Sasuke POV

Itachi didn't let me go out with them last Friday for their traditional, and what would have been my first, movie night. Even after I called Naruto and asked him to explain to Itachi and I, on speakerphone, why I had been wearing an 'Uke' shirt. Apparently Gaara had given it to him for his birthday last year, as a joke, and he'd refused to wear a top that said 'Uke' and chucked it in his locker. Naruto supposed he'd gotten it mixed up with his plain black shirt which he swore was still in his locker somewhere. Unfortunatly, even after a very apologetic speech from Naruto, Itachi told me he didn't think much of people who joked about things like that and forbid me from going to the cinema. I can't help but feel extremely glad Naruto had the sense to keep it to himself that the shirt was probably true. I think even Naruto picked up on the fact that Itachi wouldn't approve of me having gay friends.

On Monday at school I returned Naruto's t-shirt and didn't hold back the urge to give him a good punch. But today I won't be seeing him, because it's Tuesday and my art class is going on a school trip. The East Konoha Art Museum is having a special offer day and even though it means going across the river our art teacher said we should take full advantage of it. If he hadn't made it compulsory I wouldn't be going; I don't fancy the idea of going anywhere near my last school. But the museum is really near the bridge, whereas the school is uptown quite a way so I'm hoping I won't run into anyone.

An image of Sai swims into my head and I shiver; I especially don't want to run into him! Sai was probably the one exception to the unofficial anti-gay rule at East Konoha High and he was always avoided because of it. He was a year older than me and always the star student, but no one associated with him unless it was strictly business. People suspected he was gay, but after he cornered me in the library I was sure of it. Itachi was furious when he found out what had happened and moved us straight away. We didn't tell anyone else though so I suspect Sai's standing is much the same as it was when we left. I remember how he always used to send me strange looks, how his dark eyes were enticing yet creepy. He had such pale skin too and dark hair that hung in his eyes. He was attractive, yes, but not in a way that I liked. I, however, seemed to be exactly what he liked. I can't recall his words exactly, I was too stunned at the time, but I remember him talking about my eyes.

I close said eyes and rest my head against the cool window as rain runs down it outside. I don't want to think about him now, or ever. The bus engine rumbles into action and I remove my head from the window as it begins to vibrate. I'm sitting alone on the bus the school rented to take us to the other side of the city. Gaara is sat in the seat in front of me; I can see his bright red hair. He's the only other person I really know who's in my art class, but it's obvious the boy doesn't like me and I'm not going to force my company on anyone.

Gaara POV

I rub absentmindedly at my arm-warmer covered scars, they itch. I can feel Sasuke's gaze on me but resist the urge to turn and glare at him. The only reason I haven't beaten the shit out of him is that Naruto obviously likes him, something that depresses me no end. I've loved Naruto for years but resigned myself to settling with his friendship a long time ago. I can tell he doesn't see me that way and I'm not going to ruin what I have by saying something stupid… 'Like I love you' a singsong voice, in my head, finishes. I hit my head hard on the window; I hate that song even more than I hate Sasuke! I'll admit that my hatred of Sasuke can be largely contributed to jealously, but I don't care! I hate him! I hate his perfect looks! I hate his height! I hate him for being so clever! But most of all, I hate him for gaining Naruto's attention!

I've been in love with the blond boy for years, all those years we laughed together, told each other everything, slept over at each others houses and I treasured every moment. I remember when I was down he would always cheer me up, how he'd call me if there was a storm because he was scared, and when he slept at mine I'd sometimes find him cuddling up to me because my room gave him nightmares. My stomach flutters at the thought of how I'd lie awake, because that's all I ever do, and watch him sleep, sometimes his rhythmic breathing even allowed me to sleep.

But that doesn't matter now. If I keep thinking about him I'll never be able to get over him, and I need to do just that. It started with friendship and became unrequited love, now I just have to take it back to friendship. I really wonder if that's possible, but I have to at least try. I figure I'll start by looking at other guys; maybe if I find someone else I can let go of this stupid obsession with Naruto. Actually I take that back; it's not stupid, it's perfectly understandable. I mean who wouldn't love Naruto? He's just so… well lovable! So cute, so friendly, so gorgeous- arg! This is not helping me get over him!

I look out the window in a vain attempt to distract myself from Naruto. Clothes are showering from an upstairs window, a guy just kicked the post box, an old lady is walking her toilet-brush-like dog and a filthy looking bum is begging change from passers by. Yep; this is the district where I live! And no; there are now good-looking guys!

The journey to the museum seems to take forever and when we finally escape the confines of the bus I have to shake some life back into my legs. The white marble exterior of the East Konoha Art Museum looms over our group. Our teacher tells us that we may look around as we please, as long as we come back to the meeting point at that time and don't do this and be respectful to this, that and the other. Thankfully she doesn't make us pair up; it seems that at sixteen we are finally old enough to walk around a building without holding someone's hand.

I wander through almost empty halls enjoying the echoing sound of my foot steps on the hard stone floors. I glance at the sculptures on their stands and the paintings that line the walls, finally stopping at one depicting a forest. It's not one of the many mindless woodland scenes where you can easily picture the deer from Bambi stumbling into the frame. The trees are twisted, bent back on themselves, their branches reaching in supplication. The longer I allow my eyes to travel across the scene the more is revealed, the trees have tortured faces and they appear to cry out for their lost wood.

"Captivating, isn't it?"

"Yes…" I say softly not turning to address the owner of the deep, unfamiliar voice.

"It's called 'Blight.' I imagine the artist wished to convey a message."

"Pollution?"

"Why, yes. I do believe that was his desired purpose."

"How do you know though?" I glance at the card beneath the painting, I reads: 'The Blight, Anonymous' "I doesn't say who did it."

"I know, I asked them to keep my name anonymous."

I turn in surprise to find a pale boy standing behind me. He smiles brightly, but his dark eyes reflect none of the emotion. "You're the artist?"

"Yes." He says, watching me with empty eyes.

I'm not sure what to say so I say nothing. After a long pause the dark-haired boy speaks again, "Your eyes show me much. I would love to draw you sometime. Call me." He hands me a card before walking away.

I stare after him, strangely captured by the taller boy. When he rounds the corner I look down at the card in my hand. It has only a mobile number and a single name: Sai.

When I get home Temari shouts the usual, "Hey Gaara! Good day?" and as usual I ignore her. I go straight to my room, throwing my school bag down, before flopping on the bed. I pull my headphones over my ears and let the heavy metal blaring from them, wash over me. This is my everyday ritual, I'll come home and listen to my music, until Temari forces me to eat, then I'll listen a little more, maybe later, when I should be sleeping, I'll do some drawing.

I can feel something in my back pocket and pull it out. It's Sai's card. I turn it over slowly between my fingers before pushing my headphones off. I get up from my bed and move slowly to sit in the window-seat, all the while staring at the card.

Resting my arm against the window I watch a flash of lightening illuminate the card. The rain has turned into a full-blown thunderstorm now and, as I rarely switch my bedroom light on, the room is quite dark. The rain is pounding hard on the roof, and as me and Temari live on the top floor, it's really loud up here. Rivulets of water run down the glass as I rest against the window, allowing its touch to cool my skin. I can just make out the darkened street below, dark figures running for shelter, and rivers sweeping up trash to wash it down the road.

An image of a tall dark haired boy swims before my eyes. He couldn't have been much older than me, yet he did that painting. 'The Blight', he called it. It was magnificent; detailed yet strangely abstract. It was the kind of piece I could look at forever, rather like him actually.

I feel a small smile grace my features; he said 'Call me', if I'm not very much mistaken, that was an invitation.

"What's wrong Gaara? I usually have to yank your earphones away from you to tell you tea's ready."

I turn my head slowly to find my older sister leaning against the door frame. I didn't even hear her over the storm. She walks slowly over to me, her hips swinging, and ruffles my hair. I scowl and quickly try to push Sai's card up my arm-warmer. But not quickly enough, Temari grabs the card and holds it high as I try to snatch it back.

"Ooooh! Who's Sai?" she says in an annoying sing-song voice, using her height to prevent me taking that damn card back. "Is he fit? You going to call him? You should you know; you need a boyfriends, badly. Then you could stop mopping around with your music and a knife."

"Give it back now Temari." I say in my most deadly voice.

I see a flicker of fear in her eyes before she throws it back at me looking pleased with herself. "I don't want it anyway." I'm about to walk past her to find out what rubbish we're eating tonight when she continues. "Wonder what Naruto would think about this…"

I turn around, pocket-knife now in hand. "Why would he care?"

"Touched a nerve, have I?" She still has that smug look on her face, but I can see her eyes darting to my knife; she's scared. "Look Gaara," she says, her tone changing, "I really think you should call this guy. And for god's sake put that thing away!" I slowly fold away my knife and tuck it in my pocket; I wouldn't knife my sister anyway, unless she really pissed me off. "You need to either make a move on Naruto, or let the guy go. Personally I think you should let it go; if he doesn't like you by now he never will. And maybe this Sai guy will help you get over him!"

I frown and turn to fetch my dinner. I don't bother asking how she knew Sai was anything more than an acquaintance; I figure she was probably watching me for a while before making her presence known.

I'll call him. Not because Temari wants me to, but because I want me to.