I've been drawing way too much. Castle Crashers is a nerdy little game. And Lie to Me reminds me strikingly of House. That is all.

"Why does everyone always have to go to hell with you?"

With twitching eyes and nostrils flared in frustration I posed this question. Sunshine blinked at me, as if confused as to why I would ask such a thing. Slowly, his lips turned upwards into one of his infamous crooked grins I so loathed. He replied in a flat, albeit amused tone,

"Because I prefer them there."

Despite myself, I sank back into my chair, a low growl bubbling up in my throat as I pursed my lips firmly.

"What about me? You want me in hell, too?"

"Of course. Why do you think I'm here?"

Rolling my eyes, he softly laughed a low, deep, gravelly laugh.

I had been ecstatic to have another chance at being Gaara's psychiatrist. I called Lee that evening the moment I left work and asked him to drop off the bundle of joy ASAP the next morning. For once, I was wide awake and raring to go the moment I heard my doorbell ring. I barely acknowledged Lee as I happily drank in blue-green eyes rimmed with black, ailments of his insomnia. Ate up porcelain pale skin that only seemed even paler in light of the black clothing he always wore. I even admired, in a disturbing way, the obviously self-inflicted kanji tattoo of love on his forehead. Even the scowl that never left his paper thin lips, except when he was mocking me, was welcome in the wake of my excited smile. The moment that Lee left, however, my plan seemed so much better in my head.

"Gaara, it's good to—"

"Go to hell."

And there it was. His twisted smile, reserved just for me as he watched my own excitement quickly fade and die from my face.

If Gaara had ever been concerned about never seeing me again, I never would have known had it not been for his elder brother ratting him out.

"Sadist," I spat venomously, my plan having been thwarted by his rudeness.

He made no attempt to shoot a response to me. He knew he needn't do so. His lingering, antagonistic smile was more than enough. Out of sheer spite, I spoke my next words with venomous satisfaction, knowing well that they would strike home.

"We have a visitor dropping by today. He will be here at two. Supposedly."

Gaara's grin flickered as he registered my sentence, before vanishing completely. His eyes narrowed into slits at the mention of an intruder. I smothered the urge to smile maliciously.

"More?" Was his disgruntled reply.

I allowed a nervous laugh to surface, knowing full well what he had meant. First, it was Lee. Then came Kakashi. His siblings had crashed our party a few times as well. Tsunade had been the fifth to intervene. Gaara wanted it to be merely him and me. Alone. Just like Kakashi had warned me. Yet somehow, I just wasn't flattered.

"Yeah. Another one. But he's just kind of a guest speaker. According to Kakashi, this guy has had a rough childhood, but he came out of it alright. He had to have, if he was bold enough to have caught Kakashi's eye, which is in itself no small feat. My boss thought it would be a good idea to have the guy come and talk to you, so… that's what's going down today."

His eyes narrowed into slits, and if looks could kill, six feet under would be far too shallow.

"Kakashi's idea," I immediately felt compelled to remind him, in case he had begun to form any thoughts that the idea had been my own.

Heaving a sigh, I began an inner debate. Was bringing this topic up really worth wiping the smug grin from his face? I wasn't entirely sure. I really didn't want to have to deal with Rambo today.

"He won't be here long, Gaara."

Then again, if I hadn't notified him of this Naruto kid's appearance, how would he have handled it then? More than likely, he would have just sat there on the couch, sulking, taking turns glaring at us alternatively. Which was exactly what he was doing now. Sulking and glaring.

Through his frown, he managed to spit out, "Tell them to—"

"To what, Gaara? Go to hell?"

His scowl seemed to set in even further into his skull, his lip curling back over his teeth habitually as it had a tendency of doing.

"Look. I'm not excited about it either. Like I said, it was Kakashi's idea, not mine. Personally, I think that too many cooks spoil the broth. But it wasn't my call. One day, if you ever find your sanity, you'll understand what it means to have to yield to the will of another, who has a collar around your neck and ready whip in the other hand. In the meantime, I'm not going to try and console you over the job my boss has tasked me with."

I dropped my gaze to the digital clock on the stereo, still blinking twelve a.m. Putting off the task that it needed to be set eventually, I turned my attention to a clock that was honest about the time.

A quarter until one.

So I still had an hour and fifteen minutes to kill. Or, rather, an hour and fifteen minutes to stave Gaara off from trying to kill me. And that was only assuming that Naruto was on time.

As appealing as sitting and staring blankly at the wall was, I instead mulled over how to approach a potentially fatal issue.

"So how did you like Tsunade?"

At the mention of Lady Turbotits, I had roused several simultaneous reactions from Gaara. His corners of his lips twitched in a fleeting display of contempt, his hands balling themselves into fists, the muscles of his shoulders and arms tensing. I suppressed a fit of giggles bubbling in the back of my throat at the vein I'd struck.

"Pleasant girl?"

"Miserable," He retorted angrily, baring his teeth in malice at me for the umpteenth time.

"What makes you say that?"

As I anticipated, he didn't answer me. Only glared.

"It's because she took you away from me," I answered confidently.

He recoiled instantly. A shudder ran down his spine, and he inhaled sharply as anger washed over his face.

"You're nothing to me."

"I'm a source of entertainment for you."

Sunshine's expression softened slightly, the ghost of a smile flickering across his lips. His lack of a protest confirmed any suspicion Kakashi or I had.

"Easily replaced," was the obvious explanation he placed on the table.

"That's probably right," I responded honestly, unsurprised by his reply. "But it's an inconvenience to have to find another toy. That's why you fought Tsunade's decision. I heard about how you even went as far as to call Kankuro out to lunch, just so that you could tell him to relay the message to your father. Secondly, since you're such a liability to his renowned reputation, daddy has no option but to oblige to your whim. I'd be willing to bet that he, like your siblings, shit bricks when he heard that you were out of the nuthouse. They worked hard to get you in there and out of the way so that he could run his country without his maniacal son causing a field day for the press. It took me a while to figure out why your siblings weren't happy with me taking you out of there and trying to help you solve your issues, but I finally figured it out."

I chuckled to myself, slapping my hands on my knees as I spoke.

"You hate everybody and their mother. You wanted to be isolated someplace where no one would bother you, even if it meant being labeled criminally insane. And your family wanted you out of the public eye, so that they could live successful lives without the press choke-slamming them at every turn. Although I'm not big into politics, I imagine your father had to play hell to get into the seat of power he's in now with a son like you on the loose. So you see… even if you wanted to get rid of me, your father wants me to stay right where I am. Because with you here, I'm distracting you. Keeping you out of his hair. If he pulled so many strings to get you incorrectly labeled as insane, then just imagine what he'd do to keep you here, when he can get away with this method legally."

Gaara set his jaw forward, and I watched warily as his muscles tensed. I expected him to retaliate violently. To yell or scream at me, swearing that I was wrong in my detective sleuthing. Instead, he sat down on the floor in front of me, peering at me through his scraggly bangs. After a drawn out silence on his part, he revealed,

"I don't understand."

"What isn't to understand?" I blurted out, stabbing the air with both of my index fingers, as if it might help me further establish my point. "Was my rant of a monologue not specific enough for you?"

"You've put so much thought into trying to pick apart my family. Why?"

"Because… you're my patient. It's my job to help you."

"Help…"

He spoke the word carefully, as if unsure of its pronunciation.

"Yes, help!" I enunciated slowly, loudly, becoming increasingly more frustrated with his sudden inexplicable innocence. "What the hell do you think I've been trying to do all this time? Play hacky sack with my sanity?"

"If I'm that much trouble to you, then why continue this façade, when you know it's just a game to me?"

"Your well-being might mean playtime to you, but it isn't a game to me! You have some serious problems, but it's nothing I can't help you with, if you'd just cooperate with me! You don't understand that I've dealt with people who have come from roots similar to yours. They never had a nurturing mother, their father could care less, and they were raging alcoholics whom had social problems thanks to their upbringing. The only difference between them and you is that they let me help them!"

"I'm beyond help," He mused aloud morosely.

"That's bull Gaara," I replied firmly.

His glared pierced the brief veil of calmness between us, his lips forming an all-too familiar sneer.

"You know nothing about me. How could you?"

"You're only as beyond my reach as you continue to allow yourself to be. You think your situation is helplessly different, and yes, maybe there are some aspects of your life that are unique. But as long as you keep building this indestructible wall between yourself and the world, you're never going to know what it's like to have those types of memorable relationships."

"It's people that tore me down to what I am. What the hell would I ever want to do with them?" He spat angrily.

I could feel my lips part slightly in a moment of shock.

"Finally… Now we're getting somewhere."

My point-blank tactics hadn't worked up until now, so if I kept beating around the bush then perhaps, just maybe, a breakthrough was finally within my grasp.

"It's my job to help people. I went through eight years of college for moments like these. But it's a two person job. If both of us aren't into this, then it's all for naught. All of it."

"In case you've forgotten, I was never into this to begin with."

"Why would you hinder the medicine that could potentially heal you?"

"I told you. There's nothing that's capable of helping me!"

"You keep telling me that, but until I see evidence of what you're saying, I don't believe you."

"Are you blind?" He roared.

In one swift motion, sunshine shifted onto his knees. He leaned forward, his fingers digging into the carpet as if for stability.

"You have so many problems yourself, you look like a fool. You say that I'm not beyond help, but what about you? Why don't you take care of your own problems if you're going to preach to me about it? Try delousing your own life before you attempt to help mine."

Most people would have been thoroughly insulted by such bold statements coming from a man like Gaara. But as for me, I merely laughed.

"I know what I need. Being as it's a rare form of medication, I just haven't found it yet."

"And that is?"

I could have chosen to point out that he'd had yet to give me the answers I'd sought from him since day one. Instead, I silently submitted to his inquiry.

The answer sunshine sought was within the memories of my first year's spring on the job. Clearwater Institute paid more attention to the weather than The Groundhog nearing the end of the winter season, partially because they always celebrated their first week of warmer climates with a picnic. Everyone on staff would be assigned a particular food or activity to bring once the day was officially decided. When everyone's name was cleared, vouching that we all had no further work to do for the day, we would all file out to the park, which was also voted on as winter drew to a close. My first year, however, I refused to take part. Kakashi had hung a list of all the employees in the building, and allowed the items to be declared free game to whoever wanted to bring them. As the day drew nearer, however, others began to realize that there was one lonely name that had yet to agree to bring anything at all. Sakura, a brand-new employee whose name I hadn't bothered to even commit to memory at the time, constantly peeked over the walls of the cubicle.

"Miyune, you haven't agreed to bring anything to the picnic yet. Why not?"

Each and every time, I'd simply glare at her, unresponsive. Thoroughly deflated, she'd slink away. It was obvious she was excited about the event, though I just couldn't seem to manage enough compassion to care. Soon enough, however, I began to realize that the entire list was full. The gaping slot that had stuck out like a sore thumb was now filled. I would stop whatever it was I was doing, and glower at the list as I searched for my name.

'Angel's food cake' was the first item to mysteriously be scrawled next to my name. Vigorously, I erased it. More items soon took its place in the days to follow, however. Eventually, I just left the item there. I began to make a quest out of discovering who it was that was filling these items in for me. I would compare the handwriting of the others on the list to the manuscript beside of mine. Though not without my suspicions, I had no means of punishing (legally) the culprit I suspected, so the day of the picnic, before Kakashi took the list down to check that everyone had brought what they had said that they would, I quickly erased the item beside my name. My endeavor wasn't gone unnoticed, however, as a soft sigh escaped the lips of a peer standing directly behind me. I whirled around, face to face with my boss. At this point in time, I hadn't spoken much with him, so he was still the intimidating figure lurking in the shadows of and diluting what I considered successes to me, as he was to most people.

"You have to bring something if you want to go. I'm not allowing freeloaders to attending a business outing."

"Then we both win," I retorted irritably, assuming he was who had written the unspoken obligations in my name. "I don't want to go."

I had originally pinned the blame on Sakura, but as I began to stalk anything she'd written on, I realized that she wrote with far too many 'loops' and 'swirls' to be able to claim that particular handwriting.

"It's a free meal on a nice day with the company of your peers. Why not go?"

I wanted to point out that I saw my peers nearly every day, and that in itself was the problem.

"If you're going to allow me to leave work early, I'd rather just go home."

"Allergies?"

"What?" I asked incredulously, taken back.

"Guess not."

Kakashi stroked his chin as he thought aloud.

"You'd rather go home?"

"Yeah."

"And why is that?"

I bit my lip, forbidding protests to manifest in my voice.

"You know, Miyu," Kakashi said in the wake of my silence. "You're a good psychiatrist. Intelligence and tact are things I highly value in my employees, and you utilize both on a daily basis. You know when you can get away with being bold, and you understand when it's better just to hold your tongue. That's something they don't teach in college courses."

I frowned at him, unsure of where he was going with this. The hand at his chin dropped to his waist, finding his pocket.

"But like everyone else, you're not perfect, and you have a gaping fatal flaw that I just can't look past. You lack the sense of pivot in your life."

My jaw slackened, and my eyes locked onto his as if trying to read him as I'd never bothered to before that point.

"Are you calling me lazy?" I retaliated vehemently.

I would consider myself a number of things. 'Lazy' just didn't come to mind.

"Not lazy. But there's not much to strive for when you don't know what you're striving for. Understand?"

The man spoke in parables, much to my dismay.

"So you're calling me unmotivated."

"Essentially."

Almost as an afterthought, he added, "I'm sure that if you were to put some effort into the social interactions with others, instead of trying to hide from them, you'd find someone, or something, worthwhile. The day that you find it, if ever, I hope you're still working for me."

In reminiscence, I felt a wry smile creep across my lips.

"According to Kakashi, I have no pivot in my life," I explained to Gaara.

He frowned, confusion washing across his face. Sunshine had been expecting something specific, such as, "Prozac". I relished the bemused expression in his eyes, his head cocked to the side as if trying so hard to hear something within the silence, knowing that it wouldn't last.

"No… pivot…" His lips faintly moved in sync with the contours of the syllables he spoke. "But… I thought your motive was to… help…?"

I suppressed a grin threatening to brighten my face as he said the word 'help' as if attempting to speak a foreign language.

"It is. But to hear Kakashi say it, he believes that I could be more if I just had more motivation."

I shrugged, as if to nonchalantly suggest that the moment in time was frequently lost in the scheme of my memories. That my boss' words had never really left its mark on my heart, even though that was a lie.

"So just imagine what you could accomplish if you had a pivot of your life. Aside from telling everyone you meet to go to hell, of course. If you're motivated enough to push people away to get your peace and quiet, just think what you could do if that drive were redirected into something at least semi-constructive."

Gaara lifted his head, his eyes focusing intently on the wall to his right. I cast a brief glance to see what had caught his attention, when it suddenly commanded mine.

"It's twenty-one after two," I mused aloud wryly, glaring at the clock, as if was its fault my guest was M.I.A.

My gaze flickered back to Gaara, whose eyes were concentrated on me now. A coy grin slowly spread across his face. Without him having to speak a word, I knew the triumph already budding in his mind.

With a low growl bubbling in my throat, my fingers slid into my pocket, fishing for my cellphone.

Usually it would be on my coffee table, but not today, since I knew better than to leave much of anything lying around when I knew Gaara would be within fifty meters.

I heard the phone ring four times before my call was answered.

"I'm trying to work, Miyu."

"Yeah, and so am I," I retorted spitefully, "if only your buddy would show up for this pow-wow you set me up for, then I could get back to work, too."

I listened to the piercing silence following my statement. Papers rustled softly in the background as Kakashi temporarily relocating the heap of files from in front of the digital clock on his desk, no doubt.

"It's only twenty after two."

"Twenty-two after," I quickly corrected him, my eyes now glued to the clock on my wall as I began watching it like a hawk.

More rustling. Muffled speech as Kakashi placed his hand over the receiver and spoke to someone else.

"Give him a minute."

"He's had twenty two… twenty three minutes."

Static sang to my eardrums as he sighed into the phone.

"Will it make you happy if I call him to see where he is?"

"Not really," I admitted, unabashed.

"I'll call you back as soon as I speak to him."

I snapped the phone shut, my job at successfully harassing my boss completed. Sinking back into my couch, I allowed my head to loll back.

"We haven't heard the last of him," I informed no one in particular, staring aimlessly at the ceiling.

"If he doesn't come?"

I groaned, not wanting to face my boss the next day if this were the case.

"Do not tempt the wrath of the great and powerful Oz," I warned him dully, only partially referring to myself.

The first chorus of my ringtone was denied, having swiped up my phone within the first three notes.

"Is he a no-go?"

"He's on his way now."

"Of course he is," I droned. "Where is he now?"

"Just leaving Yokohama," Kakashi replied, a sing-song tune in his voice, as if excited at his comrade's tardiness.

I blanched at the sentence. Yokohama was about twenty-six minutes away, at least, and that was if he took a train. By car, through the traffic on the highways and main roads, however, it would be closer to an hour before he arrived in Tokyo. This wasn't even taking into consideration if he got lost on the way to my house, or needed more specific directions.

"Yokohama… He's just now…?"

"Yup."

I clenched my jaw furiously.

"I hate this kid."

"That's Naruto for you."

"What's his number?"

"You're not calling him."

"Why not?" I demanded.

"Because," Kakashi explained slowly, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, "I'm not going to allow you to flag him down and harass him personally."

"You can't expect me to sit around here and wait forever for the guy to get here."

"Not forever. Just for the next half hour or so."

I brought the phone in front of me, and did the most intelligent, instinctive thing I was capable of concocting in my sadistic mind. At the top of my lungs, I screamed my boss' name.

"Kakashi!"

Even Gaara winced, glaring at me as if I'd lost all reason. Vaguely, I heard a female on Kakashi's end inquire to my boss, "Was that Miyune just now?", and my day suddenly seemed complete.

I smiled, gleefully aware that I had more than likely thoroughly pissed my boss off.

"I want to meet him somewhere. I can't just sit here and twiddle my thumbs with Gaara for the next hour."

My plan was met with silence. Not surprising, taking into consideration the immature, smart-assed stunt I'd pulled only a few moments earlier.

"Fine. You call him, and relay his thoughts on the matter to me. Filter me if you must."

"There is no filtering you," Were the last words he grumbled out before the line ended.

I chuckled, and averted my attention to my patient once again. I could only imagine how miffed Kakashi was, if even sunshine continued to glower at me in dismay.

"Oh, you'll get over it, sunshine," I informed him cheerfully. "You always do."