Saturday had finally arrived, but was quickly gone for Gaara. What good is a weekend when he couldn't sit back and relax and do as he wished? He glared at his Blackberry's touch screen and frowned. This photo… At first the idea of proving Gai wrong and dishing Lee out seemed exciting, but now his situation seemed ridiculous.

The hospital's visiting hours ranged from 10:00am to 5:30pm, yet Gaara was staring at the digital numbers flashing on his alarm clock, 4:24pm. He really didn't want to go. After what he said to Lee, he'd be surprised if the volunteer staff let him pass through the front doors. Couldn't he just lie to Gai and say that he visited Lee? Possibly, but as of late, Gai has seen through every lie Gaara has said to him in the past two days. With that in mind, he preceded to get ready for the hospital.

Heat encased him entirely in the shower. He held his face under the spout of gushing water, letting it stream down his lean frame. Knitting his brows together, he concentrated on what to wear. What to wear? It wasn't like he was dressing up for some fancy date, it was just Lee. Gaara could care less what that nerd thought about his attire. But still, he should dress nice…

Whatever.

With the twist of the sliver knob, he eased out of the shower, steam rising off of him in waves. He glanced at the medicine cabinet, automatically, he gave the mirror a quick wipe to clear some fog away, just enough to see half of his reflection. He fished around for the tube of Crest Wintermint with one hand, and with the other, limply grasped his neon green tooth brush. Finding the tube secluded in the far corner of his bathroom drawer, he gripped it tight and popped the cap off with his thumb, glazed the bristles, and brushed his teeth with the blue paste. After a quick rinse, he dragged himself to his room while wrapping a towel around his waist.

If anyone else saw his room, they wouldn't believe he lived there. Neat, crisp, and smelled of spices. CD albums were compressed on the headboard of his queen sized bed. A guitar resided at its foot. A lamp with thin metal extensions, like branches to a tree, stemmed out in four ways with a light bulb and shade attached to each end, all different hues of earth tones. A reasonable sized desk, sleek and black with a matching stool was pressed under a huge window looking out at the street. His room had such an artsy feel to it, that his peers at school would drop their jaws at first glance. He was most proud of his walk in closet, the door painted a deep coffee brown. Upon entrance, to his right hung a few t-shirts, a black jean jacket, a pullover sweater, and a fitting coat. To his left, four pairs of jeans dangled. He yanked a pair of gray distressed ones with small rips off of its hanger, and a deep maroon shirt with cool faded black letters. He dropped them onto his comforter, dried the rest of his body off, and casually slipped them on. Exiting his room, he waltzed past his box television and scooped up his motorcycle keys by the chain with a swift finger. He twirled them in one simple circle before clasping them in a fist and marched out his apartment door, slamming it shut behind him. He didn't bother to lock it. Only a nut would think to rob his stuff.

The parking lot, a smear of black with faded yellow lines, some crooked, some straight, there were even ones with a half painted handicap man between them. The apartment complex was a total dump thanks to neglect and negative tourism. Gaara peered forward into the outdated lot, grinning slightly at his cool Harley, complete with a radiant glare from the sun. Slowly he motioned toward it, keeping his attention on the beat up gravel. Looking right at the speed demon was sure to cause blindness. He brought his leg over the seat in slow motion. His skilled fists gripped the handles at a snail's pace. Everything he did was extremely cautioned. If he could steal away time from the hour he planned to stay at Lee's bedside, he would. Perhaps seven, maybe ten minutes elapsed by the time he started the engine. The humming of the crimson beauty rattled his body, but the vibrations always leveled out into a smooth ride when he hit the gas. When he speeds, all of society around him blends into a blur of music. Peaceful music, the kind you'd find in a valley of Chinese elms and glittering pools of white spring water. The sound of time passing. The song of the wind… He couldn't say why he felt so serene when he drove his Harley, but that was every other day. Today however, the noise around him was nothing but meaningless gossip, truck horns and the ringing of passerby cell phones. Everything was what it was. Everything sounded the way it sounded. He was surrounded by annoyance, and yet he was on his way to the heart it all; Sunakagure's Memorial Hospital.

~o0o~

The automatic doors parted for Gaara, but he did not step forward. The glass closed in front of him, but quickly jutted to the sides when an old couple bypassed him and waltzed into the place like it was some lovely residence. As if the building was anything but a hospital. Gaara folded his arms across his chest and exhaled slowly. He wasn't nervous, he wasn't anxious, he wasn't anything. His reasoning for being there was completely based on blackmail and Gai's demands. That was it. No true strings attached. In graceful strides, Gaara advanced past the double doors and arrived at the information desk. He lifted a ballpoint pen attached to a clipboard of various names and times and added his own to the list. He glanced up at the nurse. Turns out there wasn't one, just a woman, no, girl, who was chewing Orbit, scribbling out notes on sticky paper in bubbly purple ink. Matsuri's Hospital Schedule:

Clock in

Open info desk

Patient rooms to memorize

Break at lunch…

She looked up from her paper and stared into Gaara's eyes. Slowly, a dusty pink began to cloud her cheeks. Gaara straightened up and placed the pen down quickly. Great. A volunteer who not only ignored him upon first entry, but now liked him? He decided to make this meeting a short one.

"Lee, room 213." He said flatly, letting his hands slip coolly into his deep pockets. Her blush now rivaled his hair color.

"Right…" she murmured, pointing down the hall, giving him directions. She was trying to act as though she was on top of her duties, but even so, Gaara gave a curt nod of the head to give a show of appreciation, but really intended to cut her off in the middle of her explanation. He ignored her sudden apology and trotted off toward Lee's room while her head was bowed down in traditional courtesy. That moment would have been a good waste of time, but he was already in a bad mood as it was. His Saturday had already been stolen from him. He didn't need a middle school girl staring at him like he was the next Bachelor to be on TV…

Left foot…right foot…left foot again…

The hall seemed to be thinning out behind him as his steps grew slower in their journey to room 213. The noise from his Vans echoed, they sounded so close, and loud… Lee's room was approaching a little too fast for his liking. It had taken him a total of 26 minutes to get to the hospital. He was sure to have manipulated his time card, but calculating the rest of the time he'd have to spend with Lee was still long. 34 minutes to sit by Lee, just sit. He wouldn't chat, or at least try not to. He found himself wishing, praying even, that he would find Lee asleep in his room. But of course, wishes never come true for those that don't wish on a star. And prayers aren't really answered, just listened to, but in the end, fate always wins.

Finally reaching the door, Gaara found himself in the same position he was in the last time he paid Lee a visit. Gaara was outside his door, listening to his own breathing, his hand gripping the knob, completely glued in place. For a moment he couldn't think, but after a few seconds he released the knob and brought cold fingers to his forehead. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just do this? Get this over with?

He crouched to his knees and held his head in his arms. He was drained…no sleep again yesterday. He rarely ever had dreams, but last night…a dream had stirred him out of his slumber with his eyes stretched out past their narrow perimeter, staring widely at his bedroom ceiling. He didn't drift back into sleep after that.

He remembered that nothing had surrounded him, just the color of His eyes. He was trapped with no place to run, no place to hide, nothing but shadows all around him. He was drowning in blackness, but a presence was there, even in the darkness, he could feel Him watching. Just staring him down. Confused and blank, His eyes stared, but they were asking questions.

Who are you?

Who was I?

Do you know?

The nightmare from yesterday, it still haunted Gaara. Even at this very moment, even in his wake...

That memory was all the convincing he needed to stop what he was doing. He stood up, dusted his jeans off and pivoted around.

He was going to ditch.

So what if the photos got out? Who cared anyway?

Gaara was halfway toward the information desk, a little annoyed by the thought of that girl being there. Right when he was turning the corner, a sweet voice called out to him, "Young man?" Gaara glared over his shoulder, pausing in the middle of his step. The spot Gaara had been standing at, an old woman stood. From the looks of it, the door to 214 was slightly cracked with her small form emerging through it. Was she a visitor?

She was tiny in stature, but she had a graceful air about her, so much so that Gaara scratched the back of his neck, somewhat ashamed for glaring at her. Gaara was mean, true enough, but he did have morals. He respected the elderly if anything, even smiled at babies from time to time. He couldn't just ignore her, so he stopped walking, faced her and awaited her question.

"Young man?" she repeated in the same tiny voice. She gave a quick wave and nod, signaling him to come closer. Gaara slowly stole a peak from behind him, making sure that there wasn't another "young man" she could be addressing. Apparently, it was clear she was speaking to him since no other life force was with them in the hallway. He strode carefully, trying to make a decent impression on this woman. He didn't want to appear as a delinquent outside of school too… He was a good foot away from her now. She was shorter than he expected. She only came up to his elbow. 4'8 possibly?

"Are you here to visit someone? A dear friend maybe?" Gaara didn't know why the elderly were so nosy. Did they feel privileged to be in everyone's business simply because their age qualified them? Whatever the reason, Gaara hesitated to answer.

"Not really." He offered. But the woman inquired further, "Oh? Then why would someone your age be here when you could be off doing other things with your Saturday?" She let a smile grace her thin lips, the knowing kind. Gaara didn't feel comfortable, but he didn't feel violated either. Have the elderly always had this kind of advantage in small talk?

"…"

He shrugged his shoulders. It's not like it was any of her business. Actually, it was nobody's business, but for some odd reason everyone wanted to pry. Gai, his annoying gym coach who cheered about "youth" and "strength" during morning exercises, wrote him a referral yesterday for skipping class. The man never cared all the other days, but now that Lee was thrown in the mix, anything he did was an automatic write up. And now some stranger, this old lady, wanted in on the blackmail? She might as well have asked the impossible.

"Oh child," She laughed, but kept that same ancient grin on her face, "People don't do what they don't want to. Even if they're being made to do it, they still find ways to turn on their heels and leave."

Gaara stared at her anxiously. Can the old read minds?

She brought her delicate hands together and intertwined her bony fingers, letting them drift silently down her long knitted skirt until they rested below her stomach.

"This is a hospital, no? These patients here," She stepped in front of Lee's room with one of her hands outstretched, as if she were trying to reach for the stars beyond the white walls, "They're stuck. If they had any say, why..." She gave Gaara a hopeful glance, "they would dream to be in your shoes, and walk right out of this place, free to spend their Saturday however they wished."

Gaara let his eyes drop to his shoes. The way she spoke in that suggestive tone, like he should do something with his time instead of the usual cigarette "fix-me-up". She wanted something from him… but what?

Her eyes seemed to twinkle, and her face became smooth, almost young…

"Before you go and spend your Saturday, maybe you could be someone else's Saturday, hm?" she gave a soft heart-felt laugh, all the while shaking her head pleasantly.

"Oh, but listen to me!" She gave another giggle, "I sound like some jabbering old fool…"

She gave a half glance behind her as a man slowly craned his way out of room 214. An old man in beige suspenders with a neat white sweater emerged quietly, but gracefully at her hip. The woman smiled at him lovingly, and he returned her gesture. They were the same couple that entered through the double doors when he first arrived…

She waved to Gaara as she and her husband strolled out of the hall, side-by-side as laughing music. Gaara gazed at the corner they disappeared around, feeling as though he understood why the elderly were so at peace with themselves.

A mousy, "Thank you for visiting Sunakagure!" echoed down the hallway, the voice was the volunteer girls. The dull bump of glass doors coming together finalized the couples leaving.

Gaara was left to accompany himself in the hallway once again. The silence around him seemed eerie, the whispers in the wind flew by his ears, and the air vents high above him howled… He rocked on his heels, not because he was nervous, just so he could busy himself while he waited. What he was waiting for, he didn't know. After his feet were done seesawing, he let them level out on the tile flooring. A pressure was settling on his body, making him go very still. Without moving his head, he slowly rolled his eyes into their corners, allowing them to sneak a sideways peek at the door beside him.

213.

Be someone else's Saturday.

He gave the face of his watch a wary look. It was 5:14pm. He could stay until closing. It wouldn't hurt anything just to say hello to Lee, but after that…

He was getting the hell out of here.

His mind was pulsing, and his palms were hot, but he was twisting the knob. Automatically, he leaned into the push of the door, as though he was just poking his head in to spy.

There He was. His back faced Gaara and his black curls were ruffled from sleep. His skin was a pale shade of apricot, but it was a great improvement from the gray hue he was the day before. Lee was staring blankly out his bedside window, but in all actuality, he was studying his own reflection. Lee noticed his intruder immediately, but his expression was not a shocked one, just dazed. Gaara stared back at Lee with an expression that was somewhat annoyed and sickened at the same time.

"You again…" Lee's voice wasn't even a whisper. It was almost holographic, like it could fade in and out of sounds. It had a hollow texture to it, as if the voice was hiding somewhere deep in another place. Another world.

Gaara didn't bother to take a seat in the flat cushion provided by Lee's bed. He stepped over toward him, almost in a glide, as if he were trying to chase away the awkward silence in the room. In a lazy half turn, Lee's face was finally toward Gaara's snarky one. The black eye he sported yesterday was no longer a swollen knot. It now appeared as a circular purple bruise, his eye was a squint of black, but at least he could see. Lee's neck looked as if it was some foreign object protruding out of his languid body. Lee always had a lanky figure to begin with, but this strange angular person now, was this Lee? Was it truly? He used to look so healthy jogging around the school campus, gracing students with quick hellos and comments, that it was sad gazing upon this body, unable to define who he once was. Gaara couldn't stop staring at Lee. This wasn't him. How could he have fallen so short of who he once was? It was like this Lee was someone else.

A complete stranger.

"Who are you?"

Gaara let his slender fingers caress his throat, had he really asked that? Lee maneuvered his eyes stealthily, shifting them from the window to Gaara's narrowed ocean ones. His shoulders were as limp as paper and his expression remained passive.

"Did I not ask you that same question yesterday?"

"I'm Gaara…" A soft pang pulsed in his chest, like a string being wound up tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. "I've always been Gaara."

It was weird having something so obvious roll off his tongue. But he vaguely wondered if Lee could ask himself that same question and come to a simple answer.

"My name is Rock…no, Lee. Rock is my last name, I think."Lee flipped his palm over and gave it a small glance before looking to Gaara and nodding his head, completely certain of his answer now.

"Lee Rock."

Gaara was seething inside. He clenched his fingers around Lee's bony wrist and forced it to twist, flopping Lee's hand over so that his palm was to the ceiling. Lee Rock was scrawled there across pale skin in sloppy blue ink. Gaara gazed into Lee's baffled eyes disbelievingly. Lee needed to remind himself who he was with some scribbled note?

Gaara let Lee's wrist slip out of his grasp, letting it flop onto the mattress weakly.

"Nothing…" Gaara let long slender fingers run through a tangle of red strands as he paced back a few steps.

"You know nothing." he exhaled, exasperated.

Lee frowned, massaging his wrist with his free hand. "And I suppose you know everything?"

"No." Gaara waltzed beside Lee, and closed in on his personal space. His hands were spread on either side of Lee's frame, but Lee did not feel threatened. He actually seemed anxious, expectant even.

"There's still one thing I don't know."

Lee stared at the redhead uneasily, but Gaara's eyes were intent on making him feel uncomfortable.

"There was a man who visited you yesterday. What did you say to him?"

Lee opened his mouth, and then shut it abruptly.

"That is none of your business."

"It has everything to do with me being here today."

Lee never once shifted his attention from Gaara's captive gaze. He thoughtfully glazed a finger on his chapped lips. An answer was brewing within him.

"What does it mean to be alive when there is nothing to live for? Even though I am sitting here breathing," he lifted a hand to the window and let it slide down, ink smearing the glass. "It is like I am dead at the same time…"

Lee Rock was now a squiggly sketch of blue running down the window like watered mascara.

Gaara bowed his head down with his fist clenched tightly into the fabric of Lee's comforter. This Lee…was more of a ghost than anything.

He was Lee's Saturday today, but he wanted to be Lee's Sunday..his Monday, his Tuesday, his Wednesday, his Thursday and his Friday. He wanted to be there. He wanted to know. He needed to know.

Who is Lee Rock?

But he's been staring directly at him all this time. This is Lee. This being has always been the real Lee. Gaara was just too conceited to notice until now. The Lee at school was a liar, but the Lee here was raw with truth. This was Lee's real persona.

Gaara wasn't all that interested in shattering him anymore. What's to break when there's nothing to work with? He'd have to build him up from scratch, but once he accomplishes that, he was going to make sure Lee remembered him. And not with some stupid note either.

"Excuse me? Sir?" Gaara casually backed out of Lee's bubble of privacy and slid his hands into his jean pockets.

"I'm afraid you have to leave, visiting hours have been over for nearly twelve minutes now…"

Gaara nodded at the nurse in Lee's doorway. She was the one from yesterday…

Gaara came to a halt in the doorway and stole a peek over his shoulder at Lee. But the boy was back to staring his reflection down with an abandoned look in his eyes.

"I'll be here tomorrow."Gaara called behind him, but got no reply from Lee.

On that note, he was gone, down the hall, signing out. Leaving. Next time he'd arrive at the earliest time offered, 10:00am sharp. He was hungry for more answers, and Lee had all of them. But first he'd need to find the questions to ask. First Question:

What's wrong with you?

He'd have his answer tomorrow.