He didn't mind, despite the blond's obvious outrage. Truth was that he himself hadn't remembered until some point after sunrise, when the voice he didn't realize he was waiting for never showed.
It had been gone for months, yet he had somehow still expected it to mock him. To writhe and twist within him, cursing his very existence. For the first time in the former jinjuriki's life, it was quiet on this day. For the first time, there was no reminder. No guilt, or slander, or nightmarish images planted in his fragile mind to warp him further. Truth be told, the silence was mildly unnerving. Those hours, as the sun and the early rose, seemed to be as haunting as the voice was.
As the day progressed, the redhead started believing that the calendar had deceived him. That today was not the day it said it was. There had been no mention of the date. Not from his siblings who he expected such things from. Not from the Konoha shinobi he had come to know. Not even the girls he passed on his way to meet the blond had brought it up, and he was sure they would comment.
When the blond fell into step with him, all previous thoughts fell away. It did not matter. Not really. The war was ending. He had successfully protected the one beside him thus far, albeit with some difficulty. The blond's stubbornness was unyielding. Heaven help him if he didn't knock the boy out himself. Unconsciously, his thumb and middle finger found the bridge of his nose. A small sigh and a slight shake of his head followed. That boy would surely be the death of him one day.
A nudge forced him out of his thoughts, along with that tell-tale whine.
His name was dragged out in that childish way only the blond seemed capable of. He stopped, showing the blond he had his undivided attention, ignoring the twitch at the corners of his lips. He was granted a sheepish grin in return. The boy rambled some apology about not having anything, the fault of the war, he assured and about being repetitive since he was sure everyone beat him to the punch already. The last words were what left the redhead stunned.
"Happy birthday."
The face beaming at him was overwhelming. Contagious, really. Contagious was what the blond was best at, after all. The redhead caved to that familiar twitch, allowing his lips to pull into a soft smile. This only seemed to encourage the blond more. An arm dropped onto his shoulder, for once not shrugged off, and the two resumed walking. The younger chattered away, asking what his siblings had gotten him, or the fangirls he had passed earlier. The last comment was accompanied with a playful nudge and wink. When he had replied that the blond was the first to acknowledge the day, the boy was speechless. Amusement danced in the redhead's eyes; he could feel it. The silence was brief though, and soon the outburst began. Including everything from flailing arms to threats against his siblings for forgetting. The redhead just continued on, listening to the rant beside him and resisting that urge at his mouth again.
He didn't mind, despite the terrible circumstances surrounding the date. Truth was that not even the irritating snow tainted things for him, not when this next year had been welcomed in by a friend.
I felt I should do something for Gaara's birthday. Nothing too fancy, just a little drabble. Edited with loving help from SailorStrut. As always.