't even remember you.

Even if that 'friend' was the voice in your own head, begging for blood.

These three children were incredibly lucky that they had formed such close bonds, even if they were formed out of pain and similar circumstances, but those bonds alone weren't enough. Even when he'd seen the light that was Naruto and made that – awful, painful, necessary – decision to change his very way of being, he hadn't done it through the force of that one friendship alone.

He'd done it with his family; his brother staying up with him on the bad nights, the nights that were endless screams and bad feelings bubbling beneath the surface, even though he was still terrified that his little brother might snap at any second. Temari gently coaching him through social interaction, after he'd done all he could to avoid it for six years, being honest when he was doing something wrong, but never pushing him farther than he could handle. Letting him talk through his problems as a sympathetic, but rational, councillor.

Matsuri, his first – and thus far only – student, she'd been the first one outside of his family to truly accept him and give him the chance to change. Baki, the one who had first put the thought of becoming Kazekage into his head, the man who had given him heavy expectations to live up to, expectations that had made him into the leader he was today.

Without all of them… well, there was no telling how long it would have been before he slipped back into the darkness without them holding him up and his only other source of light far, far away.

Shinki, Yodo and Araya probably wouldn't slip down the same steep dune he had, they already had a stable foundation in each other (and they didn't have the quicksand that was Shukaku sucking at their heels), but he felt some of what they must be going through right now.

"I… think I would like to speak to them," he said, tone audibly unsure, but the whirring gears of his mind working through some strange new feelings now had almost all of his attention.

The orphanage's manager didn't object, she simply nodded and opened the entryway for him. "They usually hide out by the trash when Yodo has one of her 'moments', please, be careful with them," she said, giving him the most genuine smile he'd yet to see on her.

He felt it only polite to reciprocate, "Thank you, Yumiko-san. I… might need to talk to you again, afterwards," he could barely believe the words coming out of his own mouth.

She chuckled lightly, "I thought so, I'll be in my office until eleven tonight," with that said she let the door close behind him.

Gaara took a deep breath of the early night air, it was thick and damp with the promise of the coming storm, but the bitter cold helped to clear his thoughts somewhat. With his nerves settled and a sense of purpose he hadn't felt since the end of the war, he went to find the children.

It didn't take long; as Yumiko had guessed, they were hiding next to the large earthen containers that smelled entirely unpleasant, huddled together, the two boys each holding one of the girl's hands, humming softly to each other. Gaara almost didn't want to interrupt this private moment, but his presence didn't stay unnoticed for long before the blond's eyes snapped open and glared darkly at him.

"What're ya lookin' at?" she snapped, causing the two boys to look around in confusion until they spotted him.

The Kazekage didn't say anything, simply hiked up his formal robes enough to sit cross-legged in front of them. He met the bold child's gaze evenly, but kept his face placid – which wasn't hard, given that was its default setting – quietly observing the details that he had missed earlier.

The girl was clearly the most outspoken of the three and the most outwardly hostile, she was thin, but thin in the way that the stray alley cats common in Suna were, underfed and bony, but with toned, lean muscle hidden beneath scarred skin. Shinki was fairly ordinary-looking, a boyish face without any particularly notable features, but his expression was distant, no… detached, like he wasn't even really there, but was buried somewhere deep in his own mind. Gaara's interest piqued at that, detachment was a feeling he was very familiar with.

And Araya, well, Yumiko had not been exaggerating when she said he was scarred. Half his face was misshapen, pinkish-white scar tissue covering strange lumps, his right eye half covered by a drooping brow and his iris clouded, was he blind? It looked painful, though it had to have healed a long time ago. Underneath that though, he looked just the same as any other child, his expression – though twisted by rigid scar-tissue – was the most open of the group and, right now, he looked terrified.

Gaara still didn't say anything, if this unfamiliar feeling was right this conversation could have huge ramifications, depending on how it went.

"Well?" Yodo asked again, pulling her hand out of Shinki's grasp to point it accusingly at her Kazekage, he couldn't shake the sudden sense of déjà vu that shook him to his core as the memory of another scruffy blond pointing directly at him flittered across his eyes.

If he looked back on it, perhaps he would mark that moment as the one that changed everything.

"You three have a strong bond, I envy you."

The girl blinked at him, Araya glanced confusedly between his friends and his Kage and Shinki's eyes shifted, suddenly he was looking at him, instead of through him.

Yodo was the first to voice her thoughts, "Huh?"

The redhead smiled, genuinely smiled, he somehow couldn't bring himself to be nervous anymore, and looked between the three, "To have such close friends, that is a true blessing, I wish that I had been so lucky when I was your age."

"But, every kid has friends, lots more than we do," Araya said, "and you're the Kazekage, you must have more friends than anyone."

Gaara shook his head gently, "Less than you would think, I didn't make my first friend until I was twelve years old. But here you are, with two each already, that is something to cherish and celebrate."

The girl was still scowling at him – only slightly less aggravated than before – and the scarred boy looked utterly perplexed, though that was a distinct improvement over fear, Shinki was giving him a long, hard stare, his face was still blank, but it was clear the wheels were turning in his head.

"Kazekage-sama, what are you doing here?" he asked slowly, eyes narrowed as he watched for every reaction from the adult; yes, this one definitely felt very familiar.

"I heard what those children said earlier, does that happen a lot?"

The blond's glare deepened and she butted in before either of her friends could speak, "Yeah, but no, we don't want you to tell Yumiko-san or tell them to stop. It doesn't work and we can handle ourselves just fine."

"I've no doubt you can," Gaara chuckled, softly, "but I am asking because I'm worried you might be starting to hate them, the true hatred that you feel in your bones. The hate that makes you want to see those who hurt you bleed and scream, I would not blame you for it – in fact I would be impressed if you did not – but that path of hatred is not a pleasant one to walk. It looks appealing and the first few steps are deceptively easy, but once you start down it, the sandstorm will eventually rise to hinder your journey, it will tear at your mind and make you lose your way, eventually you will be buried under the weight of all that hatred."

All three looked to each other for a long moment; there was definitely a silent communication going on, he and his own siblings had the same ability, but he couldn't read their faces well enough to guess what they were thinking.

Shinki appeared to be voted their spokesman.

"Maybe we do, but what other option do we have? They hated us first and we can't force them to stop, but, we aren't going to hurt them… well, Yodo might, but she can't help it."

Gaara knew exactly what he wanted to do, "Let me show you a different path," he said, holding out his hands to them.

"Let me be your light in the darkness."

Kankuro glared at the sight before him.

Sitting innocently across the table from him was a plate, a full plate of cold food.

Gaara was so gonna get it for coming home late again.

Sure he was busy with Kage business and emergencies cropped up all the time, but they had promised that at least one night a week they would have a family dinner together – even without Temari and, yes, he was still bitter about that, he'd planned to whine about it to his little brother tonight. Unless some huge, earth-shaking, Suna-destroying event had happened in the past two and a half hours, he had no intention of letting Gaara off the hook this time.

And he'd like to think he'd have noticed if there was something wrong.

He'd cooked salted tongue for crying out loud!

About halfway through the list he was making of all the unexpected places his brother could find disembodied puppet limbs the next morning, he finally heard the front door open and shut gently.

"Oh, look who finally decided to show up, y'know, if you like your dinner cold and inedible you could just ask Temari to make it right?" he called out, putting on his most annoyed expression ready for when Gaara entered the kit-

What.

"What."

The serious and respected Kazekage, the boy who had once held a monster – once almost been a monster – one of the most powerful men in the world, stood uncertainly in the doorway, one child in each arm and a third child draped over his back, all three of them fast asleep.

"Wha-"

"Onii-san, I need help, how quickly can you build three beds?"

Kankuro never got around to finishing his list.