My first submission to the 30 Kisses Community, and my first voluntary time restriction. I'm hoping it goes well, because, as everyone knows, I have no control over the plot. The bunnies took care of that.

Title of the work: The Way to Woo
Author/Artist:
Pairing: Subaku no GaaraxHyuuga Neji
Fandom: Naruto
Theme: #13, 18, 24, 28: Excessive chain, 'say ah…', good night, Wada Calcium CD3
Disclaimer: Naruto is not, never has been, and never will be mine.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Way of Courting

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Loneliness…like a desert stretching out as far as the eye can see. As timeless as the ocean but not as merciful, as wide as the sky itself and as long as infinity, a desolate wasteland that could never become anything else but this, though all the rains in the world beat against its barren soil.

Anger…the howling wind, scalding in its fury. As hot as the burning sun, as dangerous as a caged beast, giving shape to the desert as it claws its way through.

Hatred…a feeling older than either of the two. As heavy as sand, older than he could remember, a scar over his heart, weighing down his very soul.

Love…a memory, so faint. An unexplainable, soothing breeze, or a small oasis with its life-giving water. That's what it had felt like, that's what it should feel like, but he wasn't sure.

Love?

Could there be such a thing for him…a thing like love?

- - - - - -

"Ok, Gaara, I got here as fast as – what tornado came through here?"

Temari was justified in her shock. Anti-social he might be, and a homicidal maniac sometimes, but Gaara was very particular about cleanliness. He had the innate ability to come out of the shower looking perfectly pressed, and even when he wasn't moving, the sand would tidy up around him. She had once been in the room during a neat freak moment and never wanted to repeat it again. The image of a ten-pound table coming straight at her with surgical precision would haunt her dreams for a long time.

Today though, the usually pristine apartment was utterly buried under… everything else. The floor was covered in a mixture of laundry and magazines. Lampshades were askew on lamps that weren't smashed. Flowers were separated from their vases and, judging by the wet patches all over the room, from their water, wilting forlornly on overturned chairs and on the halved coffee table that was miraculously standing on two legs. What happened to the other half, no one could say, but the broken window could be a clue. The gourd itself was untouched, leaning conspicuously against the far wall, completely sock free. She couldn't even imagine her brother living here. But he was.

Gaara was sitting atop a pile of clothing, looking pensively at a white piece of paper. A pen drummed a three by four beat against his nose. He hadn't even noticed that she'd arrived, as usual. Keeping watchful eyes on the seemingly inactive gourd, and trying to shake off the feeling that it was watching her back, she waded her way through the ankle-deep newspapers.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

Temari paused, one foot in the process of stepping over a lamp that hadn't escaped whatever her brother was doing, eyebrow hiking up. "No. Why are you-"

"Do you know how it feels?"

"No." The eyebrow climbed a little higher and her foot came down with a crunch. "Do you mind-"

An exasperated note had crept into the redhead's voice, and it was instantly obvious that it had been kept on the simmer for a long time. "Are you a girl, Temari?"

Now both her eyebrows went up before drawing down into a disapproving frown. Not even Subaku no Gaara could question her sexuality. "Of course I am! I've been your sister for almost twenty years. Just the word 'sister' should be enough to give you a clue."

Gaara finally looked up. His impassive eyes scanned her indignant form for what seemed like eternity. It was like being under the calculating eyes of her instructor again, and she squirmed uncomfortably.

Finally, he looked away and waved a hand. "Sit down somewhere."

He went on staring at his paper as she tried to find a chair that wasn't wet, ripped and/or covered in ceramic remains. Reaching out, he hooked his mug and took a dignified sip of the cold liquid, unaware of the wad of miscellaneous newspaper stuck to the bottom. When he had set it back down, Temari had finished shoveling the laundry off her relatively dry chair.

"Why have you never had a relationship?"

The eyebrow started its climb again. "Because I've never been interested."

"I see."

"Do you mind telling me why your house looks like a dump?"

The pen took up its staccato beat once more, this time on the rim of the mug. "I was looking for a blank sheet of paper."

"Ah."

Temari fished out a sock wedged between the cushions and threw it away. Gaara seemed to have a lot of laundry for someone who'd only been back for two days. Perhaps he brought it back, but that was improbable. She'd been Sand Ambassador to Konoha Village before passing it down to Gaara, and even if he changed twice a day, it was impossible to accumulate such a load. And if he was going back tomorrow, he would have to do some heavy-duty sorting and bleaching and everything else because there were ink spots and they were starting to collect dust…

What a completely unrelated and tedious thing to think.

It was that damn pen, getting on her nerves with that steady tck-tck-tck. The house was strangely quiet, so quiet she could even hear the familiar howl of the wind in the gourd. But even that was strange, because it didn't sound like a howl. It sounded more like a sigh, a breathy, broody sort of sigh. It didn't make any sense. The gourd was the embodiment of both Shukaku and Gaara. Though Gaara had indeed tamed the call of the demon, and Shukaku himself had been surprisingly easy to appease as of late, they were both still very in touch with the darker side of emotion. After all, they both had been smothered in it ever since they had been brought together. This sound, this odd sigh that was both hopeful and hopeless at the same time, was very uncharacteristic. Quite out of place.

Unless…

She blinked. She could feel her face go wooden, not wanting to betray her thoughts.

The gourd was the embodiment of Shukaku and Gaara. The gourd was Shukaku and Gaara. Shukaku was a part of Gaara. In essence, the gourd was Gaara, but unbound by conflicting human emotion, decorum and constraint.

The gourd sighed again, the sound now abnormally loud to her ears. The gourd sounded…a little lovesick.

That meant that…

"What is the word, Temari, for wishing to let your feelings be known to a person properly?"

Still riding the waves of shock at her newfound discovery, she blinked owlishly before the full meaning of the question arrived in her brain. "To date, to…to court."

The pen finally stopped its rhythm and Gaara scribbled something down.

"Do…" Her throat was dry. This was monumental, an unforgettable moment in the making. "Do you have someone in mind?"

Hesitation was a foreign concept to her brother. Every decision, once made, was set in stone and irreversible. "Yes. I wish to court someone from the Hyuuga lineage."

Ignoring the thump of her heart, she tried to process this. Hyuuga lineage…this meant Hinata. She was a nice girl, if a little shy. She had grown to be very beautiful and was doing a commendable job as head of her family, so her brother's desire was understandable. Hinata, her brother's girlfriend. She could deal with that. Now the reason for being called over from the Kazekage's office was transparent. "You want me to tell you how to court someone."

The reason for the paper was obvious too, because as soon as she said this, the pen stopped completely and he looked at her with expectant eyes. "Yes."

Even the sighing of the gourd had stopped and she could swear that it even leaned forward a little. Shukaku had ears.

"Well, first of all…"

- - - - - -

They had ended up with a sizeable list and had reduced it accordingly. She had driven several key instructions into her brother's brain and even now when she was leaving, she couldn't help a last reminder.

"Don't forget to compliment and be attentive, okay?"

Gaara nodded, eyes still scanning over the list hungrily like he had been doing for the past two hours. "Numbers four and six."

He was so in love with the girl, Temari thought, trying to control her smile. "I can't wait for you to introduce her to me properly."

Kohl-rimmed green eyes connected with hers. "What do you mean?"

"You have to introduce Hinata to the family, Gaara. It's part of procedure."

"Hinata."

She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow, tapping her foot impatiently on the doorstep. "Yes, Hinata. Don't tell me you've forgotten her name after grilling me on kissing tips."

"I haven't forgotten her name." Gaara started to close the door, and she caught of glimpse of a smile. Number two, she absently noted. "But I'm not interested in Hyuuga Hinata."

He what!

"WHAT!"

"I'm not interested in Hyuuga Hinata." He repeated, still smiling through the crack. Behind him she could see sand pouring out of the gourd, swishing around like a swarm of bees, putting everything to rights. In the gloom, it looked extremely creepy. "I never have been, Temari. I will be courting Hyuuga Neji."

- - - - - -

Morning.

Just like he did every day, he reached out to the other side of the bed, but he already knew the presence was gone. Having a teacher for a lover meant he woke up alone in the mornings and had to spend the day by himself. There were up-sides too, of course.

Gaara pushed the blankets off and stared at the ceiling. In retrospect, he probably should have told his sister that he was already living with his, shall we say, intended victim. His eyes strayed to the bottom drawer of his desk, where an innocuous list lay, waiting for its chance to make a big bang. Today seemed to be as good as any other to start.

Shukaku seemed quite happy to help. He could sense the excitement in the sand as it brought him the list, disconcertingly like a giddy teenager. It flowed beside him as he went into the bathroom then out the other door into the living room, where he searched the bookshelves for a slim volume bound in leather: Neji's planner and journal.

He made himself comfortable and flipped it open. An outsider, if one had the means to peek into the seventh-floor apartment and survived getting mauled by hyperactive sand, would have found it very strange indeed. Gaara was not the type to read, or to meticulously cross-reference or research, but here he was, poring over an ordinary planner like it held the secret to life, or more importantly, to love. He was studiously making notes on the back of what seemed to be a list, looking extremely composed, but the frenzied desert behind him said otherwise. Dusters and bits of cloth floated around one part of the haze, while from the kitchen, a clattering arose like the sound of a million dishwashers in the middle of a juggling contest. The sand worked better than battery of maids; the rugs were scoured within an inch of their lives, all the common dust and dirt were politely ushered out and the entire apartment was cleaner than it had ever been and ever would be by the time Gaara was finished. His hand was beginning to cramp, and no wonder. The back of the paper was completely covered in his small, spidery writing and he was itching for a cup of coffee before he delved into his notes, but he was satisfied.

Number three - Discover likes and dislikes, conquered.

- - - - - -

A smile is like a rose, but nothing as fleeting. Some people might think it's the other way around, but I disagree. The beauty of a rose can only last so long before it withers and dies. The right smile can brighten up your day. It can uplift your spirits. It can make you fall in love and stay in your heart forever. The right smile…can do anything.

"Marui, what's this order for Wada Calcium CD3?"

The assistant looked up from the rows of herbal capsules. "It came in this morning, Keigo-san. The dietary supplements are in the next aisle to your left, miss."

The most senior worker and general over-seer of the pharmacy looked down at the Orders list. Maybe he was due for an eye exam. He'd schedule one with Dr. Minagawa as soon as his shift was over. "Are you sure you copied this down right?"

"Yes, Keigo-san. Nicotine patches on the far wall, sir." Maruui turned from yet another customer. "He repeated it quite frequently."

This was unreal. "What could anyone want with this much calcium?"

"Probably wanted to start his own pharmacy, sir." Though why anyone'd volunteer for this headache, I don't know' "Please, ma'am, your children aren't supposed to eat that. It's cat food."

Keigo blinked at the order, a dozen crates of supplementary calcium pills. Even the department store put in an order of only one crate, which held exactly a thousand and five bottles. 'A pharmacy for what?'he wondered. 'Beavers?'

- - - - - -

Every country has a great work of art imbued with history, and countless more are being created everyday. Paintings, sculptures, metalworks…all are marvelous ways to express your feelings. Art is like a song straight from your soul. Everyone knows how to do it, even little children.

Coping with a pile of tests, a handful of paperclips and a mouthful of pens while trying to open your front door was awkward, not to mention downright degrading, but Neji managed to do it. He swung the door open, savoring this minor accomplishment, and dumped his armload on the floor. He regretted it immediately. Apparently, Gaara had gone through another cleaning flash. The furniture gleamed.

Before he even bent down, the sand rushed in with a low drone and rushed straight back out to the bedroom, carrying his paperwork. Ah, the benefits of living with a demon.

"Hyuuga?"

"Tadaima," he said with a smile. It had been a long time since he'd had to announce his presence to anyone that cared, and he was still getting used to it. Passing through the bathroom, he snagged a hairbrush and pulled his hair free of its customary ponytail as he stepped the bedroom.

At least, he thought it was the bedroom. Last time he looked, it hadn't been afloat with markers and it surely didn't harbor a strangely lively snake. He would have remembered. The gourd was leaning against the bed, looking for all the world like a thread spool, and quite understandably so, because right beside it was Gaara, a serious, silent figure carefully winding the snake around the to of the gourd, not seeming to realize that it fell to the floor anyway. The sand, now paperclip-free, wound around his ankles in an almost affectionate way, like it was welcoming him home in place of its master. His eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline. This was very, very strange.

Not that Gaara never did anything strange. Being bizarre was built right into him, and so were creepiness, an inappropriate sense of humor, and curiously enough, saccharine cuteness that emerged at the most peculiar times. He played the piano extraordinarily well and had once written a song about blood and its resemblance to jam. It was so disturbing that Neji silently vowed never to eat any kind of jam ever again, but right after that, Gaara brought home the most pathetic-looking badger and, this was the most important part, didn't kill it. He even looked the slightest bit affronted when his lover tremulously asked what he was going to do it and could he please do it somewhere else. He was going to make it better, he said, and he did a very good job of it too. The badger became the most spoiled animal to ever walk the face of the earth, and it came back every other day just so it would get petted and fed.

Sunset was visible through the open window and the fading light was just enough for him to examine the 'snake'. Gaara must've worked for an enormous amount of time. The extremely colorful paper chain was probably longer than their apartment, indeed, the whole building, and it was covered in circles, stars and smiley faces. Even as he watched, the redhead threaded a piece of paper through a link, meticulously glued it shut, then proceeded to draw a five-pointed flower. Then he made a little moue of disappointment, and started all over again.

The sand, seemingly reading Neji's mind, brought him the end of whatever his lover's latest project was, then actually rose up, like a dog on its heels, waiting to be petted. He had to stifle a chuckle as he ran his hand over it and felt the gritty touch flow over his skin, up over his elbow and across his shoulder, fawning over him and his untidy hair. Gaara's head rose and he snapped something irritably, causing the sand to melt away, sulking.

"Okairi, Hyuuga." He mumbled. He sounded a little jealous.

"And what's gotten into you today, Gaara-chan?" He said, adding the suffix teasingly, his exasperated tone belying the fondness in his touch as he brushed his hand over the red hair much like he had with the sand.

"There's no need to be so condescending." He sounded miffed. "I just can't figure out how to stop." He stared down at his hands; he hadn't even gotten a single paper cut, which he felt detracted from his hours of effort. "It's for you. I heard you liked great works of art, so I made you one."

"It's…um…great indeed, but just the tiniest bit excessive, don't you think? Though I've always said you can't have too much of a good thing, so I guess it's alright." A smile was fighting to emerge, but Neji fought it long enough to bring the two ends together and join them with a last loop. "There. May I ask where you got this…artistic idea?"

"Went to Hokage Tower and tort—asked Naruto."

"I see."

- - - - - -

Fruit is most probably the perfect food for a shinobi. I read somewhere (Probably in Konoha Medical History. Re: must find notes on Vol. 19d) that the shinobi in thispart of the continent have evolved so as to get the maximum benefits of sugar and water, giving them a surreal boost in energy and speed. This is almost certainly because of all the decades of living in the forest. Eating the animals wasn't an option then, because some ate you right back, sometimes from the inside out, so fruit was probably the best choice. Fruits are mainly composed of sugar, water, vitamins and fiber, therefore they are frankly the best energy source for Konoha shinobi. (Must submit a copy of notes on Vol. 1-12, 16-17a, 25 and 38 to Godaime and to Naruto. How he became the Head of Medical Research, I do not know. I'll ask him sometime.)

I just like fruit.

"You went to the market by yourself?"

"I'm not a child, Hyuuga. I am perfectly capable of handling myself in human company without parental support." Green eyes held a hint of pride as they went into the kitchen. "I'm also capable of getting bargains."

Neji's jaw dropped, metaphorically, because actually doing it would be unbecoming, as he eyed a pile of plump red fruit. "But strawberries are out of season." He licked his lips unknowingly, suddenly starving. "How did you get a bargain in the fruit & veg market?" The vendors were notorious there for their disgustingly extravagant prices and equally repulsive products.

"Once I told the man who was selling bananas that I thought they shouldn't be brown, everyone seemed very cooperative." Gaara didn't say that an accompanying seven-foot tower of sand probably helped them put all their best produce out if they wanted to get out of there alive. "I got cherries for free too. They came with the melons." He couldn't hold in his smug satisfaction any longer and pressed a berry to his lover's lips. "Say ah…"

The gentle rushing of the sand filled the sudden silence of the room and the redhead very nearly regretted his actions. It was too soon for this, too soon to be all mushy and cuddly and sweet. If Temari was correct, you had to ease into the relationship slowly, which much thought and planning and, quite possibly, charts and graphs. He always followed instructions to the letter, even though it always came out a little different and sometimes a lot more bloody, and he'd work his ass off to do it right, and doing something like this might have ruined everything before anything actually started…

"You're thinking too much again. I can see it in your face." Neji took the fruit into his mouth, eyes on Gaara's, then slowly chewed and swallowed. Then, with a slight smile, he leaned over and gave his lover a drugging, strawberry-sweet kiss that seemed to last forever.

The night was short, as Neji was tired, but it was a good night. It was a sight to see a flowing desert quarter melons and pears, while Gaara, a perfectionist in every way, peeled grapes. He wouldn't let the brunette do anything, feeding him the finished fruit salad and washing it down with kisses. As they lay in bed, sleepily wrapped in blankets and each other's arms, Gaara had just enough presence of mind to recall his list. Would he manage to follow every painstaking direction? He would, he had to, if that's what it took to bring the Hyuuga's heart to him.

Too bad it never occured to him to ask Neji how he wanted to be courted, or even if he wanted to be courted, but in retrospect, it was better that he didn't. It wouldn't be such a challenge if he did.

- - - - - -

The following morning, a truck arrived from General Pharmaceuticals, bearing a dozen crates of Wada Calcium CD3. Gaara managed to squirrel it away before Neji came down for breakfast, which was more fruit. His lover had completely raided the fruit & veg market and he spent the next week making jam and preserves. The morning also saw a change of décor in Neji's classroom. His students, graduates taking the remedial course for the ANBU exams, inquired about the meters of multicolored paper chains crisscrossing the room. Their teacher smiled mysteriously and said something about the excessive chain of love.

- - - - - -

In your arms, the day is bright

The nights don't seem so long

My mind is at peace

My heart swells with desire

Though the world says no, pull me closer

Wrap me up

With love's excessive chain

And never let me go

- - - -Author's Notes- - - -

And it's done, with a couple more weeks to spare! Yay!

It's kind of rough, I know, and not like my other stuff. That first italic bit is Gaara's thoughts, probably while he was combing his house for paper. The rest are excerpts from Neji's journal. He certainly has a tidy mind, doesn't he?

I'm sorry about the sand. It came out of nowhere. One of the bunnies brought it to me. I know it seems incredibly sappy, but I think its kind of cute. I'm trying to winkle out new ideas, 'coz it's harder to deal with two grown-up silent types than with just one silent type and one hyperactive genki.

Erm, anyway, for those who don't know, Tadaima means "I'm home" and Okairi means "Welcome home".