(Gaara love story) A new girl arrives in Konoha. She's fast, strong, and mysterious. She's never spoken a word since her arrival. In fact, she hides her face behind a bandana, which she's never taken off. No one knows her or her past. She's always alone. She has no friends nor does she try to make some. She excludes herself from any type of social gathering. She catches the eye of Gaara. He's intrigued by her. He becomes determined to learn more about her and save her from her self imposed exile. But will he be anymore successful than the rest? (Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Naruto Characters. And expect Blood,Cussing, Violence, and Lust.)
"God, you're being soo stupid!" Natsumori yelled.
"Oh, yeah? I well I don't care!" I yelled back.
"I never want to talk to you again," His eyes gleamed with anger, " My friendship with you was just a waste of time!"
I sucked in my breath. His words hurt, like a knife stabbing my chest. Hot tears welled in my eyes.
" I h-hate you," I choked out. " I WISH YOU WOULD JUST JUMP OFF A CLIFF!" I screamed, channeling all of my hurt and rage. Then something happened. Natsu's eyes glazed over. There was pause of silence. He shook his head and his eyes cleared.
"Fine, maybe I will," He spoke, his words barely louder than a whisper. For some reason, his words seemed harsher. I stood there, staring at him. Him staring at me. His eyes full of hatred. I was too stunned to speak. He turned away before I had a chance to take my words back. I watched his back retreat into the night until I could no longer make out his outline. I closed the door and turned the lock. I sat down numbly at the kitchen table, staring out the window into the night. I thought of nothing and about Natsumori at once. I don't know how many minutes or hours passed before I decided to go to bed. I turned and walked out of the kitchen, not bothering to push in my chair. I walked up the stairs to my room and laid down. I tried to sleep, but it wouldn't come. I laid awake staring at the ceiling. I felt so. . .empty and lonely. I thought of our friendship. Natsumori is my best friend. Or, well, was. I tried to picture my life with him no longer in it. I couldn't. Our friendship couldn't be over, could it? It was just a fight. Friends fight all the time, I told myself. I turned on my side and my eyes grew heavy. At some point I drifted off into a fitful sleep.
I awoke early in the morning. I looked at my alarm clock, it read 4:57. I looked towards the window. Outside the clouds were grey and gloomy, wind raked the tree branches, and rain puttered away against the glass. I sighed turning my head back to the ceiling. I replayed everything that happened in my head. I thought of all the words that were spoken. I continued to replay everything. A knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts.
"Emi, wake up or you'll be late for the academy," my mother called gently through the door. I listened to her footsteps get quieter as she walked down the hall. I groaned and rolled over, snuggling deeper into my bed. I decided I wouldn't get out of bed today. Yes, that sounded good. I closed my eyes and willed myself to block out the world outside. I dozed lightly, until my named was called.
"EMI," my mother's voice sounded from the kitchen," Breakfast is ready." I sighed and threw the covers off me unceremoniously. I rubbed my eyes. They were sore from crying last night. I stumbled out of bed and downstairs. I sat down as mother stood at the sink, her back to me. Breakfast was laid out on the table. There was pan full of scrambled eggs, bowl full of fresh fruit, a plate stacked with pancakes, a pitcher of orange juice, and a tray of toppings for the pancakes. Not being hungry I opted for orange juice only. I took a sip. It tasted wrong, too acidic and it burned going down my throat. My stomach churned and I felt nauseous. I sighed pushing the glass away from me. My mother turned around and looked at me.
"What wrong sweetie?" she asked, filled with motherly concern.
"Nothing," I muttered, "Where's dad?"
"He had to work early today. Are you sure you're alright?" Her eyebrows were knitted with concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired." I replied.
"Okay, then. Well get ready, you're going to be late."
I sighed. "I'm not going."
"What?"
"I said I'm not going to the academy today."
Mother gave me a confused look, "Why?"
"Because I don't feel like it," answered annoyed.
"Well that's no excuse," she answered matter-of-factly, "Now get ready."
"No. I'm not going."
"Oh, yes you are and that is final!" She stated, raising her voice.
" I'm not going to academy today! " I snapped. I embraced myself for the screaming match to come. But it didn't. Her eyes glazed over. Then she blinked them a couple of times. They were clear again.
"Okay, sweetie. If you don't feel like, then it's alright." She smiled at me. Then turned back to the sink, humming, acting like none of the argument happened. My eyes widen and my throat tighten. I was frozen in place as horror raced through me. No way. . . No. That can't be possible. I struggled to take in air. I couldn't have. . .Could I?