You didn't know what it was about the mysterious red-haired boy, but he intrigued you. There was something haunting in his presence—like a shadow that had wandered too far from its source. As he turned to leave, the sand at his feet shifting restlessly, a sudden urgency struck you.

"Wait!" you called out, taking a hesitant step forward.

He paused, but didn't turn around.

"What's your name?" you asked.

For a moment, there was only silence. The wind whispered through the flower field, rustling the petals that had survived his sand's earlier destruction. You almost thought he wasn't going to answer until his voice, quiet and strangely hollow, drifted through the air.

"Gaara."

Just one word, yet it carried weight—like it was a name forged in loneliness.

You took another step toward him, glancing down at the crushed flowers still lying between you. "Gaara... Well, I'm (Y/n)." You hesitated before adding, "It's nice to meet you."

He finally turned his head slightly, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sharp green eyes. They flickered with something unreadable—confusion, perhaps, or disbelief.

"Why?" he asked.

Your brows furrowed. "Why what?"

"Why do you care?" His tone was unreadable, but there was an edge to it—like he was waiting for something, an expectation you didn't yet understand.

You tilted your head, genuinely puzzled by the question. "Because... I just do? I mean, I care about my flowers, so why wouldn't I care about the person standing in them?"

His eyes flickered down to the ruined blossoms again, and something in his posture stiffened. For the first time, he seemed unsure.

"You're not afraid of me?"

The way he said it—soft, yet laced with something sharp—made you realize that this was a question he already knew the answer to. A question he had asked many times before, only to receive the same response over and over.

But you weren't like the others.

"Should I be?" you asked simply.

Gaara's gaze snapped to yours, something shifting in his expression, but he said nothing. The wind picked up slightly, ruffling his hair and making the gourd on his back tilt slightly.

"People usually are," he finally said, his voice quieter now.

You crossed your arms. "Well, I'm not 'people.'"

Gaara blinked at you, and for the first time, he seemed completely lost for words. His sand twitched slightly at his feet, shifting in small ripples as if mirroring the uncertainty he refused to show on his face.

A beat passed between you. Then another.

You sighed, deciding to break the silence. "Are you from Konoha?"

Gaara's shoulders stiffened ever so slightly. "No."

"Then where?"

"The Sand Village," he answered after a pause. "Sunagakure."

You tilted your head. "That's far. What are you doing all the way out here?"

His expression darkened slightly, though not at you. "The Chunin Exams," he said simply.

Your eyes widened slightly. You had heard of the exams—a brutal test where young shinobi from different villages competed against each other to prove their strength. It was famous for weeding out the weak, and from the way Gaara carried himself, you could tell he was far from weak.

"You're here to fight, then," you murmured, more to yourself than him.

Gaara didn't answer.

A strange feeling settled in your chest. You didn't know much about him, but something told you that his battles weren't just against opponents in an arena. There was something deeper, something raw and painful that clung to him like his own shadow.

"You know," you said after a moment, "flowers don't survive in the desert."

Gaara's brow furrowed slightly at your sudden statement, but you continued.

"They need water, shade, care. But sometimes, even if you plant them somewhere impossible, they still find a way to grow." You smiled faintly. "I think people are like that too."

Gaara didn't move, but his sand stilled completely. He looked at you—really looked at you—like he was trying to figure out why you would say something like that.

Something unreadable passed over his face. Then, almost too quietly to hear, he spoke.

"I don't believe in things like that."

Your heart clenched slightly at his words, but you didn't let your expression falter. "Maybe you just haven't seen it yet."

He held your gaze for a long time. The silence between you was heavy, but not uncomfortable.

Then, without another word, Gaara turned and walked away, his sand swirling around him like an unseen force shielding him from the world.

You watched until he disappeared from view, the weight of the encounter lingering in your chest.

You had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time you saw him.

And somehow, you knew—Gaara wasn't just another passing face in Konoha.

He was something more.

Something important.

A/n - Next Chapter coming out later today!

(840 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘋𝘚)