An experimental oneshot on the GaaraHinata pairing. (After all, since Kishimoto is obsessing over Sasuke, someone must obsess over the rest of the characters.)
Disclaimer: original characters and universe – not mine…
This is meant to be read slowly, with proper pauses, as if spoken to oneself.
Constructive criticism and comments appreciated.
EDIT: now has a proper ending.
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The young man standing before her was… many things, she concluded for the hundredth time in these past several months the annual delegation from Konoha was spending in Suna.
He was awkward. Two heads taller than she, towering over virtually everyone she knew, thinly build – a man too stretched out. Surely, if not for the frequent training required by his profession, his spine wouldn't have been able to handle the weight of his upper torso. Even now, he stood ever so slightly stooped, his shoulders inclined forward in permanent fatigue. Too long, even for himself.
He inspired respect and admiration. He was a capable leader, proven time after time, recognized as a force not to be reckoned with throughout the shinobi nations. He was more intelligent than most – almost after every visit to Suna, Shikamaru would giddily complain that yet another chess game with the Kazekage ended in a tie. Furthermore, during his command and under his guidance, for the first time in Suna's history, the Sand village learned to combine their traditional militaristic schooling with a nearly perfectly peaceful foreign policy.
He defined melancholy. At first, one could mistake the lack of easy smiles and casual conversation for a tendency or preference for solitude; a majestic reservation. Yet his frequent presence in the headquarters' cafeteria and the city streets gave him away. He spent so much time among his people that they have stopped to notice him – she couldn't believe that upon the entrance of their Kazekage the dining laughing Sand shinobi would, at best, greet him with a poorly coordinated roll of "Kage-sama!" before returning to their food. Why, Naruto, who loved the people and was in turn adored by them – Naruto was seen so infrequently in the general public that, unless otherwise instructed, his underlings were always at attention in his presence. There was no reason to think that the Kage of Sand was any less occupied than the Hokage.
But the man before her surrounded himself with people quite purposefully, and yet – she hasn't witnessed a single occasion upon which he spoke to anyone first unless to give some governing related order.
She had seen him laugh. The sight stuck in her mind. When with Temari or his older brother or a couple of older commanders he was obviously close to, his laughter was like claps of thunder, abrupt, resounding. When apart from the group of people he was observing, his laughter escaped as soundless bursts of air. He would often bury his eyes into the lines of his fingers and hide himself from those he could not really laugh with. And regardless of who surrounded him, there was never freedom in his voice. Shy, unsure, forced, restrained.
He possessed the most rigid moral code. The only time she ever heard him raise his voice against Temari, his face flashed such crimson his hair dimmed in comparison: "Taking advantage of another's kindness or simplicity – accepted by our society, you say, necessary for survival, is it? I don't accept it, and every scum bag that will be discovered doing as much, I will personally throw out as far as the western boarder of the desert!"
So much for the greatest tactician in the county, and the infamous teenage killing machine. Whenever his sense of righteousness awakened, she had no idea. Yet hearing such conviction coming from him awed her and shamed her – her, who compromised her principles long ago just to breathe easier amongst her peers.
He was lonely. So lonely that the depths of his solitude she could not fathom, was afraid to try and reach. He reminded her of an abandoned child. He was, she supposed. And all the affection he received after being befriended by Naruto – it didn't heal him. She wasn't sure if anybody could bring him peace, save for himself. Aged two decades already, he still didn't love himself. He didn't even like himself. The best shinobi among the best, the highest of the lords, with thousands of dependents living in happiness due to his efforts, and he didn't even like himself.
He longed for people.
He just wanted affection. He would have been grateful for love in any amounts, from anyone, closeness of any sort.
She was a close friend of Naruto's. The Kazekage became visibly upset upon finding out that the Hokage was detained in Konoha at the last minute, and thus did not arrive along with the delegation. So shocked was she to see utter dejection and end-of-the-world acceptance on Kazekage's face that, forgetting the propriety of the moment, she hurried to do anything and everything to assure the Sand leader that Naruto was simply busy, and would never discard his friends.
Thinking about it, there was nothing more pointless than proving Naruto's dedication to his friends – in fact, he might have been one of the few who have that quality incorporated into their definition of themselves – Hello, I'm Naruto the endlessly loyal to my loved ones.
Even while she was rambling about the damned event that kept Naruto in Konoha, trying to pierce Kazekage's now lifeless expression with her convinced gaze, she realized that the Kazekage knew Naruto as well, if not better, than others. And yet, he looked as if all his hopes and dreams had ended simply because his friend couldn't keep a scheduled visit. Surely the Kazekage couldn't miss Naruto that badly? Perhaps not, but… if she let herself see him as a man away from his duty and his rank, if she saw him as Naruto did… Well, Gaara-kun was a bit too much, but Gaara-sama…
Gaara-sama must have missed Naruto. She knew the feeling. Always bitter-sweet. Always happy to know Naruto, to be cherished by him; always angry at oneself for being so permanently attached to someone who's hobby is busyness, angry at oneself for being upset over his perpetual and inevitable absence.
And so she rambled on. She must have told Gaara-sama everything she never told Naruto – how she noticed him before all others, how she admired him, how she worried while everybody dismissed him, how glad she was when Naruto was finally accepted by their peers, by the adults, by the whole village, including her family; how she could finally become closer to him without behaving against her character; how she could never think Sakura truly wise until the medic finally understood the value of Naruto's friendship and love.
She rambled on and missed the moment when jade eyes focused on her with interest that soon livened his face.
She did not miss the moment he smiled, gratefulness in every line of his expression. Her obvious effort to cheer him up was accepted; his smile brought her to her senses.
She blushed.
- Sorry, Gaara-sama, I got carried away. ..Apologies! Kazekage- sama!
- Not at all, and just Gaara – is fine. And I quite enjoy talking about Naruto myself. Although, who wouldn't? Oh, there – the sun is disappearing below the western wall – would you like to sit outside? It is cooler now, and we've got a little more than an hour until sunset. I could tell you about my own adventures with our mutual troublemaking friend.
That evening they sat on the floor of the Kage tower balcony, side by side, and recollected the numerous smiles Naruto had granted them. She watched Gaara speak. He would look out over his village – his soft voice weaving through the wisps of smoke rising from the freshly lit chimneys, blanketing the life below from the approaching cold of the night. Gaara would point out a round building in the distance, identical to the rest of the round buildings in Suna, and recall a time, a couple of years before Naruto's actions began to represent the actions of Konoha, when he and the present Hokage shattered the building's roof while chasing each other around playing tag.
From the way he spoke, there was no doubt – the things Gaara spoke of, he loved. His few friends, his city, the people he protected, the harsh land – everything that brought him out of meaningless and mindless anger. Yet he was miserable, and something was missing.
She watched Gaara speak, infrequently lower his eyes to find a thought in his open palms. There must have been some constant to this man – some explanation for everything that he used to be, for everything that he was now; what made it possible for those green eyes, which now so tenderly overlooked his domain, to regard every living thing with cruelty, indifference, and superiority less than a decade ago; what sort of intensity did this man harbor…
The sky shone lilac purple when the Kazekage finally turned to her.
- In his last letter, Naruto was bragging about some new theory he came up with in his sleep, which apparently will be his latest ultimate weapon in getting closer to Haruno Sakura… Have you heard of it?
- I don't know anyone in Konoha who hasn't; I believe Tsunade-sama is originally to blame for planting scientific ideas into Naruto's head. In short, Naruto pronounced quite publicly that to survive, a human must be embraced four times a day; to be content – at least seven. Sakura didn't seem any more impressed than usual, though…
- You think there's any truth to his theory?
She smiled, remembering how peaceful and happy were the rare moments when she and Hanabi would cuddle up in the eastern side of their garden on sunny summer mornings to watch Neji feed the messenger doves.
- Naruto… does have a point.
- Have you satisfied the requirement for today?
- Oh? I suppose I usually don't…
-Then... may I?
Before she could even consider processing his request, the man who was still a stranger to her wrapped himself around her arm.
- Kazekage-sama! Isn't this… unusual… for you?!
- I've never heard of that theory before now.
The passing time darkened the sky into a deep sapphire, and the shock was wearing off. Melting her petrified frame and trying her best not to touch him any further than she already was, she cautiously turned her head to look at the man who took her shoulder hostage. …Gaara-sama? A kitten! Eyes tightly shut, muscles tense, as if he had thrown himself at the mercy of an all powerful monster that could crush him at any moment. He barely breathed.
She couldn't believe it, it was absurd. She was sure Gaara could break her without breaking a sweat, and yet, there he was, about her arm, absolutely vulnerable. A man…? …a child, terrified of rejection.
- Gaara, are you… are you seeking contentment?
She felt him breathe, felt him open his eyes and with his reply, place his trust within her grasp.
- I am surviving.
Fragile, alone, miserable. Could she really uphold the weight of his trust? Her silence provoked him to intrude her thoughts.
- Please, I didn't mean…! It's just…you're soft, and you're here.
Soft? Hanabi always complained her shoulders were bony and pointy. Moreover, she was here, but, he didn't need her in particular. He was ready to confide, to lean on anyone who was willing to be human to him. He needed… she had no idea what he needed. A mother, an absolute friend, some sort of perfect security – unprepared to glance into the depth of the waters, she saw the whole iceberg of his trust, felt overwhelmed by it.
-Kazekage-sama… She carefully detached herself from his form; - actually, I… don't usually get touched… There are only a few I let near myself, and right now... isn't like me. And… it's dark already, and my companions will worry if I'm not back…soon…
She got up to leave, but stopped in her tracks after accidentally glancing back at Gaara. Troubled and lost, he looked but didn't see her; already sheltered within himself, rebuilding his pride, his spirits.
How many times already was he forced to reconstruct his faith in the happiness of the future, she wondered, how many more times could he strengthen himself before another defeat completely disillusioned him? Acting so cowardly after giving Gaara an opportunity to be so personally friendly with her by speaking so confidentially of Naruto - was she even worthy of receiving Gaara's trust? He looked so hurt.
Suddenly bold, she came up to the Kazekage, stood up on the tiptoes and tousled his hair. Gaara appeared shaken out of his trance and incredulous- this suited her much better than the helplessness she found in him before.
- Gaara-sama… stepping away, she blushed, but perhaps he couldn't see her embarrassment in the freshly fallen night, - Naruto always said my tea is the best in our village… Please come have some with me and the others?
Leading the Kazekage to the part of the headquarters designated to the Leaf delegation, she couldn't bring herself to forget: even a chinchilla's fur couldn't compare to the softness of Gaara's red locks.
He was problematically wholehearted. She wasn't even sure what made it apparent, but there was no doubt – the man dedicated his whole being to anything he felt or undertook. His stubborn straightforwardness in his interactions with people confused her to no end. He has been betrayed and disappointed by people more than most others, plus at a very tender age. Even though Temari claimed that that now there wasn't anyone who managed to use Gaara without being used by Kazekage in a much more thorough way, still – the lack of caution with which he dove into their friendship was miraculous. Even if Gaara saw through her to the core of her peace-loving nature, she couldn't believe that the bravely with which he trusted her was present mostly due to her character. It wasn't in her upbringing to be thus conceited. Surely, Gaara was simply an extremist. Furthermore, Temari confirmed her speculations – Gaara never held back once he began something, risking everything about himself, acting without regrets.
She wondered at him, and even envied him a bit. She considered herself lucky in many ways – her pale eyes always painted life in brighter colors; after her first chuunin exam she couldn't remember a time when optimism abandoned her; she found joy and solace in the mere existence of the wind and sun, and all types of weather were to her liking; she thought herself self sufficient, and tried to make those around her smile as often as possible; she took pride in being a content sort of person.
Yet regardless of her overall satisfaction with her life, and perhaps especially now, with countless misfortunes tucked under her belt of experience, complete spiritual dependence was particularly difficult to establish. She could never bring herself to be completely exposed, entirely unprotected. Never wholehearted even with those she had known her whole life.
But Gaara – perhaps it was desperation?
Once he had discovered happiness, it did not stay. Having something to protect made him stronger, gave him meaning. Acquiring friends taught him to hope. But friends, and even his siblings – everyone led their own lives, and could not care for the growing pit of loneliness and dissatisfaction within him.
She once asked him what he was looking for.
-Looking? Gaara adjusted his head to lie more comfortably on her thighs, and she had to wait before letting her fingers resume their run through his hair, - I don't really look. I wait. Things that I like appear unexpectedly, and frequently enough. So I take them. As long as I do not rush, I should be able to tell whether whatever I like is something that I need. And ultimately, one of these times, the thing I take must turn out to be that one thing that I need most. Or, at least, I look at the content faces around me, and tell myself that I'm on the right path. It is idealistic, I know, and in reality trying by itself is never enough, but… shouldn't it be?
She twirled his hair around her index finger; it was getting too long and messy, but she thought it would be a shame to cut such colorful softness.
- Seems an awfully greedy and wasteful method…
-Is it? This…emptiness… is awfully tiring… you don't know, but this feeling, it's a cage, I would not even wish it unto my enemies – it has been years, but everybody around me still expects me to be smiling, to project easiness and confidence instead of gloom, and before I even think of unburdening my troubles to someone I realize how futile that would be in trying to become closer with that person. And the worst part – you have noticed my moroseness in under two months. They have been around me since before I realized I was unstable – even if I become happy they will still think it their utmost duty to try and make me feel better – but I know that after so much time, they hate wasting their breath on pointless attempts to be polite. There are walls between us, and my misery is the heavy lock upon my cage. If there is anything that seems to fit the keyhole, wouldn't you want me to grab it? With all my might?
- I would. She began tracing stars on his pale forehead. – And this… I can't really believe that this is what you need, what will be the ultimate it.
He met her gaze.
- I want this friendship.
- Am I so pathetic that you are confident that I can't hurt you?
- You wouldn't. You are kind.
She wasn't sure that kindness of hers did her any real good, ever. Plus, she had always categorized it as chronic indecisiveness.
- You don't know that. I might turn out to be tricking you all along.
She made him smile.
- You wouldn't. You haven't hurt me thus far.
She kept forgetting that among other things, Gaara was like many other men – convinced until the end that he was always right. And although she could have blamed his haughtiness for her annoyance, honestly demanded otherwise; his willingness to rely on her was immense. And she was such a coward, and he knew it. He hasn't stopped looking at her since she had let her uncertainty slip.
- You don't trust me.
He knew. But at least, she knew better.
- Not yet.
Thus, he was presenting her with a perfect opportunity to feel accepted – if she could just overcome herself, overstep the boundaries she had meticulously created over time to reduce the damage of unrequited attachments and loyalties, she could finally experience what it felt like to be welcomed for her character, stripped down of conventions, duties, expectations, obligations.
He gave her a chance to discover herself, take pride in herself once more – how kind and caring could she really be without guarding herself against the one she cared for?
He offered her a taste of the rewards of dedication to uncertainty – showed her unparalleled freedom of unrestrained devotion to a human being outside one's family.
Looking him straight in the face, unwaveringly, she assured herself that she could take the challenge of Gaara's trust head on; she blushed when he closed his eyes. Oh yes, he saw right through her: her training, upbringing, her instincts, everything – called upon her to protect Gaara after he willingly let his guard down in front of her.
She blushed and smiled and tried to transform all her appreciation for the man resting on her legs into the gentleness of her touch. She was sure now – he spirit was uncommonly strong, and seeing the effort he invested into making their acquaintance comfortable – if she wanted to keep liking herself, she had to give it her all too.
He was hypocritical. And so amusingly, that she simply had to point that out to him.
- You're such a hypocrite!
He smiled in delight.
That summer evening was especially warm, and because they felt like borrowing as much of the sun's last warmth as possible, instead of sitting at their usual spot, they were comfortably positioned outside the city walls, not too far from the main gate. Gaara had erected the snuggest sand chairs for them.
- What did I do to deserve such an accusation?
- Did you not tell me that you'd take everything that you wanted?
- I did.
- And did you not say that you wanted to experience something similar to the relationship between your sister and Shikamaru badly enough to give up our evening hug therapy?
- I'm afraid I did.
- And did you not say that since you are not attracted to anybody in particular at the moment, that you would take anyone, anyone at all, simply if they gave you a chance at dating?
- I was feeling desperate at that moment!
- But you did say that!
- I consent, I did.
- So what was that about?
- What was, where?
- That – your confusion back at the cafeteria? You wanted to be liked so badly, but when that girl confessed to you, in front of everyone too, you just apologized and left! I've seen her around your closest circle of advisors, and I've heard from Temari that you used to be her sensei – so she's even a good acquaintance, isn't that a plus?
- I suppose I am pickier that I thought.
She hoped it didn't show, but she was very glad that he thought wrong. The idea of giving up Gaara's company to someone else, especially to a girl, did not tempt her in the slightest.
- So what is your objection against her?
- I know her well, and I am not attracted to her, not even physically.
- What? She was…curvy…enough…
- Certainly, her figure is acceptable, and she is reliable and funny at times, but that's it – and if you have watched her, even you could not call her very feminine.
Indignantly she concluded that Gaara was as big of a hypocrite as his standards were high. Meanwhile he continued.
- I cannot see her as a girl. Like the men around me, she is just a person.
Suddenly the most important goal in the world was to find out which category of associations she fit in. The curiosity was quickly overcome by timidity; he noticed.
- What did I say? You act if the wind had just started blowing in the opposite direction.
- Gaara, uh… Am I… feminine, at all? I mean, I can't tell myself, and if I know, if I'm not, I could at least work on myself… I'm not trying to trick you or…I'm just interested…a bit…
Since she was hiding herself by diligently observing her trembling knees, she did not see him turn to look at her. So bold was that question for her that blood thundered in her ears from mortification, and therefore she did not detect the hesitation in Gaara's answer; hesitation was unusual for him.
- I would prefer to see you as a person, but you are feminine.
- Oh good…
- But I cannot see you as a girl either.
- Eh?
She shot her head up to look at him; momentary relief completely replaced by concentration and the sinking feeling of shattered hopes. He stood up and took two steps into the setting sun before continuing.
- You are a woman.
Well, she had no idea what to interpret that as, but Gaara didn't give her much time to dwell on the thought – momentarily turning to her, he invited him beside himself with a nod.
She walked to stand in front of him, so that the awareness of his presence could not fully distract her from watching the twilight.
- I suppose my being a woman, objectively speaking, is a good thing…
- As good as the fact that the sun will rise tomorrow, and will rise for days, years to come even if we cannot see it, even if we are no longer here to see it.
- That sounds very reassuring, but I have no idea what it has to do with my being a woman…
She would have tried to make some sort of joke, but her thoughts were halted into nothing by the feeling of Gaara's frame against her back, his arms experimentally tightening around her. She was not prepared and had almost gone into shock at the contact. She had let him hug her countless times before; but Gaara would usually either tackle her unexpectedly, almost making her hold her footing, or he would hide himself in her shoulder, just like the first time; yet he has never held her outside the balcony, and never had he embraced her with such apparent care. Her touch was always the source for comfort for the child in Gaara. But this embrace…it felt different.
- You scared me.
- I didn't mean to. There is something I've always wanted to do…
- Eh?!
- Please don't move.
Embracing her fully for the first time, trying to enclose as much of her as his height allowed, Gaara leaned down to a particular spot of her jaw line, just below the ear, and kissed her; pressed his partially open lips to her skin, inhaled tentatively through his mouth, swiftly closed his eyes in rapture, gave a hot shuddering breath. She felt his cheek press into hers as if for support. The golden disk of the sun disappeared beyond the dunes. They stood still.
- Gaara… What exactly did you always want to do?
- To hold a girl and kiss her, like that.
- …oh… so… an experiment, this?
- Yes.
- And… this is the only time?
- Yes. Thank you.
- Ah… and tomorrow – is the same as yesterday?
- Of course.
Now, what was she expecting? She had run herself into a corner. Of course, just a girl, any girl would do, of course, thank you, of course. Good friend, friend wholeheartedly, friend for comfort, but anyone would do – she knew that, thank you, of course she knew that! No reason for that growing tightness in her throat – that hypocrite! Being his friend, no objections, but being any girl – why did he have to reject that poor girl in the cafeteria – she surely would have been happy to be his experiment many times over! Any second now, and he would be able to tell – the liquid pain would stain his cheek as well as hers, and he would know, and what was all this for?
She had lost. Perhaps being wholehearted was never her talent; she could not sacrifice herself for this friendship.
- Gaara… Gaara, I'm afraid you cannot reply on me.
She escaped his warmth.
- I'm, I'm sorry – you see, I'm sorry – you cannot, you can't, I just… I cannot trust you, Gaara.
She fled.
The young man before her was silent. The Konoha delegation was leaving in an hour, and she has stolen the Kazekage from the end of the farewell ceremony. They stood on the balcony of the Kage tower, she in the doorway, he – expectantly watching her.
They had not spoken since their evening at the Suna gates, not during official meetings, not outside of business. She had returned to greeting him as Kazekage-sama, and after days of trying to keep her thoughts away from Gaara, she even missed the moment when the image of his self-satisfied expression, the one he would always show when her hands played with his hair, dissolved from her memory.
The days apart put things into perspective. She missed his voice, his quiet smile, his annoying candor and the feeling of realness that surrounded him. She missed their comfort, their seamless coexistence. She missed the wholeheartedness.
If she had left Suna like this, she would regret it. Everything that she began to like about herself would go to waste. His time would go to waste.
In the end, she simply wasn't someone who gave up half way.
Hadn't she sacrificed her body countless times to become stronger, to become worthy of her name, worthy of her status as a Konoha shinobi? Surely, a couple more emotional scars could not deter her from being worthy of the feeling that was kindled by this man.
- Kaze-uh, Gaara-sama! Could you please come by, a bit..? There… there is something that I've been wanting to do for some time now...
Even standing on the doorway step, she barely leveled with him. Standing up on the tiptoes, curling her fingers into his hair to lower his head, radiant, flushed cherry crimson, she kissed Gaara, a lingering brush of feathers against his surprised mouth.
- I'll be in Konoha, if you need me.
Almost out of the room, she turned to take a good look at the man left at the balcony entrance.
Hyuuga Hinata looked at her Gaara and smiled.
After all, the young mad standing before her was the man she loved.
….
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Hope that made you smile, just a bit.
"Chapter 2" is a very short second ending, if you will…