Moving was always a hard time for anyone. But when you had to move out of the comfort of your own home, it was just as hard, if not more so. Gaara had decided to move into a small, one floor house with his friend Naruto. They had been close ever since his childhood… and lately Gaara had felt more there. When the blonde smiled at him, he felt butterflies flying around and tickling the lining of his stomach. So to speak. "…Well… this is it." The redhead stared at it, grimacing in disgust. He had gotten a bargain for it… and now he knew why. It was kind of… shabby. The front yard was over grown, and ivy was slowly inching up the side of the house.
The color wasn't bad. It was a soft off-white, with deep green trimmings. So, at least they gave them the courtesy of painting it first. Naruto beamed at the shorter of them, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. "Hey… at least I'll have something to do while I search for a job!" he felt like such a charity case. He couldn't very well pay rent, and Gaara would have to pay all the bills until he could get out and find a job he could keep for more then five weeks.
Naruto was nearly twenty-five. He was having a hard time finding people willing to hire him, and when he did, he had a hard time KEEPING said job. He came to a grand height of 5'11'', and weighed about 150 pounds. So, for his height, he was actually a bit under weight. But the blonde always thought that he was fat. He had had struggled with eating disorders in the past, but was trying to recover. Gaara always told him he had 'come way', but he wasn't so sure.
Gaara, on the other hand, was eighteen. Fresh out of high school. He already had an internship for a psychiatrist job, and the psychiatrist he was getting the training from said he was the best he had seen in a long time. He always worked part time as a Host at the local sit-down restaurant. Two years ago, Gaara couldn't even listen to a teacher without getting angry… now he was taking classes to become a Psychiatrist, and was calm enough to write down orders, and deal with costumers. Naruto decided that HE was not the one who has come a long way… Gaara was.
Said boy sighed and nodded, going to the front of the house and opening the door. The house was prefurnished … so all the stuff they needed was already there. The shorter of the two sniffed the air, and scrunched his nose. "…It stinks." He proclaimed, dropping his backpack on the floor. The house had to be fumigated before they could move in, so they had to stay at a hotel for a few nights. "It's probably just dust." The blonde assured him with a grin. Gaara's expression remained unchanged.
He wasn't exactly one to smile. After all the shit he had to go through? Smiling seemed like a privilege he was not allowed to have. Between killing his mother before he had even taken his first breath, his abusive siblings and father, and his Uncle's Suicide… The right of 'the pursuit of happiness' had slipped through his fingers before he was even old enough to date.
Naruto yawned and flopped back onto the couch, sighing. It was pretty comfy… except for something that was poking his spine. He sat up, digging through the cushions and pulling out a circular, red and white fan. "…The family who lived here last must have left it here…" He shrugged, fanning himself with it. But no matter how long he held the thing… it was still cold. He raised a blonde eyebrow, putting it on the kitchen table. "…Weird. It must be made of pure metal or something…"
Curiously, Gaara strolled over to Naruto and leaned over the back of the couch. "Why do you think that? The green eyed boy asked curiously, staring at the fan. Something felt strange about it… but he couldn't place it. He reached out and grabbed it, yelping soon after, dropping the fan. "…Hot." He nursed his hand, holding his palm to his chest.
"Hot?" Naruto raised an eyebrow and picked it up. It still felt cold to him. "You're imagining things, Gaara. You must just be so cold that it feels hot." He reached out and grabbed the boy's hand, looking at it curiously. It didn't feel cold… quite warm, actually. He shrugged it off, going into the kitchen.
"….What are you doing, Naruto?"
"Getting some Cup Ramen."
"Oh." Gaara nodded slowly, staring at the fan. He could swear that he had seen that thing before… It felt familiar to him. He put his hand to his mouth, kissing the place that was exposed to such hot. It felt warm on his mouth still… And it didn't smell like burnt flesh. It smelt like… Vanilla and Cherry. That was strange in itself. He nudged the fan with his foot, before relaxing against the arm of the couch. He stared at a random wall, his arms cradling his head. 'Aishiteru.'
Darkly lined eyes snapped open and he sat up. His two years of Japanese back in high school were starting to kick in. "Aishiteru… the base word is 'ai'… which means love… Aishiteru… it means… I love you?" Gaara knew what 'ai' meant well. After all, his father had permanently tattooed it on his forehead when he was about eight. It had been with him ever since. But, now there was a bigger problem. Naruto didn't know Japanese…So he couldn't have possibly said that. So, why was he hearing this word? And in such a… luscious voice, too?
He shrugged it off, getting off the couch to check on Naruto. "You okay?" of course he was. He was sucking ramen so fast, it looked like it might just kill him if he stopped. Like some sort of life or death situation. But, to his surprise… he was not eating ramen. He was just staring at the counter with wide blue eyes. "…Naruto… What's wrong?" He asked, walking up to him. The red head gasped at what he saw. The boy's face was bleeding… in six symmetrical lines. Three on each side of his face. "…What happened…?" He asked, almost afraid to know.
"…I… was just standing here… and there was the cold feeling on both sides of my face… then a warm spot, like someone was breathing on my neck… And I thought it was you… and then I had this pain…" He pointed to the marks, watching Gaara as he grabbed paper towels and began wiping the blood off his face. "…Weird… maybe a cat ran through or something…" Bull shit. Cats don't do this kind of thing. And if they did, it wouldn't be symmetrical. But this was perfect… like someone planned it. But, he couldn't let the Other know this. He might get scared… Since Naruto was terribly superstitious.
"…Yeah, maybe." The blonde agreed and smiled, folding his arms behind his head. "Heh! Stupid me." He winced every time the blood was dabbed at by Gaara… but, he figured the other knew what he was doing. After all, blood had been a part of the pale boy's life for quite some time. Naruto's abuse had been purely verbal growing up.
His Father was in the some sort of service. He had gotten his mother pregnant… and then got assigned. He died in battle, and his mother gave him up. That was all he knew about his birth parents. But, from then on, he skipped around from foster home to foster home. Each one took him back to the orphanage, saying that he was dim. Now, Naruto wasn't Dim. He was actually quite smart… it just took him more then a slap to the hand to remember rules. Since each house he went to had different rules, he found himself having to memorize a lot of them. Why didn't his foster parents get that? One man broguth him back, shooting him in the head because "The fucker's unteachable". The orphanage reluctantly took him back… and them carted him to another foster home.
This went on until he was about twelve. At that point, he was considered to be "past the adoptable age". So, he lived with the headmaster. The headmaster was a kind, understanding man by the name of Iruka. Iruka was patient with him when he needed to be, and strict in the same manner. The punishments were short lived… but effective. Such as making him clean the house every day for a week. Usually that particular punishment only lasted a day or so, though. Iruka was a softy.
Once he turned eighteen, he moved out and worked as a teacher's assistant for an elementary school class. Fifth grade, to be exact. He saw a lot of himself in a quite little red head who always sat in the corner, and never raised his hand. So, he made sure to talk to the boy as often as possible. Even if at the time, the boy didn't talk back. It wasn't until Spring the following year that Gaara finally spoke to him. Gaara had recently become a sixth grader, and was in a completely different class. He couldn't talk to him… and he often found himself worrying about the quite boy. He had been grading papers after class, and the short boy walked through the door. Staring at Naruto until he decided to turn around. "…Oh. Hello, Gaara!" he greeted, waving. The next thing he knew, he was tackled to the ground with the boy sitting on his chest. "…Miss you…" The boy whimpered like a kicked puppy, sniffling. A small trail of tears flowed through darkly lined eyes.
It was at that moment that Gaara and Naruto had become friends. Sure, there was a large age different… but it didn't seem like that much now. Eighteen and Twenty-five seemed like a smaller gap then eleven and eighteen. Gaara dabbed at the marks, sighing softly. "I don't know how this happened…" He whispered, before backing up. "That looks clean… I'll use chemicals, too, if you want." Naruto whined and held his face, shaking his head back and forth rapidly. "Noooo! That'll hurtttt!!!" Gaara pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "…Fine. Eat your ramen."
He made his way back to the living room, and fell onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. His eyes slowly slid to a close, and he took deep breaths. Next things he knew, there was a presence around him. Kind of like someone was above him… He kept his eyes closed, figuring it was just Naruto trying to scare him. Though, at the feeling of a pressure like kisses to his neck, his eyes snapped open. He didn't see anyone at first… but when his eyes trailed down from the ceiling, he saw a person about his age hovering over him with an incredibly sexy smile. The person's hair was slicked back into a spiky effect. He leaned down and whispered a soft 'Aishiteru', before disappearing into thin air. "…What… was that?" Gaara asked, looking around. That had NOT been a normal experience.