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Chapter 12: Emergency Exits for Angels Without Wings
Alternate Titles - Susurrus, or Skimmed
Disclaimer: Same as always.
Gaara rolled over, a sheet twisted around half his body. Sunlight cascaded through the window, alighting his arm and a small bit of his face, warmth coating him, almost like honey. He was in a state between dream and conciousness, flickering back and forth. Memory mixed with fantasy in his head, and he couldn't tell the difference between the two for a while, but there were constants, figures that had appeared on both sides. Finally, letting out a quiet groan, he opened his eyes, wincing against the morning light. Well, technically it was afternoon.
Gaara lay there for a while, trying to convince his eyes to stay open. Finally, he was able to sit, pressing a hand to his forehead. The feeling of a dream forgotten was evident, as he stumbled to his feet. Vaguely he wanted to remember it, but couldn't quite concentrate, as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head and headed into the hall. Ignored were the snores coming from the bed across the room.
Fifteen minutes later, showered and now aware, he made his way into the kitchen, hair going in all different directions, as he had only bothered to towel it. He found Temari in the kitchen, doing up her running shoes.
"Morning," she greeted him, stretching a little. He gave her a slight nod, shuffling through the cupboards. His eye caught the clock on the microwave, eyes widening. 12:32 already?
"I'm going for a run," she informed him, "Kankurou's still asleep, and I really doubt he'll wake up for another hour. I swear, that guy could sleep all weekend if he didn't need to eat."
Gaara poured himself a bowl of cereal, agreeing to himself. Temari strutted over, grabbing her water bottle off the counter.
"Oh, that's right, I never got a chance to ask you how the dance went." The ice clinked against the sides of the bottle as she took a drink. "Well?"
"Was fine."
"Who was your friend?" Temari pressed further.
Gaara swallowed a large spoonful of cereal, then responded, "Neji."
In romance stories, there is often a mention of how one says the name of a person they care for. And maybe this is a romance story, because the name had a taste in Gaara's mouth (and it wasn't just his Special K). How it came off his tongue, passing smoothly over his lips. It was pleasant.
"He seems alright." Temari leaned against the counter, her leave prolonged. "You guys doing anything tonight?"
He turned to stare at her, a little perplexed. She laughed in response.
"I mean for Hallowe'en, tonight. I guess you guys are a bit too old for trick or treating, eh?"
"We haven't… planned anything," Gaara answered her previous question. For a second, he had thought she meant… an obvious something else. A date. He knew people his age went on them, to the movies or where ever. But it did seem rather trivial, since relationships didn't last very long at that time of your life, and almost always ended in a blown out of proportion fight. Was the pain really worth it?
"Later, I'm going to go into town later this afternoon, to rent us some horror movies," she said, heading for the door. "We can have a marathon, you, Kankurou and I. Oh, Neji can come too, if you want."
Gaara nodded, watching her head out the door in light jog, golden pig-tails bouncing up and down with her stride. The snow from the night before had melted, but on the grass still was frost.
No matter how many times spring comes, and all of it melts away, it will always come back in autumn, with the banishing of the warmth.
o
Saturdays are ever so strange. No matter how little time you spend doing something, they seem to speed past you. So Gaara found, walking along the street on the way to the park. He stared at the rough concrete as it passed under him, but his thoughts were far from there. Just a small time earlier, he'd finished the book of poetry, lines re-reading themselves aloud in his head. Certain things stuck out, much he did not quite grasp.
But some of it was almost familiar.
Grey clouds drifted slowly through the sky, as Gaara walked down the street. The porches were illuminated with jack-o'-lanterns as well as normal lights, decorated in a manner that might prove scary to a five year old. It was a little after 4:30, and the round orange sun had not nearly set, though a faint shadow of the yellowed moon could be seen if you searched the sky. The air seemed alive. No, that is not the word to use, for it was filled with the spirits of the dead. The streets were still, save a few cars that had driven past, and few people Gaara had seen, heading out to parties, or back home for the night.
The playground approached, leaves piled at the bottom of the slide, raked into a pile by children earlier that afternoon to jump into. Gaara's eyes found a familiar person, and he heard himself call out.
"Neji!"
The dark-haired boy turned back, his expression changing minutely as he saw Gaara, though still rather melancholy.
"Hey!" he yelled in greeting, nodding. Gaara picked up his pace, and Neji waited, kicking at the dried leaves on the ground. They crackled at the touch, shuffling against one another.
"What are you doing out?" Neji asked quietly, and Gaara caught the sadness he was trying to hide in the taller boy's face.
"Just walking." He gave an exaggerated look at Neji's bag. "You?"
"I was heading to the graveyard." Neji motioned to the pathway through the forest that ran behind the houses. "This is a short cut."
"Graveyard?"
"Don't worry, I'm not in a cult or anything," Neji explained, gesturing to his all-black attire, though not what you could call Gothic. "It's Samhain today. Some religions say that the veil between this world and the next is thinnest tonight. I'm not sure if I believe it but… I have some respects to pay."
"I see." Gaara watched Neji's far-away expression, unsure whether he should ask further, or continue where they had left off the night before.
"You can come," Neji spoke up, "I won't be all that long and… we can talk after."
He gave Gaara a reassuring, but horribley pained smile, and they began down the path, the leaves above them shimmering aurin and marigold, hints of bloody red; as if stained glass. A tinted warping of truth.
o
Supermarkets always have a smell. It comes with the atmosphere, slightly chilling, causing goosebumps to ripple up and down your arms. The icy metal of your grocery cart. Truly, it seemed to be the scent of cold vegetables, lined up along the wall. Pale flourescent light covered them, small drops of water still on the quivering leaves, as if they had been sweating. No matter where you were in the store, the smell was present, even if you were in some other unrelated section. Which in Temari's case, was an aisle filled mostly with Hallowe'en treats of all assortment. The amount of chocolate there was almost sickening.
Eyes scanning the price tags, she reached up to a bag, her hand colliding with that of someone else's. Looking to her left, she raised an eyebrow in greeting.
"Hi, Shikamaru," she said with a hint of a threat in her voice, snatching the bag, and dropping it into her cart with a competitive look. He sighed, and took the bag next to it.
"Hey, Temari." he sighed, looking rather exhausted.
"You look kinda dead," she commented, placing one hand on her hip.
"Thank you," he rolled his eyes. "Hallowe'en is such a bothersome holiday."
"Oh?"
He motioned to the treats in his basket. "My mother is making me do the shopping. But really, it's quite pointless. I have to stand by my door and hand out this crap to kids in costume all night. For free."
Temari held back a laugh. "Well, I guess your night will suck."
"You're so blunt," Shikamaru snorted.
"So? You're lazy," she retorted. "And weird."
"Weird as opposed to being normal?" he questioned.
"Well, no," Temari mused, leaning against the handle bars of her cart, "Just weird."
Shikamaru gave her a look, as she pulled a crinkled piece of paper from her pocket, and went over the list twice, making sure she had everything. It wasn't much, just some chocolate, some chips, and some soda.
"Well, I'm done here," she said, stuffing the list back into her pocket and facing Shikamaru.
"Same," he commented, begginning towards the check out. She walked along side him, the wheels of the cart squeaking every few moments as they completed another turn. Much to both teen's annoyment, there were rather long lines of people who also had stumbled across the brilliant idea of last minute shopping. Temari settled into the one closest to her, and Shikamaru followed, eyes flitting over the magazines set above the gum.
"Don't be a pervert," she snapped, glancing at the not-so-child-appropriate covers. It seemed you could get away with anything these days, the girl on the ciover of Cosmopolitan wearing not much more than a bikini, not to mention the 'How to achieve a better orgasm' plastered in neon orange letters over the cover.
Blushing a little Shikamaru jerked his head away. "I wasn't leering, I was browsing."
"Five seconds is browsing. Any longer is leering."
"It hadn't been five seconds!" he protested.
"I guess I stopped you just in time then," Temari said snarkily. "It's disgusting, really, what's been done to the image of women in the media."
"True. But it's not like you can do much about it." Shikamaru rested back against the magazine stand, oblivious to Temari's growing wrath.
"That's just the sort of attitude that makes things worse!" the blonde girl yelled, clenching her fists. "Just leaving something and hoping it will go away won't make it any better, in fact, it'll just get worse! It's still there whether you want it to be or not, and it will grow unless you do something about it! Sitting back on your ass and doing nothing is probably the worst approach; it's like waiting for a damn apocalypse!"
Shikamaru pointed at her, eyes half-opened, and she shut her mouth, still fuming.
"Sometimes," he told her, "Blindly taking action can have even worse consequence than can ignoring the problem. Besides, life is for living; we should make the best of it."
Temari pursed her lips, attempting to control her temper. She piled her few items onto the counter, and an elderly woman began ringing them through. She glanced from Shikamaru to Temari with a goofy smile, and the tension between them was distracted.
"You two spending your Hallowe'en together then?" she asked cheerily, "My Johnny and I, we used to get so loaded on chocolate. What is it you youngsters do these days for kicks anyways? Oh, that's $11.49, dear."
Temari handed the woman a ten and some change, her eyes open in confusion. "Excuse me? What was it you said first?"
"Hm?" The woman handed a few coins back to Temari. "I was talking about you two lovebirds-"
"Hold on a second!" Temari interjected, and Shikamaru gave a perterbed nod.
"We aren't like, a couple or anything!" the blonde continued, flustered, "I just met him over a week ago!"
"Oh really?" the cashier chuckled, "My mistake, sorry. But if you don't mind me saying, you two would look quite cute together!"
"I think I do mind," Shikamaru muttered, putting his few items onto the counter. Temari took her bags, sliding them down to her elbows so she could shove the receipt and coins into her purse. She sucked in breath as this required some use of her left hand, the cut on it covered in an itchy scab, but still painful. The stitches had been taken out a few days before, and it would still be a few weks before it was fully healed.
"It's almost funny," she commented as Shikamaru finished, the old cashier waving them off. "The same thing kind of happened to my brother and I this morning."
"Someone thought you were with your brother?"
"No," Temari scoffed, "I asked him if he and his friend had any plans for tonight, and it sorta sounded like-"
"You were asking if they had a date?" Shikamaru finished, and Temari nodded. "Actually, that is funny. I would've liked to have seen Gaara's face."
The automatic doors opened with an electric hum, cold air sweeping over the two. A car raced past, and a group of college-aged teens walked by, laughing for no apparent reason.
"I'm off to the movie place," Temari mentioned. "Know any good horror flicks?"
"I'm not too big a fan," he told her, shrugging, "It's mostly crap these days. The Exorcist, though, that's a classic."
"So I've heard." She brushed back some loose strands that had blown into her face, zipping up her jacket. "Well, see you later, I guess."
"Yeah," Shikamaru nodded. "I should get home before my mom decides to come kick my ass for stalling."
Temari gave a short laugh, waving a little as she began on her way. The clouds on the horizon behind her moved swiftly through the sky, their brightness turning her into a silhouette as she walked off.
o
The graveyard was surrounded by an onyx fence, the bars not all that thick, but sturdy. The gate had elaborate designs etched into it, though there was no lock, so the public was free to come and go as they pleased. Still, it almost seemed like the windows of a jail, one designed to keep the dead in the ground, where they can't interfere with the living. The pain is enough; those who have lost do not need constant reminders coming back to further destroy them. The past is the past, and what happens happens. Still, sometimes things slip through the bars, and drift harmlessly through the air until they find you; be they dead or not.
Gaara ran his finger along the top of the fence, waiting on the inside of the gate. He didn't feel alone in the least, but it wasn't threatening, the feeling, as if zombies were about to jump out of the ground and strangle him. Just that something else was there. Neji had gone up the path, and he was barely visible to Gaara, half blocked out by the full branches of one of the trees playing guardian.
The redhead let his mind wander, fingernails peeling at the chipped paint on the gate. A little anxious, he took to trying to clear his head, but as the seconds danced themselves away, so quickly it was hard to be sure they were there. But aren't seconds just a way of measuring time? Time itself is one endless mass. Or perhaps it's not endless, but no one actually knows. Maybe no one is supposed to know.
Gaara felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see Neji, standing with his hands in his pockets. Around his eyes were obvious red circles, streaking down his face.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting," he said quietly, turning his face away. "We can go now."
He passed Gaara, heading though the gate. Gaara followed him quickly, concerned.
"Are you alright?"
"Don't worry about me," Neji said, though his voice sounded pressed. Gaara couldn't take the secrecy any longer, catching Neji's shoulder with one of his hands. Neji paused, but stopped altogether when he felt Gaara pull him back, the shorter boy's arms wrapping around him. Gaara clasped his hands around Neji's midsection, resting his forehead against the back of Neji's neck, covered in fine dark tresses. Neji winced, but didn't have the heart to struggle.
"Neji," the redhead mumbled, "I trust you. And… you helped me. Now I want to help you. To have you trust me. Please, stop hiding whatever this is from me."
Neji stayed quiet a few moments, feeling Gaara's warmth near, next to him. Tears pushed there ways to the edge of his eyes, so he squeezed them shut, though some still leaked through the dark lashes. He swallowed, feeling Gaara's chest rise in breath against him. They were just outside of the gate, which creaked slightly in the wind, shutting itself.
"A-alright," Neji stuttered, adjusting his grop on the backpack he held in one hand.
"Does this," Gaara asked quietly, "Have anything to do with what happened Friday?"
"Sort of. Not really," Neji tried to explain. "Well, I guess it does. Can we… let's go to the playground."
Gaara took a deep breath, reluctantly disconnecting his hands so that Neji wasn't pressed so tightly to him. They walked close together, the space between them begging to stop existing. They quickly came across the path trough the forest, the fading light casting spotty shadows over them, the leaves singing, welcoming them once again. Neji glared at the earth, trying to work out ewxcatly what would be said. There were a few empty and old looking benches by the playground, they settled on one. Gaara placed one hand over Neji's resting on the wood between them, and waited for the boy to begin. And after a minute or so, Neji looked up, and words found their way to his mouth.
"I guess you…" he started, "You already know that I live with my uncle, and my cousins."
Gaara nodded, pained. It was strange to him. How seeing Neji's face, and knowing that Neji was hiding it from him hurt him. Inside, it burned him. Before they started being friends, they'd known eachother existed, but somehow they'd picked up up, and found it to be something more than just meeting eyes every now and then.
"My father," Neji continued, bitterly, "Died because of them. Nine years. It was about nine years ago. We always mourn on the date, but… I guess I thought… maybe today, he would be a little closer to me."
His milky eyes wandered over the empty jungle gym, brightly painted metal. Some child had put stickers on the swing set, and the few left on sparkled dimly. Since it was without children, it was a little eerie. Just a little. Neji gave up on distracting himself, and went on.
"My uncle, Hiashi, and my father, were twins. But, as destiny would have it, my uncle was older, by just a few minutes. So the family company was passed down to him. He was the President, the one who got the credit. My father worked hard, but stayed at Vice President. I never remember him being bitter about itm though. He took it as it was." Neji bowed his head, eyebrows furrowing. "Hinata and I were raised from an earely age to be smart; to be able to take over the company. Someday, she'll be the President. Because she is my uncle's daughter. Not because she earned it. But because that's the way destiny made things."
"Some activists were angry with the company. Hiashi tried reasoning with them, and they seemed to come to a truce. But instead, their representative decided to kidnap my dear cousin. He was killed, though, before he could get away, and precious Hinata was saved. But this just made the group angrier than before. It was dangerous; they had guns, and were threatening us with terrorism. Nonetheless, my father was sent to go in Hiashi's place and speak with them. To speak with them."
More tears fell from Neji's face, splashing onto the ground, and onto the bench. Gaara held his hand only tighter, moving in a little closer.
"They fucking killed my father. They thought he was Hiashi, and they fucking killed him! They knew how dangerous it was, but they sent him anyways!"
Neji broke into a sob, leaning forward to Gaara. He rested his temple on Gaara's shoulder, squeezing Gaara's hand back. The knowing that his friend was there anchored him, gave him a little more sanity. He felt bad for his tears, but couldn't help them.
"I-I've been trying," Neji continued in broken speech, "To become enough that my family… might acknowledge it. But there's really no p-point, is there? Things will stay the way they are; I can't change destiny. I can't change things like that!"
Gaara felt the material of his sleeve become wet with the brackish liquid, and reached his other hand over to brush Neji's hair from his face so it didn't become soaked. To try and wipe some of the tears away. He used his thumb, gently running it over Neji's cheek. The tears were warm, bitter. The emotion was so strong…
"It got worse," Neji mumbled, letting Gaara continue to dry his tears, "As time went by, it only got worse inside of me. I tried harder, but it never quite meant anything. My photographs; they mean something to me and you mean something to me, Gaara, but that's it. Before now, there was nothing, and sometimes I would just hate myself. I wanted out, away, and I knew it was impossible, but I wanted just some way to escape destiny so badly, even for a little bit!"
He bit his lip, tasting a little bit of blood.
"Please don't hate me, Gaara. Please don't hate me."
"Why would I hate you?" the redhead asked, wrapping the hand previously drying tears around Neji's neck, but the brunette pulled away a little, reaching for his bag. After rifling through it, he winced deeply, then produced a plastic bag filled with fine white powder.
"This would be how it connects to Friday. I bought this then, didn't use it yet," Neji explained quietly, quickly shoving the powder back into his bag. "I'm pathetic."
"You're not…" Gaara whispered, bringing Neji closer. The white-eyed boy put up no struggle, leaning against Gaara.
"I'm not some addict," Neji managed. "It's just the herion. It was pot first. I tried acid this summer, just once, but I had a bad trip. I don't want that again. And it's not everyday, not even once a week. Just sometimes, I'll need it. But things are getting better, they really are, but I guess… maybe I'm in a little deep."
"Neji…"
Again, Gaara found him self embracing Neji, he himself on the vege of tears. It hurt to see Neji hurting. And how could he hate Neji at all? Gaara had hated his father, and had greatly disliked other people, but Neji was so unlike them. Neji was… He wasn't sure what Neji was, but it was different, and he liked it.
"I don't hate you," Gaara murmured to him, "I don't hate you."
He held him a while longer, until Neji's weeping had subsided, and he sat upright, Gaara's hand still over his like a protective blanket. Side by side they were for a while, and neither spoke, the smell of autumn dancing around them. Dusk was theatening to come soon, and children would be out and about in masquerade.
"I'm sorry," came Neji's susurration, but Gaara shook his head.
"I wanted to know. To help, if I can."
"You've done more than enough…" Neji told him, rubbing a little at his face.
"But I… I don't want you to be hurting yourself…" Gaara continued, "I'll help you with that. I don't want you to hurt. I… care about you…"
"Thank you," Neji said, feeling his hand tingle where Gaara's still rested over it. "Things where I live are really tough these days and… Thank you."
Both had the feeling they'd only touched the surface; the tip of the iceberg, if you will. And the icy water was just waiting, inviting them to take the plunge. Another deafness came, wherein they both took time to settle into the knowing, and how close they had been.
"Are you doing anything tonight?" Gaara asked suddenly, the words a little rushed. "If you're not, you could come to my house. We're just watching movies, and… sorry. You probably don't want to come. Not tonight."
"Actually," the brunette said, "I would. Would your caretaker mind?"
"She's out of town for a while, but Temari already told me you, or someone, could come." Gaara answered.
Neji slung his bag over his shoulder. He felt a little dazed, but better. It had all come out, and Gaara was still there. He had someone. Ignoring thoughts of his previous escape plans of that night, he began wading with Gaara through the leaves. The rest of it; what happened with his father, all that, couldn't so easily fade. But the past was the past. He wasn't about to forget, but…
"So," he asked quietly, "Any progress on the quest?"
Gaara looked puzzled a second, then gave a little bit of a smile. "Actually, yes. There has been."
End of Chapter 12