Suna no Hoshi [Naruto Fanfic]

Orenji Suna

Rasa groaned as he woke up, blinking wearily into consciousness. He could feel a small weight on his lap and blearily looked down and saw his small son clutching onto him, quiet and still but at least awake. Somewhere during his sleep, he’d managed to wrap his arms around Gaara, and now they were still embracing the boy. Hesitating, he sighed inwardly and allowed himself this moment with his son and tightened his hold, letting himself just sit there with his son in his arms for the moment.

Then he abruptly stood up, though he wasn’t callous enough to let Gaara drop to the floor (subtly gently putting him down), and walked away to the middle of the room, leaving his back to his kid. He took a shuddering breath and then turned stoically back to Gaara, straightening up.

“We’re not leaving here,” Rasa said harshly, glaring. “Until you can have enough control over your sand, we’re staying in this room.”

Gaara looked at his dad in confusion, shifting awkwardly along with his sand.

“Your training begins now.”

Even if he had to be harsh, then he’ll play the bad guy in order for Gaara to win over Shukaku and the Council. His son may hate him, but the demon will not win and neither will he let the Council condemn his son when he already had to from his son’s premature birth.

“You’ll hate me, but at least you’ll win,” Rasa stated coldly.

And then he called up a large amount of Gold Dust and started sending it after his youngest. From then on, Rasa forced himself to go into the mindset of Kazekage and ignore whatever failed instincts he had as a father.

Still, it is not easy and possible to completely disregard those instincts and close his eyes to his son’s pain and his own misgivings.

But he would not let the Council take his son from him completely, when they had already forced his hand against Gaara since his birth and had taken apart his family from the moment he’d gained them in the first place.

He may fail as a father, but he will not fail them.

It had been going on for days. The resources he’d stuffed into a bag were all that he’d brought along to keep them going. The first day, after a rigorous start, Nagi had allowed a break and gave his son some of the food he’d carelessly tossed into the bag.

“Aren’t you going to eat, Otou-san?” the little red-haired boy tentatively asked his father.

“No,” Rasa answered shortly. “Just finish your food so we can go back to begin training.”

By the third day, Gaara had finally noticed it. His father hadn’t eaten at all since throwing the both of them in there and training like hell.

“Otou-san, you haven’t eaten…”

Rasa looked at his son blankly. “And I’m not going to.”

Gaara didn’t understand and was starting to worry even more. His father’s form was starting to slump, and his eyes looked dilated. Gold Dust hovered around him lethargically, but Sabaku no Rasa continued to stand and face his son with an unwavering stare.

“Again, Gaara.”

“Otou-san, you need to eat,” Gaara blinked back tears.

Rasa frowned. “I’m not eating. I won’t eat. Not until you finally have control over your sand,” he finally revealed his reason.

Gaara stared horrified at his father. “But you’ll die! You’ve already gotten so sick! Otou-san –”

“I’m not going to eat, Gaara. If you really want me to live, then hurry up and get control of your sand. Because I’m not going to until you do,” his father’s voice was hoarse by then.