At the center of the desert.
Sasuke coughed, spitting out sand from his mouth, his eyes stinging painfully.
Footsteps gradually approached.
Ssssh, ssssh.
Very light, very steady. The interval between each step was exactly the same, as if measured with a ruler.
Sasuke looked up, his Sharingan peering through the gradually dispersing sand dust, and saw that red-haired boy.
Gaara, carrying a large gourd on his back, stopped five meters in front of him. His green eyes looked calmly at Sasuke. There was no killing intent in that gaze, no hostility, not even the excitement of battle.
Only endless pity.
Like looking at a young beast struggling in a trap.
"You bastard!"
Being so looked down upon, Sasuke's anger instantly ignited.
He suddenly leaped up from the sand, his hands sweeping across his ninja tool pouch, and six shuriken shot out.
The six shuriken, with different angles and different rotation speeds, sealed off all of Gaara's evasive directions.
At least, that's what Sasuke believed.
But Gaara just tilted his head slightly, not even moving his feet.
The first shuriken flew past his ear.
His body turned slightly, the second and third shuriken grazing past his chest and back. His left hand raised, index and middle finger catching the fourth. His right leg raised, the instep knocking away the fifth. Finally, he lowered his head slightly, and the sixth shuriken flew over the top of his head, barely taking a few strands of red hair with it.
All missed.
Sasuke's pupils contracted.
But this wasn't over.
The corner of his mouth curled up as he suddenly pulled his hands back.
All six shuriken were attached to almost invisible wires.
Under Sasuke's control, the wires tightened, causing the shuriken to suddenly stop and change direction, shooting back from six different directions toward Gaara's back, back of head, back of neck, side of waist—
Manipulated Shuriken Technique!
A technique Sasuke had practiced hard for several years, precise control that even Kakashi had praised.
Yet…
Gaara didn't even turn around, as if he had eyes in the back of his head. The sand at his feet, as if possessing an independent will, instantly surged up, forming a sand shield behind him.
Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang!
Six crisp sounds. All six shuriken were blocked by the sand shield.
Sasuke stood still, his fingers still holding the posture of pulling the wires, his expression frozen.
'Impossible!'
'This is impossible!'
'My Manipulated Shuriken Technique was very difficult for even a Special Jonin-level Ninja to completely dodge, let alone be blocked so casually.'
'This red-haired guy… what exactly—'
"Come on, let me see your limits."
Gaara spoke, his tone like that of a Ninja Academy's teacher instructing a student.
"If this is all you've got, you don't deserve to know the truth."
'Truth?'
That word pierced Sasuke's ears like needles.
He snapped his head up, the tomoes in his Sharingan beginning to spin faster, anger mixed with a certain unease, surging in his chest.
"Stop putting on airs!"
Sasuke roared, his hands beginning to form hand seals, his fingers moving so fast they left afterimages.
The wires wrapped around his fingertips, dancing with the motions of his hand seals, like some kind of bizarre dance.
Snake—Ram—Monkey—Boar—Horse—Tiger.
Fire Release: Dragon Fire Technique!
He took a deep breath, his chest swelling, then suddenly exhaled.
Blazing hot flames gushed from his mouth. The flames spread along those wires, and the wires acted like fuses, accurately guiding the flames in six directions, completely surrounding Gaara.
The flames burned on the wires but did not burn through these specially made wires.
Six fire lines, six angles, like a blossoming fire flower, with Gaara at its center.
No escape!
"Got him!" A fierce look flashed in Sasuke's eyes.
Gaara raised his right hand.
Five fingers spread.
"Sand Hand."
The sand exploded, and a giant sand hand three meters in diameter extended from underground.
The giant hand spread its five fingers and grabbed all the wires, along with the flames burning on them.
Then, it clenched its fist.
Sssss—!
The flames were forcibly extinguished. The wires snapped under the tremendous force.
Sasuke's lips trembled.
'This red-haired guy… Is he really a Genin?'
"Is this really the extent of your strength?"
Gaara clasped his hands together, forming a simple seal.
"Sand Release: Sand Burial."
Centered beneath Sasuke's feet, a ten-meter radius of sand began to transform into a trap even more terrifying than quicksand.
The sand grains spun and sank, forming a massive vortex.
Sasuke wanted to jump away, but his legs were already buried up to his knees.
He struggled desperately, gathering Chakra on the soles of his feet, trying to use Chakra Adhesion Technique to break free.
But the sand's suction was too strong, and the grains were still climbing up his thighs and waist.
Just then, that sand hand reached over. Like swatting a fly, it slapped Sasuke hard in the chest.
"Urgh!"
Sasuke felt at least two ribs break. The sharp pain instantly drained his strength, and his entire body was slapped into the center of the vortex.
Sand waves surged up, submerging him to the chest.
Then to his neck.
His chin.
His mouth.
His nose—
Suffocation set in.
Sand grains burrowed into his nasal passages, blocking his windpipe. His vision began to darken.
Sasuke struggled desperately, but his limbs were tightly bound by sand, unable to move.
"So this is… what death feels like?
"Just like that night six years ago… helpless, hopeless—"
'No!'
'I can't die here.'
'I haven't killed that man yet—'
'I haven't found out the truth—'
In his blurred vision, the sand loosened, the restraints easing slightly, at least enough for his head to emerge.
Sasuke gasped for air, coughing out sand. His Sharingan stared fixedly at Gaara walking toward him.
Gaara stopped in front of him and crouched down.
Then he saw…
Gaara pulled that four-leaf clover-shaped green crystal pendant from his collar and gently swayed it before his eyes.
Sunlight passed through the crystal, refracting a gentle halo, also illuminating Sasuke's disheveled face.
"Isn't it beautiful?"
Gaara's voice was very soft, as soft as if he were afraid of disturbing something.
"This is a gift my adoptive mother gave me on my eighth birthday."
Sasuke's breathing stopped.
'Adoptive mother?'
"She said," Gaara continued, his green eyes looking at the pendant, his gaze becoming much softer, "She originally had two sons. The eldest was very outstanding, but went down the wrong path. The younger son… was the same age as me."
Each word landed like a hammer on Sasuke's heart.
"She often talked about her younger son. She said he cried a lot when he was little, but when he practiced shuriken, he would become very serious. She said he liked tomatoes and hated natto. She said he always clung to his older brother, and that his older brother also doted on him—"
Sasuke's lips trembled.
Tears welled up without warning, mixing with the sand grains on his face, leaving dirty tear tracks as they fell.
"She… her name is—"
Gaara lowered his head, looked at Sasuke, and said, word by word: "Uchiha Mikoto."
Time stopped.
Sasuke's mind went blank.
His ears were ringing, the world was spinning, all sounds faded away, only those words echoing in his mind.
Uchiha Mikoto.
Uchiha Mikoto.
Uchiha… Mikoto…
"No… impossible…" Sasuke's voice was hoarse, like a broken bellows: "My mother… died long ago… on that night six years ago… together with Father… and the clan members… killed by that monster!"
The more he spoke, the louder his voice became, finally almost shouting.
Tears flowed uncontrollably.
But Gaara's eyes held no sympathy.
"So this is the 'truth' that those people in Konoha fed you?" he asked.
"Then, after seeing Captain Shisui, do you still believe that all the Uchiha Clan's members are dead?"
Sasuke's body trembled violently.
Shisui!
That day he returned to the village, at the village entrance, he saw him wearing a Star Ninja's flak jacket and a Land of Stars' forehead protector—
Uchiha… Shisui!
A living Uchiha.
"Do you want to know the truth about that night?" Gaara's voice struck Sasuke's shattered worldview. "That night, Uchiha Itachi received orders to commit genocide. But the number of people he killed was far fewer than you imagine."
"Shisui stopped him. He brought the Land of Stars' Ninja forces to evacuate the survivors. Most of the Uchiha Clan, including Aunt Mikoto, were taken out of Konoha that night and brought to the Land of Stars."
Gaara paused, looked at Sasuke's completely collapsed expression, gave a light snort, and slowly whispered: "Guess who wasn't taken away?"
"Guess which 'monster' was acting on whose orders?"
Boom—!!!
Sasuke's mind exploded.
All the fragments of his memory were forcibly pieced together at this moment.
That night, he came home and saw Itachi holding a blood-dripping Ninja Sword, saw his parents lying in pools of blood… but when he thought about it carefully, had he really seen the bodies of other clansmen?
The Uchiha Clan's compound was so large, housing over a thousand people, yet when he woke up, he was told that everyone was dead, that the bodies had already been buried—
His experience in the Anbu…
Training from Kakashi and Yamato…
The concern of the Third Hokage…
Those arrangements 'for your own good'.
Those 'suggestions' that subtly prevented him from investigating further.
And… Uchiha Itachi.
The last look that man gave him.
It wasn't just killing intent.
There was also… pain?
Cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
"No… no… impossible…"
"Mother… wouldn't abandon me…"
Sasuke muttered, his entire body shaking uncontrollably. In the Sharingan of both his eyes, a pair of black tomoes were spinning wildly, almost tearing at his eye sockets.
"You're lying to me… you must be lying to me!"
"You must be lying to me!!!"
Sasuke roared, as if trying to vent all the anger in his heart.
A third tomoe slowly emerged in his crimson pupils as well.