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I once again dash out of the classroom as the bell rings, wanting to get to the music room as quick as possible. On my way out the door, I hear Sasuke sigh and I can't help but chuckle. I continue dashing down the hallways, ignoring other kids telling me to slow down as I brush past them.

Pushing open the door to the music room I head right for the piano. Today I want to practice one of my favorite's; Moonlight Sonata. Gently lifting the lid off the piano keys I softly run my fingers across them, getting to know the feel of the new piano. Taking a few calm breath's letting myself become centered, as though I am one with the piano, I let my fingers start their smooth glide across the keys. Soon the beautiful, and almost haunting, melody fills the room.

I don't notice when I close my eyes, but I hear the soft click of the music room's door closing and I peak open one eye and see someone standing nearby in my peripheral vision.

It takes a lot of willpower to not freeze up and stop playing halfway through tapping a key down. I swiftly shut my eye once more, pretending I didn't just see him standing there, gazing at me. Letting the song wash over me once more, I nearly forget he's in the room. However, once I finish the song, with three minutes left of lunch, I open my eyes in time to see the door shut and Gaara gone. A sigh escapes my lips, looking back up when the door opens again. This time it's Sasuke walking in, looking highly confused.

"Naruto, did I really just see Gaara walk out of here?" His eyebrows are pressed together, trying to figure out what Gaara was doing in here. I simply nod my head yes, just as confused as he is. I grab my stuff and we leave the room, not bringing it back up for the rest of the day.

Gaara POV

I don't quite know why, but Naruto Uzumaki fascinates me. The first time I seen him, when I moved here, the blonde hair and bright blue eyes had caught me off guard. My first impression of him had been he's an idiot, loud, annoying, and way too bright for his own good and no one should have a laugh so musical like he does. But then I saw him one day, bending down near the seven eleven store.

He was feeding a homeless cat, with the softest expression on his face I have ever seen. I wasn't expecting to see something like that, and it changed my opinion of him. Next thing I know, I find myself watching him a little more closely after that. For some reason I think more than once that his eyes are trying to scream at everyone how lonely he really is. I don't understand that, though, with all the people he surrounds himself with.

How could he be lonely when he has so many friends? When he has people that actually love and care about him? I wouldn't know how that feels, but I am lonely. Not that anyone needs to know any of this. I am better off by myself, without friends. They would just get in the way and make things worse. Besides, they wouldn't really care about me. I am a monster, an abomination. I killed my mother and I deserve to live alone for the rest of my life.

The words my father had repeatedly beat into me, going so far as carve the kanji for love into my forehead when I was only five years old. That's not the point though. After watching Naruto for so long, I began to be able to see through his fake smiles, began to understand his fear of not being good enough his fear of failing, even his fear of being left. Why he feels all this, I do not know. I want to know, though. However, if I try to get close to him, he will not be happy and try to take Naruto away from me, or worse.

I am going off track. Naruto doesn't know I seen him with that cat, nor does he seem to know I watch him on a regular basis. Sometimes I think he also watches me, but when I look, he is no longer looking at me so then I think maybe it's just my imagination after all. He wouldn't be interested in someone like me of all people. The next time I see Naruto without his loud, laughing, mask on, is during lunch time.

This was before the old piano was broken, and I had decided to skip lunch and ended up going past the music room. He wasn't playing the piano at the time, instead drawing in one of his sketchbooks. The image of him sitting by the window, a small content smile gracing his lips. His eyes though, were so sad, and lost, I nearly walked in and drew him into my arms. The way the sun shone through the window made his hair almost glow, brightening his face in the process. The sight of him made me realize then, that I had fallen for the blonde, and that I wanted to know more about him, to know everything about him. To know why he was sad, why he was lonely, why he looked at that cat with so much compassion and understanding.

I wanted to know and understand so badly it ached. But I couldn't, because it would put him in danger.

Then I heard about the new piano and that he would be in the music room again, and I just couldn't help myself. I wanted to know what his playing sounded like, damn the consequences. I would protect him if it came to that. So I went to the music room, and he was in the middle of playing a rather haunting melody. I couldn't help but to think it sounded so much like him, sounded so similar to those emotions that he hides inside himself. I knew that he had seen me, but he hadn't said anything and he didn't stop playing. For that I am grateful, but I ended up leaving before either of us could speak, out of fear of saying the wrong thing.

I know that I should not return to the music room, but I also know that I most likely will if only to hear his music again.