A Senseless Search For The Sun

When his eyes snapped open, Gaara found himself inside a pristine yet unfamiliar room, finding it surprising how the room was still intact despite him having fallen asleep until he remembered that he no longer harbored Shukaku.

All of a sudden, it was far too quiet.

After having gotten used to the constant chatter in his own mind, despite the words often being about murder than not, suddenly losing all of it left him feeling uncertain. Like a crucial part of him was torn away.

Yet, no matter how much he tried to summon up his rage, all that filled him now was despair upon knowing that the sun would never shine upon his desert again.

What was the point of such a meaningless existence where everything he finally had was once again taken from him and left him with nothing.

And this time, he was even more alone.

A nothing and a no one. Not even a monster anymore as anyone who ever saw him as one was not here to fear him.

It was despairing to be alone without any idea where to go or what to do next.

Should he just accept this situation, knowing that the other half of him was still in his previous world, enjoying his life accompanied by his sun while he was stuck here? Or should he find a chance to return?

If it were 'him', what would he do? Would he still be able to smile and face this challenge on with determination?

Of course, he would... But Gaara was not him.

So, what now? What should he do?

What 'could' he do?

At this moment, the door was suddenly pushed open, revealing a familiar old man with the gold eyed teenager.

Gaara immediately recognized them as the people who tried to stop him from undoing his revival.

"Ah, you're awake." The old man smiled gently, his expression akin to that of Kankuro when he speaks about his prized succulents. "You've been asleep for a whole day, child. I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to awaken."

Gaara stared at the old man with lifeless gold eyes in silence, opting to study them and figure out their intentions. "Who are you?"

"You-" Seeming to be enraged from his disrespect of the old man, the teenager tensed and was about to do something when the old man interfered and held him back.

"Ah, forgive me, it was impolite of us to not introduce ourselves during our first meeting." The old man smiled in reassurance, speaking to Gaara as though he was an adult instead of a child despite his current appearance. "My name is Arima Kenji, and this young man is my adopted son, Chisaki Kai."

"I see..." Gaara nodded, his expression unreadable. "I'm... Gaara."

Just Gaara. Everything else is already meaningless.

...

When Arima and Chisaki entered the boy's makeshift room within the Shie Hassaikai compound, they found it hard to pretend not knowing him after spending the night watching snippets of his life, from before he was born to the day he died.

They came to realize that the place he was from wasn't even in the same world as theirs as well as all the hardships he faced all throughout his life.

After they both woke up in their own rooms, they were relieved to find that the subordinate who remained awake managed fulfill his duties and took them back to their compound without alerting the heroes and the police.

The private doctor was then notified of their awakening and spoke to them about their conditions. Fortunately, there was no detrimental effect which the sudden bout of unconsciousness brought to them aside for the extra memories but, it was a different case for the boy who, they were informed, their subordinate had no choice but to take with them due to the chain being connected to their bodies until early that morning.

From what the subordinate had told the doctor, what happened with the boy was what seemed to be a quirk awakening gone wrong but, when the doctor took a sample of the boy's blood along with an x-ray of his foot, the boy showed no sign of a quirk.

"To be honest, he absolutely has no sign of a meta factor at all so, it shouldn't be possible for him to ever have a quirk." The doctor told them as he mused to himself.

And with Chisaki and Arima possessing certain knowledge about the boy, they knew full well that what he had was in fact, not a quirk at all. Hence, Arima took it upon himself to make sure the doctor kept silent about the whole ordeal.

Since, who knew what kind of craziness some people would get up to upon knowing that a power which was not a quirk existed.

And, now, they were stuck with a troubled teen inside a child's body, without any idea of what to do with him.

Well, they'll just have to take it one step at a time.

Starting from forging a new identity. And breakfast.

Yeah, maybe breakfast should come first.

And perhaps they would be able to earn the boy's trust, enough for him to be able to tell them his story on his own. But, until then, they'd pretend to not know anything.

...

Gaara stared blankly at his meal which consisted of a slice of grilled salmon, a bowl of rice, and a bowl of miso soup.

His sand came from his connection to Shukaku, not from his mother's love.

That was what Yashamaru told him as he died.

But, he remembered controlling his sand before he fell unconscious, it's connection with him even stronger than before despite losing Shukaku.

So, was it a lie after all?

Was it actually from his mother and not a byproduct of Shukaku?

With that thought filling his head, he was unable to resist the twitch of his finger, the unsatable hunger to prove a point to himself.

Was he, at some point, even for the briefest of moments, a loved child after all?

Trying to sate that desperation, he called upon his sand with familiarity which caused a trickle of white grains to emerge from his skin and onto the sheets of the bed, along with some strangely shaped larger pieces mixed in.

It was white. Not the familiar golden brown that he was used to.

It was was course and brittle, and slipped through his fingers like sand. But it was not his sand.

And, when a particularly large piece with a concave shape emerged, the light of hope which appeared briefly in his eyes slowly flickered out.

His hands started shaking as he began to laugh in dispair. And even the deformed skull on his lap seemed to stare at him with hollowed eye sockets in mockery.

It was not his sand after all. It was bones, all crushed and powdered, grounded into a mound which mimicked his sand.

"Why?..." He said through gritted teeth as tears escaped his eyes uncontrollably. "There is no point..."

On the other side of the door, Arima stood quietly with a tiny cactus in a pot, and sighed to himself sadly.

...

That night, Chisaki Kai laid awake on his bed, thinking about a vastly different world where a similar power to quirks existed but had a different origin; where, instead of heroes, shinobi and samurais existed to keep the peace.

It made him wonder, if a different system managed to exist in that world for much longer than the history of quirks in this world, was it possible that he had been viewing quirks incorrectly before? Was it possible that quirks in this world were what chakra was in that world?

Unable to contain his thoughts, Chisaki grabbed his phone and began typing on his search bar.

Unknown to him, his entire future changed in just a single night with the addition of just one person in cogs.