Title: Therapeutic Kisses
Rated: Restricted/Mature
Disclaimer: I own nothing other than the plot of this story. Technically, I do not even own that for God owns me, so that means he owns this plot as well. If you are a lawyer, (Why would a lawyer read my story? I don't know. Why would a lawyer try to sue me? I don't know, I don't got any money, taking me to court would not be worth it since you got to pay for a judge and jury. I watch too much Law and Order. Anyhow….) I have proof that I do not own anything involving Naruto and the many characters in the series. If I owned Gaara, he would be here holding me in his arms, or off in the arms of Neji. If I owned the Naruto series….let's just say Sakura would be dead by now. This must be the longest disclaimer ever!
GaaraxNeji
Chapter Title: 1 - Such an odd family
Summary: Gaara and his family moves to Konoha.
He sat there not moving as the world moved around him. His sky blue eyes(1) looking through the glass before him. Pictures moved before his eyes as if he were watching television. Pfff!(2) He would never taint his mind by watching the idiotic talking box as he tended to call it. However, he would happily taint his mind with the heavy metal music blasting through his black headphones. The 'Dark Music'™, as his sister Temari often called it, oddly calmed him. The music he listened to often reflected the mood he was feeling at the time. He listened to hard rock and metal whenever angry, and songs full of angst and pain, that an Emo band would wish they could of came up with, when he was depressed.
The boy was not Goth nor was he Emo, despite all the black he tended to wear. He did not fit in any group or type of people but perhaps, it was due to the face that he did not want to fit in. He liked being alone and by himself. He enjoyed his own company; however, he also hated his own company. The boy was known to be bi-polar, his moods changing without warning and faster than that of a pregnant woman. Rumors often went around that he was possessed by a demon or had multiple personalities taking residence within him. Neither rumor was true, but you of all people should know that rumors never are true.
The scenery around the boy came to a stop as the white car that he was in came to a complete stop. It did not pass GO. It did not collect 200. The driver removed his car keys from the ignition and pocketed them before getting out of the automobile. The man was about 61 with his reddish brown hair, and a scowl gracing his features…he looked around the age of 47. His eyes were a bit bloodshot which may hint at his alcoholic behavior. It was hard to tell if the man was wealthy or not. He moved his family to a medium sized home in a suitable neighborhood; it was not the greatest of neighborhoods, but it was better than all the neighborhoods in the town they used to live in. Suna was a horrible place to live, the weather conditions were quite unbearable and one had to glue down their furniture to the floor to prevent it from being stolen. Sometimes, that was not even enough.
The man wore a gray suit with a black and white pinstriped tie. He dressed as if he were going to a job interview, which did not exactly stray from the truth. The thing was, his interview was scheduled for tomorrow. It was odd for the man to be so dressed up when moving into a new house. It is a bit hard to analyze the man's motives as to the suit, but one can not focus on such things. The man is not of any importance...yet. Hopefully, his motives will soon be revealed as so you will not have to worry any longer. I know that you were, despite your pleas. Denial is not only a river in Egypt now.
The door of the front passenger's seat carefully opened. Gracefully, a blond girl with four pigtails got out of the car. Her style was a bit different from what one would normally see. It consisted of black fishnet and the color purple. She showed her curves, yet she did not flaunt it out in a rather skanky manner. The girl was about 18 and looked to be the sister of the boy mentioned earlier. She had a strong aura radiate from her. It shined with calmness, kindness, spirit, and maturity. What may strike you as odd about the girl was that she carried a rather large fan with her. She did not seem vain, but why else would this strange girl carry a large fan for?
Next to get out of the car was a 17-year old boy wearing a black hoodie and face-paint. He certainly was strange looking. but the icing on the cake was that he carried a doll with him. Now, I can understand a girl with a doll…but a boy, and especially not at his age.
The father of the two seemed to be yelling at the last occupant of the car, the boy mentioned earlier. The boy must have been told to get out of the car for the father's face got quite redder and his voice got louder as the boy stayed in the car longer. The father clearly had anger management problems for he slammed his fist into the side of the car creating a dent. It was obvious that the father's actions were all in vain, the boy remained in the car. His only movement being of him increasing the volume of the musical device that he held in his pale boney hands. The boy was sickly skinny and pale. Perhaps, it was due to the black clothing and fishnet shirts that he often wore, or it could have been from the heavy black eyeliner he wore around his eyes that made him look paler, or perhaps, it was the maroon colored hair that graced his head that had that effect on him. What striked many people as odd was a matter of two different things. The first being of the gourd he always kept with him and the second being of the tattoo on his forehead. It was not the aspect of having a tattoo that was weird. It was what the tattoo represented, stood for, and symbolized for that was strange. A dark looking boy with the Japanese kanji for "Love" tattooed on his forehead. That certainly was not a sight that one would see everyday.
The boy's father continued to yell, but it was all in vain. The boy simply refused to get out and no one could force him to get out. His siblings watched with mixed feelings concerning the young boy. One felt the same hatred that their father felt for the 16-year old male in the car, as the other one felt love for him and wished that people would just leave him alone. The blond glanced at her brother and sighed before telling the two men that she would get him out of the car. She gently knocked on the window of the car door and patiently waited for the pale white and boney hand that belonged to her brother to unlock the door. His hand moved rather swiftly that the girl almost did not even know that he moved until she saw his hand return to the musical device in his other hand. The girl smiled kindly when she saw her brother lower the volume. Her brother was not social and did not like the presence of others, yet here he was welcoming her. It may not have been with wide open arms, but he was still welcoming her in his own little anti-social way.
"Gaara, why won't you get out of the car?" She asked him sweetly.
The boy, that she called Gaara looked her over for a quick second before his eyes returned in the direction of the window. She got into the car and sat beside him. She left the door open, a mistake on her part.
"I understand that things are not going well with dad, Kankuro and you….but it is only temporary. Eventually, I will make enough money to get us an apartment. Soon, we will be able to leave this place. Please, just get out of the car," She pleaded.
Gaara never got the chance to answer his sister for his father yanked her out of the car and punched Gaara hard in the stomach. "Get out of the car you little Shit and unload the car!" He pulled Gaara out of the car by the arm and allowed him to fall onto the ground. Gaara glared at his father and silently wished that his sister, Temari, was being sincere and that they soon would be away from his brother, Kankuro, and his father.
GaaraxNeji
Gaara's room was the smallest bedroom in the world….just kidding, the smallest bedroom in the house. His father always made Gaara have the smallest room in the house. A fact that Gaara secretly was very pleased with. He liked having a small room, but that was a fact that he would never admit to his father for he did not want to deal with the man's 'legendary' anger. He would curse his son out, speak highly negatively of him, abuse him, and treat him as if he were an outsider to their family. He alienated his youngest child and thus, pushed away his oldest child at the same time. Unlike Kankuro, Temari cared about Gaara. Due to Kankuro and their father's resentment for Gaara, she tried to earn enough money to buy an apartment but her father started making her pay him rent once she got a job. It would take her a while to come up with enough money as she would need.
Gaara closed the door of his room before unpacking the boxes in his room. The task hardly took any time since there were only five boxes to unpack and two of them were filled with his computer and supplies that went with it. The other three boxes were filled with his clothes, music, stereo, and many tubes of eyeliner. He finished putting his things away and locked the door Temari would freak if she learned of what activity her little brother was about to partake in. He walked over to his stereo and placed in three CDs onto the rotation wheel. He chose a Marilyn Manson mix CD, a Japanese artist named Miyavi's last album, and Bullet for My Valentine's CD. He pressed play and the intro of the Bullet for my Valentine CD began to play. The track was purely instrumental and the guitar solo had a calming affect on the red head, but not a big enough effect to prevent him from pulling a box cutter from his pocket. His sister worked at the evil atrocity known as Wal-Mart after 4th period. She was a part time student since the only classes she had left to take were Calculus, Physics, 12th grade Literature, and French 2. She often would have a box cutter in Wal-Mart vest pocket for opening boxes whenever a new shipment came in for the department she worked in.
Temari was famously known for losing things, whether it be her car keys, wallet, purse, or driver's license. With her constantly losing things, she would never suspect Gaara of stealing her missing box cutter. Gaara pushed the lever up, causing the blade to slowly rise up from its hiding place. He stared at the metal with fascination, as his breath hitched up. The blood within him began to warm up in his body, begging to be let out. How could he refuse it? Gaara was not as heartless as people often believed. Complying with the wishes of the fluid within his body that represented life itself, he brought the box cutter to his right arm, which was already laced with thin scars in all directions on his arm. He ran it along his arm in an odd little pattern, blood spilt from the self-inflicted wounds almost instantly. Gaara got extreme pleasure from the self-induced pain, a fact that was apparent from the look of release, satisfaction, and pleasure that graced his face. He felt calmer and more content as the copper-scented liquid flowed from his arm. Over the years, Gaara was called many things. A common favorite among the general public was the term, "Monster." Perhaps, he was a monster for he liked to spill his own blood; A trait that no normal person held.
The odd thing about the activity that Gaara practiced daily was that as time passed, the scars looked more like a picture day by day. The depressive artist would proclaim it the "Homemade Tattoo" or the "Body Masterpiece." If people were to catch sight of his scars, most would be disgusted, but there would be a few people who would be interested and intruded. Currently, it looked like a frail body of one that did not eat. The arms were very thin and the hands were fleshless. It was strange how the red head made his scars look like this. "Scars over lapping one another and creating a picture a shade lighter than his flesh. Wounds healing, becoming scabs, and than being peeled away."
Gaara stared at the surfacing blood and ran his finger along the sticky red fluid. He rubbed it between his thumb and index finger. Apparently, he never heard of the saying "Do not play with your food." He licked the copper scented fluid from his bloodied fingers, the copper-like scent and taste sent his senses into overdrive. He was so lost in his activities that he never heard the lock being picked and the door opening.
GaaraxNeji
A/N: February 17, 2007/Saturday
Hope the chapter was long enough. It was four pages in my notebook and I write small. Crazy small!
Cliff hanger! Who walked in on Gaara? Was it Temari? What will happen?
(1)– It says his eyes are Sky Blue in the series.
(2)– Another way of saying, "As If!"