Chapter Text
Four years ago, Hiruzen had acted quietly, pressured by necessity. With Root circling the newly orphaned Naruto like vultures, Danzo's interference was inevitable.
Suna had its darkness, but one man stood apart—Yashamaru, the war medic who'd once saved Hiruzen's life and walked away from violence. If Naruto were to have any peace, it would be far from Konoha's shadows, under Yashamaru's care.
So when Hiruzen offered the nine-tailed jinchuriki as a gesture of peace, with the only condition being that Yashamaru serve as Naruto’s primary caretaker and that the boy be housed under the Kazekage Rasa’s roof for protection, Rasa, eyes glittering with ambition, couldn’t bring himself to refuse. Although Hiruzen strongly recommended against revealing the infant's true nature, the Kazekage had all but flaunted Suna's newfound power after Hiruzen departed.
How very thrilled he was when, merely three months later, he came across the opportunity to turn his very own son into a second jinchuriki for Suna’s.. protection.
Now, four years later, Naruto trudged alone, shoulders slumped against the desert heat. He was both hated and feared in equal measure—just a jinchuriki, nothing more. There was no one to protect him except Rasa, but the protection Naruto received from the old man was minimal at best. Thankfully, he and Gaara always had Yashamaru, who was assigned as the live-in nanny for the boys.
As the other children passed by, they gave him fearful looks, whispering insults under their breath, but making sure to stay far away.
Naruto clenched his fists. He’d grown used to this, never knowing anything different. But it didn’t make it easier. He would survive, though. He had to. He gave a tiny sad little sigh, loneliness chilling his bones—until a small voice cut through his thoughts.
"Nii-san."
Gaara stood behind him, teddy bear in one hand, sucking the thumb of his other. His emerald-green eyes held their usual warmth, rimmed by thick black raccoon-like rings, while Naruto had fox-like whisker marks on his cheeks.
No words were needed. Gaara was just there, as always, when it mattered. Naruto opened his arms and Gaara fell in, still sucking his thumb. "Thanks, Ototo," Naruto replied, smiling softly.
Gaara didn’t respond, but his small nod spoke volumes.
As he wrapped Gaara in his tiny arms, Naruto's gaze was on the sunset. It was getting later now, so Naruto grabbed his hand. “C’mon, I’m starving!”
Gaara let himself be pulled along, keeping quiet as they entered the home. Rasa barely noticed them, and so Naruto squeezed Gaara’s hand. "Don't care what he thinks. I'm here!"
Gaara hesitated, staring at their joined hands. His small fingers tightened just a little as he mumbled, “You won’t go away?”
Naruto grinned, giving his hand a reassuring swing. "Nuh-uh! I'm staying forever an' ever!" Naruto playfully ruffled Gaara’s hair. “Let's eat!"
In the kitchen, Naruto devoured his meal eagerly, while Gaara barely touched his. Rasa watched both without expression. Tiny but already mature Temari, Gaara's 7-year-old sister, completely ignored the usual tension during mealtimes, eating like a normal kid, while Gaara's older brother Kankuro, merely a year older than the boys, watched Naruto eat.
"Didn't realize you were that hungry, Naru!" Kankuro exclaimed.
Naruto barely spared him a glance, too busy shoveling food in his mouth. "Uh-huh! Aren't you, Kanky-niichan?!" he asked between bites.
Finally, Rasa spoke. “Gaara. Naruto.” His voice was cold, firm. “Eat properly.”
Naruto swallowed a huge bite and grinned. "This is how I eat! See?"
Gaara set down his chopsticks. "...I'm eating," he murmured, eyes flicking to their father.
The Kazekage nodded. "Finish your meal."
Naruto nudged Gaara, translating, “He means you eat more!" Gaara just nodded. Naruto always understood Father better.
That night, Gaara clutched his teddy bear while Naruto slept sprawled beside him. When nightmares came, he woke, shaking. "Nii-san?" he clung to Naruto, shaking him awake.
Naruto mumbled, half-asleep. Gaara curled tighter around his bear. Without a word, Naruto pulled him close. "Bad dream again, Ototo?"
Gaara gave a small nod.
Naruto squeezed him a little tighter, warm and steady. "S'okay. I got you."
Gaara hesitated, then whispered, “…Promise?”
Naruto buried his face in Gaara’s hair, already half-asleep again. "Promise."
Gaara closed his eyes. With Naruto’s warmth beside him, the nightmares didn’t seem so scary anymore.
The next day, there was another sandstorm. Those were common, but scared Gaara nonetheless, as the wind howled and the walls rattled like they might fall in. When these happened nowadays, Gaara didn’t clutch his bear the way he used to.
Not when Naruto would crawl under the blanket beside him, fidgety, his toes always unnaturally warm and cozy. Gaara would bury his face against Naruto’s side and let his breathing sync to Naruto’s instead of the storm.
The bear still had a place on Gaara’s bed, of course. One day, Naruto held it up by the paw and declared it needed a better name.
“Not Teddy,” he said, nose scrunching. “It needs a ninja name. Like… like Captain Deathclaw!”
Gaara blinked at him in horror. “He’s soft.”
“Captain Softclaw?”
“That’s more bad.”
They settled, finally, on “Mochi-bear,” because Naruto said it was round and squishy like the snack, and Gaara held it to his chest with quiet, solemn approval.
When villagers spat cruel words aimed at them—monsters, weapons, mistakes—Gaara didn’t talk to Mochi-bear much anymore. He mumbled into Naruto’s shirt instead, words half-lost in the fabric, and Naruto always heard every muffled sentence. They no longer cried where anyone could see, instead waiting until they were back home, under the table with stolen snacks, muttering to each other in small, serious voices.
Still, on the nights when Gaara panicked and couldn’t breathe, it was Naruto he reached for. It was Naruto’s hand he grabbed in the dark. Mochi-bear sat by the pillow, watching, twinkle in its eye.
Later that year, Gaara accidentally left Mochi-bear behind when they rushed out for training. Gaara noticed halfway there—his breath hitched, fingers twitching like he could summon it back through sheer will. Panic prickled beneath his skin, the old kind, sharp and suffocating.
But nothing happened.
The sky didn’t fall. The sand didn’t rise. No one screamed. Naruto was still there, grinning through a mouthful of candy, knees caked in mud.
He caught Gaara’s distraught look and instantly knew what it was. “You don’t need it. You’ve already got me!”
Gaara didn’t speak. He only nodded, small and serious.
That day, Mochi-bear stayed on the shelf. Still there. Still loved.
But no longer essential.
The setting sun painted the village in orange and pink. Five-year-old Naruto and Gaara walked with their hands in Yashamaru’s.
"What would you boys like to eat?" Yashamaru asked, kneeling.
"SWEETS!" Naruto bounced. "Mochi! Dango! Everything!"
"Salted tongue and gizzard," Gaara added helpfully.
Naruto stuck out his tongue. "Eww! Why would you eat that when you can have yummy treats?"
Yashamaru chuckled. "Naruto, everyone likes different things. Great choice, Gaara."
Gaara smiled shyly.
At the eatery, Naruto devoured sweets messily while Gaara took careful bites. Yashamaru tended to both—wiping sticky faces, refilling drinks, and listening to Naruto's stories. Gaara's smiles grew more frequent as the night went on. Every time Naruto got him to laugh, Naruto grew even more animated and excited.
Later, a sugar-charged Naruto bounced while Gaara sleepily rested his head against Yashamaru. "Thank you for the food," Gaara yawned, sleepy now due to the larger-than-usual meal.
"Yeah! Thanks, Yasha-ojisan! Let's do it again tomorrow!" Naruto cheered, clinging to Yashamaru’s pant legs.
Yashamaru hugged them. "Of course. You're both special to me, so I want to make sure you’re fed properly so you can get big and strong. But Naruto, tomorrow you will eat a proper meal first, dessert second.”
At Naruto’s pout, Yashamaru ruffled his hair. “But now, let’s head back. Your father will be wondering where you both are.” Rasa, of course, hadn’t even noticed the boys were missing.
Under the desert stars, they walked home—Naruto still excitedly chattering, Gaara nodding along, entranced, and Yashamaru smiling at the two boys he was raising. “When we get back, it’s straight in the tub for you two.”
“Yay!” Naruto yelled, jumping up and down. Baths were his favorite thing in the whole world, after eating sweets!
Once inside, Naruto skidded around the corner, sockless and grinning. “I call the big sponge!”
Gaara trailed behind, quieter, but his eyes lit up when Yashamaru ruffled his hair on the way past. “Don't splash,” he said automatically, not that either boy ever listened.
By the time Yashamaru reached the bathroom, they were already climbing into the tub. The tub was large, perfect for two growing boys. Naruto splashed lazily, ducking under the water while Gaara sat still, letting Naruto’s feet bump against his knees.
Naruto continued chattering as he tossed a rubber duck toward Gaara, who caught it with surprising reflexes.
“You’re getting better,” Naruto said, impressed. “You’ll be a great ninja one day.”
Gaara didn’t answer, but his cheeks pinked, and his baby omega scent curled faintly in the steam. Naruto blinked, nose wrinkling, and splashed water at him.
“Ototo, you smell funny today,” the blonde mumbled, nose scrunching as he scooted closer, curious.
Gaara blinked at him. “Funny?”
“Not bad. Jus' nice. Like warm sand after the rain. And vanilla. It’s.. weird.”
Gaara tilted his head. “You always smell like.. citrus and cotton.”
Naruto blinked, caught off-guard, then grinned wide, missing tooth and all. “Yeah? That’s ‘cause I’m super fresh,” he declared, puffing out his tiny chest. “Like laundry but awesome.”
Gaara didn’t respond but leaned in anyway. Naruto didn’t see Gaara faintly blushing as his ear was playfully nipped.
Water splashed out of the tub as Naruto wriggled behind Gaara, soapy cloth in hand. "Stay still!" he demanded, determinedly gripping a fistful of sudsy red hair as Gaara continued splashing with the rubber duck.
Naruto scrubbed intensely but gently, making sure to not hurt his little ototo. “You don’t gotta do this stuff alone,” he huffed, foamy bubbles flying everywhere. “I’ll take care of you!”
Gaara said nothing, but the way he relaxed, just a little, under Naruto’s fierce little hands said everything.
Yashamaru chuckled from the doorframe. “Don’t soak the floor,” he warned, rolling up his sleeves. He stepped in only to thoroughly rinse their hair, making sure all the soap was out, gentle even when Naruto squirmed and yelped about soap in his eyes.
Afterward, he wrapped each in a fluffy towel, sitting them down side-by-side to dry their hair with small circular motions.
“Gaara said I smell like citrus and cotton!” Naruto informed Yashamaru, halfway into his nightshirt.
“I don’t know about that, but you certainly smell like trouble,” he teased.
Naruto grinned. “That’s only ‘cause I’m training to be awesome.”
Gaara leaned into the towel, drying the rest of his hair. Yashamaru glanced down at him fondly, helping him into his PJs. “You two are growing too fast,” he murmured.
After they were dressed, Naruto grabbed Gaara’s hand, tugging him toward their bedroom as Yashamaru nodded approvingly. “That’s right, Naruto. It’s time for bed,” he said, following the pair.
Naruto dove under the covers first, patting the spot next to him for Gaara. Yashamaru gently pulled the blankets up over the two little boys nestled together. Naruto, always buzzing with energy, had finally settled—but not without mischief first.
"Naruto, s-stop that…" Gaara whispered, face warming as the blond nipped his ear before snuggling into his neck.
Naruto just giggled, half-asleep, squeezing Gaara’s hand. "M’sorry," he mumbled, clearly not sorry. "You’re just warm. An’ nice."
Gaara blinked, his heart doing a funny little skip.
Gaara didn't understand why his body was heating up, or what the fluttering in his belly meant whenever his nii-san clung close. "O-oh.." was all he could say.
As Yashamaru warmly observed them, his trained medical nin eye noted the way their chakra resonated, how effortlessly they fit together. Fated Mates. Rare, undeniable.
He stroked Naruto’s messy hair, then smoothed Gaara’s down, kissing their foreheads. "Sleep well," he whispered.
As Naruto dozed, still wrapped around Gaara, Yashamaru’s chest tightened. The road ahead was unclear, but these outcasted children were worth guarding with his life.
Under the scorching sun, six-year-old Naruto and Gaara sat by a weathered wall, shaping sand into castles. Around them, the other children played. Despite the bullying, here, in their quiet corner, they had each other. Naruto chattered excitedly, while Gaara listened, smiling his usual tiny smiles.
A group of older kids walked up. A scarred boy kicked their sandcastle, spraying sand at Naruto.
"Monsters playing house," he mocked. "Raccoon and fox demons—which one snaps first?"
Naruto shot up, fists ready. “Leave us alone!”
Gaara stood slowly, expression darkening. Sand stirred around him, but the scarred boy pushed Naruto down before he could move.
"Freaks!" the boy spat. "Nobody wants you here! Just disappear!"
Naruto scrambled up, eyes burning. "Shut up! We're not freaks!"
The others laughed, tossing rocks at them. Right before a large, pointy stone collided with Naruto’s head, the sand around Gaara moved instinctively, deflecting it. This action only fueled the bullies’ anger.
“See? He’s a monster! And you’re no better, Naruto! You’ve got that thing inside you too!”
Naruto's anger faltered. "What... what do you mean?"
The boy grinned cruelly. "You didn't know? You've got the fox demon inside you, just like Gaara's monster. Haven’t you ever wondered why everyone’s always hated you, too?”
Naruto's small hands shook as he stared, mind racing. A fox demon? Inside him? No, that couldn’t be true, could it?
But with a sinking feeling, Naruto realized it made perfect sense. He, along with Gaara, carried beasts inside them, ones so feared and hated that it caused the village to turn on them both. So be it.
Taking Gaara’s sandy hand in his, he muttered, “Then we can be hated together.”
That evening, as Yashamaru prepared them for bed, Naruto, never one to tiptoe around hard topics, suddenly asked, “Are me and Gaara demons?”
Yashamaru paused, then smiled gently. "No, you’re not demons. You’re just children with special spirits inside you."
Naruto frowned. "But people hate us."
Yashamaru pulled him close. "Some fear what they don’t understand. But you have nothing to prove to anyone. Just be unapologetically yourselves."
Naruto blinked, then mumbled, “Yeah, well, Gaara and I are really good at that.”
Then, quieter, head sinking into his pillow, “Thanks, Yasha-ojisan.”
The training ground alley smelled of blood and fear. Gaara crouched in the dirt, sand swirling around him, shaking after the attack. A dead Suna ninja lay nearby.
Naruto, blood dripping down his head, stood protectively in front of him, fists clenched, whole body shaking with building rage. A low, feral snarl escaped him, deep, too animalistic to belong to a child.
They hurt him. Worse, they tried to hurt his ototo.
The shinobi froze in terror as Naruto’s chakra went wild, wind began whipping around him violently as his eyes flashed crimson, his whisker marks deepening. The ground he was standing on cracked.
In the next instant, he was lunging—small fists striking with monstrous strength, sending a shinobi reeling. His movements were feral, growls rough and primal.
"Watch out!" a shinobi yelled in panic. "It's the Nine-Tails!"
"Contain him—now!" another ordered as they circled him. "Don't let the demon out!"
Yashamaru stepped between Naruto and the shinobi, his expression stern. "ENOUGH!”
The shinobi hesitated, unsure whether or not to listen.
Yashamaru barely held back an eye roll. “He's just a kid—he can't control it yet. Back off before you make it worse."
He pressed calming chakra to Naruto’s forehead. "You’re not a monster," he murmured. "Not a demon, not a curse. You are a boy and you are deeply loved. Breathe with me."
Naruto clawed at his arms, trapped between rage and something darker—until a small voice cut through the haze.
"Nii-san... it's okay."
Gaara stood before him, tiny hand outstretched.
Naruto blinked, the red in his eyes wavering. "..Ototo?"
Yashamaru tightened his grip. "Gaara’s safe. He needs you, not the fox."
Gaara whispered again, trembling, "Nii-san?"
That broke him. Naruto’s knees gave out as the fury drained away, leaving only exhaustion and his little ototo's worried face. His claws—when did he grow claws?—receded back into small, trembling fingers. His rage wavered, then collapsed as Naruto stumbled back.
Yashamaru gave a slow nod. "Good. Now go to him."
Naruto didn’t hesitate, dropping beside Gaara, breath ragged. "I got you," he whispered. "They won’t hurt us again."
Gaara’s sand curled hesitantly around Naruto’s arm in an attempt to further calm him.
At Yashamaru, Naruto choked out a clumsy apology. "I didn’t mean to…"
Yashamaru gathered them close. "It’s not your fault. You’re not the beast inside you."
Nearby, villagers watched in fear as Yashamaru led the boys away.
"Will they ever stop hating us?" Gaara asked quietly.
Yashamaru’s voice was gentle. "The world fears what’s different. It always has. One day, they’ll recognize the kind of special you two are."
Naruto sniffled. "I don't wanna be special or different. Just wanna be normal."
"Normal is overrated," Yashamaru said, taking their small hands. "In time, you'll come to understand this. No tears now, for there are those in this world that love and cherish you both."
Gaara’s grip on Naruto tightened. “Even if we’re different?”
Yashamaru nodded. “Especially then. You see, love isn’t just for those who are easy to love. It’s a choice—and I choose to love you both. Now come along, let us go home."
Naruto beamed. “See, Ototo? Told you we weren’t alone! Yashamaru loves us like how we love each other!”
Gaara’s breath hitched. Maybe... just maybe, they weren’t as alone as he thought. Maybe there were other people aside from Naruto who could actually love him for him. Maybe he didn't need to change. Maybe just being him was enough.
Naruto turned to Gaara with a huge grin on his sunshine face. “Climb on!” he chirped, crouching and patting his back.
Gaara blinked, startled. “Why?”
“‘Cause your legs are tired,” Naruto said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And ‘cause I wanna.”
Gaara hesitated for a second, just a second, before climbing onto Naruto’s back. The moment he did, Naruto stood tall, arms wrapped securely under Gaara’s knees, and took off racing down the path as if he were in a race as Yashamaru chuckled, shaking his head.
“Careful, Naruto!” he called, but even he knew that warning was unnecessary. Naruto always was when it came to his ototo.
Gaara held on tightly and buried his face in Naruto’s shoulder, breathing in the usual citrus and sun-scorched cotton that he never seemed to get enough of.
Naruto smiled even wider, warmth glowing in his chest. “I got you, okay? I’ll always carry you.”
Yashamaru trailed behind, watching them with a smile. This wasn’t just affection from Naruto. It was devotion, pure and simple.
Two days later, Gaara was sitting on the edge of the bed, talking quietly with his nii-san, when Yashamaru entered. He wore the same familiar, gentle expression as always, but something in his voice sounded just slightly off.
“The Kazekage wishes to see you both,” he said. “Outside the village walls.”
Naruto blinked blearily. “At night? Is he drunk again?” he mumbled, not really getting up yet.
But as Yashamaru motioned for them to follow, the boys left the safety of the house hand-in-hand, making sure to stay close behind their protector. Naruto yawned and stretched. "Why couldn't he have this meeting during the day? I'm tired. Can it wait until tomorrow?"
"This won't take long," Yashamaru assured him.
The desert outside the walls was cool and windless, the full moon their only source of light. They stood together under the open sky when Yashamaru stopped a few paces ahead and turned. His grey eyes were empty. When he spoke, it was with the calm of a man who had already decided.
“You’ve both become threats.”
Naruto squinted. “What?”
“The Kazekage believes your bond is making Gaara unpredictable. And Naruto…” Yashamaru paused. “You were never supposed to be here.”
Gaara’s breath hitched. “Uncle?”
“I loved my sister,” Yashamaru went on quietly. “But I never loved either of you. And now I’ve been ordered to end this.”
The first kunai flew before either of them could react. It wasn’t aimed at Gaara. It sliced across Naruto’s cheek before embedding in the sand.
Naruto stumbled back with a cry of pain, and Gaara’s scream ripped through the night. The sand surged up of its own accord, wrapping around Yashamaru’s legs. But Yashamaru moved fast, throwing more kunai—none of them aimed at Gaara. He was clearly trying to eliminate Naruto first.
Gaara stepped in front of him without thinking, arms spread wide, eyes wild.
“Why?!” he shouted. “We didn’t do anything!”