Disclaimer: No, I do not own Naruto. I really wish I did though. So Gaara can be mine. But he's not. (cries)

Summary: Gaara received an anonymous love letter and searches for the identity of the writer through a game of twenty questions. Who was it?...But more importantly, who did he want it to be? Suddenly, he was conscious of the female population around him and it was confounding. Yamanaka Ino had always been flirty with him, right? Haruno Sakura was madly head over heels with Sasuke, that's why she always asked him to switch seats during break, right? Hyuuga Hinata could possibly be the shyest person he'd met yet, and she blushed when she talked to anyone, right? And Matsuri always packed snacks for everyone on the team and not just him, right?

AU/High-school fic. I am basing this off of the Japanese/Asian school system where high school is 3 years (10-12th grade) and the start of the school year is in April and ends in March (at least that's what google and shoujo mangas tell me…I'm going to stick with it because it works with this timeline).

Chapter 1:

Day 1:

Practice had been a drag that day, taking longer and more effort than usual. Gaara scowled as he flung the duffel bag strap over his shoulder and threw a short gesture to the other guys in the locker room before exiting. He strode quickly through the empty hallway, annoyance growing with every step and the thought to grab some coffee to numb his nerves sounded appealing.

It had been a week since Valentine's Day and every girl that had not been snatched up into a relationship seemed to have convened simultaneously at the soccer club's practices. How convenient that it was also the club with the reigning count of boys who were not in a relationship—two of the main offenders being Hyuuga Neji and Uchiha Sasuke—and because the practices were held outside, it was almost too easy.

The redhead grimaced at the thought of the other two quiet boys on his team. If it wasn't for the fact that they were very proficient and talented players, he would have had to sit them down and break a leg or something to get them benched and off the team.

And though that sounded cruel, Gaara actually had simmered down quite a bit from his rebellious days. It wasn't like he stopped being rebellious; he just did enough to keep himself off the hook and on the team. He kept his hair still blazing red; the new headmaster didn't seem to care much for it, though she did scoff every time she glanced at his forehead.

Gaara didn't care.

He never did.

Nothing had ever kept his attention—that was, until he found the exhilaration of playing soccer. And now his safe haven was being tarnished by the hordes of fangirls screaming and squealing during practice. He nearly missed blocking a trick shot by Sasuke because one of the damned beasts shrieked at the top of her lungs.

Stomping loudly towards his locker, he flung it open to grab the rest of his notebooks.

As soon as he caught sight of the offending object, his hand recoiled immediately. His feet stumbled back slightly as he stared wide-eyed into his locker, holding his breath as if it held an airborne poison. The blood in his veins felt cold and his palms were sweaty.

It couldn't be. It must be a mistake, he mulled it over. Perhaps it was placed in the wrong locker?

Staring invasively back at him was a bright sky blue envelope, complete with a layer of silver glitter clouds.

Gathering his nerves, he reached out for it once again, turning it slightly so he could see the front.

To: Gaara

Oh what the fuckery was this.

Was this some type of sick joke? He never, ever in his life had received a love letter or confession. The only confessions he got are the ones along the lines of him being scary as shit to the other party. His violent reputation kept admirers away, if he had any. Beside the point, being in the same school as Hyuuga Neji and the same class as Uchiha Sasuke for 2 years now had effectively kept him under the radar.

Gaara had paid the female population—and the certain ones from the male population—no heed in the last 16 years of his life. It wasn't that he was asexual, as Kiba puts it; he just hadn't found anyone that interested him. Honestly speaking, he wasn't even sure if he could even grow to love someone. Perhaps be fond of them, but love? That was something foreign.

Now he had two choices—read the letter or toss it.

Given the circumstances, there would be no way it was a confession to him. If it happened to be a love letter, then it was most likely a joke. So either way, it was a waste of time.

Without a second thought, the redhead grabbed the offensively brightly colored letter and crumpled it in his palm before tossing it into a nearby trash can.

Day 2:

Rubbing an eye, he moved slowly towards his locker, dragging his feet along the path. It was way too damn early for practice and the thought crosses his mind—it should be illegal to have back to back practices like this. The turnaround time was too short, not to mention he didn't get much sleep due to his insomniac nature. But the upside to his practice being switched to early mornings was the absence of the fangirls.

Leaning against one side of the locker, he opened the box and grabbed his notebooks to place back inside; keeping only the one he needed at the moment. His hand stopped short and his dry, bleary eyes widened.

To: Gaara (again)

It was a replica of the same damned envelope from yesterday. The bright blue and shimmery glitter of the object nearly blinded him.

What the hell? How was there another letter?

He grabbed the note roughly, crinkling one side of it in his palm. If this was Naruto or Kiba, he was going to make them cry.

It was not funny and he was not amused.

This was a complete waste of his time and energy (and the little amount of emotion he was able to experience). What if he was a weaker man and actually thought this stupid prank was real? Those two idiots needed to grow up.

The hallway was filling up with people by now as the beginning of first period started to creep around the corner. Not quite certain as to why he felt hurried and his pulse quickened but he shoved the letter into his bag hastily.

He made it to his floor and class in record time, still unsure as to why he felt rushed but he just needed to confirm this stupid joke with the other two.

The classroom was littered with students. Breezing past a group of girls in the upper left hand corner by the windows he strode directly to the cluster of four boys lazing about in their respective seats.

"Good morning again, Gaara!" Naruto shouts enthusiastically, not caring as to whose eardrums he was blasting so early in the morning. The usual greetings followed the blond's. Shikamaru yawned, but waved leisurely, Sasuke just glowered in his seat—apparently a morning salutation was too much happiness for the Uchiha—and Kiba snorted, jerking abruptly from being woken up by Naruto's voice.

Nodding at Shikamaru and Sasuke, the redhead turned his gaze to the blond as he sat down and reached over, slapping Kiba awake. A group of girls a few seats away from them glanced over curiously and Gaara gave the brown-haired boy a few more hard raps on the head.

"Ugh-Hey, whoa man. What the hell is up with you?" Kiba groused, quite unhappy about being woken up unexpectedly and then berated.

He ran a hand through his hair before exhaling and slamming the blue parchment onto Naruto's desk.

All four pairs of eyes blinked at it quietly before Sasuke decided to break the ice. "A love letter?" Gaara heard a girl giggle and his eyes darkened. The Uchiha had said that a tad bit too loud.

Of course Uchiha Sasuke would know immediately what it was. He'd probably received millions of them in his short lifetime already.

"Who is it?" Hardened eyes glared daggers at them, mainly the blond and the fanged-boy.

The four boys turned to him, curiosity and confusion playing across their features.

"Who is what?" Naruto furrowed his eyebrows, emitting very convincingly innocence, "It's for you, right? It has your name on it." He gestured at the elaborate 'Gaara' and heart drawn in a swirling, round, and girlish handwriting.

Oh, but Gaara would not be fooled. He had grown up with the blond, idiotic troublemaker. And if he knew a thing about the Uzumaki, the blond had called himself the prankster king when they were younger. Though Naruto claimed to have matured out of it, Gaara can beg to differ. There are just some things that will never change.

"I know that." He growled and Shikamaru stared at him questioningly, "Which one of you wrote this? Who wrote this?"

Kiba's jaw dropped, before he doubled over in laughter, "What?! What makes you think one of us wrote that?!" He made a move for the letter but Gaara pulled it out reach. "C'mon man, I didn't write it. I shit you not."

"Serious."

"Foreals, man. Was there a name signed at the bottom?"

Ignoring, Kiba's question, he rounded on Naruto instead. The blond was the only other culprit he had in mind. "Naruto?" His tone left no room for games and whiskered boy shrank in his seat nervously.

"It-It wasn't me, I swear!"

"Are you sure?" The way Naruto was sweating in his seat had Gaara bit dubious of legitimacy of his statement.

"Yes!" Naruto quivered, he'd been on the receiving end of one of Gaara's moods before and it was not pleasant, he knew exactly when the redhead would snap. "It would be mean, that kind of joke! I would never! And never, ever, ever, never to you! Plus, do you think I could even write that pretty? And I don't own any pens or paper in that color! Gaara, please believe me—"

At a certain point in Naruto's self-proclamation of innocence, he had stopped listening. His gaze settled on the crumpled letter laying on top of the desk, some glitter chipping off of the clouds drawn on it. Cringing slightly, he realized that there was probably glitter in his bag now. And glitter was like the devil's art work. You could never get rid of it.

"Okay." He muttered lamely, still staring at the abomination. Naruto and Kiba were like open books when they were scared. If they said it wasn't them, then it wasn't and he believed them. But that left him shit out of luck. Who could it be?

Naruto paused in mid-sentence. "Okay?"

The redhead nodded, snatching the letter back up and returned to his seat—which actually was diagonal to the blond. "Yeah. Just forget about it then if it wasn't you."

Blue eyes blinked at him questionably. "Uh, okay…" Before they narrowed and Naruto's brain finally caught up with the situation. "Wait, who did it say it was from?"

Gaara paused in mid-movement.

He hadn't even thought of opening up the letter. It never occurred to him that there could be a name—an identity signed at the bottom. "I haven't read it."

"What?!" Naruto and Kiba chorused, both mocking a heartbroken, fainting girl and Kiba continued to complain. "And you were blaming it on us?! How could you think so lowly of us?! C'mon, you have to read it out loud to the rest of us now. It's retribution for jumping to conclusions."

The corners of his lips dipped down, thinning out as he frowned at the brown-haired boy's accusation. His business was already in the limelight for too long, he didn't want to have to embarrass himself even more. "No."

"Oh don't be a spoil sport! Read it to us, Gaara!" Kiba whined and the redhead resisted the urge to actually hit the boy.

"Just leave it, Kiba." Shikamaru sighed, speaking up for the first time. The whining was most likely irritating the lazy genius. "It's private, plus you don't want to embarrass the girl by reading her confession out loud to these idiots. Just tell them at the end who it is, if you want to."

Both Kiba and Naruto faltered at the reasoning, but put up no further fight. From what Gaara can tell, Sasuke was feigning indifference—but he knew the dark-haired boy was interested. Could Gaara have stolen one of his fangirls?

No way.

Wait.

The redhead wanted to slap himself.

What the hell was he doing? Mulling over a letter like a lovesick school girl. What the actual fuck.

He just needed to read the damn thing, turn the girl down, and go back to his normal routine. Gaara had already wasted enough time and energy on this one thing.

Hooking a finger under the flap, he tore open the envelope and pulled out the stationary folded up inside. Straightening out the crumpled and lined blue paper inside, he sniffed slightly.

Was the damned thing perfumed?

Ugh.

Trying to ignore the light lavender scent—how the hell did he even know it was lavender, he had no clue, he scanned through the letter.

Hello Gaara. Thank you so much for having the patience to open up and read this letter, it really does mean a lot to me. I figured you probably threw out the first letter thinking it was a joke, but hopefully this one gets to you. Before you suddenly skim towards the bottom to find out who wrote this so you can effectively shut me down, I'm going to tell you straight up, I'm not telling you who I am.

Oh what the holy hell did that mean? What in the world was this letter then?! His non-existent eyebrows furrowed and he continued to read.

I'm not being cruel or anything by that way. I want to tell you that I like you and that I've liked you for awhile now.

His eyes shot upwards from the letter and his grip tightened, crushing the note in his hands minutely. He met a set of baby blues and she stared back at him curiously. Sitting next to the blue-eyed Yamanaka Ino, Haruno Sakura and the Hyuuga princess also shot him inquisitive glances. His erratic behavior must be baffling to them.

It was just as perplexing to him as well.

This literally was a love letter to him!

Part of him just wanted to crush the entire thing in his hands and be good riddance with it. The writer already stated that she or he—though from the entirety of the mail so far, a girl would be the most likely answer—would not be including their identity. So what use was it to him to keep reading?

But…a part of him was kind of interested in where it was leading.

It was his first letter and who knows, it could pretty much be the only letter he'll receive in his lifetime.

What if it was a joke, though? Part of his brain poked. What if some girls thought it would be funny to get you all riled up and interested?

His eyes flickered back to the group of whispering girls in the corner in front of them. It could definitely be a viable answer.

Had he done something to be awarded with such a cruel trick? Racking his brain for answers, he came up with none. He had never gone out of his way to make a girl feel bad—in actuality, he'd made it his life goal to never cross paths with one unless absolutely necessary. They were just trouble.

And this was exactly where he was right now. In trouble. The little voice in his head urged him to continue reading, and he obliged. Perhaps the remainder of the letter will settle his nerves and he can have a good solitary laugh later.

You caught my eye during a biology lab when you blew up a mixing beaker by turning the spin on too fast and too hot, and then blamed it on Naruto. It was childish, but it was adorable. Though you're quiet, I know there's a humorous, kind, and intelligent person beneath that prickly exterior. Ever since then, you've been on my mind and I've been trying to get your attention and ask you out on a date to get to know you better. But that didn't work since you were always accompanied (or walked too fast). So it's been two years and this is the only way I figured I can get you to notice me.

Okay…

He blinked.

Two years. Since biology lab.

It's been that long? And where the hell was this person going with the letter? So she has his attention now, but if she wasn't going to tell him who she was, how was that of any help?

Girls were stupid; he figured but his eyes betrayed him and flew onto the next sentence.

You'll probably turn me down immediately, whether or not you know me. That's why I am not telling you my name at this time.

He mentally rolled his eyes. Of course he was. He wasn't interested—and he was definitely not interested in someone he didn't know at all and had just been watching him for two years. That's a bit creepy.

So let's play a game, shall we?

What? He was not going to play some stupid game with some idiotic girl who claims she's interested in him. Feelings were fleeting and he had no time to be invested in something so intangible. The final season was around the corner and by next year, he'll be a senior so he wouldn't be able to play anymore. This year—this season meant more than he could fathom.

But the curiosity of what the girl wanted gnawed at him and he kept on reading.

It'll be almost be like twenty questions. You get to ask me one question a day (via letter) and I'll ask you one question a day. That way, you'll get to know about me, and I get to talk (figuratively) to you! Everybody wins! So at the end of twenty days, if you play this fairly with me, you can choose a meeting place and time and I'll confess to you.

Until that time, I hope that you don't make a rash decision about me and we can use this chance to get to know each other.

This way, I am hoping that you come to like me for me and not from appearances or what you have heard or know from others. And if it comes to that time and you still find no attraction towards me whatsoever, at least I can say I tried.

Since I'm being benevolent (hehe), you can ask the first question and start this off! The rules are simple: you can ask any question you feel like with the exception of my identity! (Because that's no fun)…

Since it's suspicious of me to always have to patrol your locker, you can go ahead and leave your letters in the library tucked in the sheet music for Antonio Vivaldi between winter and spring movements when you come arrive at school for morning practice. I'll reply and deliver you the letter at my own convenience throughout the day. Sounds good? I hope so! Looking forward to exchanging letters with you, Gaara!

XOXO

Staring blankly at the piece of paper, he blinked a couple more times before his eyes roamed to the top of the page and he reread the contents over again. Somehow, it just didn't make sense. The entire scenario was preposterous and he wanted to rule it as a terrible prank. But there was an underlying sense of sincerity emitting from the letter and he couldn't shake it off.

But did she really think he would take time to write a reply, a question, and then deliver it to such a place? Who even went into the music section of the library? There were only a select few, and most of them were odd to him. Maybe he could stake out at the site and find the perpetrator?

That would be a foolish waste of time on his end though.

Glancing up at the clock, he noticed that the rest of the class had been situated but their teacher was still not present. Obviously. Kakashi-sensei was known to be late.

Reaching around carefully, he folded the letter up the way it had been and tucked it back in the blasphemously bright envelope and unceremoniously stuffed it into his bag without another word.

If he chose to ignore it, then it never happened, right?

Turning to his left slightly, he was met with several curious gazes. Naruto and Kiba sat at the edge of their seats, eyebrows gaggling at him. Even Sasuke, while leaning his chin on one hand had the audacity to blink a few times at him.

Finally, without better knowledge, Kiba broke the ice. "Well? What did it say? Who was it?" He tapped his fingers against the desk eagerly.

"There was no name."

The two boys pouted, crestfallen from the lack of information.

Shikamaru narrowed his eyes. "Then what did the writer want?"

Leaning back into his seat, he shrugged. "To play twenty questions. Something along the lines of getting to know each other better." Emerald eyes started to scan the inhabitants of the classroom. Before, he hadn't noticed the skewed ratio of girls to boys, now he definitely did. The class was approximately 60% girls and they hadn't switched that many students between his first and second year.

He could hear a soft "Hn" coming from Sasuke, signaling that it was quite a new and interesting concept in terms of fangirl letters.

"That sounds fun." Naruto interjected, trying to reach over and grab Gaara's bag for the note. The redhead used his foot to move it further away. "Are you going to play it?"

"No." He replied flatly, eyes still roaming over his classmates. Now who could it be? "It's a waste of time."

Naruto and Kiba started to protest, trying to convince him to give up the letter to them through sheer annoyance. Tuning them out, he turned his attention back to the sea of females milling about in their seats and chatting with one another.

Then his eyes trailed a bit further to the left, the group of girls near the window he had passed by earlier.

He knew them, acquaintances, would be the correct term. Throughout the two years, minimal words were exchanged and he was cordial to them as they were to him. Which wasn't much to say. The Hyuuga princess was madly in love with Naruto. The other two, Haruno Sakura and Yamanaka Ino were the professed vice-president and president of the Uchiha Sasuke fanclub.

"I think you should play it."

As if his non-existent eyebrows could raise any further and he turned around to face the nonchalant Uchiha. "What makes you say that?"

Uchiha Sasuke placed his hands together carefully and scowled. "Because if you ignore them, they get psycho. Fangirls, tch." Ah, that reminded him of the one girl that went as far as trying to snag a lock of the Uchiha's hair. Of course, Haruno and Yamanaka caught wind of it and took care of the nuisance quickly.

"That's true." Shikamaru sighed sadly. "Girls are troublesome. You might as well do as she requests before it doesn't become a request anymore."

He pursed his lips to retort back but paused, these were the two smartest guys in the room—one having quite a few experiences with rapid admirers already. If anything, they knew better than him.

Sighing in defeat, he turned back around to face the front and slapped one arm on the table grumpily. Great. Now he had to play some childish game with some crazy fangirl in hopes that she wouldn't go fanatical on him.

Now, what should he ask her? What could he ask her?

What questions could possibly help him clue together the identity of the writer?

His eyes roamed back across the classroom and he suddenly felt so aware. So conscious of the random, silent, and secretive glances being shot his way.

A dark-haired girl to his far right looked the other way as soon as his gaze turned to her. It was odd since Kin was not the type to be shy or coy like that. Maybe she didn't intentionally mean to stare at him.

The cheeky redhead, previous from Kumo, giggled softly to her friend and then the both of them glanced in his direction, smirking. Her name was Karui or something, he desperately made through his mind bank.

In the front, a girl with glasses turned around to pass a paper behind, her crimson eyes flitting quickly in his direction before she situated herself to face front again. Karin was Uchiha Sasuke's Crazy Fangirl Number 3.

And to his left in front, loud laughter caught his attention. His eyes flitted over in time to see Sakura point in his general direction and Hinata blushing wildly.

What? Must be Naruto…or Sasuke

A rookie mistake, he kept his gaze lingering too long and the blonde twisted in his direction from across the room, shocking sapphire orbs locked onto his and she flashed him a wide smile before fixating her attention back on the other two girls.

What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On.

Teeth grinding in irritation, it dawned on him. The task was harder than it seemed. And somehow, it felt like every girl in class was out to get him. Had it always been this way and he never noticed—or was it because now he was too self-conscious to think straight?

As if sensing his impending doom, Kakashi-sensei strolled through the doorway and waved leisurely at the class.

"Hey everyone! Sorry I'm late. I was caught up—"

"ENOUGH WITH THE LIES! YOU HAD US WAIT FOREVER!" Naruto and Sakura screeched at the top of their lungs, cutting the silver-haired man in mid-sentence. Acting as if it was normal occurrence, which it was, Kakashi-sensei dully ignored the two and made his way towards the board.

Gaara muttered darkly to no one in particular. It was going to be a long day.

Day 3:

The entire notion of the game was silly and childish. Lips thinned into a tight frown at the piece of paper with his handwriting scrawled over it.

He would concede to this ridiculously trivial pastime of hers.

Rolling over and admitting defeat without a fight, however, was not his style. So he made it into his own challenge—he would ask questions that would help induce his deduction of her identity. He wasn't going to wait at the music section to catch her in the act. That would be an incredible waste of time. Gaara was going to turn the tables on her, using her own game.

Firstly, he needed to figure out how conniving she actually was—that the game was not an intelligent fluke. That would assist in weeding out the possibilities.

To: XOXO

To say that I am shocked to have received your letter was an understatement. However, what makes you think that I will agree to play such a ridiculous game with you?

Slapping the music booklet shut, he glanced around surreptitiously before he strode down the aisles and waved his way out of the library.

He noticed on his way out, that there was no familiar face—not one person in the entire library at that time was in his class, or had been in his class. Giving it no more thought, he increased his gait and strode off to practice.

End Chapter 1

Thank you for reading!

-Aya Kazuki-