Gaara suddenly felt like that eleven-year-old boy again, standing in front of his mother’s coffin, staring at her face for the last time before she was lowered into the ground. He remembered Uncle Yoshi holding him tightly, sobbing uncontrollably, while his grandparents stood nearby with cold expressions carved on their faces. His father had spent hours smoking in silence without shedding a single tear. That was the day Gaara began to understand how cruel the world could be.

“Love is such ...