I was going through a Gaara phase. But really, who can blame me? Remember, reviews are always appreciated. These drabbles are experiments that will affect my future writing style!
Requital
Maybe some dreams are impossible to achieve, but Gaara can't stop chasing the only one he's ever had.
"You didn't come home last night," she said, neither curious nor accusing. It was a carefully blank statement.
"I was on a mission," he said automatically.
She raised an eyebrow, and it was then that he remembered that he'd been appointed Kazekage yesterday and his normal excuse wouldn't work anymore.
"I know what you've been doing," she said, after a short pause.
He just looked at her.
"Don't go looking for him anymore. He'll never understand you."
"He's the only one who understands me," he said, voice neutral.
"He doesn't understand your feelings," she amended.
"He understands everyone's feelings," he countered.
She looked at him for a long time before saying, "He'll never think of you that way as long as the traitor boy is still alive. You know that, right?"
His face twisted and he ducked his head, hiding behind his bangs. When he lifted it again, she almost didn't recognize him from the mournful, lost look in his eyes. His tattoo stood out starkly from his face, a blatant reminder.
"I'm sorry," she said gently, face softening, "but you have people who need you now."
He knew it shouldn't, but today the statement seemed meaningless.