Warning(s): Language again, I guess you could say. Expect quite a bit of that, dears. Oh and yaoi all the way to the farthest corner of the Earth.
Disclaimer: I own the ideas, people, not the characters.
Author's Notes: Okay, okay. I do weird POVs, I know. When it's in First Person, it's Gaara. Any other person, and it'll be in Third. Sometimes Gaara will be in Third, I know, but that's only because he's being looked at from a different point of view. Make any sense? If not, I am terribly sorry. You may email me if you wish.
This.Is.A.Tearjerker.Crying.Now.For.Him.
Five.Late.Nights.Fading.
We got more visitors today. I didn't like them at all. Itachi told me to show them to their rooms. I really regretted having him as my 'boss' now. It was getting a little old, him playing the leader.
Follow the leader! He'll lead you to your death!
Sounded just like him.
Damned Uchihas. They are just there to get under your skin. I swear. Good at everything, perfect to annoy, and sexy as hell. Not that I have ever really found them attractive. But to say that would be just like lying to myself, I guess. Yeah, they're sexy. But I don't like their attitude.
I don't like your attitude, mister! Go to your room!
And then there were the other guests already here. They were nearly as bad; always looking at me like they could see right through me. Especially that man. Every time I make eye contact…
Let's just say the shivers aren't from the cold.
On another topic, there's been tell of a relationship going on between that blonde chick and Nara. I wouldn't doubt it; Nara is just one to hit it off with someone who's leaving in a week. Oh well. On the plus side, he'll lay off the complaining, having someone to kick him into place. Though on the down side, once she leaves, he'll be even worse. Good things never do last.
The sun has risen by now, though I couldn't really catch sight of it anyway. Actually, when is that not the case? I occupied myself by choosing something to wear before heading out to greet the new guests. Naruto agreed to take care of them this time, 'else I'd just bite their heads off. Something about them not being exactly the kindly type. That didn't really bother me; I just hope Naruto can handle it. Cause of a snicker here. 'Course he can! If he couldn't, then I'd know, and point it out, and he'd get mad, and we'd argue, ending with me becoming host and him becoming second-in-command, handing me the key to the guests' room.
Looking for something to wear and being picky about it makes me sound like a girl. I don't care though; I doubt anyone is going to comment. Today's arrangement consists of black jeans too long for me, so double-folded at the edges, and a collared, navy blue shirt with mint green pinstripes. To top it off, I decided to wear a long-sleeved, red winter shirt underneath, with black gloves to protect my fingers from the cold, and Neji's leather jacket I had grown to adore and probably plan to steal from him over that.
I hesitated before leaving the room, wondering if I should shut my window today, since the sky signaled the possible onslaught of another rainstorm. I do, since I don't want the wind to blow the rain inside my room, but half of me still wished it to stay open. Outside in the hall I noticed several things: the lights were blindingly bright today for some reason or another; quite a few people were milling about; and the curtains were drawn over hallway windows. Disturbing in the least. Nearly the entire building knew of my obsession with space; to close a window on the floor I lived was suicide.
Blinking as the son of the lady who was staying currently on the first floor without too much social involvement sped by, I turned and made my way to one of the grand staircases, hoping that maybe I could catch Naruto before he snuck off on 'break'. We still worked on the off-season; it was pretty sad.
In the great hall, things were the same. A lot of people were making their way from the tall, oak doors to TenTen's once-empty-but-now-piled-with-papers desk. She seemed about as confused as I was; didn't the off-season mean slow business?
Holding the door open and smiling to the people carrying along their way in and out of the theatre was none other than Shikamaru. His hair had been somewhat tamed into a lower ponytail, and his white dress shirt was carefully buttoned, plus dress pants. All in all, his attire was to be feared. When Shikamaru actually went out of his way to look nice, it meant either the world was ending, or the Ambassador of some faraway nation himself had come to visit. I was now as confused as poor TenTen, if not more.
He waved me over. "Hey, what's with the crowd of sudden people? I thought today would be trouble-free…"
I shrugged to his questioning look, having obviously no answer. Shikamaru sighed. Then I remembered my first initial mission. "Oh, where's Naruto? He was taking care of the early morning guests we had. I wanted to ask him something." But before the brunette could reply back, a voice interrupted.
"Hello there, younguns. Might one of you be able to point me in the direction of a liquor-serving bar?" the deep, accented voice asked.
Don't most bars serve alcohol? Outwardly, I spoke, "Sure," and turned to face the male. He stood tall, and was most definitely not from around here. His hair was orange, not very much red, but bright, bright orange, and his eyes were very green. At first I thought it was the leprechaun God Himself, come to rein the Earth in green clover cleverness, but then forced that conclusion away immediately.
Where was he from? Ireland's very heart?
"Um, sir, just go across the street here. It should be on the right around there, called Harvest or something," I forced out after a very strange and silent moment of staring.
Yeah, his canny resemblance to a leprechaun definitely outdid my own.
"Why thankie, young man."
I almost expected him to disappear in a puff of green, clover-like smoke, but wasn't all-too shocked when he merely walked out the door Shikamaru was still stiffly holding open.
After he was completely out of site, Shikamaru spoke up, "Can you say tourist or what?"
I swallowed thickly, and responded, "God yes. Where have they come from? I guess they don't understand the weather and season here; that may be why we've had such a sudden flood of guests. It's a good thing, though, I guess."
"Good thing? Ha! You're delusional. The off-season is supposed to be for, oh how should I put it, relaxation."
Smirking slightly, I excused myself and meandered through the thinning-yet-also-growing crowd of what had been tagged 'Tourists' to TenTen. She practically grabbed me by the collar to pull me behind the desk.
"What. The. Hell! I swear! They're breeding as we speak! Isn't it supposed to be January?"
Well, yeah, but that didn't stop some leprechauns it seemed. Are they all Irish? I wondered absently, before TenTen shook some sense into me. "They're invading! Quick, get out the nukes and climb under a steel bench!"
Now I remembered why I never talked to her. Pushing her away as gently as I would allow, being horribly annoyed by now, I stalked away in search of someone I had hoped to catch before being sucked into such madness. The idiotic blond. Right.
Said person at the current moment was brooding. Yesterday he had been molested, and the dark cloud had yet to be lifted from his head. Now the guests had it in for him, too. He wondered if Gaara got this much attention.
"Excuse me, I asked you a question."
At this rude snap, Naruto's eyes flitted up and met dark, hinted black ones. "Oh, yea—yes, terribly sorry. What was that?"
Dammit, dammit, dammit! Stop daydreaming, Naruto! It's not good for your health!
"I wanted to know where the shampoo in the bathroom was. I can't seem to find it," the man said, still keeping such a straight and intense glare it nearly made Naruto turn away and walk right out of the room.
He forced a smile onto his face. A charming, polite one, at the very least. Immediately, Naruto strode over into the side room, also known as the bathroom, and fetched a few small, white bottles from the cabinet under the seat. "Here you are, sir," he said pleasantly, setting the bottles onto the counter and retreating back into the main living space of the room.
"Why thank you."
Naruto turned to leave. "I hope you have a wonderful stay here, sir."
A malicious little smirk smeared itself onto the almost abnormally pale man. "I'm sure I will."
The blonde shut the door, and leaned against the other side in the hallway, eyes wide. What…in God's name…was that? If he didn't know better, Naruto could've said that the older man was…was—
"Hey, where the hell have you been? I thought I asked you to help me with clearing the storage room this morning. But, oh no, you're hanging with the rich men. Never knew you were a Gold Digger," the older youth said with a mocking smirk.
"Oh fuck you, Uchiha."
"…How hard?"
Naruto turned to face him sharply with a deep blush on his face, in complete in utter shock to his very, very deepest core of his soul. Sure Sasuke had the backbone to pick at people till they either crumbled, or snapped, but either way, nothing…nothing like that. The Uchihas were simply polite. Not suggestive in any way, shape, or form.
Wait.
Scratch that.
They probably weren't anymore, at all, if yesterday was anything to go by. Sasuke wouldn't rape someone if given the chance in a dark, empty alleyway, would he?
He narrowed his cerulean blue eyes on the suspect. Naruto was going to have to keep a better eye on that.
"Leaving now," Sasuke finished abruptly, having been examined long enough. "Are you going to help me or not? I'll reduce your pay if you don't."
"Psh. Bastard." He followed anyway.
"DEATH."
Several heads craned up at the sound of the voice of…someone. It was a very upset, a very angry voice. Even if you didn't know the English language, or the British accent, you could clearly tell by the tone of the late teenage voice that they were aggravated over something or another. If someone said death aloud in a very peaceful environment, you'd say the same thing, probably.
Kiba dropped the box onto his toe by accident, howled and pain, and kicked it off his foot out of reflex. It went barreling into the wall.
"Kiba! Watch it! You could've hit someone!"
"I wish," was his negative retort.
"What is with you?" Naruto questioned under his breath, carrying two boxes in his arms through the doorway of the second floor.
He remained silent.
"Oh, hey Kiba, I found your old music. The ones you wrote, remember? For that play way back when? I think it's been a few years. You should play a bit of it later," Sasuke commented after Kiba regained an ounce of composure.
The brunette grumbled under his breath.
Meanwhile, Naruto was killing himself wondering why everyone had gone haywire and off the deep end this morning. Floods of new guests, a horny Sasuke, an incensed Kiba, and pointless work.
Then he noticed something. Turning to Sasuke, the blonde asked, "Why are we unpacking all this crap? It's a waste of time."
"Not if we are going to at least entertain our guests during their stay here."
"WHAT?"
He sighed quite audibly. "Isn't this place meant for that? Performances?"
"Yeah, but… I wasn't expecting one till next season!"
"I wasn't expecting French people to show up."
Naruto muttered something under his breath and turned away, hastily setting the boxes down off to the side of where the other ones had been set, downstairs and behind the closed curtains.
"What kind of performance where you planning on having?"
The Uchiha shrugged in response, placing his own boxes beside Naruto's. "Something different. Something we know, but haven't done in a while."
"Thank god for easy theatre skills."
Sasuke smiled ever so slightly, then faced the right exit as Kiba walked in, balancing three boxes in his arms. "Fuckfuckfuck," the brunette hissed colorfully, dropping the boring brown squares clumsily onto the ground.
Groaning, Sasuke slapped a hand to his forehead, and Naruto just laughed.
"He's PMSing."
Naruto silently agreed, with a tilted grin on his face.
The redhead, tired, and just spent out on walking through hallway, after hallway, after hallway, opened the door to Ino and Sakura's restaurant. He nearly collapsed onto the bar table, his forehead banging against the marble interior of it, making a dull ache add onto the painful throbbing already breeding under his skull.
"Tough day? You're acting like it's July. Business can't be that bad," Ino greeted, walking over and setting a washcloth behind the counter and wiping her forehead clear of sweat with the back of her hand.
"You haven't…seen 'them'…yet… My god… I'm having to learn…basic French…now, too…"
The blonde-haired girl raised an eyebrow. "Well they haven't hit us yet. You poor, poor soul," she said with clear empathy. Sure they hated each other, and shot insults back and forth all the time, but when it came to tourists, they were the best of allies.
"Please…?"
She knew what he was asking. Practically all of her other customers who would've shot the gun if it was in their hand said the same exact thing. Still, Ino hesitated. "You're only seventeen, Gaara."
"Inoooo…" he dragged out pleadingly. "So? I'll be eighteen soon… Please?"
Mentally sighed and slamming her head against a random wall, Ino retreated over to the left a ways, and got the badly craved liquid.
"Thank you so, so, so, SO much. I'll pay double for each…one…" Gaara said through a gulp of the burning drink.
"You're having more than one? I didn't agree to that!" she said hotly, not believing her ears. Ino was NOT going to be at fault for another drunken bastard staggering out of her restaurant and being fifty-six percent more vulnerable to car crashes while making his way across the street without so much as looking.
"Hey, hey… I'm the one paying. Besides… I'm not drunk yet, am I? Huh?" he said, already talking way out of character.
The blonde sighed aloud this time, annoyed, before setting her elbows on the counter near him, and watching Gaara chug the alcohol until the glass was bare empty. Wide, begging green eyes met her tiredly narrowed blue ones, and she groaned loudly.
"Oh what the fuck. It's not my fault, right?" Ino persuaded herself, going to refill the clear glass with the amber liquid.
"Yes," Gaara muttered, doing anything to just get that glass back in his hands, full again.
Damned Sakura for not being on shift. Damn her to hell. She might've been able to say no.
Kankuro opened the door to the little pub across the street, dodging another onslaught of rain that had begun to trickle pass thick, gray clouds. At first he didn't notice his brother practically sleeping with his forehead pressed against an empty glass of alcohol, but when he heard the female start muttering curses with the name Gaara hastily thrown in, he looked around widely.
"Myfaultmyfaultallmyfuckingfuckingfault! DammitdammitdammitIno!" the pretty blonde girl behind the counter said, pacing with a twisted frown marring her pale lips. "What the hell am I going to do? We're closing in a few minutes!"
At that precise moment she noticed the brunette standing just by the door, and gasped. "You! Are you staying in the theatre just across the street?" She sounded desperate. Kankuro didn't know what to say.
"Uh…w-well…y-yeah, I guess you could say tha—"
"THANK THE GODS ABOVE. PLEASE do me a favor and take Gaara back to his room!"
"I d-don't know w-where he—"
"Fifth floor, third window on the right," she cut in.
"How do you… how do you know that?"
She sighed, shoulders slumping as she cast an almost found look over at the redhead. "He's always sitting on his windowsill when I close up the shop. He's… He looks sad. I think he might just be daydreaming…reminiscing, I really don't know. Perhaps just thinking. But I always wish that I could know what is going through his head. I want to know…but I doubt I'll ever get that deep into his soul. There's a lock on it. I don't know how to open it," she said in a soft voice.
"You…"
"No, no, no. I… I just feel bad for him. Whatever… Whatever happened to him before he came here really…damaged him, that's all. That's what I believe."
Kankuro flinched, but the girl didn't seem to notice. She continued on.
"I'm Ino Yamanaka, by the way. Drop by whenever you want. And if you can't find his room, stop by the front desk and ask TenTen. She's a good friend of mine; she'll know." Ino gave him an extremely thankful smile, before returning hurrying to the other side of the bar table, and to Gaara's side. She motioned Kankuro over.
"Put his arm over your shoulder," she instructed, "like this. Then lift him up and help him cross the street. He may wake up before you get there, but he won't talk or do anything. Just stare dumbly," Ino finished.
"You've done this before?"
She gave a little smile. "Yeah."
Without another word, Kankuro hoisted his brother up and left the restaurant. It was pretty difficult getting him across the street and to the double doors of the theatre, but Kankuro managed. He paused by the front desk.
The girl TenTen seemed to know exactly what the problem was, giving Kankuro the room number, and a spare key for the door. Kankuro pocketed it and headed over to the elevator. Sometimes he didn't understand why Gaara and everyone else that lived and worked here didn't take the elevator unless it was absolutely necessary. They used the stairs. It was probably because they needed to keep it clear for the guests. That was probably why Gaara and everyone else here were so lean.
Speaking of…
Flushing, Kankuro readjusted his brother draping on his shoulder, and reached the right floor. Thankful that no one occupied the hall, the lights dim, Kankuro watched the numbers until he came to Gaara's room. Taking out the key, he unlocked it, opening the door, stepping inside, and closing it behind him.
One thing he noticed was that the room was strangelyempty. Nothing seemed to occupy it. Kankuro would've been relieved had he even seen a picture of their mother on Gaara's dresser, but that was bare as well.
It saddened him.
Kankuro laid Gaara down onto his bed, and then pulled the blanket down and over the redhead's body. He thought maybe Gaara'd be cold, but he didn't seem to be.
About to leave the room again, a voice stopped him.
"O…open the…the window…p-please, brother…"
The brunette's eyes widened to the size of saucers, and he spun around.
Gaara remained motionless and asleep on his bed.
Kankuro let out a long sigh of relief. That was close. For some reason, he didn't want Gaara to know about him, Temari and Keir. He'd probably hate them into the deepest pits of hell.
Kankuro didn't want that one bit.
Walking over the wide window, he tugged it openwith a sharp intake of breath, and immediately a rush of icy wind swept in. Almost shutting it on instinct, Kankuro was stopped by the same small, tired voice.
"No…l-leave it open, please… I-I want it open…brother…"
Kankuro felt the tears at his eyes, yes, but he refused to let them fall. Instead, he left the room slowly and silently, shutting the door with a murmured, almost inaudible:
"I love you, Gaara."
The key remained in his pocket all the way back to his room.
Whoa, this chapter was long. Don't expect them all to be like this. I was hit by inspiration from an AMV of Kankuro and Gaara cowering in fear at a drunken Temari.
Reviews would be nice, loves.
