Chapter 15: The Hidden Sand's Reaction
Sunagakure's "Gold Miner," father of three, and Fourth Kazekage, Rasa, was in his office handling his duties.
He couldn't understand why, after all his years of diligent, tireless work, Sunagakure was still struggling.
Wars between villages? He handled them.
Conflicts between villagers? He handled them.
Tasks from the Daimyo? He handled them.
He even had to go into the desert and use his own abilities to pan for gold, just to supplement Sunagakure's treasury.
He was like a tireless camel, crossing the desert with the full weight of the Hidden Sand on his back. And yet, when he looked back, the village was still the same.
The shinobi's gear pouches were still worn out. The children's training grounds were still just barren sand. The food storage was never full.
He raised a hand and rubbed his throbbing temples, suddenly feeling a wave of powerlessness.
He was clearly giving it his all. Why couldn't Sunagakure see any hope?
"Lord Rasa!"
One of Rasa's most trusted subordinates burst into the room unannounced.
Rasa frowned at the sight but said nothing.
The subordinate continued, "It's terrible! Your children... they're surrounded by a huge crowd of supporters!"
"My children? A large crowd of supporters?" Rasa said, unconcerned. "Temari, I assume. It's perfectly normal for a girl her age to have admirers."
"It's not Temari, it's your son."
"My son?" Rasa thought for a moment. "Kankuro, as the strongest puppeteer of his generation, that's not surprising either, is it? Is that any reason to cause such a commotion?"
"It's not Kankuro, my lord," the subordinate quickly denied.
"If it's not Kankuro, then who else is there?" Rasa pressed.
"Gaara."
Rasa shot up from his seat so violently that the scrolls on his desk scattered to the floor. He didn't even notice. His eyes, bloodshot from years of exhaustion, were filled with utter disbelief.
"What did you say?" His voice held a barely perceptible tremble, as if he had just heard a rumor that shattered his entire reality. "Gaara? How is that possible!"
The subordinate, startled by Rasa's reaction, still nodded, forcing himself to speak. "Y-Yes, my lord. At the village entrance square. So many villagers are gathered there, and a lot of young shinobi... They seem to be listening to Lord Gaara speak. The atmosphere is intense. Some are even shouting things like 'Please lead us!'"
"'Lead us'?" Rasa repeated the words, finding them absurd and laughable.
He thought of the son whose birth had stolen his wife's life. He thought of the hatred and loneliness he had personally inflicted on the boy to control the One-Tail Shukaku sealed within him. He thought of the looks of fear and disgust the villagers always gave Gaara.
How was this possible? That child, ostracized by the entire village, a child that even he, his father, kept at a distance... how could he suddenly have supporters?
"Are you that bored with your work?" Rasa's voice turned cold as he stared at his subordinate. "You're believing things like that? Perhaps a patrol on the border will cool your head."
He found it hard to believe that one of Suna's elite shinobi would fall for such a ridiculous rumor.
The subordinate's face flushed red, but he stood his ground. "My lord, it's true! I saw it with my own eyes! Gaara... he was saying something about protecting the village, and so many people were applauding!"
Rasa's brow twisted. The absurdity he felt was replaced by a strange agitation. Protecting the village? That child, bound by Shukaku's malice, feared by all... how could he say such a thing?
Rasa snatched his hat from the desk and stormed out of the office. The subordinate scrambled to follow.
As he moved through Sunagakure's winding, mismatched buildings, Rasa could see the crowd at the village square from a distance.
It was larger than he had imagined. Not just young shinobi, but even some of the older villagers. The expressions on their faces were not the usual fear, but an unbelievable... excitement. An anticipation.
And at the center of the crowd stood his son, Gaara.
The child who always kept his head down, whose eyes were always full of wariness and cold indifference... was now looking up, the usual gloom gone from his face.
The sun lit up his red hair, making it shine. His lips were moving, his voice not loud, but it carried clearly across the square.
"I used to think that no one in this village needed me, that no one would ever accept me. But I understand now. It's precisely because this is my home that I must protect it."
"Shukaku's power may be terrifying, but I will learn to control it. I will use this power to protect everyone... to protect this desert."
As his voice fell, a thunderous applause erupted. Someone shouted, "Lord Gaara! We believe in you!"
"Please lead us!"
The cries rose, one after another, merging into a wave of sound that shook Rasa to his core.
He stood at the edge of the crowd like a statue, feeling as if his blood had frozen.
He looked at his son, surrounded by the crowd. He looked at the very villagers who used to shun Gaara, their eyes now shining with passion. He felt as if the entire world had been turned upside down.
What is happening? Did I wake up in a different world?
What made it even more unbelievable was that some of Sunagakure's key shinobi were in the crowd, cheering him on—including his own second-in-command, Baki, and the two children he'd actually placed his hopes in, Temari and Kankuro.
The subordinate watched Rasa's face, whispering, "My lord, you see..."
Rasa ignored him, his gaze fixed on Gaara.
He suddenly remembered, all those years ago, the infant... lying quietly, his red hair identical to Rasa's own.
In that moment, he had felt a flicker of fatherly hope, but it had been quickly drowned by his duty to the village and the threat of Shukaku.
For Suna's sake, to control the beast, he had chosen the most extreme way to treat Gaara.
He believed it was the only way. He had never imagined that this child, whom he had abandoned, would find a path—a path Rasa had never even considered—all on his own.
The cheering in the square continued, but Rasa felt dizzy.
He had always believed he was the hardest-working man in Suna, the only camel carrying the village's burden.
But now, he realized... perhaps he had been walking in the wrong direction the entire time.
He put a hand on the wall beside him to steady himself, his fingers trembling.
Could it be that Suna's hope wasn't in his own back-breaking labor, but in the very child he had ignored and cast aside?
No. Impossible. He's a demon. A demon who killed his own mother at birth, Rasa thought, his heart hardening.
"Break up this assembly! Find people, and break it up!"