Blue

Summary:It's been 9 years. 9 years, 12 weeks, and 4 days since the Kazekage kidnapped me and sent an imposter to kill Gaara. I wonder… what became of you, my nephew?

Chapter 1

It's been 9 years. 9 years, 12 weeks, and 4 days since my brother-in-law, the Kazekage, kidnapped me and sent an impersonator to kill my nephew, Gaara. 9 years, 12 weeks, and 4 days I've been living in the hole with no human contact. 9 years, 12 weeks, and 4 days I've been completely alone.

Where do I live, you ask? I'll tell you right now, Hell. And no, there's no fire. Wait, let me take that back, I live in a place worse than Hell, because I'm not dead. It's a prison cell. It's small, dark, and it stinks. There's no light unless someone comes in to feed me or wash out the cell. What can I say? It's not like they put a toilet in here.

There are so many things I can't remember. The color of the sky. The color of the sand. A sunset. The taste of fruit. I don't even remember what I look like.

The only things I really do know are the feeling of sand, seeing as I'm constantly sitting on it, and Gaara's eyes. Everything else is fuzzy.

I could never forget Gaara's eyes. So sad and lonely and lost, the color of sea-foam and ringed with black. I wonder what's become of my beloved nephew. Did the imposter succeed in killing him or did Gaara grow up? Maybe he's even the Kazekage now. Ha ha, funny. Right.

It's a wonder I haven't cracked yet. Or maybe I have and I just don't realize it yet. How would I be able to tell anyway? I can't see my hand in front of my face, much less if I'm crazy.

Kami, I've got to get out of here. I've got to escape. I've tried before, when they first shoved me in here, but I never succeeded. I want to see the sun and the stars again. I want to taste something other than water and stale bread. I want to remember what it's like to touch another person and to see them!

I must escape…

Suddenly, the door to my cell opens, letting in light. I cry out and shield my eyes. Blind in the dark and blind in the light. Oh, what I would give to be able to see again!

A figure in the light kicks something into my cell. My weekly rations. The person doesn't say anything. They stopped trying to talk to me years ago. The light begins to get smaller as the door begins to close.

My eyes widen and I launch myself forward.

"No!" I cry in desperation, extending my arm and catching the door. My voice is weak and cracked from going so long without use.

"What the-?"

I scramble to my feet and leap through the doorway, running blindly down the hall. Everything's a blur of brown and yellow, but even though I can hardly see, it's the most beautiful thing I've even seen. Color! I'm free!

Then, suddenly, I'm on the ground again, my mouth full of sand and a heavy weight on my back. I groan, sensing that several fragile ribs may have broken. When did my body become so delicate?

My body begins moving backwards against my will. Something is wrapped around my ankle, dragging me. A hand? Fear blooms in my chest and I claw desperately at the sandy floor.

I cry out, my voice rough. "No! No, don't put me back in the dark! I don't want to! I don't want to! I want to see the sky again! I want to see what color the sky is! I want to see the sun! I want to see the stars! Oh, please, no! Please! Don't put me back in the-!"

A fist collides with my head, a sensation I vaguely remember. Pain. So this is pain… My eyelids flutter shut and the blurred colors around me melt into darkness.

The young, fifteen year-old Kazekage strode down the halls purposefully. Normally, Sabaku no Gaara wouldn't be anywhere near the village prison, but the spy they recently caught had been a sort of special case that required his direct interference.

Now, with the interrogation done, he should have been leaving, but a cry from what should have been an empty section of prison caught his attention.

He heard a crash as someone was tackled, soon followed by a cry.

"No! No, don't put me back in the dark! I don't want to! I don't want to! I want to see the sky again! I want to see what color the sky is! I want to see the sun! I want to see the stars! Oh, please, no! Please! Don't put me back in the-!"

Gaara frowned and picked up his stride. A sixth sense prodded at the back of his mind. Something was… wrong here.

He turned the corner just in time to see one of the prison guards shove something through a doorway and closed the door with a look of disgust on his face.

"What's going on here?"

The man whirled around. Upon sight of the young man, he began sweating bullets. "K-Kazekage-s-sama! W-what are you d-doing over h-here?"

"I should be asking you the same question." Gaara deadpanned. "There should not be any prisoners on this side of the building." The man's nervous actions were only making him more suspicious.

The man's eyes darted around. "Ah! Yes! Well… I'm just, ah… p-putting away extra i-items! Yes! Storing them, s-since, you know, there's no one on this side of the prison! Nope! No one at all!"

Gaara raised a brow. The man was a terrible liar. His eyes fell upon the claw marks in the sand and the spilled tin cup by the door. Water soaked into the sandy floor.

"Open the door."

The man started. "W-what?"

"I said open it."

He spluttered. "B-bu-but sir! You r-really have no reason t-t-t…"

"Now." The sand reared up, more than prepared to strike.

"Y-y-y-yes, s-s-sir! P-p-p-lease d-don't k-kill m-m-me!" he wailed, fumbling with the keys. For a moment, Gaara wondered if the man was going to soil himself. "I-I-I r-really don't k-k-know anything ab-b-bout this m-man. I-it's the c-c-council's o-orders. H-he's b-b-b-been here f-for years-s."

He opened the door with violently shaking hands and stepped aside. Gaara moved to go into the cell, but recoiled. His face turned to a frown.

It stinks. And this man is still alive? It smells worse than a corpse in here… He stepped back. "You go in and get him." He said.

The man looked aghast. "W-what?"

"Go in and get him." The redhead repeated, punctuating each syllable threateningly. Something was definitely not right with this situation. Why would there be a prisoner in this section of the building that he knew nothing about. Was the council hiding something?

The man nodded in terror and went into the cell, quickly coming out with an unconscious man in his arms.

The man was blonde and filthy. He smelled of decay and his body was beyond starved. His tattered, dirty clothing, if it could be called that, hung loosely upon his skeletal frame, his high cheekbones seeming almost hollow. If it weren't for the fact that his chest moved up and down with every breath, Gaara would have thought the man long dead.

The prison guard set the half-dead man on the ground, backing away quickly and wiping his hands on his clothing as if to be rid of some disease. The blonde man's head lolled limply toward the redheaded Kazekage, exposing his face.

Gaara's eyes widened to extremes. He gasped and backed away quickly, tripping and falling over in the process. No, ni, it couldn't be! He was dead! He was dead! That face… it was… it was…

"Yashamaru…"

He screamed.

End Chapter 1