Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply.
Notes: Hi guys! This is a one shot that I wrote because I was inspired. My muse? Masochism. Ha… um, I really like this couple, for absolutely no reason. I hope that you enjoy my obnoxiously long story that I did not read over because even I was intimidated by its length. :'D
Information:
CHARACTERS: Gaara—17, Hinata—16
UNIVERSE: Alternate
TIMELINE: Alternate
GENRE(S): Horror/Romance
RATING: M
WARNINGS: Masochism, smoking (NOT encouraged, people), drinking, implied sex, and mild language. Kind of PWP. Unedited.
SUMMARY: Psychological wounds bleed from the inside out… and slowly the scars will begin to take form.
Bulletproof
Written by: boxinlove
The body of a small child convulsed with fear. His short, frail arms held his legs so they were tucked securely against his chest. Emerald eyes were squeezed shut, tears streaming down his cheeks as he fruitlessly attempted to shut out the screams that could be heard from the lower level of the household. He was only four years old, and the only of all the Sabaku children that did not attend school. Every day he would wake up to fights—the shrill voices of his parents arguing, and the harsh-sounding slaps that were no doubt being bestowed upon each others' faces—all by himself. Every morning, he would run to his door, swiftly and silently shut the door, and lock himself in his room. He sat in the corner, always hand-in-hand with his teddy bear, prone to crying and violent trembles.
Why would his mommy and daddy yell at each other as soon as Temari and Kankuro left the house? And then daddy would go to work, and mommy would cry hard, though she tried hard to put on a smile for him. He would pretend that he did not understand her despair, when really all along he was the only one that could. When daddy returned later with his elder siblings, both squabbling and excitedly talking about school, daddy and mommy would pretend that nothing was wrong, and paint the illusion of a happy, cheery family.
But Gaara saw through the web of lies. He knew all along that his mommy and daddy were hurting each other, but he could never tell Temari and Kankuro. He did not understand yet what the fighting meant. He hoped every day that his mommy and daddy would make up soon, and love each other as they pretended to when his siblings were home.
However, as he sat there by himself, he knew that mommy and daddy would never stop fighting. It would only get worse, and it had only gotten worse. Gaara was deathly afraid and lonely.
He lifted his head, alerted by the slamming of the front door. Daddy had gone to work, and mommy would come upstairs to wake him up. Hurriedly, he wiped away the tearstains on his cheeks and scuttled beneath the sheets of his bed. He huddled into a ball on the mattress, as he always did when he slept, and closed his eyes shut.
But rather than footsteps ascending the stairs, he heard his mommy's sobbing get louder, more pained. Gaara held his aching chest, but the pain would not go away. He had to pretend he was sleeping so his mommy would put on a smile for him when she came to wake him up—and it would be as though nothing ever happened.
He waited. He waited so long, he eventually drifted off into sleep.
When he woke up again, he realized that his mommy was not there. He realized that he had been sleeping for a very long time. Somnolently, the young boy crawled out of bed. The house was utterly silent.
He heard the front door open—his daddy was home! But his mommy had not come up to his room to wake him up that morning. Was his mommy mad at him?
Slowly, he took careful steps down the stairs. His daddy greeted him with a smile, and Temari and Kankuro hustled over to give him quick hugs and ruffle his hair. Then, they all asked the same question. "Where is mommy?"
"I don't know," Gaara had said, shaking his head gently. "Mommy didn't wake me up."
Temari and Kankuro gave him a confused look. Gaara looked towards his daddy—he did not know what he was thinking at that moment. All he knew was that his siblings began howling for mommy, but she never responded.
And then, Temari screamed.
Gaara, Kankuro, and daddy hobbled over to where Temari was, shrieking and crying and pointing to their mommy that lay sprawled on the floor. Kankuro screamed as well, backing up into the wall. His daddy said a bad word, and then rushed over to his mommy, placing his hand on her shoulder and turning her over. Suddenly, he began to cry as well.
Gaara could only stare at his mommy lying on the floor—she was sleeping, he had observed, in a pool of red water. There were knives scattered about—Gaara had been warned many times to never go near them. Why had mommy left them on the floor?
As his daddy held mommy in a way that was so loving, and his siblings sobbed helplessly huddled close to their daddy, Gaara stepped forward. He, too, was pulled into a crushing hug. He did not understand why.
Moments later, his daddy was calling someone. People came into the house—people that Gaara did not know—and put his mommy on a bed. She looked so happy in her sleep, Gaara noticed. She must have been dreaming about something pretty. But then, they covered mommy's face with a blanket. Gaara had went to one of the ladies, tearing out of his daddy's grip, and said, "Mommy can't breathe! Mommy will die!"
The lady had given him a look that he found to be saddened, and said, "Your mommy is breathing… and she is breathing the freshest of air in the prettiest of places."
The redheaded boy could only cock his head with confusion, completely unbeknownst to the morbid meaning behind the strange lady's words.
During the consecutive three days, Gaara would sit by the window, waiting for his mommy to return. His daddy and his siblings were not telling him anything. They just kept hugging him and telling him constantly that they loved him.
"When is mommy coming home?" Gaara had asked suddenly during another solemn, quiet dinner. It bothered him that Temari and Kankuro were not talking loudly anymore, and that daddy was always frowning and sometimes not listening when he talked to him. "Where is mommy?"
Temari burst into tears, wrapping her brother to her chest, "Gaara! Mommy's dead! Mommy isn't coming back!"
Gaara did not really understand dying, and death, but he knew one thing.
Mommy was not coming back.
…Thirteen years later, Tuesday, 9:55 PM…
Gaara propped his elbows on the windowsill, his shoulders and head sticking out the window and a cigarette held between his index and middle fingers. He took easy puffs, exhaling smoke heavily. Gaara closed his eyes, relaxing at the sensation.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps. Gaara glanced down, and noticed a flustered Hinata sneaking towards the base of the tree next to his bedroom window. She looked up at him, face red from running, and said; "What are you doing?"
"Smoking," Gaara replied flatly, narrowing his eyes at her, "What are you doing?"
Hinata shook her head, giving him an apologetic, thin smile, "Sorry, Gaara… can… can I come up? I'll tell you."
"Be careful."
Hinata nodded. Her lithe fingers grasped the branch above her, and she hoisted herself up. She had done this many times before. Slowly, she ascended the tree, making her way to the higher branches. Gaara released his breath as she finally reached the closest one. Holding his cigarette between his teeth, he opened his window wider so he could rest his knee on the sill, leaning out slightly to her. She leapt into his arms, knocking him back slightly. He carried her carefully, setting her on the hardwood flooring of his bedroom. Hinata exhaled with relief.
"Put that out…" she told him softly. Gaara did not listen to her. She bit her lip, sitting down on his bed and regarding his appearance—spiked, unkempt red hair that was longer than she recalled, brilliantly emerald eyes surrounded by dark circles, and his tattoo that she never really understood, but liked nonetheless. Hinata's lips quirked upwards, "You haven't changed much…"
Gaara finally extinguished his cigarette and closed his window shut. He plopped down on the bed next to her. He stared at her for a few moments, and then ran his fingers through her thin black hair, "Your hair is longer."
Hinata smiled, touching his hair gently as well, "So is yours."
Their lips met halfway in a tender kiss, and Gaara's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer. He pulled away from the lip lock, nuzzling the crook of her neck.
Hinata held him tightly. "I missed you so much, Gaara…"
Gaara kissed her on the cheek, and then retreated back to pick up his cup of coffee.
"You shouldn't drink coffee… how will you sleep, Gaara?"
"I don't want or need to sleep."
Hinata frowned, and then asked, "Are you starting college yet?"
"University."
"Oh… are you glad?"
"For what?"
"Graduating early?"
Gaara shrugged, sipping at his coffee again, "Not particularly."
"You hate high school."
"You hate it too."
"It's summer, so I won't have to worry about school…" Hinata laughed softly, crossing her legs and reaching for his diploma and graduation picture, which lay carelessly on the floor. "This hat doesn't really suit you."
Gaara shot her a glare.
"But you look nice… you should have smiled more."
"Mm." Gaara mumbled. He decided to change the subject, "How was your dad's place?"
"It was nice… I got to spend a lot of time with my sister. I really missed her." Hinata looked at him, "Can I stay here… tonight? I just… I don't want to go to my mom's. It's been so messy since I left…"
"Sure," Gaara said, shrugging and finishing the last of his coffee.
"Oh, and," Hinata reached into her sweater pocket, and withdrew a small box. She held it out to him—it had a little red bow on it. "I was gone all Christmas… but… I got you a present anyway. Since you got me one," Hinata beamed thankfully, reaching beneath her shirt to reveal to him the white-gold necklace that she wore. "It's all I wear now."
Gaara snorted, "You didn't have to get me anything."
"I wanted to…" Hinata trailed, and then opened it for him. Gaara watched—they were black spacers. Gaara smirked. Hinata flushed, "You kept saying you wanted them… and they were really nice."
Gaara pulled her to him, kissing her deeply in thanks. When he pulled away, he said, "I like them."
Hinata wore a happy, yet slightly embarrassed smile.
Gaara pulled out the silver spacers that he wore—he had two piercings on each earlobe—the ones situated higher were simple, black studs, but the ones beneath were spacers. Hinata watched as Gaara pushed the new ones it. She winced as he did so, "That looks so… painful."
Gaara shrugged, "You get used to it."
"Yours are big now…"
"I don't want them any bigger after this."
Hinata edged closer, ghosting her fingers over the tattoo on Gaara's forehead. He closed his eyes.
"I missed you a lot," Hinata whispered for the second time that night. She bestowed a shy kiss over the tattoo, and then on his cheek. She wound her arms around his neck, "Were you okay?"
"I've been taking care of myself long before I met you, Hinata…"
Hinata nodded, "I know… I just want to make sure that you still can."
They kissed again, deeper this time. Hinata pulled away for a moment, "Your breath is really smoky."
"Sorry."
They stayed up for hours, on Gaara's laptop, talking, and playing video games. Eventually, though, Hinata fell asleep on the mattress, curled up in fatal position. Gaara laid down next to her, her back facing him, and held her from behind.
A blonde-haired woman sat next to a young man on a sofa. Across their coffee table and porcelain cups scattered across its surface was a stony-faced, middle-aged woman with mid-length, dark hair and striking red eyes. Crinkles formed contemplatively between her brows, and her toe swung absently as she scribbled notes in a notebook that sat on her knee.
"Miss Sabaku…"
"Temari, please," the blonde-haired woman spoke, appearing distressed, her own face flushed with weariness. Beside her, the brunette man fidgeted, as if he did not like being there but was too anxious to leave. "And this is my other brother, Kankuro."
"You two are both siblings of Gaara? No parents?"
"No."
"Would you care to explain what happened to your parents?"
Temari and Kankuro exchanged a glance, and Kankuro spoke up, "Uh… when we were kids, our mom committed suicide," Kankuro swallowed before continuing, "Since then, dad was never the same. He spent lots of days at work. Temari basically started taking care of us. He was deemed insane last year, and now Temari is our legal guardian."
Beside him, Temari shifted uncomfortably, a solemn expression on her face.
"Gaara was very… withdrawn afterwards as well. I think it was most traumatic for him, because he did spend the most time with our mom out of all of us. Temari and I were at school, and he'd be at home," Temari fiddled with her fingers, looking increasingly pained by the discussion.
The therapist in front of them nodded, "Has he ever spoken about the incident?"
"No… none of us really do," Temari said.
Kankuro propped his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and staring at the coffee cup in front of him, and then looked towards the therapist again, utterly desperate, "Is there anything you can do for him? Meds?"
"When we last spoke over the phone you claimed that Gaara… seemed to be having recurring nightmares—you infer that these nightmares are of his childhood—, and this resulted in refusal to sleep, which led to insomnia. You tried giving him sleeping pills, however, whenever he sleeps he usually has these nightmares. Recently, you've caught him carving "love" on his skin with a kitchen knife. He could be manic-depressive, masochistic—this all makes sense, due to his past trauma. Do you speak to him regularly?"
"We do, and he talks regularly. He acts as if nothing happened."
"What does he talk about?"
"School… video games, uh… just normal things. Anything you'd expect to hear from a teenaged boy," Temari said, running her fingers through her bangs, "He talks about his girlfriend sometimes."
"Hmm… okay. Possible denial? Maybe he doesn't remember hurting himself?"
"He remembers. Even after we walk in on him hurting himself, he just tells us to close the door and continues."
"Have you ever asked him about the dreams and the masochism?"
"Yes. Plenty of times. He tells us it's none of our business," Temari bit her lip, rubbing her face, "We don't want to provoke him. We don't want to make him feel unloved or… anything. We don't understand his… obsession with the word love. He's got it tattooed on his forehead. But he just never lets us in."
"I punched him once," Kankuro muttered, "For the carvings. For hurting himself. He punched back."
Temari rolled her eyes, "They were fine within an hour… but I don't understand how Gaara can do all these things and suddenly everything's normal again."
"… Can I speak with him sometime?" Inquired the therapist.
"We would let you but we don't want his… sanity… to regress any further," Temari stated firmly, "We just want to know that this façade that he wears everyday is true. And we want to understand our brother more."
The therapist tapped her pencil against the paper, mulling over a notion quietly. Temari and Kankuro watched as she looked towards them, glasses gleaming in the dim light, "You mentioned before he had a girlfriend?"
Temari blinked in surprise, "Yes."
"Tell me about her."
"I have met her only a few times. She is incredibly shy, but nice. She seems pretty smart, definitely very compassionate… I think she is in love with Gaara, even though, quite frankly, the two aren't very affectionate…"
The therapist was silent for a few moments, and then she said, "Does she know about Gaara's issues?"
"… I don't know."
"You say she loves him?"
"I'm positive."
"Well, clearly your brother's life is endangered by his own behavior. Seeing as you two cannot approach him at the moment, we will have to use his lover as a way to get through to him for now. May I meet with his girlfriend sometime?"
Kankuro snorted softly, and Temari interjected, "I… I think I should prepare her first. We wouldn't want to overwhelm her she's… she's asthmatic and is prone to fainting."
"Oh. That's fine." The woman began to stand, "Here's my card—contact me so we can organize another meeting."
Temari led the woman to the door, and overlooked the card she was given.
"Kurenai Yuhi," Temari said. She looked towards her brother, who leaned against the countertop, already sipping from a beer bottle. Temari snatched the beverage away, "Stop it."
Gaara woke up slowly, head pounding painfully. The redhead's eyes darted about his room, searching for the ebony-haired girl that he had fallen asleep next to. As if recalling something, his muscles eased and he gingerly rolled out of bed, walking to his bathroom. He opened the door, and noticed immediately that the curtain of his shower was drawn, as it never was. A remotely damp towel was folded neatly, and was placed at the foot of the bathtub. It was a familiar scene. Gaara stepped forward, pushing aside the curtain to reveal heaps of blankets. Gaara was expressionless as he peeled back the layer of blanket to unveil Hinata, curled up and asleep.
Hinata's fists clenched, sleep disturbed by the removal of the heavy blanket. She looked up at him with wide eyes, and then burrowed beneath the blankets again, "Don't look at me," her voice was muffled as she spoke.
The redhead ignored her, pulling back the comforter to see her again. Hinata gave in this time, reluctantly sitting up and rubbing her eyes sleepily. Her hair was slightly askew. Gaara smirked, "How come you never stay with me?"
"What if your siblings walked in?" Hinata mumbled, blushing and averting her gaze. She took in a sharp breath, and then wheezed slightly. Gaara quickly rose. Indistinctly, Hinata could hear him rummaging through her things. He returned right away with her inhaler, holding it to her lips. Her breathing steadied and she thanked him meekly. "Sorry."
"It's not your fault," Gaara scoffed, running his fingers through her tangled hair, smoothening it out considerably. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Hinata said, nodding. Hinata made eye contact, her hand shyly touching his bare chest. Gaara stiffened as her fingers trailed over the scars there. She looked down to where her fingers were splayed over his pale, muscled abdomen. "This one… it's new… Gaara… I…"—
"You should go now," Gaara remarked simply. "Your mom would worry."
Hinata gave him a pleading look, but one she could not hold against his blank, earnest stare. "Okay," Hinata whispered, allowing Gaara to gently peel the blankets from her body. She was wearing one of his shirts, and a pair of his basketball shorts as well. She blushed when he eyed the articles of clothing fondly, "I didn't ask, I'm sorry—you were already asleep…"
"I don't care," Gaara said with a shrug, helping her out of the bathtub.
Gaara obligingly left the bathroom only to bring back with him her clothes, and then closed the door, allowing her privacy. She changed quickly, emerging from the washroom wearing her uniform. Even though school had ended, Hinata still wore it. She smiled at him, hand waving briefly before she opened his bedroom window. Gaara listened the rustling of the leaves as she climbed down the tree, and then eventually landed with a soft thud on the grass. He heard her jog down the street.
Gaara exhaled, poking his head outside the window for a quick smoke. He watched the girl's retreating form—she did not look back, as she had always been trained to do.
Hinata began to jog, backpack bouncing on her back. The way her eyes kept trailing to the sides, yearning to glance back verified that she did not want to go home. She shook her head softly, pace slowing back into a walk. Her eyes darted around, looking for something, and then redirecting forward again.
Minutes later, a car slowly began to accelerate towards her. Hinata glanced up, and then kept her head down. However, the engine of the car sputtered to a stop. Hinata whipped her head towards the vehicle, shoulders slackening as she recognized it to be Temari's. She stepped back as the car door swung open, and Gaara's elder sister emerged. She strode towards Hinata with purpose. Hinata blinked in surprise, as if resisting the urge to back away slowly.
"H-Hi…" Hinata acknowledged the older woman weakly. Temari was slightly taller than Hinata, and the small girl felt incredibly inferior beneath the woman's piercing gaze.
"We need to talk," Temari did not bother with useless preamble, beckoning towards her car, "Come on, I'll drive you home. You live far, don't you?"
"… Kind of."
"Come on. I'll buy you a cup of coffee on the way," Temari said. She smiled at Hinata's incredulous expression, "Calm down. I won't bite, or anything."
"Alright," Hinata conceded, opening the passenger door and buckling herself in. The car revved, and Temari began down the road.
"You've seen his scars, haven't you?"
Hinata nodded, and then realized that Temari would not be able to see with her eyes on the road. "… Yeah."
"Do you know how he got them?"
Hinata swallowed, "… Yes."
"You know about his nightmares? And everything?"
Hinata nodded, cringing, "…Yes."
"Have you ever asked."
Hinata looked down, heart thudding against her ribcage, "… Yes."
"Did he ever tell you?"
"No," Hinata choked out, rubbing her face as she attempted to urge the welling emotions away.
"It's alright," Temari glanced at the girl quickly, and, without looking, swiftly opened her glove compartment to offer the other girl a box of tissues. Hinata took the box thankfully, dabbing at her moist eyes. "He doesn't tell us either. Or anyone."
"What happened?"
"Gaara… has always had some problems," Temari began slowly, "Frankly, he needs help. Kankuro and I can't give him any help if he doesn't tell us what the hell is going on. We can't get through to him, and he gets mad when we attempt. We've called a psychiatrist. She's going to help Gaara. We're worried about him. We know you are too. And we think that you can help him."
Hinata listened carefully, fingers wringing on her lap.
"We hate to ask this of you… but… could you spend more time with him? You just need to be with him. My brother isn't a baby anymore, and he won't want to be with Kankuro and I twenty-four seven anymore. He really seems to trust you. I think he may let you in," Temari's voice was weak. She cleared her throat, "You love him, don't you?"
Hinata moistened her lips, "… Yes. A lot."
"Does he know that?"
"Yes."
"Does he love you back?"
"…He told me he doesn't know."
Temari shifted uncomfortably, "When are you free? The psychiatrist that I consulted said that she'd like to speak with you."
"Anytime."
"How about tonight?" Temari suggested, "It's short notice, but we desperately need help."
"Okay."
"Come by the house. Gaara's working late, so he won't be home."
"Fuck," Gaara groaned, running his clammy hands through his hair. He felt beads of sweat on his hairline, eventually dribbling down the sides of his face. He panted, knuckles white as he gripped his steering wheel. Gaara gasped, closing his eyes briefly. He opened his brilliant emerald eyes again, brows furrowing as his chest heaved. Softly, he whimpered, "S… Stop…"
The digital clock on his radio read—7:45 PM. Gaara's teeth gritted in annoyance, and he pressed down on the gas pedal with imperceptibly greater force.
The redhead was driving down a bare road, streetlights flickering intermittently, unable to decide whether it was dark enough to turn completely on. Gaara gasped, unable to repress the whimpers and gasps of pain that passed his lips.
He turned sharply onto his street, driving down the road. His face was sheen with sweat, and his hands were slipping along the leathery grip of his steering wheel. When he finally arrived at his house, he noticed that two unfamiliar cars were parked in front of his house. He parked his own car in the driving way, and stumbled out of the vehicle. He leaned against the car's frame for support, squinting as he identified one of the cars as Hinata's. Confoundedly, he wandered into the house. The door was unlocked.
Gaara emitted a slightly muffled, pained moan as he leaned against the wall. He looked up, and vaguely heard the voices drifting down the hall.
He took a few staggering steps towards the source of the voices, and then finally arrived just outside the dining room. He swung the door open. Behind the door, several people sat at the dining table; Temari, Kankuro, Hinata, and a woman he could not identify. He narrowed his eyes, holding his head with one hand.
"G-Gaara… is your head hurting again?" Asked Hinata softly, looking as though she were resisting against the will to stand.
"Yeah…" Gaara mumbled weakly, looking towards his siblings, "Who's this?"
"No one," the woman answered for them, collecting her things and beginning to stand. "Good bye, all," she said, leaving swiftly out the door that Gaara stood next to. They heard the front door open, and then close gently shut.
Hinata finally stood up when Gaara waned again, grasping the doorframe and teeth clenching. "Gaara…"
Temari and Kankuro scrambled—Temari ran for the pain killers, and Kankuro for a glass of water. Once they returned, Gaara was given four tablets, and drank the entire glass of water. Temari supported her brother, and Kankuro cursed repeatedly, looking utterly stressed. Hinata sat aside, eyes wide and hands clenched on her lap as she watched helplessly.
Gaara gasped, sitting up and shifting over so that he could lean his back against the wall. His head was lolled back, and his eyes were closed, "Temari, Kankuro… I'm alright."
Temari beckoned for a confused Kankuro to leave. He did so, but not after first patting his brother on the shoulder fondly. Temari gave Gaara a hug, and then Hinata a nod, and then padded out of the dining room behind Kankuro.
Hinata and Gaara were left alone.
"G-Gaara…" whispered Hinata. Cautiously, she edged towards him, "Are you okay? Oh my God… Gaara…" Hinata's eyes began to water, and she placed her hand on his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt. Gaara moaned softly, pulling her onto his lap.
He wound his arms around her, "I'm fine, Hinata…"
"I thought… you didn't get migraines anymore. You told me…" Hinata spoke softly, looking up at him, "You said. Gaara, why didn't you tell me?"
"So you wouldn't do this."
"Gaara, this is serious… these migraines…" Hinata mumbled, hands traveling over his chest. "You told me… it felt like your brain was being torn apart. You told me… How… how often do you get them? Tell the truth, please."
Gaara looked up at her, expressionless, "Almost every day."
Hinata's face distorted, and her lowered abruptly, "Oh Gaara…"
"Stop worrying," Gaara told her, hands on her hips, securing her to his lap. He closed his eyes, leaning back as she pressed her face to his chest. He shuddered as he felt the hot tears seeping through his shirt, "Stop crying."
"Why won't you take me seriously, Gaara? This isn't me overreacting. Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"
Gaara did not answer. He just exhaled heavily, eyes closing. He ran his fingers through her hair, "Can I take you to bed, Hinata?"
Hinata looked up to him, biting her lip, "Are you… still hurting, Gaara?"
"No."
Hinata swallowed, nodding gingerly as she took his hands, getting up on her knees, "Let's go then."
Hinata pulled Gaara to his feet. She turned off the lights. Gaara took her hand in his, and led her to his room.
Gaara gently laid Hinata down on the bed, kissing her on the nose gently, then her lips, then her jaw line. "Hinata… Who was that woman?"
She shook her head softly, "As she said. No one."
Gaara did not bother for answers afterwards.
A while later, Hinata was lying on her side, head propped on her hand as she lulled Gaara to sleep by stroking his red hair. Hinata sighed heavily as she noticed his breathing even. Hinata made sure he was sound asleep before creeping out of bed. She shivered as the brisk air pricked at her bare skin, and began to dress. Once she had her uniform on again, as well as her sweater, she hopped out of the window and began to climb down the tree that she had climbed down many times before.
She commenced down the sidewalk, hands stuffed in her pockets and palming her cell phone. The streetlights illuminated the road, and the entire time she kept her eyes on her feet.
Thirty minutes later, she arrived at her house. Her mother's car was parked in the driveway. Hinata exhaled, eyes closing. She proceeded down the walkway, onto the veranda and in front of the door. She withdrew her key from her pocket, jiggling it in the lock before the door finally swung open. Hinata stepped inside, removing her shoes. She peered into the living room, where her mother was situated in the recliner with her feet propped lazily on the ottoman. The woman looked up at her daughter as she quietly entered the room and sat down on the sofa.
"Were you at Gaara's?"
Hinata glanced up to her mother, lips parting in surprise. She nodded.
"I don't even want to know what you did," muttered the dark-haired woman, sipping at the drink she had on the small table next to her. Vodka. Hinata pressed her lips together, recognizing the substance with disdain, but refused to say anything. "You better love him, Hinata."
"I do…"
"Hm, funnily enough, that's what I said about your jackass father… and now look. Two of my daughters torn apart. I don't even know Hanabi anymore," Hinata's mother scoffed, eyes closing as she took another long sip, "Men can't be trusted, Hinata."
"I can trust Gaara," Hinata said firmly, "Just because Gaara is a boy doesn't mean that he's going to betray me."
"Hinata, you don't understand anything yet! You're naïve, foolish, and in love. It means nothing! Years down the road you're going to regret all of this and you're going to turn to me, wishing for sympathy and I won't give you any," Hinata's mother irate gaze locked on her, "Because I told you so. I tried to warn you, and you didn't listen."
Hinata swallowed hard, her heart beating wildly.
She disappeared up the stairs.
The next day, Hinata's mother woke up late with a hangover, and blearily managed to read the note that Hinata had left for her on the fridge;
Mom,
I called Gaara last night, and asked if I could stay with him for a while. I will pay for my own groceries—I do have a job, now. I'll come back when I've sorted some things out. Don't drink too much, please.
Love, Hinata.
"Do your siblings know?" Hinata asked quietly as Gaara opened the front door for her. Gaara shrugged, stepping aside to let her in.
"They won't care," Gaara replied carelessly, allowing the door to slam shut. Hinata jumped, giving Gaara a reprimanding look before setting down her duffle bag that was stuffed with contents thrown in at random. He gestured towards its lumpy shape, and gave her a mildly inquisitive look, "What's in there?"
"Uniforms, sleeping clothes, underwear, toothbrush, toothpaste, other girl things…" Hinata muttered near the end, tightening her ponytail and languidly taking off her shoes. She sighed heavily, leaning against the wall, "… I'm worried for my mom, Gaara…"
"She'll be fine," he assured her, "She's an adult. She can take care of herself."
Hinata gave him an incredulous look, "She's an alcoholic."
Gaara's answer did not change.
"… I hope you're right, Gaara," whispered Hinata, rubbing her face, "I feel awful for leaving her."
"She was giving you a hard time."
Hinata swallowed, "She's still my mom."
"Go back then."
"No," Hinata shook her head, "I can't handle her… criticizing everything that I do because she thinks that every little thing about our relationship relates to her and dad's broken one!"
Gaara rubbed his girlfriend's back in attempt to console her, "Don't worry about it."
"I'm sorry."
"I don't care. I want you with me."
Gaara led Hinata to his room again. They talked for an hour. Gaara set up a movie. It was a horror movie—Hinata was the only one truly watching, for Gaara was on his laptop. Whenever Hinata screamed, Gaara looked up at the scene, rolled his eyes, and continued to play his online videogame.
"Turn it off if you're scared," he had said.
She had responded; "But then I'll never understand what happened."
The movie finally ended. Hinata, who had been lying on her stomach, sat up, stretching as the credits began to roll. She looked towards Gaara, who was sitting on the other side of the bed, and asked, "Can I put in another movie?"
"You can do whatever you want. Just don't break anything."
Hinata frowned, as though recalling something, and sighed, sitting back on the balls of her feet, "If you don't want me to break anything, then you set it up."
Gaara gave her a miffed look, "You don't know how to use a DVD player?"
Hinata flushed, "Yours is confusing."
Gaara scoffed, picked up the remote, and, without even standing, changed the disks. The next movie's trailers began to roll. Hinata tittered.
"That is…"
"Hm?"
"Unbelievable."
Gaara grunted, diverting his attention to his laptop again. Hinata laughed at the statement, but did not verbally disagree. Gaara tossed her the remote, and she pressed play. "The movie's good."
"Why don't you watch it with me, then?" Hinata asked, a scary theme playing in the background.
"M'busy."
Hinata winced as a bloody scene flared on the screen, and glanced towards Gaara. He was not watching. Hinata frowned, and then crawled towards him. He tensed, having noticed her approach. Hinata sat on his lap, facing him, and gently pried at the shirt that he wore, pulling it up to see the scars.
"I can't stop, Hinata…" he told her softly, "I'm sorry."
Hinata shook her head, "You have to try, Gaara…" She kissed the most recent scars, "Okay?"
Gaara nodded gingerly, kissing her forehead.
Hinata pressed herself against him, resting her head on the junction connecting his shoulder and neck, and she set her eyes on the screen. Gaara's arms snaked around her, and the keyboard clicked as he continued to play.
"Ah! Gaara, this movie"—
Gaara chuckled humorlessly, still playing, "Too scary?"
"Gory."
"I like gore."
She shivered, "I'm scared of blood."
Gaara glanced at the top of her head, "Do I scare you?"
"Not you… the thought of you being hurt scares me, though," Hinata said. She looked up at him, "Have you been having nightmares, lately?"
Gaara shook his head, "Just the migraines… but then again," Gaara smirked wryly, "I haven't been sleeping well enough to dream."
Hinata nodded numbly, continuing to watch the movie.
Hours went by—Gaara and Hinata continued to play movies even though they did not may its plot much attention. Once they got bored, they went downstairs to eat. Hinata made what she could out of the things she could find in the pantry, and Gaara helped although he did not seem to show any interest or skill in cooking. Hinata took a nap, Gaara played xbox, and finally, 5:30 rolled around. The revving of an engine could be heard indistinctly from down the road. The front door flew open, and Gaara's siblings strode in.
"Gaara, we're home!" Temari announced, removing her coat and hanging it on the rack. Kankuro kicked off his shoes, sniffing as he tossed his keys onto the table nearby the door.
"What's cookin'?" Kankuro called out, having smelled the leftovers of soup that had been made. He walked into the family room, where Gaara and Hinata sat cross legged in front of the television. Hinata was punching in a text message on her phone, and Gaara was engrossed with his video game. "Oh, hey Hinata."
"Hi," Hinata greeted the two elder Sabaku children. "Sorry… I"—
"Hinata's staying for a little bit," Gaara cut her off, eyes still fixed on the screen.
"Oh! That's—that's fine," Temari stammered, glancing between the girl and her brother, "Why? Is there something wrong?"
"My mom and I had a fight," Hinata uttered, looking contrite, "I'm so sorry. I really have nowhere else to stay. My dad's all the way"—
"On the other side of Fire Country… I know," Temari said, nodding. She smiled, "Don't worry, Hinata. You're always welcome here. Just make yourself at home, alright?"
"Oh, so Gaara's allowed to have his girlfriends in the house, and then when you find a girl in my room it's like… a fucking epidemic of germs or some shit," muttered Kankuro, flopping onto the couch and running his hands through his hair.
"Shut up, Kankuro," Temari snapped, marching into the kitchen, "Hinata, please ignore him."
Gaara shot his brother a brief glare before pressing down the triangular button on his remote. Hinata looked down at the screen on her cell phone.
Suddenly, Gaara felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Reluctantly, he paused his game, and pulled out his phone.
Hinata
sorry.
Gaara did not look up at his girlfriend, but merely snorted at the message.
Hinata received a reply seconds later;
Gaara
i shuld b the 1 sayin that
Hinata laughed, beaming as she tucked her phone away. She leaned back on her palms, head tilted to the side as she watched Gaara play online against others. She did not appear to understand how they were playing, or how they found it fun, but was visibly proud when she noticed Gaara's screen name appear at the top of the list of names at the end of the session.
"Who are you playing?" Hinata asked.
"Don't know," Gaara said with a shrug, "Doesn't matter."
Temari came up behind the back of the sofa, snatching the energy drink that Kankuro drank as he read his magazine. "So guys, what do you want for dinner? Just takeout?"
"Don't care, I'm hungry," Kankuro spoke on everyone's behalf, tossing away his magazine and getting up from the sofa. He jogged up the stairs, and Temari grumbled in annoyance.
"What do you two want?" Temari repeated her question, with more patience this time. She looked to Hinata, who seemed to be avoiding her gaze, "Hinata? What would you like?"
"Uh…" she cast her colorless eyes to the red head, and then looked away, "Anything is fine."
"Gaara?"
He shrugged, "I don't care."
Temari groaned, "That was really helpful, everyone. Okay. Fine, I get what I want tonight." Temari began to amble towards the phone.
In the end, the four ended up eating pizza from the plaza down the street—which Kankuro had to pick up—with extra mushrooms. Kankuro complained twice about the mushrooms, claiming that he had, on several occasions, verbalized his unending loathing for the ingredient. Temari had simply brushed off his comments, more concerned about what Hinata thought. The girl, being a fan of mushrooms, had said that she liked it. Gaara inconspicuously managed to eat four slices of the pizza.
Despite Temari declining, Hinata insisted that she helped clear the table and wash the dishes. Both Kankuro and Gaara had hid upstairs to avoid the task.
"Temari…" Hinata began slowly as she scrubbed at a plate.
The woman looked towards the dark-haired girl, "Yeah?"
"Thanks. For letting me stay here."
"Mm. Sure, no problem," Temari said, drying off the plate she had just been washing and putting it away into a cupboard. She glanced at Hinata quickly, "If you… need to talk about it, you can."
"I'm fine. This has happened before," Hinata assured. "She just… doesn't approve of me, in general. Neither of my parents really do."
The blonde woman nodded. "You don't have to continue, if you don't want to."
"Thank you," Hinata said, turning off the taps and handing the blonde the plates and cups she had washed.
"… How's Gaara?"
"He's…" Hinata paused, biting her lip, as though contemplative. Eventually, she exhaled, and continued, "He's still not getting good sleep."
"Thank you for caring about him so much," Temari said sincerely. "He's had… maybe two other previous girlfriends… neither of which were very serious but… they were always so turned off by the way he acts. I really think he cares about you."
Hinata wiped at her eyes, nodding, "Your welcome."
Temari leaned forward, craning her neck to get a better view of the girl's face, "Hinata? Are you crying? Oh no, don't cry. This is a good thing. I've never seen him act this way around anyone…"—
"I just… I just don't want him to leave me, you know?" Hinata mumbled, keeping her gaze down. Heavily, she exhaled, "I… I really worry about him. And being around him it's… especially painful. But at the same time I don't want to l-leave… does that make any sense at all?"
The woman smiled gently, placing a hand on the other's shoulder, "Mm-hmm. It does. I wish I could make promises… but Gaara is an incredibly precarious person, and even I don't understand him."
"He doesn't have to love me back," Hinata's voice was barely above a whisper, and she strained a thin smile, "I just don't ever want him to disappear on me."
Temari laughed, "He won't disappear. Don't think about things like that."
When they finally completed the dish-washing, Temari motioned for the other to go upstairs as she extinguished all of the lights in the house, "Thanks for the help, Hinata. Go to sleep now, though. You must be tired."
Hinata smiled, and did as she was told, bobbing up the stairs and into Gaara's room.
Gaara was sitting at his desk, red hair still damp and in nothing but a pair of pajama pants. He looked towards the intruder, who feebly closed the door behind her. "Sorry."
Gaara shook his head, "I'm dressed."
"Was I interrupting anything?"
"No."
Hinata turned towards his bed, and then sat down. "Where should I sleep?"
"With me."
"Shouldn't I sleep in the bathtub? It's comfy."
Gaara snorted, "Just sleep with me. It's wet there."
Hinata nodded, "Okay… what about your sister…"—
"She doesn't care."
The window slid open, and Gaara flicked his lighter to life, igniting the end of his cigarette. Hinata glanced to him, sighed, and then disappeared into the washroom to start getting ready for bed.
…Three days later, Sunday, 1:32 AM…
Hinata awoke with a start. Her skin was damp with sweat, yet exposed to the cold night air. She shivered, searching near her thighs for the blanket. Her eyes were still closed, and her mind was still heavy with exhaustion. However, she immediately snapped out of her trance when she heard a soft moan emanate from the corner of the room. Hinata's eyes flew open, and she froze, chills running down her spine. Cold sweat broke over her skin again, and she tried to keep her voice low, "…Gaara?"
Another moan of pain drifted to her ears. Breath hitching in her throat, she slowly began to lower herself from the mattress, setting her foot onto the floor. Cautiously, she called out again; "What's going on?"
"Nn… Hinata…" he moaned painfully. He opened his eyes—they seemed to pierce through the dark. Hinata's vision finally adjusted, and she saw the glimmer of a pocket knife held near his bare, muscled abdomen. Hinata gaped as she distinguished the red tint to its blade. "Go to sleep, Hinata…"
"What? N-No! What are you doing?" Hinata stuttered, voice weak.
Hinata emitted a choked sob, watching the blood seep slowly from the shallow cravings on his flesh. Gaara whined softly, curling away from his girlfriend as she began to crawl towards him.
"Gaara… no, please, stop… no!" Hinata's voice was strained as Gaara plunged the blade against his skin, engraving the kanji again. Hinata's breathing was erratic, and her eyes were wild. She gasped for breath, grabbing his discarded shirt and pressing it against the newly-made wounds so that the blood would clot faster. Gaara's head leaned back, breathing uneven but expression manically peaceful.
"What's wrong, Hina?" Gaara asked flatly, reaching into her pocket for the inhaler that he knew was there. Hinata looked up at him, eyes panicked, and he gently pushed the mouthpiece past her lips, "You need this." She inhaled, and he pressed down on the button, removing the inhaler as she caught her breath. "Stop worrying. I'm fine."
"N-no! You're not fine—what makes you think that you're fine? You're-you're covered in b-blood. Gaara… Gaara you…I… please, you have to stop—NO!" Gaara began to carve again. Hinata grabbed the bloodied knife, "Gaara! Why are you doing this?"
Gaara ignored her hysteria, pulling her forward and taking her bottom lip between his, kissing her softly, "I hate seeing you cry, Hinata… You need to calm down."
"Stop! Gaara, please, why. Tell me why you're doing this!" Hinata was nearly shrieking, though she had to keep her voice down so his siblings would not hear, "You never tell me! Don't you trust me, Gaara?" Gaara did not respond, preoccupied with lathering her neck with wet kisses, one hand creeping up her shirt. Hinata's eyes flooded with tears, "Gaara, please… Think about what you're doing to your siblings… and me… Gaara! Stop and answer me, for once… if you care about me at all, you'll tell me."
Gaara finally stopped. He looked up to her with a blank expression, blinked, and stated; "This pain, it makes the other pain go away."
"What other pain?"
"Here," he whispered, taking her hand in his and placing it over the right side of his chest. Slowly, he smirked. He removed his hand from hers, brushing stray strands of hair away from her tearstained face, "Mmm, it hurts…"
Hinata shook her head, eyes wide and disbelieving, "…G-Gaara…"
"I love… this pain," Gaara motioned towards the scars and blemishes marring his pale chest, "Because it makes me forget my other ones… but once these cuts heal, that other pain… it'll come back."
The ebony-haired girl could do nothing but stare, lips parted due to shock, and brain unable to register what was being said, "Gaara… what other pain?"
"My dreams," he husked, moaning softly as he clutched his stomach, "I don't want to sleep because… they always come back. Don't tell Temari …"
"Don't tell Temari what, Gaara?"
Gaara redirected his gaze to her, eyes wide like a child's, "That… dad hit mom."
"W-What?"
"Uhn… Hinata…" Gaara leaned back against the wall, "When I was little… Mom and dad started fighting every morning. They hit each other. Temari and Kankuro were never around to see," he adjusted himself, "It killed mom so much, that she decided to commit suicide. I always knew… maybe… if I asked mom about it… she wouldn't have suffered so much. She would still be alive."
"Gaara…"
"Nn… I don't want to sleep, Hinata… it'll come back…"
"You… y-you don't have to sleep, Gaara," Hinata nervously reached out, pulling him towards her. He leaned against her, letting her run her fingers through his unkempt red hair, "Just shh… don't… don't think about those things, okay?"
"Don't tell Temari… she'll… she'll try to fix me again."
"What do you mean?"
"There's nothing wrong with me, Hinata… but she always thinks there is." Gaara coughed softly, "I just hate… what happened."
Hinata nodded, slowly, "I… I won't tell Temari on one condition."
"Hm?"
"You can't hurt yourself like this anymore," Hinata whispered.
Gaara scoffed, "It's not like I'm hurting you."
"Of course it does, Gaara. I love you."
"…Thank you."
"For what?"
"Loving me."
"I'll love you forever. But don't ever leave me, okay?"
He nodded, eyes closing.
Hinata managed the haul him to the bed, laying him down on the cushions gently. From the washroom she retrieved antiseptic, cotton swabs, and gauze that she had hid in the back of Gaara's medicine cabinet in case circumstances like this occurred. She sat down on the bed next to him, dabbing at his wounds, causing him to stir and moan in his sleep. Hinata flinched as she saw all of the scars and cuts that he had created, feeling her eyes watering again. She blinked away the tears, continuing to dab at the cuts, cleaning them. Once the bleeding subsided, she tossed the stain-covered gauze into a plastic bag, tying the mouth sealed, and then placed large band-aids over the scabbing cuts.
Six hours later, Hinata was still awake. She sat in her pajamas in the family room, for she could not stand being in Gaara's room any longer. Footsteps descended the stairs, and approached where she sat. Temari stood in the doorframe.
"Hinata, what are you doing up so early? Did something happen with Gaara last night? I heard some noises…"
The girl licked her lips absently, and then shook her head, "No… nothing happened. Gaara's fine."
Temari looked genuinely surprised, "Really? That's great. Uh, I need to go to work right now, and I probably won't be back until later. Tell Gaara and Kankuro for me, okay?"
"Okay. Bye Temari."
"Bye Hinata," Temari called, grabbing her coffee and disappearing out the front door with a slam.
Hinata exhaled, shoulders slackening. She felt a presence come up behind her, and she turned around to see a disheveled Gaara standing behind the couch. "Gaara…"
"Thank you," he whispered, leaning over the back of the sofa to kiss her on the cheek.
…Epilogue
The day after the incident, Hinata returned home to her mother. While that mother-daughter bond could never be made, they had functional discussions and maintained a friendly relationship. Hinata was asked to meet with Kurenai Yuhi for the next three months, and her answer would never change from "Gaara is better". After finally convincing the doctor and Gaara's siblings that Gaara was sane, none of them were required to meet with Doctor Yuhi anymore.
Gaara's behavior briefly regressed in September, and Hinata stopped seeing him for the remainder of the year. In February, Gaara finally visited her, having gone through private therapeutic sessions to appease her. They got back together, and after three years announced they were engaged. Gaara's dreams had ceased remarkably, however the self-inflicted scars remained evident on his chest and stomach, an eternal reminder of his depression.
Devastated over the idea of her daughter getting married, Hinata's mother drank heavily again, even though she had managed to abstain from alcoholic beverages for an entire year. Fed up with her mother's judgmental attitude and refusal to sober up, Hinata packed her things and left her mother that night. The next morning, Hinata's mother found her daughter's empty room, along with the note that speculated Hinata's eloping with Gaara. Hinata's mother was later sent to a rehabilitation center indefinitely.
Hinata moved in with Gaara for three months, attending school and helping Temari with household chores and cooking. The Subaku siblings' father passed away on a Monday. Each of the siblings split the inheritance money. They sold the house—Temari attended medical school and moved into a condo with her boyfriend. Kankuro finally proposed to his girlfriend, and moved into her apartment. Gaara and Hinata fled Sunagakure, with their money, their degrees, their passports, and each other.
The End
Notes: The most epic one shot that I will ever write. As most of my stories do, this one ends happily, I think. I had a great time writing it, and I hope you had a great time reading it. It's pretty unpolished, for the most part. I will probably come back and edit it, but for now I'm just leaving it as it is. I hope my mistakes weren't too bad!
What do you guys think? Should I write more GaaHina? More horror fics? More something? Review and tell me. (: Tehehe.