*~*~*~*Author's Corner*~*~*~*

Arashi: This is the second story that I adopted with permission from BoomBoom31. I hope you enjoy this story. Disclaimers-I don't own Naruto. I just wish I did.

*~*~*~*Author's Corner*~*~*~*

Summary-Gaara had always been able to control the sand that called to him. What happens when Gaara gets caught in the act at his new high school?

NejiGaara

________________________________________________________________________

Gaara glanced at his glowing clock.

7:00.

Perfect. The red-head stood up and tried to find some clean clothes in his armoire. His room was not exactly natural. Instead of a bed, he had a couch- Gaara didn't do the whole 'sleeping' thing. Instead of a desk, he had a black bean-bag chair that was filled with sand. And instead of a closet, he had an armoire.

Finding a black long-sleeve shirt with mesh cuffs and collar along with black pants, Gaara got dressed. After getting decent, he attempted to find his backpack that had a raccoon keychain on the zipper (which was full of Tupperware that contained oatmeal cookies because they were freaking delicious) and small gourd. His gourd was about the length of a forearm and about a hand width wide. It had a white strap attached to it that Gaara slung low on his hips. The gourd contained sand. Ever since he was little he could ask the sand to do things. When his siblings found out about his abilities, they freaked out. Imagine, a five-year-old sitting in a sand box, wiggling his fingers softly at a small dancing sand figurine, saying that the sand was his friend. Temari nearly had an aneurism. His siblings made him promise not to tell anyone about his abilities. Gaara, however, still played with the sand when he was bored. Sometimes you could see him in class, creating little, hand-height, sand ballerinas that danced upon his desk.

Trumping down the narrow staircase of his house, he saw his brother face down in a bowl, sleeping, holding a knife. On closer inspection, the bowl was full of orange juice and raw oats for oatmeal. Giving his brother his oh-so-famous blank stare, Gaara walked into the kitchen and grabbed an energy drink from the rows and row that they had in refrigerator. Give them a break, it was three teenagers and two twenty-year-olds living in a house with absolutely no parental supervision, what do you think they'll eat? Nutritious meals full of vitamins and minerals? Pft. Yeah. Sure. Cracking open his energy drink, Gaara sat at the table, sipping his drink, staring at his unconscious older brother. His brother was in his violent red boxers and a backwards, inside-out black tee-shirt. Including his face-down-in-bowl-of-orange-juice-and-oats posture and the fact that he was holding a knife, he was an amusing picture.

He heard a series of loud thuds and bangs upstairs. Ahh. His sister was awake. His sister was a loud-mouthed blonde that stated her opinion- whether it was offensive or unwanted was not a problem in her eyes. She was the eldest of the siblings, therefore the bossiest. She had also taken to making sure that her two younger brothers wouldn't get in trouble, because she knew their cousin and his boyfriend sure as hell wouldn't. Their cousin, Sasori, took after Gaara in looks. He was short with red hair and green eyes. He was missing the large insomnia-induced black circles around the eyes though. He was always insulting all of them and toying with their lives. He was kind of depressing, but still annoying. He liked to make jokes. About people. It was hilarious when you weren't the one getting picked on. His boyfriend, however, kept him in check, curbing him from saying or doing anything particularly nasty. This saint's name was Deidara. He was a peppy little blonde with a dark sense of humor and wicked wit. He kept his hair constantly in a pony tail and had his left eye covered all the time. The two of them were in a university level of schooling, both working part time jobs to house everyone. In fact, everyone except Gaara had a part time job to keep the bills at bay. It wasn't that Gaara was lazy, or didn't want to help, it's just that every job that Gaara applied to turned him down.

Gaara's head turned towards the stairs as his blonde sister stomped down the stairs.

"Kankuro! Get your dolls out of my fuckin' way!" Kankuro, Gaara's brother, snorted into his 'cereal' and yelled back "They're not dolls! They're puppets!" and promptly fell back into his sad attempts at breakfast. It was a reflex. Ever since Kankuro got interested in puppets, he's gotten crap about his 'dolls' and how he was girly for playing with them. Though, some of his puppets were freaking scary. One puppet shot poison darts out of the finger tips, and it rattled in a spine tingling way when it was controlled. Those things were anything but dolls.

"Gaara? How do you make toast?" Temari said, looking into the refrigerator for toast.

Gaara gave her an expressionless stare before pointing to the bread-box, then to the toaster as if saying 'are you retarded?' Temari blinked and an embarrassed 'oh.' slipped from her lips. Today Temari was wearing a blue dress with a darker blue obi-like sash around her waist, a weird apron like appendage, a blue skirt and assorted fishnet touches. She had her own style that was frighteningly preppy and gothic at the same time, however her kick ass attitude gave her an athletic appearance and her opinions we that of a loner's. She didn't really hang out with a particular group, she just floated in between groups. His brother however, only hung out with the punks and drama kids because of his fascination with puppetry and his anti-regulation beliefs. Gaara, well… Gaara didn't hang out with anybody. Nobody really liked him all that much. Most of the time they would all just stay away from him; however there was still that one jerk every once and a while that would make the mistake of bothering him. That person got his ass kicked. And a few people that said hi to him out of fear… but those people don't count. However wherever he was, there was always this tall brunette guy.

Gaara's stalker was tall with white eyes and had a faint green tattoo of two horizontal hooks pointing to an X. His head was bandaged along with his right arm and leg. He was the star soccer player, Hyuuga Neji. Wherever Gaara was, Neji was in the back-round. Gaara hated his guts.

Gaara stared at his two siblings, picking at his energy drink's tab. An awkward silence ensued. Gaara was a fan of awkward moments. They were enjoyable to cause. After a while, Temari finished eating her toast. She glanced at Gaara before chucking her empty plate at Kankuro yelling 'Get up! We're leaving in 5 minutes!'. Kankuro lifted his head and asked where he was.

"You're in the kitchen sleeping in oats an orange juice. Now go get your ass ready. We're leaving in 5." Temari said, shouldering her backpack from the front hall and slipping on blue sandals. Gaara picked up his black backpack and slung it onto his back, placed on a pair of ratty, worn down converse, and began searching for his keys in a small bowl that was full of junk. Kankuro swore before running up the stairs. A few loud bangs later and a shout that was defiantly from an irritable, sleepy red head ("Shut the fuck up! Classes don't start till 10 for us!") Kankuro came running down the stairs in jeans and a sweatshirt rubbing his face with a towel. It seems like he had stuck his oat-caked face under the sink.

"Temari! Do we have time for you to put my face on?" Kankuro had an obsession with wearing Kabuki make-up regularly. Temari shook her head before dragging her brother out the door telling Gaara to be careful. You see, Temari and Kankuro took an old beat up car to school that didn't have a roof as the result of a prank, some guys welded the doors shut for kicks and it was painted three different colors depending on which part you were looking at. It was a two-seater and since it didn't have a roof, Temari had decided that they shouldn't try to cram more people than the car was built for. Gaara took a sleek, narrow, racing motorcycle to school because they didn't have enough money to buy another car. The sleek motorcycle was sand colored with black inlays, it was pre-owned so it had some custom work put into it. Gaara placed on his black all-around helmet and sped off in the direction of school.

Coming around the bend into the school parking lot, Gaara's eyes widened as he saw a tall boy with long, dark hair and white eyes in the middle of the road crouching to pick up papers that had fluttered from his grasp. The boy's eyes turned from the scattered papers and widened. Gaara swore. He swerved at cut the engine, sliding to a stop inches from the wide-eyed boy. Ripping off his helmet, Gaara gave the boy a hard stare.

"Do you bathe in stupid? Next time a speeding vehicle is heading your way, jump out of the mother fucking street!" Gaara said in a rough voice. The boy's eyes narrowed into a glare. He resumed picking up his papers before standing up and looking Gaara straight in the eye. Gaara secretly swore as he saw that the guy was about a foot taller than him and none other than the resident soccer-star, Neji Hyuuga.

"Maybe you shouldn't be going 80 in a school parking lot!" The soccer-star snapped back at him, organizing his papers in his hands.

"Maybe you shouldn't sit in the street." Gaara replied in a monotone, dismounting his bike and rolling it into a parking space with ease.

"Do you have any idea who you're talking to?" Neji Hyuuga said in a condescending tone. Gaara gave him an emotionless stare before answering.

"Yes. I do. I'm talking to a self-centered soccer-brat that can have anything he wants." At this Neji Hyuuga gasped at Gaara's lack of respect for him. Gaara just merely smirked a creepy little smirk before brushing past the stuck up soccer-star and into the school. Shoving everything into his locker except for his sand, Gaara made his way to homeroom. He didn't even give the teachers an illusion that he was going to actually work by bringing materials to class, he just went to his classes and played with his sand. The teachers never stopped him because they never noticed and he was making straight A+'s anyway. They just ignored him. Speaking of sand, he uncorked his mini-gourd and started quietly playing with the little grains of sand inside. He created a small ballerina and made it dance across his desk. Since he was in the back of the class, nobody could see him. Besides… the sand called to him if he didn't use it. It was hypnotic, an addiction if you will. He needed to play with his sand. He needed it.

However, today was not his lucky day, in fact… this was the day his perfect little illusion shattered. A substitute teacher was taking over for the class and she had spotted him.

"You! What are you doing?" Gaara's head snapped up to see the teacher pointing at him, her eyes wide in fear, as the rest of the class turned to see what she was talking about. Gaara's eyes widened in fear. Oh shit. His ballerina stopped mid twirl and dropped into a pile of sand. But it was too late, the class had seen his small display of power.

This was bad. Now they would send him off to some laboratory in a foreign country to be experimented on. A thousand excuses flashed through his head to try and explain what had happened to make it seem like it wasn't him doing it.

"You! I a-asked you a question! What were you doing? How- How did you do that?!"

Gaara's eyes widened again, his mind coming up blank. With no answer, the teacher said the worst thing she could have possibly said.

"I should report this! You should be in a lab you monster! That's not natural! You need to be fixed!" She shouted, pointing at him. His eyes widened yet again before narrowing, zeroing in on the teacher. He swung his hand in a sweeping motion in front of him as he stood up. Sand flew out of the gourd, fixing itself against her mouth.

"No! Don't you fucking say a word!" Gaara yelled in his rough voice, scared out of his mind. The teacher stumbled backwards, pulling on the hardened sand in vain. The rest of the class was paralyzed with fear. He didn't want to be sent away! He wasn't doing anything wrong! He never hurt anybody on purpose! He didn't want to move again! They whole family had moved because of him last time… he had scared everyone so badly in Suna with his sand that they had to move. And after that, they had to move again because of Gaara's carelessness. He didn't want to cause his family any more grief. At this point, Gaara was shaking, backing away from the startled looks of his classmates. Suddenly, a particularly brave and stupid blond-haired, blue-eyed student picked up a stapler and chucked it at Gaara, who knocked it aside using the rest of the sand in his gourd with the wave of his other hand. He became even more disturbed. Flinging more sand at everyone, he pinned their hands down to desks or floors and some even to walls. He heard the blonde cry out in pain after a loud snap was heard. Gaara broke his hand.

"Stop it! I'm normal! I'm normal you hear! Normal! Forget what you saw! It never happened!" he yelled, sounding like he was trying to convince himself rather than the class. He held his head, shaking it back and forth, before sprinting out the door, sand following him.

"Gaara! Gaara! Are you okay? Shit! What happened?" A familiar blonde yelled, turning to face her brother as he ran by her. Suddenly a flurry of sand passed her and she understood what had happened.

"Gaara. It's okay! As long as you didn't hurt anyone you're fine! Its okay! You're normal! We can move if you like…" Temari tried to console him. He looked back and shook his head wildly.

"I messed up again. I… I broke someone's hand…Don't… don't worry though. We don't have to move again. Just… tell Kankuro. I'm going home." Temari gasped before giving her brother a sad smile and nodding. He gave her a parting blank stare as he continued to run out of the school and all the way home.

Slamming the door behind him, he ran headlong into his taller cousin. Rebounding off of his relative, he side stepped him and ran up to his room, slamming that door again. Sasori sighed. He turned around and trudged into the kitchen, pointing towards Gaara's room at his boyfriend, who understood and followed him.

"Gaara?" Sasori asked, knocking on the door. He looked at Deidara in worry at the lack of response before trying the door. It was locked.

"Is this Gaara alright, un?" Deidara asked a little louder than Sasori, running a hand through his hair, revealing a mechanical eye, before releasing his hair. Again receiving no response, Deidara sighed before kicking the door in. Sasori sweat dropped at Deidara's destruction of the door.

"I asked if you were alright, un! Answer me when I talk to you, uuuuun!" He whined walking in. He opened his eye and gasped. Inside Gaara was sitting on top of a large pile of sand which was currently grinding itself into his bleeding forehead. Sasori shouted out his surprise and ran up to Gaara, whacking away the sand from his forehead and covering the wound with his hand so the sand couldn't get to him. The sand began grinding into

Sasori's hand making him cringe.

"Dei-dei! Go get something to fix this! A first aid kit or some shit like that!" Sasori yelled waving his free hand at Deidara. He turned his head back to Gaara and shook him,

"Gaara! What the hell happened? Talk to me, damnit! Stop the sand! It's hurting me!" At the last statement Gaara's closed eyes opened and the sand dropped from the air.

"I'm sorry." Gaara stated softly. Sasori took one look at Gaara's face and pieced together what happened.

"Again?" Sasori asked harshly. Gaara's eyes squeezed shut before nodding, crawling backwards away from his livid cousin. "Gaara! We can't afford to move again! Stop doing it! We've moved four times because of you! We're already in debt and you keep making it worse! So stop this abnormal shit before I send you away!" Gaara let out a sob, curling in on himself, the sand cradling him. Addicting. It was addicting. The feel of sand on his skin. The sand whispering to him. Asking him to play. Addicting.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! It won't happen again! You don't have to change anything! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, daddy!" Sasori gasped at Gaara's slip of the tongue. He mentally kicked himself. Of course Gaara would say that. He had practically yelled at the kid for things he couldn't control. Sasori felt horrible. He had promised himself that he would be better than his uncle. His uncle, Gaara's dad, had verbally and physically abused Gaara for his abilities since they developed. Monster. Freak. Killer. Those were a few of Gaara's nicknames that his father bestowed upon him. Sasori could never forget the time he had slept over at their house when Gaara was about 7.

Flashback…

Sasori sighed, laying down on his futon in Gaara's room. The small boy was pulling on his little red footy pajamas, tripping over himself in the process. When the small boy was done, he grabbed his stuffed bear sitting on the floor and crawled under the bed. A few minutes passed.

"Gaara? Why are you sleeping under there?" Sasori questioned.

"Daddy says monsters sleep under the bed."

Flashback End…

Sasori snapped out of La-La Land.

"Ah shit. Uhm… comm'ere. There… there… uhm… I'm not mad? Uh… it's okay…" He said, motioning towards himself in an awkward way. Gaara looked up skeptically. Sasori made an impatient noise, causing Gaara to lean forward a little bit. Gaara timidly leaned forward into Sasori's chest. Sasori awkwardly placed his arms around Gaara, trying to console him. They were both awkward with this position, but the seriousness of the situation shattered when Deidara walked into the room.

"Aww! You guys look so freaking adorable, un! You look like you actually like each other, un!" Deidara cooed from the door, pointing at Gaara and Sasori from the door with one arm, clutching medical supplies with the other. Gaara blushed, pushing his face into his cousin's shoulder. Sasori gave Deidara a look that said 'was-that-really-necessary?' and motioned for him to get his ass over there. Deidara smiled as he walked over to the two. He dropped all of his supplies on the floor, and started to carefully bandage Gaara's bloody forehead. When Gaara's injury was tended to, Deidara moved onto Sasori's bloody hand. All through which Deidara was babbling away, talking about anything and everything, hardly stopping to breathe. It was comforting. It was better than silence.

"… and then that jerk face had the audacity to give me decaf! Decaf, un! So I stand up and-"

"Dei-dei?" Gaara's rough voice rang out, interrupting Deidara's monologue.

"Hn?"

"I'm fine now." Deidara's face broke out in a slow smile before nodding and brushing a lock of hair out of Gaara's face.

________________________________________________________________________

Arashi: I hope you guys will like this story. ^^ Please read and review.