Haunted
By: Junsui Kegasu
A/N: I'm like…really depressed and angry for no reason at the moment, there is seriously no explanation for it, so I'm trying to convert it into angst. UNLIKE my most recent chapter of LaF, this one will NOT be angst free.
Disclaimer: …Fuck you…
To say that Hyuuga Neji was pissed was an understatement. No, Neji was beyond pissed. He had woken up that morning to find not only was his boyfriend missing (which he couldn't have done by himself judging by the fact he had heard a couple of snaps when he stamped on his chest) and a note explaining what had happened.
Kankurou had taken him. Neji was really beginning to hate the older man, at the moment. He knew – just knew – that Gaara was cheating on him. It just made sense! Whenever Neji reminded him how worthless he was whom did he run to? Kankurou. Who always tended to his deserved wounds? Kankurou.
It was 'Kankurou this' and 'Kankurou that' whenever they had conversations, sometimes. He was sick of it. No, he was not jealous, but Gaara was his, and rightfully so, the teen had a nice big love bite on his stomach to prove it.
He wasn't sure what he felt for the redhead anymore. He was going to break up with him, but then one thing had led to another, and he had ended up claiming the boy's virginity instead. He was a good fuck. Maybe he'd keep him anyways.
He realized where he was and slammed on the breaks, backing up a little and pulling into the parking lot. He got out of his car and slammed the door shut, stomping past the lobby and up the elevator to Kankurou's apartment.
Neji pounded his fist on the door a few times. When nobody answered, he growled. What were they doing, having sex? He hadn't bothered to check the parking lot for Kankurou's car. His hand found itself to the rusted doorknob and he twisted it roughly, surprised when it clicked and the door opened.
So he was home! He must've been, the door was unlocked! Neji stepped through the doorway and slammed the door behind him.
"KANKUROU!" he screamed out, hoping to get his attention. "GAARA! GET YOUR WORTHLESS ASS OUT HERE!" When no one came, Neji growled in annoyance. Gaara always listened to him.
He stamped around the apartment, overturning tables, chairs, and breaking a few picture frames and other breakable items, scouring around for the two objects of his rage.
After he had left the kitchen demolished, the living room unrecognizable, and knocked everything out of the cabinets of the bathroom, Neji came to the bedroom, glaring at closed wooden door.
He wrenched the doorknob and kicked the door open, where it slammed against the wall with a satisfying bang. The bed was made neatly; no signs of sex were there. This angering him, Neji yanked the covers from their tidy places and knocked over the dresser, cracking the mirror hanging over it with his fist. Luckily, the mirror only cracked instead of shattered when he had punched it, so he had no wound, but since the mirror wasn't completely destroyed, he took it and threw it against the opposite wall, growling in annoyance.
Another search of the place, not nearly as thorough, determined that neither Kankurou nor Gaara was anywhere within the vicinity, so Neji swore loudly and left a note taped to the door before slamming it behind him. He didn't bother with the elevator, stamping down the stairs and out of the building, getting back into his car and speeding his way home.
'Where the fuck is that little slut?'
Kankurou smiled as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex. Gaara, next to him on the passenger side, had fallen back to sleep. He was so cute looking. He got out of the car and shut the door gently, not wanting to wake the redhead.
When he opened the door to the passenger side, he had his arms ready so Gaara, who had been leaning against the door, didn't fall or wake up. Kankurou was grateful for this. With one arm, he reached over and undid the sleeping teen's seatbelt, lifting him into his arms, yet again, and shutting the door with his foot.
He had to balance Gaara on a knee as he opened the door to the building and maneuver it so Gaara didn't knock his head or feet on the edges of the doorway. Once he got into the lobby, he smiled at the receptionist and adjusted Gaara in his arms.
"Hi, there, Kankurou," the woman greeted. Over the months Kankurou had learned that her name was Ino, and though she was kind of on the shallow side, she was still a nice girl.
"Hey," he greeted casually, making his way to the elevator.
"Someone came in and stamped his way to the elevator earlier, but he left like…ten, fifteen minutes after he had come. Have no clue what he wanted, he definitely doesn't live here," she told him conversationally.
"Ah, well, thanks Ino-chan." For some reason, this knowledge gave Kankurou a little bit of a bad feeling. Were there burglars assaulting the residents again? Had he locked his door? He couldn't remember, but he usually did, even when he was in a hurry.
'Yeah, but not a panicked hurry,' a voice in his head told him. 'What if something happened?'
He shook off his conscience, telling himself he was just being paranoid and that his main priority (which was, for once, something not extremely critical) was to get Gaara to a nice, warm, soft bed. He was sure his arms couldn't be that comfortable.
The elevator had reached his stop, so he climbed out, again taking care to watch out for Gaara's feet and head. He made his way down the hall to his room, the only noise in his wake being the scratchy noise that was made when the rubber of the bottom of a shoe scraped tile.
He reached for his keys, again having to balance Gaara on his knee, but suddenly, an impulsion overtook him and he replaced his keys, instead reaching out and twisting the knob, holding his breath in dread.
A sinking sensation began in his chest when the lock clicked and he found himself pushing the door open with ease. He hoped nothing of great value had been stolen.
He stepped into apartment and felt his breath catch in his throat. The place looked like a tornado had run through it; the table was overturned, many household items scattered across the floor and picture frames cracked or destroyed entirely. He hoped the pictures were unscathed; things in the frames were one-of-a-kind.
He was about to go investigate the mess that was his living room, but decided it might be a good idea to put Gaara down, first. Passing through the kitchen, he was horrified to find it in the same state – the tap was running, the refrigerator and freezer doors open, the table overturned and random silverware thrown across the room. He bit his lip and quickly made his way to the bedroom.
'Well,' Kankurou thought sarcastically. 'At least the bed is still in the right place.' He set Gaara down and surveyed the damage done to this room: Blankets were astray and his dresser had been raided, random articles of clothing littering the area. Whoever had come by had not liked mirrors - the one that had hung over his now overturned dresser was shattered against the wall.
He made his way to the bathroom, deciding he would relieve himself before starting any cleaning. He groaned when he discovered that the bathroom was in as much disarray as the rest of his apartment and scooped up some of the medicine tubes and stuffed them back into their respective cabinets, sighing.
He had a lot of work to do. It would be best to get started soon, so he could finish before his two-week break was up. How much time did he have left? Three days? That might be enough.
Kankurou finished his business and made his way from the bathroom, choosing to ignore the mess in there and start in the living room. When he walked in, the first thing he noticed was a note taped to the door, which he hadn't seen before because it was on the inside.
Why would a burglar leave a note? He plucked the scrap of paper from the wood of his door, his expression darkening as he read through it:
'Dear Kankurou –Where the fuck is Gaara? What the fuck have you two been doing? I know there's something going on here! I'll come back, and I want him back or something's getting their ass kicked.'
The rude note didn't need to be signed for Kankurou to know who it was. Of course. Who else would come into his apartment just out of random? A burglar wouldn't take any time coming up to his floor, which was pretty high up, unless they personally knew him, and Kankurou was sure he knew no burglars.
Neji. He wasn't getting Gaara, not until his ribs were healed. If he needed to fight the younger man, he would. He wasn't afraid to.
Three days after Neji's rampage came and went astoundingly quickly,Kankurou noted. He had let Gaara help a little bit with the restoration of his living space, but because of his injured ribs, he had forbidden the redhead to do anything that a toddler couldn't.
Which pretty much meant he was picking up small, and without glass shards. Kankurou knew for a fact that Gaara's skin was a lot thinner and easier to cut through than his, from an unfortunate experience.
The first day of fifth grade made Kazemiichi Kankurou feel very much like a big kid. He was walking to school without anyone older than him, accompanied only by his best (and younger by two years) friend, Gaara. His older sister, Temari, had gone off to middle school, and she had seemed so smug, leaving early in the morning to catch a bus by her lonesome.
Hmmf. Well, that was okay, because the bus stop was just a little ways down from their house and he and Gaara got to walk down a busy street together, and he was the one in charge! Not that he'd ever boss Gaara around, but it was an exuberating feeling.
Kankurou frowned when he saw, in the distance, a middle aged man with a bottle clutched in his hand, reflecting the morning light off it's clear surface.
"Gaara, stick your hands in your pocket," he told the redhead beside him, who was currently content with sliding the sleeve of his hooded sweatshirt, which was encasing his hand along the brick wall next to them. At Kankurou's words, he blinked large, green eyes, but obeyed, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Keep your head down, too," Kankurou added, remembering Temari's words. The third grader next to him nodded, jamming his chin into his chest.
Closer and closer the man came, and when he passed by, Kankurou could see that his hand was shaking. They had just gotten past him when they heard a shatter.
Gaara whirled around to see what had caused the noise, and Kankurou followed suit. The man had sworn loudly and was crouching down to what appeared to be the remains of his bottle.
Kankurou was about to turn and go on his way, remembering Temari's words of not talking to strangers, but Gaara's small voice made him freeze.
"Um, sir, please, let me help with that…" the redhead was saying, going closer to crouch down along side him and scoop up some of the pieces. Kankurou sighed and figured it wouldn't hurt anyone, crouching down next to Gaara and helping as well.
It had been a big bottle, and it had shattered into many pieces. When Gaara and Kankurou had gotten in their hands as many glass shards as possible, they stood up. The man nodded in thanks and turned to go on his way.
There wasn't a trash reciprocal anywhere in sight, so Gaara suggested they just walk, with broken glass in their bare hands, to school, where there was most definitely a disposal area.
Being only ten and eight, neither of them thought of the safety precautions they were breaking, so Kankurou decided it was a good idea and they continued.
As they got a little closer to the school, an orange blob zoomed past, followed closely by an adult, the orange thing bashing into Kankurou's shoulder, who in turn bashed into Gaara's.
Kankurou felt the glass move and stab into his skin, but on closer inspection, he was okay.
"U-um…Ka-kankurou?"
Kankurou turned to face Gaara, scowling and mentally cursing the boy, who he knew as Uzumaki Naruto, in the third grade with Gaara. However, all begrudging thoughts of the nine-year-old faded when he saw Gaara's arm.
It looked as though the glass had done what the glass in Kankurou's hand had done, but instead, it sliced open a wound, which bled, pooling upon his bare forearm, the sleeve pushed up to the elbow.
Kankurou had clapped his sweatshirt-covered hand over Gaara's wound and hastened the way to school, where his cut needed to be bandaged.
It was then that Kankurou realized just how much more fragile Gaara was than him.
As he was getting ready for work, Kankurou let an absent smile play across his lips. They had been so innocent and carefree back then. Thoughts of boyfriends and being hit hadn't even crossed the angel-pure depths.
If only it could be that way again…
He pulled on his jacket, catching sight of Gaara's expression from the corner of his eye.
"Gaara, look, I wish I didn't have to go either, but…"
"N-no…it's not that, Kankurou," Gaara said quietly. "I just…feel so weird being in your house without you…like I'm invading. Maybe I should go back to Neji's…"
"No! Please, Gaara, not yet. Just another day, and you'll be okay and I…well…I don't want you to go!" he cried, amazed that he had admitted that.
Gaara stared at him. "H-huh?" was all the redhead managed.
"I…I don't want you to go back to Neji…I know it's selfish, you love him, but I can't stand to see you hurt because of someone undeserving like him!" Kankurou spilled angrily, crossing the room in a few strides and wrapping his arms around Gaara, who seemed smaller than usual now that Kankurou had the added bulk of his jacket.
After a moment, Gaara responded, wrapping his arms around Kankurou as well. The older man tilted him back and smiled, leaning down to kiss him. Gaara closed his eyes and let him, wondering where, if Kankurou's claims of never being in a relationship were true, he had learned to kiss from.
"I'm sorry, Kankurou…" he told him when they had parted. Kankurou shook his head.
"No, it's me who should be sorry, I'm being selfish," he told him. "Please don't deny it, Gaara. I'll be back, okay? I just…I just want you to have one more day to recover to be sure the next time he stamps on your chest –" the thought of Neji doing it again made a blind rage shoot its way through Kankurou, but he pushed it down. "Your ribs don't puncture a lung or something, okay?"
Gaara gave him a small smile and nodded. "Alright…bye…"
And then he was alone.
It felt so strange, as he had said to be in Kankurou's house without the older boy. He didn't want to be like an intruder, like Neji had been, so carelessly uprooting things that could've had a lot of value, may it be sentiment or currency.
He couldn't even make himself turn on the television, his mind telling him that he would be wasting Kankurou's electric bill and make him need to work harder than he already did.
For a while, Gaara just sat there, in an air of tension although no one else was in the room but him. After a while, he couldn't take it and launched himself off the couch, making his way to the kitchen and pulling out a scrap of paper and pen.
'Kankurou –
Look, I'm really, really, really sorry. I know you wanted me to stay another day to make a full recovery, but I've been feeling fine for days now, and I just can't stand being here when you're not, I feel so…so…weird, and so selfish and rude. I just can't take it. I promise you I won't be beat up the next time I see you, okay? Feel free to drop by…or, since that might upset Neji, I can drop by when he goes to work tomorrow, okay? I feel so wrong, but…I don't know…something compels me to be with you more.
-Gaara'
Gaara stared at the note he had managed to write, deemed it acceptable, and set it on the recently up-righted table. He was sorry, he really was, but he had to get back to Neji. Something told him that if he didn't, the older teen would explode.
He searched the front door for his shoes, and realized after a moment that he hadn't brought any, since Kankurou had scooped him up without shoes or a jacket.
Well, he'd be walking home barefoot, then. He'd done it before.
I'm kind of iffy about having that flashback in there, but you know, part of the love building up between them is their childhood friendship, and I feel that recalling that in flashbacks is a good idea to add onto it. Meh. Feel free to tell me otherwise.