Note: I own nothing.
"We knew this would happen sometime, Gaara. As Gai-sensei served before me, it is now my duty as well. A valiant and noble opportunity! And I will be back within fifteen months, they said, and..."
Lee's uneasy smile does nothing. Gaara does not hear the remainder of his words.
–
He hates the green camouflage uniform. He hates the way their room looks empty and devoid of presence, even though Lee is not leaving for another month. Most of all, he hates his partner's constant reassurance that everything will be all right.
"But I need you," he whispers. His lifeline.
Lee cannot be convinced.
–
Gaara doesn't speak to him for the five days preceding the departure. At first, Lee's attempts to fill the emptiness are excessive and loud, but within the day they too fall short. The stony silence as they share dinner, the staleness he is greeted with when Gaara picks up the phone and says nothing, is deafening.
Then, when the bags are packed, car stalling in the driveway, Lee stands on the doorstop with one last forlorn look at the house they have shared during their years together. A large weight attacks his chest; Gaara clutches him with a ferocity neither of them knew he possessed, inhaling deeply, face burrowed into his neck to stop himself from shaking. It doesn't work. Lee returns the embrace with every ounce of longing, and after another promise of safe return, he is gone.
–
Letters are exchanged, stories told, photos sent. At some point, he stops receiving them.
Seasons change. Gaara learns to speak and sleep and eat again. Basic functions could not be more difficult.
Time passes.
–
The next time Gaara touches Lee, his ashes scatter throughout the forest, mingling with particles of dust and autumn leaves and the sprinkle of morning dew. As he grips another small handful and sprinkles them around the small clearing, a chilly wind rips through his thin clothes and pierces sallow skin, but he is numb. Chirps from some jaybird resonate overhead, but he cannot hear them.
His steps follow the ashes, shaky albeit with purpose.
Lee, my Lee.
We'll be together soon.
As you promised.
The cliff welcomes him, air rushes past. For the first time in a year, he can breathe.
There is nothing more.
