Chapter 22 Part 2
The first thing I felt, rounding the corner — was hard. Solid. And then, a moment later, very, very painful.
"Gh—?!" I found myself on the ground — left side of my face stinging, sides aching.
What the hell was that?!
A shadow covered my vision, but the sun made it almost impossible to see the source. I shook my head, dazed — squinting — trying to make out whoever I'd apparently crashed into.
"Ah..." That was all I could manage, looking up at the sudden obstacle from the ground. I was completely lost. Couldn't find words. They'd jammed somewhere in my throat. And there was good reason!
"..." The obstacle was silent — staring down at me with lifeless turquoise eyes, ringed by thick black lines. An impassive, motionless face framed by short crimson hair. Soft features — but with that expression? Utterly repulsive.
And the smell. A revolting smell of iron and sand, mixed with the foul aftertaste of rot.
I froze — shocked by the sudden assault of deeply unpleasant sensations. Paired with the bitter-sour, parching chakra radiating from this person — I had zero doubt who this girl was.
"Ah — I'm sorry! I didn't mean to run into you..." I tried to force a pleasant smile. Felt impossibly hard. Not easy to be friendly when someone's looking at you like a piece of meat that just happens to still be breathing.
"H-hey, Gaara!" A nervous voice from behind the redhead. "This guy definitely wasn't looking for trouble, right?!"
Strong hands grabbed me by the scruff and hauled me roughly upright.
"Y-yeah... We're not looking for trouble, right?!" Another voice — just as shaky — babbled next to me. "He's sorry! Really, REALLY sorry!!! He's apologizing — right?!"
"Y-yes — I'm sorry..." I echoed like an obedient puppet, still out of it — trying to process what'd just happened.
"See?! No need to kill him here! We're not at home!..."
The tall blond boy and the girl in black were both talking over each other — urging the redhead not to do anything stupid in a foreign Village. They looked and sounded genuinely scared. Unsurprising — given Gaara's reputation.
"...Shut up. Both of you." The jinchuriki's voice was cold. Irritated. "You're annoying."
Now that I was on my feet — recovered from the initial shock — I could see Gaara was fairly short. Maybe a third or quarter of a head shorter than Naruko. She also had, as far as I could tell, a fragile build. Pale — almost sickly-white skin. Which looked incredibly strange for a desert dweller.
The youngest Sabaku stepped closer — staring point-blank, unblinking. Her Tailed Beast's chakra was almost unobstructed — not quite as suffocating as the Fox, but still deeply uncomfortable. And that wasn't even counting the vibes Gaara herself gave off: the aura of mortal danger. The scent of blood-soaked sand she carried everywhere.
"Is something the matter?" I asked, polite. Wrestled back control of my mind. Could think calmly again. And no — I couldn't say my fear was completely gone. I was still wary. But reason said I wasn't about to die here and now. Dangerous as Gaara was — she wouldn't just murder random passersby in someone else's Village.
Besides... the longer I watched her, the more another feeling started pushing the fear aside.
Pity.
Looking at her closely — I couldn't help it. My heart clenched. She didn't look well. You could read it in her whole body. The bags under her eyes — especially stark against that pale skin. It felt like she hadn't slept in weeks. And knowing her condition? That's probably exactly true. The girl wasn't tidy — her short hair was roughly hacked. No care at all. On top of that — she radiated constant tension. Like she existed in that state permanently.
"Kami — what did they DO to you?!" The thought was an inward wail. Seeing someone — especially a young girl — in such a miserable state was almost physically painful. Awful. Disgusting. How do you drive a human being to THIS?! Some corpses look healthier!
Oh, kami-sama...
I can say this officially now: I despise the First Hokage. She's the one who started sealing Tailed Beasts into people. Hunted them down herself. Divided them among the Great Villages — to create "balance." Tch!
"To hell with that kind of balance!!!" I felt the anger surge. The Beasts should've been isolated. But no — these... these SHINOBI turned them into deterrents. And the demon-hosts? Treated like lepers at best. Disposable tools at worst. Death-row inmates. Jinchuriki — the very people who actually stopped the Chakra Beasts from rampaging — got the miserable fate of outcasts. Despised by the people they protected. And it's not even their choice — the demons are sealed into them when they're too young to understand. Hell — even the Fourth did it to her own daughter! And even if she had no other choice — that doesn't make the sin any smaller.
Revolting. Vile. Makes me sick. I've now got three examples right in front of me of how jinchuriki are treated. And I hate it. Every bit of it.
Inhale. Exhale. Getting my emotions under control wasn't easy. I thought I understood how jinchuriki were treated — but having Naruko nearby made it seem less grim. Looking at Gaara, though... it hit way too hard.
I gathered myself — tried not to look at the Sand jinchuriki with obvious pity. I really did feel sorry for her. Deeply. And that feeling quickly shoved everything else aside. Even the fact that — given the chance — she'd kill me without a shred of mercy or regret... didn't dim my sympathy. Because looking at her, I didn't see a bloodthirsty psychopathic jinchuriki. I saw a tormented girl. Abused her whole life. Doomed from birth to the miserable fate of being a tailed demon's vessel. It wasn't her fault she turned out this way. Here — she was nothing but a victim.
Meanwhile, Gaara kept staring. Not once blinking. Silently drilling holes into me — making her older relatives visibly nervous. Apparently this wasn't normal for her — so the older Sabaku had no idea what to do. The youngest had made it perfectly clear she didn't want interruptions. Yet she just kept staring. Silent!
The longer it went, the more awkward it got. Almost absurd. Still — some sixth sense told me: if I don't find a way to break this, our one-sided staring contest could go on for a very long time.
The idea came from nowhere. Almost an epiphany: brilliant in its simplicity — and at the same time, absurd to the point of naivety. But exactly the way out I needed. And more than that.
Under that prickly stare, I slipped a hand into one of my countless pockets — fingers sorting fast through small objects. Not that. Not this. Oops, a coin. Nope... Finally — the light roughness of fabric. Lucky I still had something left from the last batch! Gripping it, I mentally called on that part of my power I hadn't used fully in a long time. Sacred force streamed through me — comfortable warmth and pleasant coolness at the same time — shaping into a Blessing. Gods — how long since I've done this! Sure, my amulets are mass-produced, but they work. Genuine. Effective. I don't deal in junk. But full Blessings? Haven't used those in forever. Even though I can. I'm still a servant of Amaterasu-sama — I've got the authority. Just never had a pressing need for near-divine power. The scraps I use day-to-day were always enough. This, though... today's incident was the perfect reason to return to old practices.
"Gaara-chan, right? Here — my apology for bumping into you." I smiled, holding out a small talisman. Didn't matter that I was the one knocked back half a meter — and Gaara hadn't budged a centimeter.
Gaara slowly shifted her gaze from my face to my palm. The talisman looked simple, almost standard: a little red velvet pouch with a short drawstring. Inside — a small wooden tablet carved with auspicious symbols. The meaning was as broad as could be — "Well-Being." A wish for prosperity in the widest sense. But now — after a full blessing — it had gained real strength. And, through my efforts, a specific focus. I poured everything into this. All my feelings. All my desire to help this girl. Lighten her burden — even just a little. I hoped it was enough.
Gaara kept staring — shifting that prickly gaze between the talisman and me. Maybe it was my imagination. Wishful thinking. But I could've sworn the redhead looked slightly bewildered.
Finally — having decided something internally — Gaara stopped piercing me with her eyes. I heard a soft sandy rustle, and then a narrow tendril of sand wrapped around my palm — scraping roughly with coarse grains.
"You. Your name." The jinchuriki demanded it — warily accepting my gift into the "hands" of her sand.
"Kaoru. Nagisa Kaoru." I bowed politely. "Um... pleased to meet you?"
"..." Half-turned away now, the jinchuriki kept looking at me for another moment with that unreadable gaze — then turned completely and just walked off.
"H-hey — Gaara?!" The girl in black called, bewildered. "What was THAT just now?! Gaara!"
"We're leaving." Flat. Emotionless. Not even glancing back. "We wasted enough time."
"YOU'RE the one who wasted it..." The blond with the giant fan muttered, irritated. "Tch!... And you" — this aimed at me — "you can celebrate. Today's your second birthday."
"Kid got lucky," the girl muttered as they hurried after the jinchuriki. "Back home, she'd have ground him into paste already... Brr..."
"Kankuro!" The boy's voice was sharp with disapproval.
"But it's true, Temaru! Just remember the last—"
"Enough. Just — ENOUGH!.."
I watched the bickering siblings go, thoughtful.
Huh... So the Exam's already here? That was fast. I've completely lost track of time, apparently. Gotta do something — just not sure what, or how. They probably won't make me take part in that dubious event — but the seventh team's practically already in it.
Gotta prepare! And get the genin ready, too. At least Naruko — she's easiest. And besides... even if I can't really change much, I've still got a few ideas. But I've gotta start NOW! Dammit! Why's there always so little time and so damn much to do?!