Short little story I'm sticking up because I feel bad about not updating anything else. In my defense, my studies are drowning me ...
Hope someone gets a giggle out of this.
As a safety measure, I feel called upon to point out that "latte" is not copyrighted; it is in the dictionary, and thus in the public domain, available for public use.
I do not own any of the characters written about in this story, nor do I make money off of them.
Set a bit after the "Capture Shukaku" arc in Naruto: Part I.
Green Tea Latte
The coffee shop was warm-colored, closed off from the cold blue world outside. The difference was surprising; tumbled white and grey on the ground gave way to strong flat planes of wood at the doorway, the twilight sky beyond the window untouched by the light that filled the room. Spices and sweet scents hung in the air; the glass showcase near to Gaara shone with lamplight.
He pulled his gloves from his hands, rubbed them together. Konoha was different from Suna, with its brilliant brightness and cool respites, small shops huddled deep inside the walls. Different, too, was the atmosphere; where everyone in Suna knew his name, and feared it, most of Konoha did not. Gaara knew well the effect he could have on a noisy crowd in Suna, just by walking by. In contrast, Konoha was relaxed, calm; and by being so, helped make him so. We draw from our surroundings; the stress of others weighs heavily upon our shoulders; and Gaara took a moment to think about that last thought, to think about the way "our" had come to his mind so readily, shared experience, I feel what you feel, both of us human . . .
"What is that?"
Gaara looked up, startled from his reverie. Naruto, leaning practically over his shoulder, was gaping at the cup in front of him.
"What?" he asked.
"That --" Naruto jabbed a finger at the cup, "it's green!"
Gaara inspected the liquid. The assessment was correct; it was indeed green.
"I mean --" Naruto had taken a quick look at Gaara's face, and was hastily backtracking, "there's nothing wrong with liking green stuff, but -- I mean -- that looks kinda . . ."
"Radioactive?" Kankuro, peering around Gaara's other side, hands shoved into his pockets, looked amused. "You sure you wanna drink that, Gaara?"
Well, yes, he was. He had ordered it, after all.
"I had not thought it would be green," Gaara spoke his thought aloud, drawing attention from Temari and Matsuri, who had come over with more drinks, "but it is logical that it is."
"Suit yourself." Kankuro drew away from him, plunked himself down by the window. Gaara watched him tug off his headpiece and run a hand through his hair, yawning. "Gah, it's hot in here. Tell me how that tastes, bro."
Gaara carefully picked up the cup. Its paper insulator fit a little awkwardly in his small hands; through it, he could feel the muted warmth of the cup, the faint dampness of it.
He took a sip--
--And nearly spit it back out.
"AH -- oh man!" Naruto was laughing wildly, immediately. "Man! Did you see his face, Kankuro?"
Kankuro had snorted into his drink, and was now recovering by a vigorous mix of coughing and laughing. Even Matsuri, so serious and shy, had cracked a smile.
"Is that too hot, Gaara?" Temari reached for the cup, pausing to look up at him; Gaara nodded to show that it was okay if she took it, and she picked it up quickly. "Did you burn yourself?"
He shook his head, and watched her turn the cup curiously in her hands, peering at it.
"Nah, not hot -- just radioactive." Kankuro waved off the tail end of his laughing spree, plucked the cup from her hands, and sniffed it. Gaara watched his face crinkle, the lines of paint, smudged from the long day fold into themselves about his eyes. "Gah -- smells like fish."
Naruto had been calming down; he started laughing again when Gaara gave him a curious look. "Oh, man -- you should have seen yourself, Gaara, your nose wrinkled up and everything."
Matsuri took a small bite of her cookie, watching Gaara's face. "What did that taste like, Gaara?"
"I . . ." Gaara frowned at the drink. "I don't know." He thought for a moment, while Kankuro handed the cup back to Temari to smell. "Like vegetables."
"Really?" Temari sniffed the cup. "Mind if I taste it, Gaara?"
He shrugged. "No."
She raised it and took a small sip; and nearly choked. Gaara watched her eyes water and squint, the tears catching onto her blond lashes. Matsuri helped her fumble for the cup, for she had nearly dropped it.
"Ok," Kankuro held up a napkin for her with a chuckle, over the din of new laughter, "now I gotta try this."
They watched him bring the cup to his mouth, Temari, still rather pink-faced and wiping at her lips. Gaara paid close attention to the way Kankuro's eyes fell halfway shut, the way his chest hitched when he suddenly drew it away.
"Damn, that's bad." he managed, half laughing. "Oh, man. You're right, Gaara. This stuff is awful. What do you think, Mat?"
He offered it teasing to Matsuri, who sniffed and drew back, black eyes wary.
"It does smell like fish," she ventured.
Gaara watched Kankuro grin, but he drew the cup back from her. "Haddock, do you think?"
She nodded. Temari took a long mouthful of her own chai latte, and then held it out to Gaara, who accepted with a nod. The rush of spices was a welcome distraction from the taste of the green drink.
"Thank you," he mumbled, handing the cup back to her.
"Sure, no problem." Temari gave him a kind smile, the kind of smile Gaara usually recieved from her when thanking her or doing something similar. "If you want anymore, take it."
"I'm okay."
Naruto, next to him, was taking the infamous cup from Kankuro. Gaara turned his attention to the blond ninja as he took a rather large mouthful, and watched his face redden before he choked it out.
"Oh, gross!"
Kankuro snickered, shoving a napkin at him. "It's yours now, brat."
"No!"
"Oh, don't be a wuss."
"You don't mind, Gaara?" Temari asked, a little worriedly, her voice sobering Kankuro's smile. Gaara looked from her, to Kankuro, who had frozen just a little bit, and to Naruto, who was dripping green tea latte all down his front.
"No," he said, "you keep it."
"S'long as you can bear to part with it, man," Naruto choked out, wiping at his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, Gaara saw Temari and Kankuro relax, the latter giving himself a small shake.
"You want another one, Gaara?" Temari asked quickly, reaching for her purse. "Um ..."
"I'll buy it," Kankuro reached for his own.
They're concerned, Gaara thought, watching the argument over who would pay for his drink unfold. And they want me to be happy . . .
The concept was not a new one; these little incidents, all the ways Temari and Kankuro tried to include him and consider his thoughts and feelings, all the ways they showed that someone cared, the way Matsuri was laughing comfortably next to him, the way Naruto was padding at his clothes and moaning about the possible stains . . . no one running away, no one afraid . . . it still surprised him; and the small glow of warmth inside him felt as if it wasn't all because of the warm drinks on the table.