Let's do this:
Gaara filled four pages of his new sketchpad in two hours. Mostly because he was bored, but it had a lot to do with the fact that the sketchpad was half the size of his old one. But still, it was the thought counted, the thought that counted even more than the gesture. The giving and the receiving feeling lingered every time he touched the sketchpad. It was the best gift Naruto could've gotten him. Now he had to get Naruto something just as good. But there was a problem. He'd never had money in his life. If he did, he'd spend it on Naruto. But... he didn't. So really that thought didn't count.
He groaned, laying his head down on the computer table. He wanted Naruto to feel just as happy as he did. And how could he do that without money? Just the thought made him feel guilty, like he was being cheap or something, like Naruto didn't matter. No, the blond mattered very much to him, that's what ate at him. Gaara wanted to pay him back somehow, but he knew there's no way it would have monetary value. He'd go for sentimental value.
As long as it was the thought that counted, right?
"Psst. Gaara," Naruto whispered as he passed him. "What's up?"
The redhead nodded at him as he walked by, then resumed thinking about his dilemma.
"Psst, Gaara, what's up?" Naruto said again, going back to his seat.
Gaara didn't acknowledge him or his weirdness. Naruto would be Naruto. Naruto was just being Naruto.
Kankuro slammed his locker door shut. Just as it closed, he cursed, remembering he still had things to pack. He began to unlock his locker again, but his hand fumbled at the cheap lock and he messed it up again. "Damn," he cursed, trying the combination again. He was running kind of late now. Most kids were gone, right now. It's a good thing he didn't take the bus, or he would've missed it. Instead he got to walk home whenever he wanted. He'd always gotten whatever he wanted, hadn't he?
A familiar guilt gripped his throat and he swallowed, shaking his head ever so slightly.
"-That dumb faggot's gonna' regret-"
Kankuro's eyes narrowed.
Who was talking?
The term faggot had never meant anything to him before. It had been an insult. A derogatory, mean term that was a good, insulting name for boys you hated. He knew what it meant, of course, but it had never seemed significant before. Not before he'd found out Gaara was gay. Now faggot seemed wrong to say to him. Now he felt guilty for ever saying the word, or even thinking the word. He actually felt guilty for not reprimanding his friends every time they used the word. But he wasn't their parents, was he? If they wanted to use a disgusting word like that, then they could if they wanted. It was a free country. He wasn't responsible for them, right?
As much as he'd begun to hate that word.
Gay used to mean stupid and weak to him.
Now it was just... the word for different, for having different preferences than the rest of humanity.
Faggot used to be just a mean word, another word for someone stupid, someone who didn't fit in, a freak.
Now he didn't even want to think of it, much less use it anymore.
No, Gaara wasn't a faggot. He was his little brother. And being gay was nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing wrong with it, right?
He glanced around the corner and saw the retreating backs of boys he vaguely recognized as the boys in his Math class. They'd talked occasionally when they were bored, but they weren't close or anything.
He followed them, wondering why they were laughing and why they were running around the school talking about a "faggot" regretting something.
Kankuro found himself in the freshman hallway.
A familiar hallway, to a familiar locker. He glared at the boys, hovering in front of his baby brother's locker, giggling. He scowled. Nothing good could come from this. One of the boys sniggered, then dropped his permanent marker on the ground. "Let's go," he chuckled to his friend. They both left, dropping their black sharpies to the ground carelessly before leaving. Kankuro went over to Gaara's locker. He read the words they'd written. Then looked in the direction they'd left, suddenly murderous and ready to chase after them and give them a real nasty beating. But they'd gone and there was no point. Instead, he'd work frantically to get these stupid words off Gaara's locker.
On the locker in permanent black marker that would take forever to rub and wash off was:
Do the world a favor and slit your wrists, faggot. Maybe if we r all lucky your boyfriend will get depressed and follow u.
I hate homophobes.
Isn't that nice of Kankuro?
Anyhow... yep, that's it. Sorry if it seems choppy and kind of... pointless. I'm still recovering from my sickness (the Slump).