As per the Shidaime's request, I walked over to Sunagakure's elementary school. The civilian children and the shinobi-in-training all attended here together. How would I know? Well, knuckleheads, I was a kid once too. I had to go to kindergarten like everyone else, no matter how much I didn't want to. I had a few friends that were in the ninja world now, but for the most part I ran with the other civilians. "The normal people", my mother called us. Like ninja were freaks or something? My mother was full of stupid prejudices like that, so I'd basically just learned to ignore it when she said anything about people who were different than we were.
I stood out on the steps with some of the other parents or siblings. I just looked at the picture of the little redhead I'd been given, waiting for the bell to ring so I could go pick up "my" kid. He was kind of cute, I'd admit it; but I'd never worked with children before. What if I just failed epically? I'd be begging my mom for a place to stay, that's what.
After what seemed like an eternity to me (I have a short attention span to match my height, okay?), the bell went off. Moms, dads, big brothers, and older sisters began filing into the school. I followed at the tail end of the crowd, hands in my pockets and trying to look like I knew what I was doing when I really had no clue.
Once I got inside, it was easy to spot my new charge. His fire-engine-red hair was hard to miss. He was sitting over in the library section of the classroom, reading a picture book (or attempting to read a real book, but hell if I knew which). What surprised me were the dark rings around his eyes; did he not sleep at all or something? He had this sour expression on his face, a little pout, like he'd had the worst day of his life.
I walked over and knelt down beside him. "Hey Gaara," I greeted, lightly shaking his shoulder. "Time to head home."
He looked up at me, then looked right back down. "I'm not s'posed to talk to strangers."
I sighed. So he was going to be one of those kids. "Well then, let me introduce myself. My name's Kame Chi, and I'm your new nanny."
Calmly he turned another page. "You're too young to be a nanny."
"I'm your babysitter, then."
"Babysitters are mean."
Frustrated, I grabbed the book out of his hands and placed it on a shelf. I took his hand and pulled him up. "Call me whatever you want, Gaara, but it's my job to look after you now."
"Can I call you creepy?" Though I didn't welcome that comment, I was a little happy; I thought he'd fight and scream, but he just started walking with me. Progress, I supposed.
"I'd prefer it if you didn't," I answered cheerfully, guiding him out of the school once he'd gotten his bookbag from the coatroom. "Now, I didn't have time to get directions to where your house is, so you're going to have to show me the way, is that okay with you?"
"Okay." He took the lead, dragging my hand behind in his like a ragdoll. "I wanna show you all my toys when we get home, okay?"
"That's fine."
"And will you play Anbu and Missing-nin with me?"
"Um, maybe..."
"And I want dango for dinner!"
"I don't know what I'm going to make for dinner! For God's sake, please don't ask so many questions." I groaned, already feeling a headache forming in the back of my brain. This kid was going to be a handful, I could tell.
He pouted beside me. "Sorry... but can we have dango for dinner? Without the syrup though?"
"I don't know, maybe." I took a deep breath in, gently easing my wrist from Gaara's grip and walking alongside him. He knew the way, so he didn't have to drag me. He needed to get it through his head that I wasn't going to just walk off. This was pretty easy so far, as long as I could keep his questions either at bay or satisfied. What else did you talk to kids about? "So... what did you do at school today?"
"We drew."
"What did you draw?"
"I have it in here."
"In your bookbag?"
"Yeah. I'll show you when we get home 'cause it's on my back right now."
"Okay." As we walked I found myself sort of swinging my arm, and he seemed to like that, because he swung his arm right back with me.
"So is this just what you do?" he asked, blinking up at me. "You babysit kids for your job?"
"Well, I used to work at another place. But I quit."
"Why did you quit?"
"Because the uniform they made me wear was ugly and I was sick of it," I answered cheerfully, reaching down with my other hand to tousle his hair.
"Oh. Was it a really ugly color? Was it, like, brown or something?"
"Nah, it was white and pink. But it had a lot of lace and ruffles and it was just too fruity and girly for me."
"Oh. So are you gonna babysit me for the rest of your life?"
"Hell no. By the time you're twelve you won't need a babysitter. Besides, I dunno if I'm gonna still be here when you're seven. You might have a different babysitter. I just need a job, and if I find a better one I have to leave."
"But..." His hand tightened in mine, and he pulled my hand/arm over closer to him. "You can't leave, Kame-chan!"
"How come?"
Instantly that question seemed to put him back in a bad mood. "Just 'cause. Whatever, leave if you want. I don't care. I don't like you anyway."
I rolled my eyes. Bipolar much? Well, that was kids anyway, I knew. One minute they could love you, and the second you did something they didn't like they hated you. I shrugged. "Maybe I will. I can't guarantee that I'm going to like this any more than your previous babysitters."
He glared up at me. "You use big words."
"Hey, compared to the average person... yeah, I'm pretty much average. Maybe a little above, I dunno. How 'bout you? Ya know how smart you are, hon?"
He crossed his arms, letting go of my hand. "Dunno."
I sighed. Maybe this would be a little harder than I'd thought. "Sooo... did you play with your friends today, Gaara?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"'Cause."
Great. So the kid was just going to give me monosyllabic answers whenever I asked him a question now. That was charming. "Hmm. So then... read any good books or anything, Gaara?"
"No."
I pointed at a random building, hoping to get a laugh out of him. "Is this our house?"
"Yep." Well, that obviously backfired.
I tell you, I could have smacked myself. With a shovel.
He strode into the house and let his bookbag fall to the floor. He then positioned himself on the carpet, clicked the TV on, and began to watch some anime or something.
I walked over to him, grabbed him under the arms, and dragged him backward. "Don't sit so close. You're going to ruin your eyes. You don't wanna be going to the eye doctor, do you? That places scares me so I sure as hell won't be the one taking you if your eyes end up hurting."
He glared at me, then scooted himself back up toward the TV, practically pressing his face against the screen.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. This definitely was NOT going to be an easy job. "Gaara, please move away from the TV. I don't want you needing to get glasses. For one thing, I'd probably get blamed for it. For another..." I let myself giggle. "You really wouldn't look good in glasses, hon."
He glared at me once again, but this time he actually did move away. "Go make dinner."
"Gaara, it's three o'clock. I'm not making dinner at three o'clock."
"You're mean."
"And you're spoiled. I might make you a snack if you ask real nice."
He just scoffed and turned back to his show. "Never mind."
I rolled my eyes and headed to the kitchen anyway, to rearrange things. If the only other person who lived here was Gaara's uncle, things would most likely be a mess.
Before I even got to the kitchen, I remembered something. Gaara hadn't shown me what he'd drawn at school. I turned and headed back into the living room. "Gaara! Will you show me what you drew today?"
He looked back at me, glared for a second, then looked back at the TV. "It's in my backpack."
"Okay." I picked up his backpack and unzipped the back part. Inside I found several papers. A few of them were worksheets, with perfectly formed letters, both printed and in cursive. Though, I can't say the cursive was totally perfect, but it was better than I would've done at his age. The other papers were... a newsletter and... ah! The drawings.
One was a bunch of flowers and grass and a big sun in the upper corner. Nice and average-looking for a six-year-old. The other drawing was a little stick figure with bright red hair, crying; it looked like him. I honestly couldn't say that wasn't disturbing - and that's coming from me. I was the girl who, when I was six, bit the heads off other kids' dolls as revenge for them being mean to me, calling me fat or ugly, or saying I was a booger. No, I didn't tell the teacher; I just destroyed their toys. And this drawing bothered me; that was not a good thing.
Worse, there was an arrow pointing to the stick figure. At the end of the arrow was written "Me".
I didn't make any comment about that one. I just slid it back into his bookbag. "Oh Gaara! This picture of these flowers is just so beautiful. I love it. I'm going to put it up on the fridge."
"How come?" he asked, as I began walking back to the kitchen.
"Because! If it's on the fridge, then everyone will get to see how pretty it is."
"You think it's that good?"
"Of course. Who told you it wasn't?"
"Nobody. I just don't think it's that good."
"Well, I do. So it's going up on the fridge. End of discussion, babe, let your artwork shine!"
I heard him kind of growl/sigh at me, but he didn't make any further comments.
I was right; the kitchen was an absolute disaster. It was so clear that no girls lived here, and the mess in the sink made me cringe - and gag. Did I mention how cringing and gagging at the same time is hard and not at all fun?
I was in the middle of trying to rearrange the cabinets. There was cereal on a shelf that was marked "MEASURING CUPS" and there was an empty Tupperware thing where "SNACKS" were supposed to go. I had tied my hair back, even though that style looked unattractive on me, so that my long locks weren't constantly in my face while I was trying to work. I had also grabbed a chair to stand on - because, as I've stated several more times, I'm a shortie. Coupled with my weight, I didn't want to lose my balance trying to jump and reach things or stand on my tiptoes - hey, graceful I'm not.
So I was standing on a chair, organizing what was really the snack cabinet. I'd taken my shoes off, since the floor of this house was cooler than walking around in sandals, even if they were open-toed. I'd nearly forgotten the feeling of cold ground under my feet, living in the blazing desert, but now I felt it and let me tell you: one of the best feelings ever. Next time it's hot out and your feet are sweating, take off your socks and shoes, put your feet on a piece of stone that's never seen the sun, and you'll get what I mean. Or just stick your tootsies on the wall of a freezer. Either way pretty much gets my point across.
This was what I was doing when Gaara came into the kitchen. I stood on the chair, arranging the snacks in the best categories I could come up with. I planned on doing the fridge and freezer next, just so I could have an excuse to stick my head into some cold air.
"Kame-chan!"
"Holy shit!" I kid you not; I fell right off that chair. I lost what little balance I possessed, and knocked the chair over. The box of granola bars I'd been about to place next to the fruit roll-up things flew out of my hand, heading God-knows-where. I managed to somewhat catch myself, but I still hit my head off the cabinet that was under the counter. As if that wasn't enough head trauma for the day, one of the damn granola bars had fallen out of the box and whacked me smack on the top of my skull; the rest of them were littered on the floor around us.
Rubbing my head, I looked up at Gaara. "Okay. Before I yell at you, would you please come behind here, look at my injured noodle, and tell me if there's any blood? You know, so I know whether we're making a trip to the emergency room or not."
Looking very, very sorry, he hurried behind me. I could feel his little hand on my head, separating my hair so he could look. "Um... I don't see any. It's supposed to be red, right?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Okay. All I see is brown."
"And that of course is my hair." I stood up, feeling my back make a noise that probably meant I'd be in pain tomorrow, and blew some of my bangs out of my face. "Okay, now... what the hell is it? I was busy with..." I looked up at the half-straightened-up cabinet, and pointed at it. "That situation."
He ran over to the stove and jumped up to look. "Dinner's not ready!"
"Um, yeah. I haven't started it yet."
"Well, what have you been doing?"
"Fixing this place so I know where everything is!" I righted the chair I'd knocked over and took down the garishly yellow box of cereal. From the next shelf over I got down a bowl and set it on the table. "It's fine, it can be a breakfast-for-dinner night. Let's have some Cheerios."
"No!" Gaara smacked the bowl to the ground, and I was thankful that it was a plastic bowl because otherwise I was sure I'd be paying for it. Just when I thought we'd been getting along, he kicked it up a notch... "I said I wanted dango! I told you that earlier and you said that was fine!"
"I said 'maybe', Gaara! 'Maybe' doesn't mean 'yes'! Didn't your mother ever teach you that?"
"Don't talk about my mommy!" He grabbed the box of cereal from me and threw it on the floor too, and I was glad it wasn't open. "Just make dinner!"
"I said we're having Cheerios!" I knelt down to his height (which wasn't really a long way for me) and stared right into his eyes. "Now pick up the bowl and the cereal so I can fix it for you."
"Cheerios isn't dinner. It's breakfast. Make me dinner."
"And stop telling me what to do. I'm not your slave, Gaara, and I'm not your maid either. I chose to do this and take care of you, and I can just as soon choose to quit if you keep bossing me around and pissing me off!"
He looked right back at me for a minute. In his sky blue eyes, I saw a few things. There was an intense dislike, for one. For another, there was frustration... sorrow. And then there was something I couldn't identify. A need or want for love or something... maybe?
He did this for about five seconds, then he let out a screech, shoved me back so I fell, and ran out of the room wailing, into what I had earlier discovered as the bathroom.
I quickly stood up and went after him to drag his ass back here and eat his breakfast for dinner. I got halfway there when I heard a click from the door.
Fuck. The kid I was supposed to be babysitting had just locked himself in the bathroom.
This night was just going peachy.
OKAY. Sorry for the long wait, but look! *points* Extra long chapter to make up for it! :D Next one might be a little short thought, since I've got it planned out and they don't say much. But there will be more like introspection and feelings, and possibly from Gaara... hey! Idea! Maybe it won't be as short as I thought it'd be.
Hope you liked! If you read, please review because those are SUPER AWESOMELY APPRECIATED! ^^
