Lost and Found

By: Junsui Kegasu

A/N: Last one, I swear.

Disclaimer: I have officially stopped putt- …damn, I just did…

It had always been in Yashamaru's nature to take things at his own pace. Contrary to normal belief, this phrase generally meant that people took things slowly. However, when he had been caught up with the lives of his niece and nephews, Yashamaru moved the fastest he had in his life, pulling on a jacket, grabbing his wallet and keys, and bolting out the door to his car.

Now, he was speeding down the highway, pushing his speed limit allowance as he tried to make the averagely three-hour drive (with a food stop) go as fast as possible. He was almost there; he could feel it. Dangerous as it was to drive to a place without a map for the first time, especially when you were in a blind panic, he thought he was doing pretty well. The signs that he had glimpsed on his way were telling him that as he progressed, Konoha was getting closer.

With a sense of relief starting to spread through him, Yashamaru now had time to let his mind wander. How could he have no noticed it back in Sunaga? He had kept an eye out for the beloved children of his late sister, but he had never noticed anything unusual, especially about Gaara. Then again, Gaara was barely outside and Temari and Kankurou had looked healthy enough. How could he have been so stupid?

When the rumor had appeared in the magazines, he had been struck by suspicion, but just as he got the nerve to speak to his brother-in-law, they had moved. The first thought that had crossed his mind was that Konoha was a much more peaceful environment for three children to live in, and he dismissed the rumor as some media-fabricated farce. That was the problem with the media: when they were actually correct, no one believed them.

Briefly, he registered the sign that told him he was as of now in Konoha, but he wouldn't buy it until he saw houses. They must've all grown so much since he had last seen them…at least Gaara, anyways. Temari and Kankurou he had shamelessly spied on, just looking out for them. He had never liked Kazekage and truthfully, he didn't see what his sister could've possibly had.

Thinking of the woman brought back old, painful memories. Though they had been twins, they were like day and night. For starters, he was blonde and she had been a brunette. He had been shy and kind of slow to learn things while she had been the sunspot of school, in all honors' classes. The 'twin bond' everyone talked about was either a myth or they just hadn't had it. Often, Yashamaru had concluded that they weren't related, but yet they had the same blood, thus making them siblings.

He had never felt so strongly connected with her before now, as he sped past the outskirts of town, buildings becoming closer spaced. When he saw a sign that pointed him into the direction of the hospital, he enthusiastically turned, toning down his frantic speed to something acceptable for the middle of the city. Konoha was much bigger than Sunaga, and a lot more prosperous, and thus, the streets were busier, and Yashamaru could easily become involved in an accident if he wasn't careful.

However, there were so many cars on the road! Had they all conspired for the sole purpose of keeping him preoccupied? It seemed likely, very likely, and Yashamaru was going to do whatever he could to get to that hospital! Another turn and he could finally see the looming building in the distance, blue signs telling him with a large white "H" that he was at his destination.

The parking lot was one of the stacked kinds, and it was packed. He realized then that he had absolutely no idea where his family was in the large hospital. Opting to just go through the large, obviously 'main' doors, he tried to find a parking lot as close to the bottom as possible. However, the first three floors were completely jammed and the fourth was almost there. Pulling into the first spot he saw, Yashamaru bolted out of the door without giving himself time to stretch from his drive.

He had two options. He could take the elevator and make it to the main floor, or walk back down to the first-level parking lot and walk in through there. This choice was not as obvious as one would like to think, as Yashamaru was not a Konoha citizen, and thus, he had no idea how to navigate his way around their hospital. Hell, he barely knew how to navigate himself around Sunaga's hospital.

After a brief (very, very brief) mental battle, the blonde noticed the aching in his legs, although they hadn't been in much use for a good while, and decided he'd just take the elevator. It was with a grudge that he poked at the buttons to open the door and with nervousness and hesitation that he selected the floor. Floor one seemed blatant, but hospitals could be rather complicated.

He was in luck; the first floor was the main lobby he had sought out. Although the parking lot was full, the owners of the vehicles must've been dispersed throughout the wards, because there was no line at the receptionist desk, and the lobby was mostly empty, with the exception of a few stressed looking people. Seizing his opportunity, Yashamaru made his way to the receptionist's desk.

Without bothering to register the person's physical description, he quickly asked for 'Sabaku Gaara'. After a moment (an oh, so long moment) of waiting, a bored voice told him the room, and without even remembering to thank the kind person, Yashamaru scuttled off to the elevator. He felt anxious, anxious and scared. Would his nephew be prepared to see him? He hadn't exactly been the best family member. He had drifted away, grieving the death of his beloved twin.

He had been so selfish, and now, he supposed he'd just have to pay for it. When the elevator carried him to his destination (the Room of Judgment, as far as he was concerned) he numbly stepped out, surveying his surroundings: Had the receptionist said ER? He couldn't remember, but he could tell immediately that was where he stood. ER brought back painful memories, but he could just feel it: Gaara wouldn't die. He couldn't die. He had hardly lived!

No, everything was going to be okay. Everything. And everything meant, well, everything, for lack of a better term. It was the one thing he and his late twin had in common: Hope and optimism. The thought gave Yashamaru confidence, and with newfound vitality, he stepped out into the sanitized world of a waiting room. This time, his hands would cup his broken family and hold them for as long as possible. He wouldn't let them slip through his fingers, not again.

In his entire fourteen years of being nothing but a frail burden, Gaara had never felt so unsteady in his life. He had learned that once you were knocked down, once you got back up, you were okay, and with that hope, he always managed to stand up. He had always ignored his protesting legs, but right now, he felt that his less-than-healthy weight was too obese for those formerly reliable toothpicks to bear. However, he wouldn't ask for help. That was pushing it.

Back in the hospital room, although it was eerily silent and frighteningly colorless, he had felt a faint sense of security. He had been convinced that he wasn't being bad in there, but now, walking into the waiting room, into public, the nervousness consumed him again. Gaara glanced to his left, chewing on his bottom lip. Kankurou didn't look as angry any more. In fact, there was a trace of a smile gracing his tanned features. Kankurou's smile always assured him, and calmed him, often giving him the boost of confidence he needed in so many situations, but right now, he couldn't bring himself to ask.

The doctor was still with them. Perhaps that was the hinder in his voice, the muffler on his voice box. He wanted to grab onto his big brother's arm and hide from the world. The older teen's size superiority over his own would help greatly, but if he did anything wrong, how would the doctor react? The last thing he wanted was to be sent to some kind of psychiatrist. He knew that given the circumstances, that's exactly what these people wanted to do with him.

Oh, how he wanted to talk to his big brother. He had even lost his feeling of selfishness and unworthiness. He wanted…he wanted…he wanted…

He wanted.

There was no other way to put it. It was so foreign to him, but he wanted. He wanted Neji; he wanted everything to be okay between them. He wanted Kankurou; he wanted his big brother to protect him from the evils that were out in that world; beyond their little world of horror. He knew there was more. He wanted Temari; he wanted to see her happy again. He didn't want to see those fake, scarred smiles. He wanted something, anything, but he couldn't grasp it. It had no physical form.

Without realizing it, they had made it to the doors that separated all those rooms of wounded and sick people from the lobby. Suddenly, Gaara felt very self-conscious of the fact that the only thing adorning his frame was that dreadful hospital gown. It was actually revealing, and not in the slightly-too-big-too-low way. Large portions of his chest, displaying the numerous ridges of malnutrition, were visible through the too-large sleeves, and the slit down about midway down his back showed off scars compiling over years and made one sleeve slip almost-off his shoulder, bony, thin, and bruised.

That was the final straw. He refused to show off this weakness to the public. Turning (with some difficulty, as he was still very unsteady on his legs) he tugged weakly on Kankurou's sleeve, his small hand trembling with the effort of merely raising his arm. Unsurprisingly, the older teen turned to him, a benignly curious look decorating his face. Gaara couldn't help but notice he had no kabuki paint right now.

"U-um…" his voice was hardly more than a pathetic whisper, and he tried to raise it, but that muffler still had control of his voice box. Thankfully Kankurou bent down, his ear within inches of his brother's lips. "I-I'm b-barely dec-decent," he said ashamedly, not even bothering to try and suppress his stutter. Kankurou pulled back, surveying him, and then nodded in agreement.

The doctor was about to open the door, but Kankurou cried out for him to stop. When all eyes were on the brunette, he cleared his throat quietly and pulled off the hooded sweatshirt he was wearing over a tee shirt. Handing it to his younger brother, he turned to the confused bystanders. "Not enough clothing," he explained without doing so. The doctor merely shrugged and pushed open the door.

Gaara couldn't help but get the impression that he was leaving sanitation to go back to the real world, where people got hurt and people got sick and everything wasn't so white. Although the whole hospital was bathed in the non-color, perhaps the stench of pain, death, and antiseptics would end beyond those doors. He reveled in the feeling of Kankurou's sweater; the way it wasn't white, the way it wasn't sterilized, the way it had a scent contrasting from the hospital.

He hated this place.

Gaara was sure he was prepared for anything when he opened those doors; stares, glares, and perhaps people sobbing over loved ones. However, there was one face that surprised him, one flushed, worried, shining face amidst the sea of grief.

"Yashamaru?" he called out. Yashamaru's gaze fell on them, but he knew it wasn't because of his voice. Kankurou had called out at the same time. Feeling very abashed when his uncle's eyes trailed over his frame – especially the parts of exposed skin he could see, he hid himself behind Kankurou again, feeling a gentle flush fill his face.

To his right, Neji looked confused…but was there sadness in there too? Why was Neji sad? Was it his fault? He knew that in the end, he would only be a burden to Neji. Feeling his heart sink lower than it was, through his stomach, settling somewhere lower, he chewed on his lip, and looked down, feeling the tears brimming at his eyes.

'Neji…I'm so sorry…"
It was selfish, he told himself. He was being too selfish. They had a guardian to go to, and they would go with that guardian. Still, Neji couldn't describe the immense disappointment that washed through him when he heard Kankurou call out the name of their uncle…Yashamaru, was it? He wanted to keep Gaara with him forever, to hold him and whisper sweet nothings and make everything okay.

And he knew that it was wrong. He tried to look happy, tried to look relieved, but it was failing, and he could tell. Why did Gaara have to leave? In truth, they hadn't even been in the city long, and now they were leaving…it saddened him greatly. He could only hope that they could stay in touch, perhaps visit, but he knew, as he had known earlier, that it wouldn't work. They were bound to separate and find new friends.

'Well, here goes nothing,' he told himself as their little group stepped into the lobby. Gaara was intent on keeping himself hidden from the world, clinging to the back of Kankurou's shirt like a toddler with separation anxiety. If there were different circumstances, he would've said it was cute. However, right now, it only brought a pang of sadness to his heart, knowing why Gaara was so afraid, why his steps were slow and he walked with a slight limp.

He was almost surprised when police officers came into the room, but he remembered that Kankurou had been talking to them earlier, and the shock ebbed off quickly. He fell behind the group, feeling out of place when Temari, Kankurou, with Gaara in tow, went up to the blonde man; a family reunion.

Speaking of family, where was Hiashi, anyways? Everything was fuddled around; he didn't really care. He needed a place to sit down and sort his scattered thoughts, file them away into their respective folders, and then, only then, would he cry for his loss. Suddenly, he was exhausted. Slumping forward in his chair, Neji let his face rest in his cupped hands, trying to relax all his muscles.

The silence ringing in his ears was comforting, and he jumped when he heard a tiny, pitiful whisper call his name. Trying to hide his startled state, he looked up, giving Gaara his full attention. The smaller teen was standing in front of him, his stance showing how nervous he was. Thin index fingers were joining themselves together, and then separating, joining, separating…

"D-do…do you…w-wanna meet Uncle Y-Yashamaru?"

Meet Yashamaru? He wasn't sure. He thought he might break down at the thought of his boyfriend leaving him if he met the man that was to take him away. He hated himself for being so selfish, but he didn't want to let Gaara go; as silly as it sounded, he was in love. He couldn't exactly turn Gaara down, though, especially not with the way he was standing, so patiently awaiting his response, so he nodded his head and stood up to follow the redhead's shuffle across the room.

Yashamaru was a kind looking person with feminine features. Actually, he resembled Gaara in quite a few ways. Through Neji's jealousy came a wave of relief, relief that his damaged friend would be in good hands, whether it was with him or someone else. Just then, even though he should've felt overwhelmed, and nothing should've seemed okay at all, he felt at peace. Everything would be okay.

"Hello," Yashamaru greeted pleasantly, reaching forward to ever so gently embrace Gaara in a hug. Not to Neji's surprise, the boy flinched, but tried not to make it noticeable to his uncle.

"Hi," he told him back. "I'm Neji."

"Yashamaru. Is this city nice?" At the question, the blonde looked around the room, his eyes settling on something to his right. When Neji looked he wasn't startled to find Kankurou conversing with the police again.

"Um…I think so…I mean, we've had low crime rates…" Neji told him, unsure of most of the information. Truthfully, he had never seen anything of utter idiocy to bring down their city's reputation on the television, so he had merely assumed that they were good about it.

"I see, that is a good thing…" There was a brief pause in which Yashamaru let his gaze wander to the small boy encased in his arms. Gaara had relaxed by now, sinking into his uncle's arms. Something warm filled Neji when he saw how protected his boyfriend looked. "The media is going to be soaring…they'll be trying to interview you all."

Neji hadn't even considered that. Temari, Kankurou, and Gaara were the children of a former political leader…something like this was exactly what those annoying reporters loved. A spark of anger ignited when he thought of how frightening that would be to them, namely Gaara. "That's true…damn." He hadn't meant to curse, and was about to apologize, but Yashamaru chuckled softly.

"I suppose I can try to take care of it, then… They won't send the reporters from Sunaga, so they won't pester me too much. The Sunaga ones would since they got a story out of me so easily last time."

Wait, was this man saying what Neji thought? He was in disbelief. "You m-mean, you plan on living here?" he asked, awed. Yashamaru nodded in response, a smile gracing his features. "Yes, Sunaga holds far too many bad memories."

Neji beamed. "I think I could get you a residency, too…it wouldn't be hard, see my uncle-"

"Neji."

He turned to whoever had called his name (it wasn't like it was a common one, after all) and was surprised to see his uncle. "What took you so long?" he couldn't help but ask, walking away from Yashamaru to speak with the older man.

"Well, traffic was really bad and your cousins weren't happy that I wouldn't tell them what was going on." He spotted Gaara, still enveloped in Yashamaru's arms. Pulling Neji out of their earshot, he bent down to whisper, "Is he alright?"

Neji wasn't too sure how he should answer that. Was Gaara okay? He was healing, but he wasn't sure how to describe it, so he decided to keep his silence. Kindly, his uncle didn't pressure him.

"We have caught Sabaku Kazekage and he is now being held in prison until we manage to get him to court."

It was only one sentence, one out of billions he had heard in his lifetime, but that one sentence, to Kankurou, screamed redemption. One sentence meant everything, anything. However, there was one tear in his cloth of perfection.

"Will Gaara be required to attend court?" he asked, dreading the answer. If Gaara so much as glanced at their father again, Kankurou knew that he'd be rendered to a stuttering, sobbing mess, mortified to tell the truth and instead get rescue their father from the sentence he ultimately deserved.

"No, your brother will not. You, however, as the one who reported this, will."

Well, that was fine with him. He wasn't afraid to tell the truth, and, if necessary, exaggerate it if it meant putting his and his siblings' tormentor behind bars. He felt the minor tear in Perfection mend itself, and found the euphoria bubbling within him again, it's source a volcano in his soul that had stayed dormant for far too long. He felt…he wasn't sure…but he felt something…and it wasn't bad.

Thanking the officer truthfully, and even remembering to bow in respect, Kankurou left. He made his way back over to his uncle and Temari. He was pleasantly surprised to see his sister attached to Yashamaru's arm and Gaara enveloped in an embrace. It was a long time that he had seen Gaara that comfortably in the presence of an adult, and it made him happy.

"Kankurou, is everything sorted out?" Temari asked. Lately, she had been strangely silent, and her voice sounded strange, but nice in the air.

"Yeah…I need to go court to finalize everything with it, though," he told her.

"But, what if he managed to overpower you?" Temari was alarmed; he could hear it in her voice.

"It won't happen. I refuse to under exaggerate anything. If I need to over exaggerate in order to get him out of our lives, I will," he told her, his voice firm and assuring. Gaara, who had gone slightly pale(r), regained the little color he had, a tiny twitch of a smile crossing his face.

As one, they made their way over to Neji and Hiashi, who were talking quietly together. As soon as they were within hearing range, the conversation stopped and Hiashi smiled warmly. "Yashamaru-san, it is my understanding that you are in need of a home to live with these minors. I happen to have a residency available, which I own not too far from where I live now, and where Temari, Kankurou, and Gaara previously lived for you to live in, if you wished to."

"Oh, sir, that would really be so kind of you…you really don't have to…I'm sure I can find a place in this city, really-"

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, Yashamaru-san. Plus, I'm sure that they would all like to be close to one another." At his words, Gaara and Neji blushed softly. Kankurou smiled; that really would be nice. Neji had been such a benefactor in their lives; it would be painful for him to suddenly disappear from it.

"Well…if you insist…I suppose I could…"

As the adults went on, talking about rent, Gaara gently squirmed away from his uncle, allowing Neji to embrace him, pulling the redhead against his chest. Kankurou was sure that he had never felt this happy in his entire existence, and it soared within him. Hyuuga Neji was a miracle on their dreary lives, and a hero in his opinion. Heroes could be anyone, minor or legal, he realized. He had never thought about it much until now.

But Neji was more than a hero. He was the light in darkness, the oxygen in atmosphere, and the optimism in gloom. Because of him, so many things were changed. Some events had happened, some events were avoided; most importantly, he had changed them all as people. Neji was more than a friend, more than a boyfriend, more than a hero, and because of him, they were going on to live better lives.

They were found.

KYAH! I FINISHED! I FINISHED! YAY! YAAAAY! PRAISE ME! PRAAAISE ME! Oh, this is sadly short, though…it's like…8 pages…but it's a lot of words, 'cause there are big paragraphs. Well, feedback people! I'd love to thank you all, and be on the look out for more stories! I do plan on writing more! I love you all!