Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, do you really think it would've ended the way it did? *Drowns my sunken OTP-ships in a river of tears.*
Warning: M for Must take Caution! Mischievous Males Making Mature Mayhem.
A/N: So I caved in the end. Here it is: part 1 of 3 in the Prequel/Sequel of Neji/Gaa variety to Carousel. This beast of a story is actually longer than its predecessor (despite me cutting out several scenes), so buckle up your seatbelts, because you're in for a ride.
BEFORE you start to read, take note of a few important pieces of information:
1. This story is not only written a substantial amount of time after the last one, but also circulates around different characters. As such, the writing will not be the same. Different characters think differently, perceive the world and relationships differently and notices different things. Thus: Different.
2. This story will have a darker tone than the original. Mostly –once again –because the main character has a darker background and psyche. His life and mind just isn't as carefree as dear little Sasuke's.
3. And most IMPORTANTLY this story will be jumping around in time quite friskily. I'm sorry if it causes confusion –I didn't do it on purpose it just wrote itself that way. Each jump is headlined by the season/date and year. The timespan ranges between autumn 2010 to spring 2014. (The events of 'Carousel pt 1&2' takes place during spring 2011, to clear that up.) Mostly, it follows two different arcs: Gaara and Neji's arc between 2010 and 2012, and a current one, taking place in 2014. Within these arcs the events take place mostly in chronological order. I will also mark each time-jump with a double lining like this:
-X-
Sorry again for any inconvenience. That said, consider this a new-year's gift from me to all of you. I hope that 2018 will bring you good conversation, scrumptious wine and interesting enemies.
(Not So) Merry-Go-Round
By: D.o.D.
Autumn, 2010: The streets of Konoha
The dry leaves covered the streets like a multi-coloured carpet of crimson, gold and orange. The children laughed as they played on the side-walk, adults smiled as they passed them and everywhere a warm September sun left the world shimmering with joy and beauty.
Gaara loathed days like this, when you could almost hear the soft jingle of angelic bells ring in the wind and strangers greeted one another in the street for no apparent reason. They were false; as fake and untruthful as a stepmother's smile. He preferred cloudy, grey days when the wind had teeth and the sky was a menacing threat to every dweller below it. Those days were when the world showed its true colours; a hateful, spiteful, cruel beast waiting to devour every good thing in your life.
'No', he corrected himself, 'not to destroy the good things… to expose their true nature. To show you that they were evil all along.'
He kicked a rock on the sidewalk and watched it soar into the bushes at the side of the road. Life was monstrous. He burrowed further into his roomy, red hoodie and glowered at passers-by from under the crimson strands of his fringe, while he headed once more towards a room built of meaningless questions and no answers.
'One hour', he told himself. One hour, and then he would be free for another moment in time and he would go meet Sasuke at Otogakure. Sasuke. At least there was one thing in his life that was not entirely evil. Two, counting coffee.
He reached his destination, a well-polished door of oak with a shiny plate on it. His fists clenched in the pockets of his jeans. As always, he allowed himself one deep breath of free air before entering and scaling the stairs to the second floor. He knew the way by heart since a long time ago, but it didn't make it any easier to go there. The ditzy secretary greeted him the way all plastic figurines tended to do: with a toothy smile and dead eyes. As was his custom, he tried to make his answering look venomous enough to kill her. As was her custom, she stayed annoyingly alive.
He walked right into the office. He had learned early on that by being approximately four minutes late he could avoid waiting in that suffocating room outside, and yet not get chewed out for being late. It also enabled him to spend four less minutes of the hour inside the obnoxiously welcoming aura of the office.
As he entered, however, there was a break in routine. The ask-don't-help idiot wasn't alone. Another man stood with his back to him, talking with the old bugger who had been an unwelcome part of Gaara's life for the past few years.
"Ah," said doctor-I-don't-know-shit, turning to address the newcomer, "Gaara. You're here." The redhead rolled his eyes.
"Really?" He drawled. "I hadn't noticed. It must come as a surprise, seeing as how we have an appointment." The old man furrowed his brow, as he was prone to do every time Gaara made a perfectly reasonable argument.
"I told you some time ago that I am retiring," he said, ignoring the comment and once again proving his unfailing skill at saying unnecessary things, "I'd like you to meet my successor." He gestured to the unknown man; who, Gaara realised, must have turned to face him at some point during his verbal exchange with the geezer.
He was young, in his twenties most likely, and the redhead could tell he was the type who'd be popular with women –tall and handsome with long, silky auburn hair and creamy, flawless skin. He looked like an absolute prick.
"This", Doctor Redundant continued, "is Hyuuga Neji." Hyuuga Neji extended a hand towards Gaara.
"Pleased to meet you, Gaara," he said. His voice was a melodious and rich. Gaara stared at him in silence, making no move to grab the hand presented to him. After a while it returned to its master's side, untouched. The old coot cleared his throat awkwardly.
"I was hoping the two of you would be able to get acquainted today, to ease the transition," he told his disinterested audience. Gaara kept his stare fixed on the younger of the two. He didn't like this. In fact, he disliked it even more than he disliked the room, or the old moron. He looked into the eyes of Hyuuga Neji, eyes that were an odd, lilac colour, and decided that he would rather listen to Sasuke whine about Itachi for twelve hours straight than talk to this man for a minute. Hyuuga Neji was opening his mouth to say something when Gaara interrupted him:
"I tried to shoot myself last night." He deadpanned, staring into purplish eyes all the while. A strange sort of tension entered the room. "But I missed and hit three kittens instead."
He didn't have to get acquainted with Hyuuga Neji that day.
-X-
Winter, 2013: The streets of Konoha
The streets were lined with snow and coloured lights and Christmas cheer, and laughter and excitement and all thing lovely in the world. Naruto beamed as two kids rushed past him, caught up in trying to pelt one another with balls of snow. He held at the very least twenty shopping bags in each hand, of this he was certain, and though his arms felt heavy his mood lightened the load considerably. Wrestling the array of plastic bags, he shouldered open the door to the homely café where he was meeting Sakura, Tenten and Ino. He spotted them easily –that shade of pink was hard to miss –and made his way over by way of pure will as his bags kept getting stuck in people and furniture.
"Hi guys!" He greeted energetically when he reached them. He was met with sweet smiles and happy 'hello's while he tried to fit all of his things and his –in his opinion –quite considerable self into the remaining space in the booth.
"Have you bought a build-it-yourself pony, Naruto?" Ino questioned disbelievingly, eyes on the fruits of his store-hopping labour. He laughed good-naturedly.
"They're presents," he explained easily.
"For all of Konoha?" Tenten wondered with a teasing smile. Naruto rolled his eyes.
"Those," he pointed at a stack of carriers, "are for my family. And those," he indicated another, "for you guys and our other friends." Ino's eyebrows climbed towards her hairline.
"And the remaining thirty-something?" She asked. Naruto looked at her in disbelief.
"They're for S'uke, of course," he told her, wondering silently how she hadn't figured that out herself. Sakura exploded into laughter.
"You really are the ideal boyfriend," she told him, her eyes twinkling with mirth, "how many presents does Sasuke normally give you?" Looking at her, Naruto couldn't bring himself to get even a little insulted. It was nearly Christmas, after all, and life was wonderful. In only two weeks he would get to spend the holidays making gingerbread houses and candy with Sasuke, and curling up with Sasuke on the couch in front of the fire, and walk with Sasuke through the snow under the stars, and kiss Sasuke by the river, and see Sasuke wearing that red scarf over his ears, and sleep in with Sasuke and…
"Earth to Naruto!" Ino called, waving a hand in front of his eyes, "I swear I'll slap that goofy grin off your face." Naruto, doing nothing to rid his face of what he knew perfectly well was a goofy grin, shrugged at Sakura.
"I have Sasuke, why would I need presents?" He asked her. Ino made a noise as if she was about to hurl. The other girls laughed.
"You sicken me!" The blonde told him imperiously, "besides, we're not here to discuss what a sappy boyfriend Naruto is, are we?" Her tablemates sobered up slightly.
"Quite right." Tenten agreed. Naruto nodded.
"So-", Sakura began, fishing a notepad and pencil from the vast and unknown corners of her purse, "the hen-do."
"Hold it!" Ino exclaimed, raising both hands, palms-forward, in a gesture of… well, 'hold it', "Naruto can't hear this." The male blinked innocently at her. "Besides, first I have a serious question." She fixed Naruto with a searching stare. "You're not wearing orange to the wedding, are you?" The blond man let his body collapse in a defeated sigh.
"I'm not allowed," he admitted, thinking forlornly of his orange suit, never to be worn…
"Wow," Sakura looked slightly impressed, "I must admit I'm surprised Kiba has thought that far ahead." Naruto gave her a look.
"Kiba doesn't even know what he's going to wear," he told her, "Sasuke is the one who forbade me from wearing…," he searched his memory for the exact words, "anything orange, brightly coloured, garish, too-big, too-small, too-formal or informal, top-hats, funny socks, sneakers, spinning bow-tie or anything with a print. I'm also forbidden from colouring my hair."
"Well, thank god for Sasuke", Ino declared. Sakura sighed.
"Now can we get on with everything that needs doing?" she asked, tucking a stand of pink hair behind one ear. "We need to book a weekend for the hen-do and stag night. And make a list of individual responsibilities-"
"Yours would be keeping Kiba from panicking," Tenten told Naruto across the table.
"Great," the man complained, "stick me with the hardest part, why don't you?"
"You're the best man!" Ino reprimanded.
"Well, I didn't get a choice, did I?" Naruto argued. "I would've much more preferred being the maid of honour; Hinata's cool as a cat about all this!"
Tenten collapsed into a fit of giggles as Naruto and Ino engaged in one of their customary verbal battles, accompanied by the noise of Sakura scribbling down things to do with practiced efficiency.
-X-
Autumn, 2010: The Geezer's old office
Gaara stared at Hyuuga across the desk. Hyuuga stared back.
"How was your week?" Hyuuga asked.
Silence.
"Are you doing well with your studies?"
Silence.
It had been over a month since Hyuuga took over his sessions, and he had refused to utter a single word to the man during all that time. He secretly relished in making the man increasingly more frustrated with his lack of cooperation. Every week, the Hyuuga would ask questions and he would ignore them entirely. Every week, the Hyuuga would have a new approach to making him talk and he would make sure it was a futile effort. He would lie if he said he didn't enjoy the power that came with it, but mostly, he just hated the man and wanted him to suffer, however small that suffering was. Across the polished surface of the table the Hyuuga narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.
"Gaara," he said in careful voice, "it's been five weeks and we've made no progress whatsoever." The redhead stayed silent. "I am faced with no choice but to conclude that this is not working; you obviously do not wish to speak with me."
'No shit, Sherlock,' Gaara though drily.
"As such, I have decided that my only remaining course of action is to contact your father and explain the situation to him."
Gaara felt a surge of panic and nausea slam into him. With iron will, he pushed it down. Desperation took hold of him; he needed to avert this –now.
"Admitting defeat?" He asked casually. Hyuuga raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.
"This is not a game, Gaara." He replied.
"Of course it is", the redhead countered, "everything is a game."
"Everything?" Hyuuga prodded. Gaara decided to oblige him; he needed to keep disaster at bay, after all.
"Life, loss, love, leisure," he elaborated, "lies, loathing, looking, leaving, listening, loneliness, longing, lessons, laughter," he paused, "leprechauns," he added for good measure. "Everything is a game, and every game has winners and losers." Hyuuga watched him intently.
"And you, are you the master of this 'game'?" he questioned. Gaara snorted.
"If I was, do you really think I would be forced to sit here and watch your ugly face every week?" he retorted.
"Who is the master of the game?" Hyuuga inquired. Gaara shrugged.
"I know you're trying to make a forest of the stick I just threw you," he told the other man, "but it's not exactly a new concept. It's not my own construction, thinking of the world as a game, it's existed for a long time."
"In this game," Hyuuga said, gathering himself for a new assault, "how do you win?"
"You don't," Gaara replied.
"Then why play?" Hyuuga questioned softly.
"In this instance," Gaara answered, "because I have no choice."
"We always have a choice, Gaara." Hyuuga told him. Gaara smiled wryly.
"Not about this," he said, "we all have to play."
"I don't play," Hyuuga confided calmly. Gaara smirked at him.
"Hyuuga Neji," he stated, "son of Hyuuga Hisashi, deceased, nephew of Hyuuga Hiashi, head of the Hyuuga clan. Prodigy. All your life you've been proving yourself to your family, mastering the ability to manoeuvre flawlessly in your world and rise above your birth right. You're telling me that you, you, don't play any games?" Hyuuga stiffened.
"You have researched me," he concluded. Gaara cocked his head to the side.
"Only a fool would face his enemies unprepared," he commented easily.
"I'm not your enemy, Gaara," Hyuuga said seriously.
"Of course you are," the redhead stated offhandedly. Hyuuga watched him with sharp, lilac eyes.
"Is everyone your enemy?" he asked.
"Of course not," Gaara shot back.
"Who are your enemies?" Hyuuga queried.
Gaara didn't reply.
"Do you have any allies?" the older man tried.
"Yes."
"Who are they?"
Gaara, once more, refused to answer. Hyuuga sighed quietly.
"How do you differentiate between an ally and an enemy?" he asked, obviously too stubborn for his own good.
"An ally", Gaara explained, "is someone who would crush an enemy if given the opportunity."
"You think your allies would crush me?" Hyuuga inquired softly.
"No." Gaara let his face transform into an evil grin. "I know they will."
-X-
Spring, 2012: Palace Hotel: the home of stuffy functions
His fist barraged into Hyuuga Neji's face with a satisfying crunch.
"Sasuke!" His mother exclaimed somewhere to the right, but he paid her no heed. Instead, he stared down at the figure on the floor with loathing. Someone was holding him back from throwing himself at the brunet –Naruto, he knew somewhere in the rational part of his brain –but he wasn't rational right now: his ears were ringing, his blood boiled white hot in his veins. He wanted to hurt the older man like he had never wanted to hurt anyone in his life.
"You cocksucking son of a cunt motherfucker," he spat, "I'm going to bury you with your own cock shoved down your throat you-," strong arms forcefully lifted his trashing body from the floor and away from the object of his hatred. People were murmuring in scandalized voices around him. He didn't care.
"Hyuuga!" He screeched as he was bodily dragged away from the scene.
Neji carefully dabbed at his broken nose with a soaked handkerchief. That had been… unexpected. He had never thought Uchiha Sasuke capable of losing his mind that badly.
There was a soft 'clink' as an ice-pack was placed on the sink in front of him. He looked up into the mirror and saw Uchiha Itachi's reflection standing next to him in the otherwise deserted bathroom.
"My apologies for my brother," Itachi said pleasantly, "it was a most ungraceful act." Neji shot him an unimpressed look.
'Ungraceful, indeed.'
"Still," Itachi continued pleasantly, "One can't help but wonder what would have my Otouto in such a… frenzy." He fixed Neji with his unnerving gaze –he had always felt an unnatural amount of fear in the face of Uchiha Itachi. "Considering that he seems to be on good terms with that bundle of idiocy he calls a boyfriend," Itachi pushed on, as if musing aloud, "that leaves only one other person my brother would protect so fiercely… someone who recently left the continent quite abruptly."
Neji swallowed dryly. Trust the older Uchiha brother to pick up three pieces of a 500-piece jigsaw and still figure out the main gist of the picture.
'Fucking prodigy.'
"Let me make this perfectly clear," Itachi said, leaning into Neji's personal space, "at the moment I have no hard facts. If I were to acquire those hard facts however…," the Uchiha trailed off, his dark eyes looking like pools of dead ice, "I really hope you are not the sort of spectacular stupid who would mess with someone under my protection, Hyuuga." Itachi stepped back, once again his normal, aloof self. "You really should see a doctor about that," he said pleasantly, and left.
As the door closed Neji fell back against the sink, breathing heavily through his mouth.
-X-
Autumn, 2010: The Uchiha Residence
Gaara walked right in through the front door, as was his custom. Many years of friendship and the fact that nowadays Sasuke was more or less the only inhabitant of the house made knocking entirely unnecessary. Removing his shoes, he felt the unpleasant weight in his chest loosen slightly, his shoulders relaxing and his breathing evening out. The Uchiha home had been his safehouse for a very long time.
Feeling marginally better, he walked into the kitchen to find his best friend engrossed in what looked like a biography about Margaret Thatcher, eyes scanning the page in front of him whilst his right hand tried to simultaneously guide a sandwich into his open mouth.
When Gaara entered he looked up and, fast as a flash, got to his feet; snack and book left behind on the table. He crossed the kitchen and halted in front of the redhead, eyes wide with worry as they fixed on the red mark spreading across Gaara's face.
It had been a long time since his father last hit him, so long that he had managed to suppress the empty feeling of powerlessness and despair it caused. He wasn't sure what exactly it was that had put his father in such a rage, though through the raving and threats he had been able to decipher enough to understand the gist of it. His father had talked to Hyuuga who, apparently, had led him to believe that Gaara had been telling lies about him to the psychologist.
Faced with Sasuke's concerned black eyes, he felt the full brunt of the incident slamming into him. It had been so sudden; he had walked into the house entirely unprepared for what he was about to encounter.
And then he was enveloped in warm arms. Gaara normally despised physical contact with other people, but Sasuke had always been an exception. The younger Uchiha was normally as averse to touchy-feely behaviour as Gaara was, but he seemed to have a sixth sense for when the redhead needed it; needed to feel that he wasn't repulsive and unwanted and evil. Gaara felt himself relax entirely into the embrace, a sense of belonging chasing away the worst of the shock. Sasuke released him, gave him a long look –as if to make sure he wasn't going to break –and shuffled over to the fridge.
"Soda?" he asked, opening the door and peering into the chilled space. Gaara tried to smirk, but it felt weak.
"Got anything stronger?" He inquired. Sasuke straightened and turned to face him. The Uchiha's lips twitched into a dry smile.
"That could certainly be arranged," his best friend replied, and Gaara smiled.
Autumn, 2010: The office that must not be named.
Gaara was shaking with pure rage by the time they had both settled into their chairs. Hyuuga looked as unfazed as ever, as if there had been nothing of note going on during the past week.
"Did you get into a fight?" Hyuuga asked, gesturing to the mark on Gaara's face; now a nasty blend of purple, green and yellow. The teen refused to reply, he couldn't; his teeth were clenched painfully to keep himself from lunging at the psychologist. Hyuuga sighed.
"Gaara, don't do this," he said tiredly, "don't undo the progress we have been making." Gaara lost it. Red flashed before his eyes, the unfairness of the situation sawing at his bones and obstructing his airways with every breath. He couldn't stand to stay in this room, with this man, for another moment. He had to get out. Out. He couldn't breathe. Fast as striking viper he flew from his chair, channelling the overwhelming emotions in his body into one single point of business: making sure Hyuuga Neji knew how much he loathed him.
"I'm undoing the progress?" he growled. Hyuuga looked startled by his sudden outburst.
"Gaara, calm down…," he tried, "I'm not the enemy."
"Do you remember," Gaara began, violence colouring every word, "how I define my allies?" Hyuuga nodded slowly.
"They are people who would crush your enemies," he replied.
"So then," Gaara hissed, "what should I call someone who helps my enemies to crush me?" Hyuuga looked visibly alarmed.
"I-," he began, but the sentenced faded into nothing as Gaara spun around and marched towards the door. He stopped himself, one hand clutching the knob, and took a deep breath. The fiery rage was storming over the walls of his mind and changing into something else; a cold, icy wrath. He turned and fixed his eyes on Hyuuga's lilac ones.
"My father made sure I received your message," his voice was quiet and even, and he let his hand reach up to indicate his face: "along with one of his own." Without another word, he opened the door and all but bolted from the office.
He didn't know where to go. The rage was still battering against his ribcage, but it was stilling with every passing moment, he was out of breath from running and still he couldn't be more than a block or two from the office. He didn't want to go home and spend the day remembering every reason why it really wasn't a home, and Sasuke was still in school. Gaara texted him anyway.
The energy went out of him like air from a balloon and he collapsed on a bench on the sidewalk. He didn't know how long he sat there, staring at the decomposing leaves in the gutter, but he knew the moment he wasn't alone anymore.
He had never seen Hyuuga look as dishevelled as now; out of breath, his clothes a bit rumpled and his hair slightly ruffled as if he had been running.
'Running –ha! Walking briskly more like. Can't see that prick ever looking undignified,' he groused internally.
"It was never my intention to cause this," said the pompous prick. Gaara pretended not to hear him, glaring instead at a puddle of water on the asphalt to his left. "Your father called and demanded to know what we talked about in our sessions," Hyuuga continued, "he claimed that it was his right as your legal guardian."
'Figures,' Gaara thought bitterly to himself, 'he can't bring himself to call me his son even when it would suit his goals.'
"I told him that everything that goes on in my office is confidential," the psychologist pressed on, "but he refused to accept and demanded I tell him what was…," he trailed off, as if deliberating what to say next, or whether to continue, "…what was wrong with your psyche." He finished finally, sounding as if saying the words made him feel faintly ill.
Gaara stayed silent. He wasn't surprised in the slightest.
"I told him that the problem does not lie with you," Hyuuga persisted, "but in all likelihood with surrounding psychosocial factors such as upbringing." He took a deep breath. "I'll admit I lost my temper, and saying that was highly unprofessional and wrong of me."
The puddle quivered slightly as a leaf landed in it. Gaara glared at the leaf as Hyuuga sat down next to him on the bench, his gaze fixed on the redhead.
"I'm sorry," The older man told him, "I was stupid and rash, and I'm truly sorry. Will you accept my apology?"
In the pocket of Gaara's jeans, his phone awoke screaming. He fished it up. The name Sasuke flashed on the screen and he felt some tension leave his shoulders.
"Yeah," he spoke evenly as he answered.
"Where are you?" Sasuke's anxious voice asked him through the receiver.
"In the city," Gaara informed him.
"I'll come get you", Sasuke stated, as if 'the city' was the name of a shop somewhere and not a rather substantial area of land.
"It's ok," Gaara assured him, "I'll meet you at Orochimaru's."
"Ok. I'll be there in twenty minutes," Sasuke told him. The redhead ended the call and rose from the bench. The older man imitated him, watching him closely.
"That was your ally," he observed. Gaara rewarded him with an unimpressed glance and started walking towards the bus-stop.
He had made it a few steps when Hyuuga's voice rang out behind him:
"Gaara," the redhead turned to face him, "will you give me a chance to make this up to you?" Gaara gave him a long look.
"See you next week." He said at last.
-X-
Spring, 2014: Kiba's Kitchen.
"Are you absolutely sure Gaara is coming?" Kiba asked him for the umpteenth time. Naruto rolled his eyes and fished a heavenly cold beer from his best friend's fridge.
"For the last time: yes!" He replied. "Are you going to tell me why you're so set on having the tiny menace at your stag night?" He walked over to the drawers, dug out an opener and popped off the capsule. Downing a deep gulp of golden bliss, he relaxed against the kitchen counter.
"Huh?" Kiba wondered from over by the kitchen table, where he stood pouring over some documents which looked frighteningly formal.
"Oi!" Naruto hollered, making the brunet straighten up in alarm.
"Wha-?"
"I'm talking to you," Naruto informed him, more amused than annoyed.
"Oh, yeah, sure… uh… you were sayin'?" Kiba asked, mimicking Naruto's earlier move and getting himself a beer. The blond waited patiently until his friend was done and sitting firmly on a bar-stool by the counter, ready to listen attentively.
"Why do you want Gaara at your stag night?" He repeated calmly, he was fairly used to Kiba spazzing out by now, "the two of you weren't exactly close."
"Oh…," the brunet said, scratching the back of his head, "well, him and Sasuke are close and I just thought It'd be nice to…" Naruto gave him an even look.
"As touching as the thought of you going out of your way to make sure my boyfriend has a good time is," he argued smoothly, "I don't buy for a second that you would be this nervous about him showing up if that was the case."
Kiba looked a little embarrassed.
"You've been spending too much time with Sasuke," he muttered, avoiding eye-contact.
"Kiba…," Naruto's tone warned him to get to the point.
"All right!" Kiba exclaimed, taking a deep swig of his beer and then slamming it down on the counter. "You want the truth?" He asked, meeting Naruto's gaze. "I want him there because Hinata forced me to invite Neji. There!" He finished with a flourish of his bottle. Naruto blinked at him.
"But… why would that make you want Gaara there?" He wondered, confused. "Wouldn't that just make the mess thrice as big?" Kiba shook his head.
"That is where you're wrong, my friend," he stated sagely, "having Gaara there might cause a greater mess, but it will be entirely theirs to handle." Naruto furrowed his brows in thought.
"I still don't get it," he declared after a moment.
"Well," Kiba replied, "if Gaara is there, Neji will be too busy to spend the night torturing me." Naruto blinked owlishly at him.
"That's…," he started, "…I'm not sure if that's brilliant or insane, actually." Kiba nodded.
"With the best plans, you never are", he said wisely. Naruto hummed.
"Hang on," he said, furrowing his brow, "have you told Sasuke that Neji's gonna be there?"
"Uh…," Kiba declared, looking decidedly shifty.
"Kiba." Naruto rumbled.
"Alright! Fine, I'll tell him. Just…," the brunet sighed, looking up at the ceiling, "just let me do it in my own time ok?" Naruto took another swig from his bottle.
"Ok," he agreed. Kiba looked relieved.
"Thanks, man."
They both downed another gulp of beer.
"Is Neji really that much of a problem, though?" Naruto inquired. His best friend glared at him.
"Say you and Sasuke are getting married," he said.
"Uh-huh," Naruto nodded.
"And you're having a stag night… or well, two separate stag nights, one each." Kiba went on.
"Yeah."
"And Sasuke tells you that because he wants the two of you to bond," Kiba made a face like he'd bitten into a lemon, "you have to invite Itachi to yours." Naruto stared at him in wide-eyed horror. Relentlessly, Kiba persisted: "Now, this isn't the Itachi you know today, is it?" He told a frozen Naruto, "it's Itachi after you've declared your intent to bind his little brother to you for the rest of your lives."
Silence.
Shakily, Naruto lifted his bottle to his lips and downed three huge swallows.
"I see your point," he acquiesced.
"I had a feeling you would." Kiba said knowingly.
"I still feel a little sorry for Neji and Gaara, though," Naruto admitted, "Not that I ever thought I'd say that sentence…," he added disbelievingly. Kiba shrugged.
"Sometimes casualties are a necessity," the brunet declared.
"Now who's spending too much time with Sasuke?" Naruto commented with a teasing grin.
"Shut it," Kiba groused, "what ever happened to those two anyway?" He wondered.
"Who?"
"Gaara and Neji," the brunet clarified, "why did they break up? All I know is that Sasuke lost his shit completely," Kiba smiled, a dreamy look manifesting in his features, "if I could count how many family dinners I've gotten through by replaying the memory of Sasuke's fist meeting Neji's face…" Naruto snorted.
"I'll be sure to relay that sentiment," he laughed, "as for Gaara and Neji… I only know parts of it." Kiba perked up, focusing on the blond once more.
"Tell me," he demanded. Naruto rolled his eyes at him; Kiba could be worse than a teenage girl when it came to gossip.
"Like I said, I don't know all the details," Naruto told him, gaze drifting to the side as he tried to remember, "you know that girl Neji hung around with at functions and stuff that winter? What's-her-face with the pretty eyes and shapely breasts?" he questioned. Kiba sniggered.
"Is that how you described her to Sasuke?" He asked. Naruto gave him a wry smile.
"It wasn't my most intelligent moment," he acknowledged. Kiba let out a barking laugh.
"How did you get out of that one?" He chuckled.
"I didn't," Naruto sighed, "I had to live through two weeks of Sasuke getting me all hot and bothered only to leave me hanging and telling me that if I wanted to get off I could fantasize about the pretty eyes and shapely breasts," he admitted sadly whilst Kiba hooted with mirth. "In the end I had to give up one of the standing arguments to get out of it." His best friend calmed down and gave him an odd look.
"Standing arguments?" he repeated. Naruto grinned evilly at him.
"Oh, you'll be finding out all about those soon enough," he cackled, "they're a part of life when you live together."
"What are they?" Kiba asked apprehensively.
"Practical stuff mostly, things that you can't seem to find a compromise for." Naruto elaborated.
"Like?"
"Well," the blonde said, enjoying watching his friend squirm, "like: I want an orange sofa, and Sasuke don't; or Sasuke wants you to put the toilet roll on that ridiculous holder on the wall; or I want a cabinet only for ramen and Sasuke wants a whole shelf in the fridge for vegetables; or I wanted to put a minibar in the corner by the telly and Sasuke wanted another bookshelf." He shrugged. "Standing arguments that doesn't end until one gives up." Kiba stared at him.
"Dude," he said, "the toilet roll is always on that silly holder at your place."
"Yeah."
"And you don't have a cabinet for ramen."
"No."
"You have two shelves for vegetables in your fridge."
"Yeah."
"Your sofa is black."
"Uh-huh."
"There is no minibar."
"Nope."
"There's a bookshelf."
"Mm-hm."
Kiba looked repulsed.
"How did he do that?" he asked. Naruto smiled sadly at him.
"It's a system," he confided.
"System?"
"Like Pavlov's dogs," Naruto commented thoughtfully, "whenever I didn't put the damn roll on the stupid holder I would get an icy glare and whenever I did I would get a kiss." He tapped his fingers on the counter, caught in contemplation. "The day I cleaned out that second shelf in the fridge, Sasuke actually did me on the kitchen floor."
"Ew," Kiba grimaced, "TMI." Naruto smirked at him.
"So you see, you'd better get used to the idea of stashing half of your video-collection away because 'there's no room for it in the living room'," he gleefully informed the brunet. Kiba looked hesitant.
"She'll control me with sex?"
"Yes." Naruto replied gravely.
There was a silence, then:
"My doggy style poster will never make it onto another wall, will it?" Kiba sighed dejectedly.
"Not a chance, my man, not a chance." Naruto replied, sipping his beer. His best friend sat quietly, staring at his own stubby fingers, clutched around his bottle.
"Wait," the brunet said suddenly.
"Hm?"
"So what about Neji and what's-her-face?" He asked eagerly, leaning forward on the counter.
"Oh," Naruto said, having completely forgot their previous subject, "well, they were engaged."
"What?!" Kiba gaped at him.
"Yeah. That's what Gaara told Sasuke at least; that Neji had told him he was going to marry her." Naruto shrugged.
"What's-her-face?" Kiba questioned.
"Yeah," Naruto clarified, "though like I said, who knows? I bet there's more to the story."
They lapsed into silence once more.
"You know," Kiba said contemplatively a few minutes later, "I hadn't thought about it before but..." Naruto gave him a wondering look.
"But what?"
"…But they were quite shapely, weren't they?"
-X-
Summer, 2011: A spot of grass in a park.
A warm breeze swept through the greenery and became a gentle caress against his skin, beside him Sasuke sighed contently at the sensation. They lay on a pillow of bright green, surrounded by birdsong and the smell of summer blossoms. Far off in the distance children were playing and people were laughing and conversing.
It was one of the rare days where he had Sasuke to himself. What was once an ordinary occurrence had become less frequent ever since earlier that spring, when Sasuke stumbled across the blond tornado of joy that was Uzumaki Naruto. Gaara was glad that his best friend had found someone who made him happy, content even, but it had its downsides.
As his thoughts lingered on the merry couple he felt a familiar twang in his chest. He would never deny his friend anything, but parts of him –the parts that longed for the comfort of normalcy –had always been a little envious of Sasuke. He had his problems to be sure; Gaara wouldn't wish the loneliness of workaholic parents or the terror that was Uchiha Itachi on anyone, but everything just seemed to work for Sasuke. Almost like the universe was paving the road ahead of him.
'Must be a perk of being born Uchiha,' Gaara grumbled in his head.
Sasuke had all the right components, somehow: stellar grades, a clean record, unearthly looks, plenty of friends, parents who –despite their absence –loved him unconditionally; and Gaara knew that however bad he was at showing it, Itachi adored his little brother more than anything else in the world. He just had issues expressing himself. Gaara almost laughed at the thought of Itachi acting out his real feelings towards his otouto; cooing and fretting over his every move and knitting him sweaters.
Still, fact remained that Sasuke had a very smooth ride in life, and the only thing he had truly been missing –in Gaara's not very expertly opinion –was a partner who worshipped the ground he walked on.
Cue Naruto.
It was almost like the higher powers had looked down onto earth and said to one another: "hang on, is that Uchiha Sasuke lacking something? This must be immediately rectified!" And in skids a boyfriend on a silver platter with a football in one hand and his heart in the other.
Unfortunately, Sasuke was also the only person Gaara could never hate, or even dislike for any longer period of time. If it weren't for him, the redhead probably wouldn't even be alive, and even if he was, he'd probably be inhuman. Sasuke was Gaara's reminder that someone out there could accept and love him regardless of what he was; he was the one rock in a sea of uncertainty. Thus, Gaara could never actually bring himself to wish that Sasuke was a little less fortunate; he could, however, grumble pettily in his head from time to time. It was getting harder to be happy for him, though, when it felt like he was moving forward towards a bright new future and Gaara was still treading water.
"Gaara?" Sasuke murmured from his left.
"Hm?" The redhead replied sleepily, pushing the traitorous thoughts away.
"Why Neji?"
Gaara opened his eyes, suddenly alert.
"What do you mean?" he questioned. Sasuke had met Neji on a handful of occasions, though never in his role as Gaara's lover. Uzumaki and friends shared some ties with two members of the Hyuuga clan, after all, and it was inevitable that his best friend would bump into the man sooner or later. From what Gaara had gathered, the two were less than impressed with one another.
"Well," Sasuke said pensively, "why did you choose him? What makes him so special?" Gaara contemplated the question.
"I don't know," he replied honestly, "why Naruto?" Sasuke was quiet for a while.
"Because he makes me feel safe," he answered finally, "and happy. And…," the Uchiha paused, "…he makes me excited about the future." Gaara hummed.
"Neji-," he began, but broke off to mull over what he was about to say. Neji didn't make him feel any of those things. Still… "Neji makes me feel real." He tasted the words as they left his mouth; they felt right; true.
"You are real," Sasuke pointed out. Gaara felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"But Neji makes me feel real. Like I have a real place; a purpose." He stared at a cloud overhead; it was so white it looked pristine. "He makes me feel like I have the power to change, to control, to… affect the world around me." He felt Sasuke's hand come up to rest on his arm.
"You always had that power, Gaara."
-X-
Winter, 2010: The office of questions.
"I'd like to talk to you about your fighting", Neji told him.
"You already have," Gaara replied dryly, "more than once."
"I'd like to discuss it again."
"Why?"
"Because," Neji said calmly, "you always give me exactly the right answers." Gaara gave him a long look.
"What?" He questioned, feeling unexplainably unsettled.
"You're an intelligent person, Gaara," Neji elaborated, "and you know exactly what society wants you to say, so you say it. But if I'm to be able to help you, you have to give me your answers, not the right ones." The redhead glared at him.
"Are you accusing me of lying?" Gaara inquired icily. Neji shook his head.
"No. But despite talking a lot you leave large parts of your life completely uncharted in this room. You speak of your family, but not how they make you feel. You speak of everyday things and activities, but not about what you like to do, or who with. Whatever people you consider your allies; you do not speak of them." Gaara felt exposed and uncomfortable. During all his years in therapy he had never spoken a word about Sasuke, it wouldn't feel right. Their friendship was no one else's business.
"I've talked plenty about my life," he countered.
"What are you doing after this session today?" Neji shot back, calling his bluff. He was meeting up with Sasuke at Orochimaru's, but there was no way in this hell or the next that he would tell Neji that.
"I'm going home," he said, letting his voice become a bit strained, as if by withheld emotion, "alone. And then I'll be doing nothing alone, and maybe if I'm feeling adventurous I'll take a walk –alone." He averted his eyes for a moment. When he looked back, Neji looked entirely undeceived. The older man simply nodded without comment, as if his little story was unworthy of his recognition.
"Let's talk about the last fight you got into. The boy you put in a hospital." The brunet said instead.
"What about him?" Gaara grumbled.
"What did he do to provoke you?" Neji wondered, leaning forward to signal how attentive he was. Gaara almost rolled his eyes at him.
"We've talked about this. He didn't do anything." He said in a bored voice. "He just bumped in to me and I lost it; it wasn't the first time. I've had lots of similar fights, this one just ended badly. And I regret it." Neji looked very sceptical at that. Gaara couldn't blame him; he didn't regret a single punch he had dealt out that day.
"I don't believe that you would lose your temper that badly without cause." Neji pushed. Gaara gritted his teeth.
"My father had yelled at me that morning," he admitted, "my siblings were passive as usual. I was pissed. He got in the way. It could have been anyone." A sliver of truth always coloured a story in the right shades, Gaara had found.
"What did your father yell at you about?" Neji questioned. Gaara went cold.
"You monstrous brat! I wish you had never been born! Wasn't it enough to take her away? Wasn't it?"
"I don't remember," he answered coolly, "something insignificant, no doubt." The brunet levelled him with a long stare.
"And the other boy, he didn't do anything to make you angry at him? Didn't say or do anything?" he probed.
"Get away from me you freak!"
"Ew! He touched you! Watch it so you don't catch insanity, Hiro."
"He's such a nutcase. I don't get why they'd even let him into this school. All he does is ruin things."
"My mum says he's bad to the bone. Not a sane cell in his body she says."
"Oi, you hear that, freak?! You don't belong in this school!"
"Yeah, and you touch me again and I'll have you arrested! You monster."
"No," Gaara replied dully, "he just bumped into me, nothing more."
-X-
April 25th, 2014: The Hyuuga Mountain Cabin.
Time: 16:13.
"Everything set?" Kiba asked as he entered the kitchen.
"Aye, capt'n", Naruto replied, saluting the groom-to-be.
"Great!" The brunet grinned. "Shall we get started on the brew while we wait for the others?"
Naruto laughed heartily and opened the fridge to reveal an outrageous amount of liquid courage, neatly tucked into every nook of the, honestly quite large, space. He fished two cans from the bottom shelf and tossed one to his best friend.
"This will be a weekend to remember", Kiba promised as he opened the container and downed a large swallow. Naruto couldn't help but agree. Of course, he had a completely different set of reasons in mind than did his best friend. What was a stag night without surprises, after all? Like he could let a once rambunctious youth like Kiba spend his final weekend as an unmarried man stuck in a cabin! No, the real plans took off first thing in the morning. He grinned victoriously; by the end of this weekend every man in the city would want him for their best man. He was just that good.
Kiba shot him a suspicious look.
"What are you up to?" he asked warily. Naruto shook his head.
"Nothing, just looking forward to tonight", he answered.
"Will Gaara make it?" Kiba questioned, once more proving that his store of Gaara-related inquiries was entirely bottomless.
"Yeah, yeah," Naruto waved his hand in Kiba's direction, "Sasuke's picking him up at the airport and they'll come straight here. Don't worry."
"Good," Kiba smiled, apparently satisfied. Naruto sent him a calculating look from the corner of his eye.
"Are you really all right with this?" He asked. "Who knows what amount of mayhem those two will cause."
"As long as they don't do it in my general vicinity," Kiba shrugged and downed another mouthful of beer. Naruto eyebrows shot up in a mixture of astonishment and disbelief.
"Wow. Dial back on the sugary care-bear attitude," he drawled pointedly. The brunet sighed.
"Look, it's not my problem. Besides, I'm getting really tired of having to watch Neji mope around like an adolescent girl whilst Sasuke shoots him death glares." He scratched his ear absent-mindedly. "If tossing them together in a cabin without cell-reception for a weekend is what it takes for them to get their facts straight, so be it." Naruto's frown cracked up into a grin.
"Aw", he cooed, "that's the kind of sweet stuff that made Hinata fall in love with you, man." Kiba threw a bag of chips at his head.
"Lay off with the creepy comments, dude. I'm to be a married man, you know."
-X-
December, 2010: The office of lies
"Have you considered going back to school?" Neji asked him. Gaara stared at the man with ill-concealed doubt.
"I am in school," he answered guardedly.
"I mean ordinary school," Neji clarified, "with other people your age." The redhead pursed his lips.
"Why would I want to do that?" he questioned.
"A chance to spend time with peers," Neji explained, "and a more routinely living. I think it could do you a lot of good."
"Well I don't," Gaara bit back. Neji's lilac eyes fixed on him, serious and unrelenting.
"Don't you want a chance at a more normal situation? School could prove to be a respite from your home; an opportunity to create new bonds, find new goals." Neji's words were delivered entirely without hesitations, and Gaara could tell that he had been constructing the arguments beforehand. This idea was likely something the older man had been considering for a while.
"Are you telling me to aim towards normalcy?" Gaara drawled. "What of that usual nonsense about special snowflakes and following your dreams?" Neji shook his head.
"There is nothing wrong with leading a normal life, Gaara. In fact, it would bring you closer to being able to 'follow your dreams'," he argued, unrelenting.
"Well, perhaps I prefer being extraordinary," Gaara concluded smugly. Neji sighed tiredly, letting two fingers come up to massage the bridge of his nose. Gaara stiffened at the act; he had seen it many times before, executed by adults and authority figures in his life when he wasn't cooperating. For some reason, however, it felt awful this time, seeing Neji do it. For a moment, it even made him want to climb over his angry fears and resentment and agree to go back to school. For a moment.
"Don't you want to spend time with people your age, Gaara?" Neji asked wearily, "make friends and memories; maybe even get a girlfriend?"
For the life of him, Gaara couldn't explain the rage he felt at those words. He had heard similar things before, had even told them to himself at times. But hearing Neji say it made it sound terrible in entirely new ways. It made him feel small and flawed and… non-existent. Before he could process these new feelings, he had flown out of his chair and slammed his palms onto the desk. Simmering with ire he leaned over, so that their eyes levelled with one another, faces only a decimetre or so apart.
"Well sorry for not fitting into the pre-ordered pattern," he hissed. Neji, quickly recovering from the unexpected move simply gazed back at him.
"Sit down Gaara," he told the teen. The redhead didn't budge.
"Why not make another note in my file? Surely you have some fitting psycho-analysis explanation for this behaviour?" he pressed on aggressively. "Maybe I'm suffering from delusions, or I'm bipolar. Maybe I have an Oedipus complex?" He sneered.
"I don't think there's anything wrong with you," Neji told him calmly.
"Well," Gaara countered, fast as a flash, "I guess that explains why I'm forced to come here every week, doesn't it?"
"It's obvious that I've brought up a sensitive issue, Gaara," Neji circled his argument, "if you would sit down we could talk about it."
"And what sensitive subject would that be?" The redhead asked him. "Do you even know?"
"I will know if you tell me," Neji said simply. Gaara felt trapped. Still caught up in a whirl of unwanted emotions and met with no reaction whatsoever. He wanted to shake Neji until that immaculate façade of his shattered, wanted to make him feel caught off guard.
In a vicious moment of impulse, he reached over and grabbed the collar of Neji's dress shirt in his fist.
"Maybe I don't want to go back to school," he said, his voice unhurried and articulate, "maybe I have no interest in making friends with my 'peers'." Slowly, he cocked his head to the side and let a sly smirk spread across his features. "Maybe I don't want a girlfriend." He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice to a tone barely above a whisper: "Maybe I want a manfriend." With deliberation, he let his breath ghost across Neji's lips before releasing the man's shirt and straightening himself. "We're done for today," he declared with a smug smirk. Then, he turned on his heel and left.
-X-
April 25th, 2014: Sasuke's Car.
Time: 18:34.
Sasuke hadn't realized how much he had missed his best friend until he stood in the waiting hall of Konoha airport, his hands clutched in Gaara's shirt and his face buried in his neck; breathing deep to catch the scent that he had spent two years without. Some part of him had been vaguely aware that to an outsider they probably looked like a couple, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to care. Gaara smelled like home.
Now, as he pulled out from the airport parking lot, he found that the initial burst of affection at seeing his oldest friend faded into the more complex emotions of the real world. Two years. Two years of phone calls and emails, but never a visit, and quite frankly, never a candid moment. As Gaara put physical distance between them, he had also invoked an emotional one, and that had hit Sasuke harder than him running away to Europe. He was trying to figure out how to communicate this properly -communications not being his forte, to be honest -when Gaara sighed. It was the sort of heavy, tired sigh that people let out when they are about to face something which is as tedious as it is necessary.
"Well," the redhead started, turning his gaze on Sasuke, "I'm guessing you have something to say?"
Sasuke glanced at him. He did have something to say. A lot, actually. He stared ahead, at the hundreds of cars ahead of him on the motorway, while a thousand different questions bounced around in his head, begging to be chosen.
"Why?" he finally managed to press out, although in a voice so quiet it almost didn't carry over to the passenger seat. Gaara sighed again, closing his eyes.
"Because…," he fell silent a good while, "because I needed to become my own master."
Sasuke narrowed his eyes.
"So, what are you saying?" He snapped. "That all these years, I've been a hindrance to you? Stopping you from… from whatever 'being your own master' means?" Goddamn, he could feel the tears starting to crawl up his throat. Of course Gaara had to be the spectacular exception to his no-crying-in-front-of-people-(unless-it's-Naruto)-rule.
"What?" Gaara sounded genuinely confused. "No, that's why I needed to get away from… him." He faltered a little, as if contemplating whether to say his name or not. It sent a jolt of empathy through Sasuke. He hated seeing Gaara -strong, self-sufficient, indestructible Gaara -hesitate to utter someone's name. Still, he had spent the last two years being understanding and empathetic, and he was fed up with it. He took a deep, calming breath. It smelled like home.
"I wasn't asking why you left Konoha," he said softly, "I was asking why you shut me out." He swallowed thickly, willing the prickling in his throat to go back to where it came from -the dark recesses of unresolved issues he kept firmly locked away like any Uchiha worthy of their name would. Gaara was quiet for a long time. He too seemed to be swallowing more than normally necessary.
"Because I'm fucked up," he said at last, his voice slightly higher pitched than usual, "and I couldn't handle the idea that you might hate me too, if you knew just how fucked up." Sasuke whole-heartedly gave up on fighting back the tears, blinking furiously to try and keep his view of the road clear while they rolled down his cheeks. He took the next exit and steered them into a gas-station parking lot, his fingers clenched around the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. When they finally stopped he reached over to pull his best friend into their second hug of the day. It quickly became obvious that seat-belts and parallel chairs wasn't the best conditions for an embrace; it became sort of wonky and a little painful, but it didn't matter. His best friend had come home, and Sasuke couldn't help thinking that somehow, it felt like 'home' was finally whole again.
A/N: Well, there's the first chapter. Do review and let me know your thoughts.
You might have noticed that date and time are only specified in the scenes from 25th April. This is because a lot happens that day, and it therefore needs a more specific timeline.
Also; if you've noticed a change in the friendship between Gaara and Sasuke: To Gaara, the friendship has a different depth and purpose. He is sensitive to, and notices, other things. For example: Due to his rather neglectful upbringing, Gaara notices physical contact on a whole other level than ordinary people do. 'tis how the mind works.
As with its predecessor, this story is already more or less finished and need only be beta'd, which I will do at earliest convenience. I hope to post with roughly 2-week intervals.
Until then: happy 2018, my dears.
Lots o' love,
DoD