Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
Summary: AU. You never know, really, but you know, really. Kakashi x Gaara x Kakashi, YAOI.
Warning: YAOI obviously, male on male if you need it spelled out for you, implied sexual content. Weirdness. Grammar mistakes.
Author's Notes: I'm posting a completely new, written-on-a-whim fic. I'm a bitch that way. If anyone's familiar with classical Freudian therapy style, I'm attempting (miserably) at free association technique in this alternate universe, where assassins and magicians must take the bus to get back home. Buses are convenient that way. Well, not really.

"Sugar Me"

"Genius is eternal patience." - Michelangelo

Prologue

On the other side of those pricky wooden fences was a bus stop with a red and white sign on it that said, "Please wait in line." Because the leaves and dusty wind of autumn managed to take over the entire (how ever small) town, there was nothing but dust and leaves over and around the two cold seats of that bus stop. At 6:30pm there would be a bus arriving. Another would arrive about 15 minutes later. When the bus arrives, there would be a gush of wind. And then when the gush of wind soars through the bus stop glass station, you would shiver.

"...I had a bad day." I watched the boy mutter to himself. Or me. I wasn't certain which one of us he was talking to.

He appeared, everday, at exactly 6:19pm. He sat down at the edge of the bus stop seat, back straight, hands on his knees, and every day he sat there as if some one was watching him for mistakes in his posture. I was guessing, however, that at least a part of his mind understood that no one ever stalked him to the bus stop this late. Or he could just not care, because after a while, he would give up sitting upright, and slouch backward against the cold, vibrating glass that held the small bus stop together on all four sides.

"They don't understand what's at stake here. They are weak and they might be destroyed by others capable of it and wouldn't give it a second thought." he continued, frowning slightly, as if the ground between his shoes understood what he was talking about. His name, I never knew, must have been quite important, because he seemed to have quite a bunch of people working under his authority. I gathered that much, as we sat here everyday in this bus stop, and waited for the 6:30pm bus to come.

We went on our own seperate ways once the bus comes, wheezing and its wheels skipping to a rusty stop that disturbed the fluttering leaves on the ground before our feet. He liked to sit by the window behind the bus driver, and I liked to sit against the emergency escape route window. I had the emergency routine memorized. Just in case.

"But when they actually realize that they can't go up against their enemies on their own, they turn to me and say they trust me. If this is trust, I don't want it. They just use me when they need my powers." the boy continued to protest against thin air. Frustration and disappointment radiated off of him as he talked to the silent trees on the other side of the road. Or me. I was not very certain at times.

There were times when he didn't talk. In those times, I talked. And because I was the one talking, I knew that I talked to him not the trees. However, those times were less frequent, rare, I'd even say, and when I did talk to him as he sat in that same position as he did everyday, I talked quietly and a bit melancholy. I wondered if he thought I was boring?

"Do you think I would go insane and destroy all the people around me?"

I wondered if he was asking me or the air again. There was a pause, and then, to my slight disappointment and relief, he continued, "I guess they have the right to fear that. I do have a lot of things that point against me. But I made a promise. And someone taught me that a promise to protect precious people is important enough to continue to live. So I would never hurt my precious people. But I don't understand why my precious people still act like I am going to eat them." the boy stated.

Even in his frustration, his tone was a flat, cold line. He hardly changed his expression. The most frequent expression he had on his face, and this was not much, was confusion. Kids shouldn't live in confusion all the time like this. Nor should they be given a power or responsibility that effects other people's lives so profoundly.

"The bus is here." I commented, looking at the far approaching bus. The boy stilled, as if just realizing that he had been muttering his life problems to a stranger for the last twenty minutes, but then he snapped out of it and nodded silently. We stood up together, and walked to the edge of the leafy brick road simultaneously. The boy had blood red hair, and in the wind, I couldn't help but think that he looked like his head was on fire.

To be continued

A/N: The line format is working again. I think it's mocking me. Well, this must be quite the boring start for a fic, but really, I just want to write it. Because exams are coming in a few days and I rather write nothingness than the paper I'm supposed to be writting for the last few days. Gaara and Kakashi are two quiet people that are seldomly put together. I have a vague idea of why I want them together. I wrote a drabble before about them, and I think I'll post it if I manage to live through midterm papers and exams and projects. They are two of my favourite characters, but I'm not putting them together because of simply that. There's lots of things that I'd like to talk about them. Their not-so-obvious similarities, for instance. Ah, well, exams first. I think. I wish not but I think so.