Sound and Meaning

Continuation… a glimpse at Neji's life…

I do not own Naruto. Be thankful.

CHAPTER 2…

Gaara sat down at the counter of the coffee house, trying to mentally convince himself not to snap violently and kill the waitresses that keep screeching around him. However, as the gawking seemed to be never ending, he started to rub his forehead, muttering the words "don't kill them, they're Naruto's friends, they're good for the business"

He didn't really know why they would always approach him to talk about whatever 'interesting' things had happened during their shifts. The conversation was mostly about how cute Sasuke was when he sipped at his coffee, how hot he looked when he was reading and other oh so interesting facts about the raven. Yeah, they didn't care that Sasuke was gay or that he was dating Naruto.

This time, how ever, their conversation wasn't about Sasuke's deeds. They were talking about the guys who had previously visited the place.

"Aw, Gaa-chan you missed them!!! And they were really hot!!" Ino squealed.

Oh yeah, they used to address him by the pet name of Gaa-chan, simply because they were the dreadful spawn of the Devil.

"Yeah! Too bad cause we already called for them!" Sakura said in a playful voice.

Gaara glared at them and they just laughed, then he went back to ignore them, as he kept repeating his mantra. Soon they went off to attend some tables and he was able to regain his sanity. He then saw his friends sitting at a table, Naruto trying to go through his class notes while Sasuke was trying to molest him. He chuckled. It was nice to see them happy, but for some reason it saddened him too.

A little later, it was time to close. He had taken it as a personal duty, to close their establishment once it was clean and ready (he didn't do the cleaning though, some guy named Guy did it), then he would walk to his place. Sasuke and Naruto lived together, and their apartment was relatively close, they'd leave early since them both had school in the morning.

Amazingly, Gaara's apartment was closer to the store than the one his friends shared. It was at the most a 15 minutes walk; somehow he managed to turn it into an hour walk.

Roaming around the city at night was never boring; somehow you could even say it was more vivid than in the day, probably a light effect but still. The area in which the coffee house and Gaara's apartment were located was quite busy; it held many establishments and was always crowded.

Gaara walked aimlessly, not really paying attention at his surroundings. Depending on the sight, he'd decide which way to take; at this point he already knew most of the places around the area. He'd walk until he'd reach either his apartment or some place where he would want to stay. That's when he arrived to a little park, it was way out of route from his place, but it was beautiful.

Gaara walked across the park and lay on the grass, glancing over the stars. The spot he picked, the same as always, was on a darkened area, ideal to think without being disturbed.

His thoughts were directed to the same things, going through them over and over until he wished he could just sleep and forget.

The first of these things was the void he felt inside, that he considered should be filled with purpose. He remembered one of the last conversations he had with his father; he had told him he would amount to nothing, that his life will be meaningless and that if he ever made it to his twenties it'll be more than what he expected of him. At the time he had fought him, he had said not to dare pass judgment on him for he barely even knew his own kid; he had said things, so horrible, yet he would never regret them. But he never contradicted the fact that, indeed, his life was meaningless.

Even now, he could prove his dad wrong: he didn't throw his life away; but being alive was something extremely different from feeling alive. He had all the tools. He had caring friends, he was in school doing something that he loved but that never filled the void, he had responsibilities… but all these things he saw as requirements to follow a path that he didn't want to, nor could, understand.

He was waiting for something to come and explode on his face that would force him to feel and to believe that these 20 years of life hadn't been wasted. Maybe that was the reason he liked spending time with Deidara, things always blew up with him around. But he needed something, anything that would show him how it was like to live and see with a passion. So he kept waiting.

Time moved so slowly.

Gaara felt his face wet, then he realized it was raining. It could only mean that it was time to head home. He made an attempt to lift himself up, his hand flinched and the rest of his body stood still. There was no second attempt, until the rained had already stopped.

Somewhere else…

A tall, slender figure walked towards the door of an apartment building. From afar he seemed to be cool and calmed walking under the rain like it was a warm summer day, undisturbed. But if you were to look closer with such intensity that would blind you, you could see the guy was fuming.

For Neji, this day hadn't been a good day at all. School was getting on his nerves, he never ever gave school duties more time then what they needed; which wasn't much since he was really, really smart, a prodigy some might say. And now he had to spend the little free time he had in some stupid project and not only that but he teamed up with the laziest guy in the class. Sure, he wouldn't deny that Shikamaru was a genius, he could put up a plan together anticipate the flaws and cover them, find the easiest way to make everything work perfectly, but to actually go through with them? NEVER! So there he was, putting Shika's plans in motion, arranging dates, talking to people, setting up, for fucks sakes, book and art selling's at some coffee house that already did it!!! But fuck it, it was easy. Apparently Shikamaru had a friend who told him that in said establishment they did things of the sort, but that the owners didn't really have time to set them up or find the contacts, so they only did it when asked, the plan was that they will find the contacts and set up the events on weekly basis for a couple of months, make profits and ace the class. Simple and easy, but, as the Nara would say; too troublesome.

And there was the fact that his uncle, Hiashi, wouldn't lay off his ass, wanting him to take an internship on his company, so that he would 'get used to the work, for when it was time for him to run it'. If he was already doomed to spend the rest of his life working on a corporation that he loathed, why in the fucking hell would he want to rush his fucked up fate?! It was unbelievable.

And to top it all, he let Shikamaru borrow his car for he thought it'd be nice to walk home. Who would've known it was going to be pouring rain? So now, he was tired and soaked and unable to let out all that he wanted to let out.

As he got inside his apartment, he saw the little light of his message machine flickering. TenTen had been calling. He erased all the messages without hearing them; he didn't need to be yelled at; not now, not ever.

He hated it. Everything. His life and how had he managed it, how he led himself into a dead end and just stood there, conforming with the fact that it was all over and acting like everything was so damn good. He was supposed to be the rebellious one in his family, damn it!

After his parents died and he was left with his uncle and his family, he had sworn that he wouldn't become what both his father and his uncle were. Before his parents' accident, he barely ever saw his father. Always in the office, always working, too occupied to even glance at his family. Neji didn't even consider him a father; he was just a guy he was related to. His mother, on the other hand, was always sad with no purpose in life but to be a business man's wife and a "mother"; complaining because she always came second to her husband, and paying no mind to her son. Same story with his uncle.

The only reason why he was so welcomed by the man was because even when he wasn't his son, he was perfectly fitted to be his successor, stressing the 'not his son hence not real heir' part. His older daughter, Hinata, never cared for business, even if she had accepted to become the heiress of the company, it all changed when she decided to become a nurse and threw all of his father's plans for her through the window. Neji had never been so proud.

And in some twisted change of fate he was doing exactly all the things he swore he'd never do. It had sounded ok at the beginning, but God, it was just wrong. Heading faster and faster towards his uncle's dream, leaving him with no chance to even glance at his own wishes.

Time moved so damned fast.

The thing with TenTen was a whole issue on its own. He had thought, when the 'working in the company' idea seemed good, that he would have a girlfriend through his college years, would propose before he graduated and get married once he were working for his uncle, by the time he'd taken over the company, he would have his family and be a responsible man and an example to society, as expected from a Hyuuga.

Of course, at the time he didn't really think that his attraction towards males would be an impediment. He thought it was just a phase.

He then found a nice girl. She had brown hair and eyes, beautiful face, nice body; she was smart, athletic, and fun to be around. They got along so well, Neji thought it'd be a good idea to date her. He couldn't tell between his reasoning and his feelings for his life, so what was just merely convenient for his plans, he confused with attraction. Of course, he cared about her, but not in that way. She was his friend and yeah, she was pretty interested in him, but he wasn't in her, and now he was paying the consequences. He never meant to hurt her, but he did it, he does. And no matter how much he tried to convince himself, he just couldn't leave her.

In this kind of times he wished he had picked some bimbo that would be easily confused for a sex toy and that wouldn't give a fuck about him loving her or not, as long as he took her to nice places and bought her nice stuff, but no, he had to pick her.

They grew distant; their relationship became monotonous attached by her attempts to fix it, in which he always gave in. He felt the guilt build up in him, every time they fought, he'd run to some bar and pick up a guy to spend the night with. Then he'd go back to her. He hated the taste on his mouth every time he'd tell her that he loved her; he knew it was a lie, but it fixed things. He was sure she knew he cheated on her whenever he had a chance, he just guessed she didn't know it was with guys. He hated it, that she never got mad, that she wouldn't leave him.

He knew he was an asshole and only hoped for the day she would get tired and dump him, for he just couldn't get himself to do it. He feared that day would never come.

Right now he was washing his face in the sink of his bathroom, feeling a little nauseous, thinking about going back outside and head to a bar or something. He grabbed a towel and started to dry his face and hair, still standing in front of the mirror. He saw his reflection, fixing his eyes on the tattoo he held in the middle of his forehead. It was a swastika like symbol, with two lines on the sides, a little reminder he had gotten; to never forget that he was just a pawn of his family's and of fate's game.

He always covered it with a bandana; he didn't want to have people asking questions about it, uncomfortable questions for which he had not a single polite answer. And that was his game; to be nice and polite to everyone, to be educated and always react with good manners, to be perfect and flawless.

That was ok, acting cool and collected, making polite small talks with people, charming them, gaining their trust, getting what he needed from them and getting away. He was good at that, but that was it. He wouldn't talk about himself, he would not explain himself. No. If he was to be used like a toy, he'd act like the lifeless toy he was supposed to.

Soon he dismissed the idea of going back out while he removed his wet clothes, exchanging them for dry ones, and then went to lie on his bed. He felt tired, he just wanted to forget. Dreaming always helped a little. Just a little, but that was all he needed, to hold the thought, if just for a little while, that things could be different.

Further away

Naruto couldn't help but keep thinking about his friend. Somehow, he had always thought he had failed the redhead.

He remembered the day they met; he saw the Sabaku approaching the swings and thought that he may make a friend… no one, but handful of people would ever get near him or talk to him. He never knew why and he didn't care, but that didn't meant it didn't hurt.

He was hopeful, like always, especially when the guy went directly at him. At the moment the blonde was about to talk he felt a fist on his face that threw him out of the swings. Normally he would've just let it slide, but this time, he was just tired of all the bullshit, he hadn't done anything to this guy; he didn't even know him! What the fuck was his problem? He felt his blood heat with anger and retaliated. They got into the worst fight he ever had, but he came out victorious. He didn't saw it as a happy moment, because of those eyes, those green profound eyes that were drown in misery… they haunted him. He was determined to make the pain leave those eyes, he didn't wanted to see that sight again… that look, so hopelessly staring at nothing… he'd make it disappear.

As their life continued, he managed to make friends with this guy. He was funny and pretty. Naruto felt the need to pull him closer to his life fast. Time passed and they were great friends, even if he had wanted it to be something else.

When Sasuke confessed, he had been shocked. Before Gaara, he had a huge crush with the Uchiha but always felt like it was impossible because of their little game. He couldn't stay near him, he didn't want to have to answer him until he knew how Gaara felt about him, but never dared to ask. I mean, Gaara never let his mask slid, not even a little, it was impossible for Naruto to find out if he was interested or not. But his patience grew thin, and he just decided to let go, because at the time he just needed someone to love and to love him, and he couldn't wait any longer.

He smiled, sitting in his bed, as he saw his lover getting out of the bathroom, with nothing but a towel around his waist, drying his hair with another one. He would never regret it, because he had made the right choice. This guy showed him what love meant, made him feel it. He was thankful, no doubt, but still the promise he made to himself; that look… it never left those eyes.

He sighed, as Sasuke sat beside him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just that, ah…" he fall back, laying on the bed, unable to finish the sentence… the raven followed him grabbing his hand and caressing it slightly with his thumb.

"Don't worry so much about him, he knows you're there, if he needed help he'd come to you" He said, knowing very well what troubled his boyfriend.

"But he won't, even if he needs it, he's too stubborn. He won't admit it and I… I just can't act like nothing's wrong anymore!" said the blonde, fixing his eyes in the ceiling.

"Don't do something you'll regret later. He's strong, there's no need for all of you to keep treating him like his some five year old that doesn't know what he's doing. He has changed"

"No… he hasn't" said the blonde with a sad smile.

"He's not about to make the same mistakes as before, trust me, trust him" said the other, trying to somehow comfort his beloved.

"I try… I really do but… he's just…"

The raven pulled him over for a kiss, and then said in a low tender voice

"It's ok. It'll be ok. Don't worry about it"

Naruto just smiled again; inside those obsidian eyes he would always find comfort. He just wished for his friend to be as happy as he was.

Later that week…

"Oh, come on Gaara it'd be fun!" said the hyperactive blond to his friend, in the fashion he had been addressing him for the past 15 minutes now…

"No"

"COME ON!!!"

"…no"

"INO!!!!" that was one of the drastic measures. It had never got as far as to call Sakura to the mix.

"Come on Gaara!" said the girl, while clinging on a very pissed redhead. He cursed the day all of them got immune to his death glare.

"Leave me alone" he growled.

"Not until you say yes"

He cursed and mumbled something that could only mean he had agreed to what the two blondes were inquiring, then walked away leaving behind his pleased and happy friends.

He approached Sasuke, somehow he managed to be the sane one in the place… that just said a lot of his choice of friends.

Gaara glanced at the raven, an annoyed yet questioning look on his face.

"They're already forcing me to go too, so screw you"

The red head just rolled his eyes, the ones behind me making plans and giggling, the one in front of him looking at him with a smug smirk, looking at him…

"Since you missed the last meeting you will attend the next by yourself; the dobe and I have some issues to attend over the weekend" (translation: he has to molest Naruto all trough the weekend and can't be bothered by meaningless business arrangements)

The way he spoke was one to make clear that it wasn't a petition, it was a command; Gaara didn't like to be bossed around so he just stared at him, more like glared and took into consideration to have stayed with the nutcases back there or snap the neck of the nut in front of him.

"…Whatever" he finally said, looking away and motioning to the door.

"Yeah, not like you have an option really. But I expect you to be here and take care of it"

"Hn"

Gaara was already stepping out of the place, Naruto then yelled at him

"Gaara, don't be late tomorrow, k?!"

He walked out faster.

Author notes:

… This is weird… the chapter… I wanted to continue it, but I felt like it would've taken forever and I would never finish it. Sorry. I've been harassed by school work, random stuff, I'm behind on my Naruto manga reading and it doesn't help that I'm the laziest person I know.

Beta-ed by Darka-chan (thanks a bunch)