Chapter Three

-Matsuri POV-

Temari chased after Tenten when she suddenly dashed into the thick brush to put some distance between us. This left me alone with Gaara, something he and I didn't want. I couldn't count on my fingers the number of times I've reached out and offered a kind hand to the boy, but the same goes for the amount of times my approach has just pissed him off.

When it comes down to it, I honestly want to be his friend. He knows my intentions are pure because we've spent countless hours in one another's heads.

During our first M.A.T. session, I realized he was unbearably terrified of everyone he's ever met. The crippling fear mentally froze me, but his reaction was to lash out in anger to protect himself and keep everyone else at bay. After that first session, I'd nervously asked him if he was alright, and he threatened to kill me with his bare hands if I didn't mind my own business and keep my mouth shut.

Then, when our training intensified, I was finally shown why he was the way he was.

His mother died giving birth to him, and his father abused him physically and mentally for his entire childhood. That small, helpless child was blamed for something out of his control. That fact alone made me want to somehow help him. None of his family members, not even his siblings, lifted a finger to protect him.

When he was thirteen, his dad came home drunk and attacked him with a broken beer bottle, and Gaara accidentally killed the man trying to defend himself. Since his body and mental health showed proof of the continuous abuse he'd suffered, he wasn't punished. It didn't matter either way because the damage had already been done.

His brother Kankuro was seventeen then and became emancipated so his younger siblings wouldn't have to go into the foster system. He and Temari never directly apologized to their younger brother for pretty much allowing him to be hurt for over ten years. Still, their relationships healed enough that they could at least live together.

I'm not sure what glimpses of my past he saw, and he didn't offer any hints by acting differently, which only added to my anxiety. It's not like I have a crazy traumatic background or anything. There are only a few bad things that I can recall having happened in my life so far. My dad died in a car accident with me in the backseat when I was around nine or ten. Other than that, when my mom finally got back out there a couple years later and got a boyfriend, he became violent toward both of us.

That's why I signed up for The Program. I want to use the prize money so my mom and I can escape him. He's only hit either of us a handful of times, but it was pretty rough when he did, so she and I walked on eggshells to prevent setting him off. It's been maybe a year since the last time I'd been hit, but that's because I rarely went home after school, so I wouldn't have to see them.

A fist nearly collided with my face, tearing me from my thoughts, and I barely managed to duck out of the way and shoot a few feet back. There wasn't a point in wasting energy trying to land hits on him because he wouldn't feel them anyway. Instead, I focused on letting him wear himself out.

Hateful teal eyes bore into mine as he continuously attacked, and I kept dodging. Gaara knew what I was doing, and it was only pissing him off further.

After realizing he'd lost the ability to feel pain, I focused my training on speed so I'd be able to dodge more easily. Not only did I anticipate having to fight him at some point, but it wasn't a bad idea anyway because I'm so much smaller than everyone else, and it was harder for me to gain much muscle.

Call it playing to one's weaknesses.

I held back the urge to smile proudly as our tragic little dance continued. It was easier than I thought it'd be to predict Gaara's movements. Maybe being mentally linked so often had actually offered some benefits.

Just as I finished that thought, he abruptly changed his direction and caught me off-guard. His fingertips brushed against my stomach as I somehow managed to jump away, but my foot got caught on an uproot, and I fell backward. My arms instinctively flailed out, but I wasn't quick enough to catch myself, and the back of my head smacked roughly against the ground.

A cry of pain left my lips, and my hands pressed against the wound as I saw stars and rolled onto my side. A blazing heat was thumping from the point of impact, and it took several long moments for my vision to clear.

When it did, I realized Gaara was crouched at my side, staring at my face with his usual glare. I let out a surprised yelp and tried to shoot away, but a wave of dizziness rolled over me, and one of my hands had to shoot down to keep myself from falling again.

"Get up."

I met his gaze in disbelief, but he ignored it and pulled me roughly upright by my arm. My brow furrowed when another wave of dizziness came through me, but I didn't have time to dwell on it because he was attacking me again. It didn't take long for him to land a hit, and when he did, it was to my stomach.

I thought I'd fall to the ground, but he surprisingly gripped a fistful of my shirt and pulled me closer by my chest. His voice would've been terrifying if I wasn't so used to hearing it in my head, "You're weak. Pathetic."

A familiar feeling rose from the pit of my stomach into my throat, and I shoved against him, "I'm…! I think I'm gonna be sick!"

Gaara's eyes widened, and he let me stumble over to the tree's edge so I could empty the contents of my stomach. A cold sweat dusted my skin once I was done, and I shakily wiped the back of my hand over my mouth with a red face. My dizziness was gone, but the cost was my dignity and breakfast.

"Are you done? Let's go."

I turned to give him an incredulous look. After three months of holding my tongue because I felt sorry for him, his lack of empathy when I was humiliated threw me right over the edge.

"Are you serious? Do you expect me to be eager to fight you? Give me a minute to get it together. You don't like it when people treat you like this; I know that for a fact, so stop doing it to me!" I ran a shaky hand through my hair before wiping my hands on my lap and getting back to my feet so I could face him.

Gaara's glare hardened further at my sharp response, and I immediately regretted letting my temper get away from me. He'll probably kill me now, whereas before, he might've considered allowing me to live. It was too late to go back. Regardless of my undoubtedly signed death certificate, I met his eye firmly. My patience with his unwillingness to give me a chance finally ran out.

"I'm sick and tired of you treating me like this! I haven't done anything wrong, so why won't you be my friend?"

The redhead lunged forward, and we started our dance once more. Hit after hit missed, and I could feel his irritation grow with each one, but so did mine. A dangerous aura was steadily forming around us, and minutes later, it finally exploded when he tackled me to the ground. The breath was knocked out of me when we landed, but I met his glare with my own.

Surprisingly, Gaara didn't immediately start pummeling me as I expected. Instead, we glared angrily at one another and panted for breath. Soon, his eyes danced shakily over my face, and he began slightly trembling before stunning me completely by losing his composure, yelling, "Why haven't you given up!?"

My expression fell into one of bewilderment, but he ignored it.

Gaara punched the ground to the side of my head, making me flinch, "I-I don't understand! You're relentless!"

A heat rose to my face when I realized his enraged expression had fallen into one of almost comical irritation. The look was one I'd never seen on his features.

"Why are you staring at me like that? This is exactly what I'm talking about! I know I scare you, but you don't avoid me like everyone else. What's wrong with you?"

A breathless laugh of disbelief passed my lips, and I unconsciously gripped the front of his shirt into my fists with a relieved smile. This outburst might solely consist of confused and angry emotions, but it's still something new. It told me that, somewhere behind his impenetrable defense, there's still a personality. Gaara, the real Gaara, isn't gone yet. I was so worried he'd let himself be defeated by his trauma, especially since it's taken so long to get any reaction from him.

The redhead tried to pry my fingers off his shirt with one hand while holding himself up with the other, "Let go of me right now!" His tone was borderline frantic and wavered with fear.

I obliged, not wanting to force any physical contact he didn't welcome.

His fingers spread, and he held his palm up slightly, looking at my hands and back up to my face as though he hadn't expected me to heed his request and was concerned I'd touch him again.

Gaara repeated his earlier question, his voice still shaking with emotion, "What's wrong with you?"

The satisfaction was nearly euphoric. He'd spoken more words to me in the past five minutes than over the past three months. I grinned, "You finally talked to me…."

Gaara's mouth clamped shut, and he climbed off me as though my not responding negatively to his overbearingly negative emotions was scarier than if I had.

One of my hands held my still-throbbing head as I sat up. I turned to respond, only to trail off upon seeing him walking toward the jungle in the direction his sister and Tenten had gone, "Gaara, are you-"

Worried he'd join Temari in attacking my friend, I stumbled and hurried after him as my head spun, "Wait! Where are you going?" He didn't respond and kept moving, so I silently followed him, struggling to keep up with his pace since I was much shorter.

After a few minutes, the lights went out, and a loud explosion was heard in the distance. I crouched low to the ground on instinct but got back up when I heard Gaara start traveling in the direction of the sound's source and began following him again. If he noticed or cared, he didn't say anything.

We got close enough to the explosion that we could see heavy smoke rising toward the ceiling from the flames when, suddenly, I was shoved into his back, and both of us toppled forward to the ground.

An angry growl rumbled through him, and I tried to climb off his back, only to feel large hands roughly grab my wrists and pull my arms behind my back. A shocked gasp left my lips, and I struggled to kick whoever was attacking me, "What the…Let me go!"

Cold metal clasped around my wrists, and my eyes widened. Are these…handcuffs? I was pulled to my knees, one on either side of Gaara's body. The young man in question climbed out from under me to investigate the situation. My neck ached as I also tried to see who was trying to take me prisoner, but the slightest movement came from behind him, and I shouted, "Behind you!"

Wide teal eyes shot over in time to see two darkly dressed people approaching him. In the incredibly dim lighting, I caught a glimpse of their outfits and realized the back of their bulletproof vests said ANBU. That branch of Konoha's military is only used for incredibly hazardous missions, so why would they be here?

Gaara was quickly taken down and cuffed, like me, and then we were led through a clearing and out a side exit these soldiers had blown into the wall.

My eyes widened when I searched the clearing area as we passed it. Suigetsu's body was on fire, but he wasn't moving. A sickening sound ripped from my chest as I stared in disbelief, struggling against my captor's hold in an attempt to go to the poor man. Was he killed and then set aflame, or had he burnt until his body couldn't handle it anymore? Whatever the case, it was a tragedy.

Gaara followed my gaze with a blank expression, only to face forward again once he knew what I was reacting to.

We were soon outdoors, and my eyes took a long time to adjust, but when they did, I saw a group of medics loading someone on a stretcher into a helicopter not far away. I tugged at my cuffs and spoke panicked at the person firmly pushing me forward, "Who is that? Are they okay?" They shoved me along with a bit more force but didn't respond in any other way.

Gaara and I were shoved into an armored truck and strapped to our seats. Since I knew fighting would be useless, I didn't bother wasting my energy on it, but he sure did, and the soldiers didn't appreciate it. He was given a shot of what I assumed was a sedative because he quickly settled down, and his pupils dilated.

Temari, Tenten, and Kiba were in the truck, too, but I was also surprised to see Deidara, Sasori, and Kankuro. Once the door shut, the vehicle began moving.

"Did you guys see Hinata? Is she okay?" Kiba asked in a concerned voice.

We all shook our heads, but I was worried about his demeanor, "Why? What happened?"

Tears rose in the boy's eyes, and he frowned, "I don't know, but she wasn't moving, and there was a lot of blood."

I recalled what I'd seen just minutes ago.

"They were loading someone onto a helicopter. Maybe that was her," I tried to sound hopeful for the Inuzuka man and myself, but then I remembered what else I'd seen.

My chest tightened and ached so hard that I had to shut my eyes to keep myself from sobbing, "Suigetsu…he's dead. I saw his body in the fire." Everyone but Gaara looked at me in disbelief, but I couldn't meet anyone's eye, or else I'd lose my composure.

"There was a fire? What were you guys-"

Deidara's question was cut off as the soldier watching us hit his temple with the butt of his gun, "I've had enough of your talking. Shut the hell up, all of you."

The blonde man winced with an angry glare at the man, but he didn't argue. A small trail of blood ran down the side of his face from the wound.

Multiple hours passed in a tense silence before the truck finally came to a stop. We were led out of the truck in shackles one by one, and my heart sank when I saw where we were. It was a mental hospital.

An asylum.