Disclaimer- Hehehehe. Of course I don't own Naruto silly. I would put more monkeys in it if I did. :P Monkeys are my idol. … As well as tacos. Who could forget the tacos?! If there were no tacos I would curl up in a ball and die. That's how much I love them. :P
The Closure
Gaara left the office as the lunch bell rang. His eyes drooped slightly out of boredom from Tsunade's speech. They didn't want to suspend him because they were afraid of what he might do to himself if they weren't there to watch his every move.
He kept his eyes on the ground as students shuffled by him, all eager to fill their grumbling stomachs. He was almost at the door to his freedom when he ran into a gang of giggling girls. Giggling girls and Sasuke. The one who hated him most.
"Oh look who just showed up. Hey EmoBoy! Another trip to the office? Are you going to go off and slit your wrists now?" Sasuke insulted coldly. Gaara didn't answer which really pissed him off. He reached out as Gaara passed and grabbed his throat roughly, pressing him hard against the wall.
"You aren't allowed to just ignore people when they talk to you. Answer me twerp. Are you going to go off and slit your wrists now?" Sasuke repeated even more cruelly, tightening his grip.
"Tell me why I should have to answer a piece of shit like you." Gaara hissed to an angry Sasuke, brushing of the raven haired boy's hand. Sasuke drew back his arm and struck Gaara in between his shoulder blades. He gasped in pain and fell to the ground, forcing air into his panicked lungs.
"Good one, Sasuke-kun!" Sakura screeched loudly above the cry of the others laughing. Gaara tried in vain to regain his breath. He could not have been hurt bad enough not to move, but the crowd left him there to gasp for pained breaths.
Footsteps came up behind him and he closed his eyes, readying himself for a kick to the stomach. But it never came. Instead a piece of paper floated down on top of his hand then more footsteps. He lifted his head just in time to see a whisk of a cream-coloured jacket whisk around the corner.
His attention turned to the paper that was lying in his hand. He picked it up, falling back into a sitting position. His eyes swivelled back and forth as he read it.
His heart jumped as he finished it. He knew who wrote it even though they didn't sign it. He knew the writing; had studied it; had let it slip into every layer of his consciousness. Some of the pain in his heart would be gone after he talked, after he let her be consumed by his mind.
Dear Gaara-sama;
I want you to know not everyone hates you. I really want to talk with you. If you could please meet me at the doors on the west side of the C building at 3:45 pm. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you as I gave you this. Believe me I wanted to. But I'm too cowardly to do that right now. Anyway, please come. See you then.