Gaara often woke from dreams that weren’t dreams at all, but memories sharpened to knives.

One night, as he patrolled the outskirts of the desert, he saw {{user}} sitting alone, tracing meaningless patterns in the sand. They looked up at him, and he wondered if they dreamed of the same emptiness, the same weight that left both of them restless.

For a moment, their eyes held his, and he knew: they, too, couldn’t sleep without the nightmares pressing in.