Disclaimer: I don't know who Naruto belongs to, but sadly, it's not me. Technically the Great Trout belongs to Terry Pratchett, if you've read his work. If not, find the library nearest you. A personal thank-you to my loyal readers and to you; please review if you have the time!
If Gaara Was a Mayfly
"Dude, you have to plan your life out more carefully," Kankuro the mayfly said, shaking his head. He raised a leg to brush his antenna. Gaara the mayfly was not amused and tapped the bridge under one of his legs absently, his eyes resting on the fine wood grains.
"Hey," said Temari, also a mayfly, with curves as sharp as a wasp. Many a mayfly fell to her womanly charms. Right now, she was looking angry, which meant that she was probably about to bite someone's head off. "Leave him alone," she buzzed. Kankuro backed up silently a few feet and waved one of his legs in the air.
"I'm just saying," he continued. "I mean, our life cycle started two hours ago, and he's just been sitting there the whole time. I plan on meeting a lovely woman in the next fifteen minutes, settling down and having a couple hundred kids, and then passing away quietly in my sleep before dawn tomorrow. At least I have a plan. Gaara, if you spend your twenty-four hour life on something like moping, you'll be miserable when you see your girl croak before you've so much as taken her out for some dead fish."
"So romantic," Temari couldn't help drawling sarcastically.
"Do you know how long it takes to find a rose petal and a candle wick?" Kankuro demanded. "Why, I could be dead by the time I so much as find one! Look at this river. Do you know how many mayflies loyally gave their lives to the Great Trout? Yeah? Well, I don't want to be one of them. Come on; let's go find you a girl."
"No, thank you," Gaara said calmly. "I will stay right here and watch the sun go down. That's all I want in life – a sunset, my friends by my side, and a good bridge plank under my feet."
"You could be dead by the time the sun goes down!" Kankuro exclaimed, waving his antenna theatrically. "Temari, will you do me the honor of—"
"No," Temari said tersely, before he could even finish the sentence. "And believe me, it's not an honor for me. A hundred of you… oh, it makes me dizzy just thinking about it. There's no way I'm going to curse the world by bearing your little brats. I don't think the world deserves it."
"What's that?" Gaara said suddenly, perking up. He saw someone in the distance, nearing the bridge quickly. The black and orange outfit and bright blond hair was a dead giveaway.
"It's Naruto," Kankuro said, squinting. "I still don't get why he got to be a human and we were stuck with being out-of-character mayflies for nothing but comic relief. The author of my life story will rue the microsecond I was laid."
"Let's say hello," Gaara said, hopping off the bridge railing and landing on the plank. He took a step forward and waved, calling up to Naruto as he passed by. Naruto's foot came down, and there was a pathetic squeak. Naruto, noticing nothing, kept walking. Temari and Kankuro were in shock. Well, Temari was. Kankuro just looked bored.
"Oh, the irony," he sighed. "Now I've got eight minutes left to find a girl if I want to stick to the schedule. Temari, would you—"
"No," Temari exclaimed, horrified. "Say one more word and I'm going to sacrifice you to the Great Trout. Gaara's lost 22 hours of his life! Now he's nothing more than a dark speck on a sunny wooden floorboard! How can you flirt when your best friend just died?"
Kankuro thought for a moment. Then he shrugged.
"Oh, well," he said. "One of the wonders of the world, I guess. I've got some girls to hit on and only eight – make that seven – minutes left. You have a nice life, Temari. When we're old and gray… in about sixteen hours… we'll compare kids and see whose are cuter."
And then Kankuro steadily took off and buzzed his way towards shore. Temari was scowling.
"That's it," she said, taking off and heading determinedly in the opposite direction. "I'm going to find the author, and I'm going to take a big bite out of her—"
The End
