"Agh! Come on, come on, come on..."

" Did you press the button?"

" Of course, I pressed the button. What do I look like, some kind of idiot?"

"..."

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"Agh! Come on, come on, come on..."

Naruto was certain, completely sure, without a doubt positive that the elevator had been stuck on the seventh floor for at least fifteen minutes. Carrying four heavy boxes with embarrassingly accurate labels (NARUTO'S DIRTY MAGAZINES–Courtesy of Jiraiya), the blond's arms had a sheen of sweat running down them. Naruto couldn't decide what was more annoying: waiting for a possibly fictional elevator while carrying twice one's own weight or having Jiraiya as commentator. Glancing to his left at the empty-handed old pervert, Naruto figured waiting for the elevator wasn't so bad.

Turning his eyes back toward the elevator, a flame caught the corner of his eye. Steadily staring at the lift doors with an empty turquoise gaze, a slim boy shielded in black slumped to Naruto's right. The youth's arms were empty. Considering the overwhelming number of bags and boxes littering the arms of other freshmen, this fact would have made the boy stand out. Let alone the bloody hair, sky eyes, and kanji tattoo on his forehead.

Suddenly, Naruto realized that he had been staring at the boy. His deep tan turned a few shades darker as his gaze riveted itself back on the elevator. My, what interesting graffiti, the blond's face seemed to say.

"My, what interesting graffiti. Kid, give me some paper, quick!"

"Does it look like I have any paper with me, or if I had some that I could hand it to you?"

"Well, you are carrying a whole box full of magazines that have been used for God know's what. That could almost be paper. Just let me open it and..."

"Don't you dare!"

"Aww...is the little fox-face embarassed?"

"What the hell do you want the paper for anyway, Ero-sennin?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Too many. What do you want paper for?"

"Yugao wants to give me a good time. All I have to do is call the number on the elevator. Seems like a fair enough deal to me. I just need paper to write the number on...Now."

As the elevator door opened, the redhead fled to the back corner, keeping himself separate from anyone and anything else entering the elevator. The blond threw himself and the boxes into the elevator, propping his "happy books" on an armrest surrounding three sides of the lift. As the elevator doors creaked closed with Jiraiya facing Naruto from the ground floor, the blond got in the last words.

"Just memorize the number, dobe."

Effectively disabled through cardboard entrapment, Naruto asked the redhead, "Oi, Would you mind pushing the button for the 8th floor?" With a charcoal-rimmed stare, the redhead took in what the blond had asked and pushed the button and no other. Apparently, Naruto figured, they lived on the same floor. With a grin, the blond filled with satisfaction.

First day and already, I am getting to meet new people. This is a new world. No more getting into stupid fights. No more double-checking all of the door locks. No more wondering where my father's...No more fear.

By this time, the grin had drifted downward. Thinking of his father's death was the perfect recipe for melancholy. But, not this time, Naruto was determined to start his life over, and with this new life came happiness. He was just sure of it. With that burst of fresh resolve, the blond gave the impression that if he hadn't been holding a tower of pornography, he would have leapt, fist in the air with grin so bright and exaggerated that it belonged to a caricature, not a human being. However, with one look at his redheaded, elevator-sharing, same floor-living companion, Naruto decided it was probably a good idea that he couldn't act on that particular impulse.

The slim redhead was gazing at the elevator doors, just as he had been in the lobby. From what Naruto could tell, he made no noise. The boy didn't shuffle his feet, fidget, mess with his hair, try to strike up a conversation. Even his breathing was inaudible.

Quiet and Naruto didn't mix very well.

Never had Naruto felt so awkward being in a room alone with somebody. Well, peering from side to side with slitted eyes, maybe not a room. A box, I have never felt so awkward being in a box alone with somebody

Ten years later, the elevator reached the eighth floor, and the two boys got off and faced a hallway of doors. Each door had two name plates and two names. Presumably, you found your name, and there was your room. The boys went off in opposite directions. After a few minutes of awkwardly searching over the tower of boxes for his name, Naruto had nearly come full circle (or full square, because that's how the hallways were really shaped) and was nearing the elevator again, from the opposite direction. Walking past one more door, the blond caught a glimpse of an UZUMAKI N. and dropped all of the boxes with a thump when he saw what lay underneath.

UCHIHA S.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Gaara slumped against the closed dorm door, as if barricading it with his body. Cold sweat had broken out on his forehead from nerves, and he knew that his body wasn't shaking from exhaustion. The faint musk of disuse and teenage boy wafted throughout the dorm room.

Someone talked to me.

The blond had even smiled at him. Trying to remember, Gaara could not think of the last time that someone had spoken to him, unless they were forced to (teacher) or so they could humiliate him (everyone else).

Someone talked to me...

...and I didn't say anything back in return.

At this point, a normal person would have smacked themselves in the forehead, and said something along the lines of, "God, I'm such an idiot." Or maybe, "How could I be so stupid?" Even though he wasn't exactly the picture of conformity, Gaara was a relatively normal teenage boy, all things considered.

"God, I am such an idiot," the slim redhead muttered, wishing he could smack himself in the forehead.

I can't believe I didn't say anything, or even try to smile back at him. He must think I' m insane, like that creepy quiet kid who ate too much paste in elementary school. He is going to see that his dorm room is next to mine and ask to have it switched. He is going to hate me, know that I must be twisted inside. And he would be right, just like everyone else was right.

Hands twine in hair. Vise encircles slender chest. Panic ensues.

Just like everyone else. Just like everyone else. Just like every...

Interruption.

"Yosh! This room is perfect for flowering youth, such as me! I can't wait to...Ai! I'm so sorry! I did not mean to knock you over when I kicked the door open so wonderfully, beautiful roommate of mine! I was just very excited that I was able to carry ten boxes up here with such swiftness! Here, I will help you up!"

Puts boxes down. Panic attack completely dissolved bydisruption. All Gaara could think was, he talks in exclamation points.

"Lee-kun, what did you do to your roommate, already? You could have taken the elevator, you know. Running up eight flights of stairs with nine boxes is insane."

"I am so very sorry, Sakura-chan. I was so very happy to be at college that I accidently pushed my poor roommate over. Though, I managed to carry up ten boxes, not nine. And I can't use the elevator you know that." Giving the slim redhead a knowing look, the eye-browed youth mouthed the word TRAINING. All Gaara could think now was, No more exclamation points, and how can somebody mouth something in capital letters

With a sigh and a smile, the pink-haired girl leaned on Gaara's roommate. Gaara's mind began to run rampant with cliches. One in particular stood out, "He may be an idiot, but he's my idiot."

Thoughts interrupted, yet again. Gaara looked down to see the boy's outstretched hand. He had never been offered one of those before. But, Gaara knew what you did with it.

Shaking Gaara's hand as if planning on taking it home as a souvenir, the eye-browed youth introduced himself, "Greetings, lovely roommate. I am Rock Lee, and we will be spending four glorious years together. I am so excited I could just...Yosh!" The poor pink-haired girl watched as Lee leapt, fist in the air with grin so bright and exaggerated that it belonged to a caricature, not a human being. Apparently, not everyone going to the University of Konoha could control their impulses.

Taking in his roommate's appearance, Gaara was amazed by a riot of conflicting colors. As an artist, the green spandex workout shirt combined with too tight blue jeans and an orange belt struck his eyes with a vengeance, a roundhouse kick to the senses. The glistening black bowl-cut, youthful Lee wore, just grazed the top of the largest eyebrows Gaara had ever seen up close. Huge brown-black eyes unprotected by eyelashes seemed glazed over, blank. However, on second glance, Gaara saw something in them, something he couldn't recognize.

Pushed out of his reveries as forcefully as Lee had pushed him to the ground, the slim redhead realized that he was shaking someone else's hand. Well, more correctly, he was having his hand shaken by someone else now.

"Haruno Sakura, freshmen, Pre-Med and a martial arts minor that the dope over there convinced me to take," the pink-haired girl said with a fierce grin. Clothed in a dark crimson button-up, extending past her upper thighs (long enough to be a man's dress shirt, thought Gaara, but definitely not his, with a glance at Lee), black dress pants closely fit to her slim thighs. Leather low cut black boots were hidden beneath the cuffs. Gaara's eye was pleased to see the outfit finished with a few black or red necklaces and a ring or two.

"But, Sakura-chan, you already started training before college, and if you continue it, then I don't have to worry if you need to walk alone on campus at night."

"You will, anyways."

"No, I won't. I promise."

Pointless arguing continues for an indeterminate space of time, roughly equivalent to the amount of time it takes any two infatuated teenagers to decide who is prettier or who loves who more, when hanging up the phone.

Gaara could tell he was hearing an argument that had been repeated many times. Luckily, this time, Sakura had a way to end it.

"I'm sorry, we still haven't found out your name."

Nervously clearing his throat, Gaara spoke for the first time, "My name is Gaara Kage. My major is Art, and I am minoring in Theater. It is...um...it's um...nice, nice to meet you both." He stuttered out the last few words.

With an odd look involving narrowed eyes and a wrinkled brow (if Gaara had ever been looked at with good intentions, then he would've known that this one was concern), Sakura peered at the slim redhead.

"Lee-kun, don't you have another trip to make?"

"Oi!" smacks himself in the forehead, "I nearly forgot in the excitement of meeting my most wonderful roommate, Gaara."

"I'll stay up here and start putting your stuff away," stopping Lee's protests with one hand. Sakura reasoned, "You carried all of my stuff to the 9th floor. It is the very least that I could do."

Pecking her sweetly on the cheek, Lee smiled quietly (!), "Thank you very much, Sakura-chan." Then, he bolted out the door.

Both Gaara and Sakura stared at the door after him, one bewildered, one bemused. Turning back to the redhead staring with a ghost's face, Sakura went from bemused to gently friendly.

"We've been dating for four months now," she offered, "So, you will probably have to put up with me quite a bit. Oh, and don't worry about having to deal with that idiot all of the time. I know some people think he can get a bit much. But he works out endlessly everyday, and I can drag him somewhere, if you ever want to be alone."

By this time, Gaara had eased on to his bed, and he slightly grimaced at her last few words. This was the kind of grimace that went unnoticed by everyone, particularly everyone in Gaara's past. But, it was one that couldn't sneak past a concerned Haruno.

"But I have to warn you, he will want to hang out with you all of the time, get to know everything about you, and will probably make you come out with us whenever we go do somewhere. I hope you don't mind. He has a weird or whould I say forceful way of showing affection."

"Speaking for myself, I can't wait to get to know you. I have always wanted to get into art, but being friends with someone who is an artist might be almost as good...and lazier, which is always better," Sakura claimed with a knowing grin.

"Plus, you seem like a great person, just from what I've seen. I mean, Naruto would've pounced on Lee for knocking him over. And, I shudder to think what Sasuke or Neji might have done."

She kept talking, but all Gaara could hear was one word.

Friends.

His whole body tingled as if there was too much feeling for it to contain, but not enough emotion to cry.

All I did was say my name.

"Yosh! Two trips and I have completed my goal! Youth wins again! See, Sakura, it is possible to get thirteen boxes up in one trip..."

Friends.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

With a look of defiance spread across aristocratic features, Neji glared at the university his uncle had chosen for him. Lilac eyes mixed with midnight hair and full lips made Neji the wet dream of every girl during high school (that wasn't already overdosing on Sasuke). A golden sheen altered his pale skin, the product of a year off in Europe. The only other souvenir Neji has taken home with him was a decision.

Past, everything was in the past now.

Well, everything except...

"So, honey, is this the hall we are going to be in?" asked an extremely petite girl with a sweet face and the least interesting personality of anyone Neji had ever met. At least, Ten-ten kept the fangirls off of his back, literally. She was tiny, but she could bite and kick with the best of them. Unfortunately, this protection forced Neji to actually spend time with her, his girlfriend.

"Yeah, this is it."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Jesus Christ, can't you boys do anything right? I said put the roses on the desk to the right and daisies near my bed. I swear, you must be deaf, as well as dumb," yelled a blond girl with blues eyes that should have been shooting lightening, thought Shikamaru. Black dreads tied back with a leather thong, left the youth's face free for survey. Permanently tanned, the boy had dark, bedroom eyes which seemed dull to the casual observer. But, a closer look showed that they brimmed with intelligence, nearly spilling over with excess IQ. High cheekbones scultped above a mouth fixed in constant distaste led one to wonder what it would be like if the teen ever chose to smile.

After this is finished, I can get my room ready, and classes start tomorrow. Triple major. Everyone thinks I'm insane, 'How could that lazy ass do one major, let alone three?' But, I finally get to do what I want. Go to classes when I want, learn about the things I like, find out why my chest hurts when I think about...

"Ugh, Chouji, you are dropping your end! For God's sake, is it that hard to move a bookcase?"

"Well, when it's full of books, it is," muttered a young boy, who made you think of Eskimos. Rounded body and face through genetics and a voracious appetite suited the boy. Rather than appearing fat, he looked generous. With curly chestnut hair, puppy eyes, and rosy cheeks, one would swear that they were looking at a young Santa Claus. Especially after they got to know the boy, for his nature was just as sweet as his tooth.

Ino, on the other hand...

"Do I have to do this myself, or are you boys going to..."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wow, Shino, Kiba, did you guys think it would be so big?"

"Of course, Hinata, I mean, who wouldn't?"

"Kiba, do not act as if you have greater intelligence, then you do. It misleads and could cause problems later."

"Don't worry about it, Shino. I don't think Kiba could mislead me into believing he knows everything. I don't think Kiba could mislead anyone of that...

...Oh, I'm sorry that was so mean."

"No, it wasn't. It was funny...and true."

"Arf."

"Kiba?"

"Yes, Shino."

"Is Akamaru in that bag with the holes in it that you have been carrying all day?"

"No."

"Arf."

"Yes."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Highlighted blue in the sun, black hair elegantly framed a pale teen's face. Delicate eyebrows rose in sardonic amusement over hidden caves, as a grin spread sarcastically. A tight, navy long-sleeved shirt was rolled at the sleeves. Black jeans clung to the boy's lean frame. If someone had been walking by, they would not have seen an 18 year old college freshman; they would have seen night.

"So, this is it."

Sasuke ambled to the entrance of Leaf Hall.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In an office of leather panelling and simple wood furnishings, one imagined catching a whiff of cigar smoke. It was stereotypical. It was dimly lit. It was the Dean's office (and was only dimly lit because the drapes were closed).

Heads from each department in the University sat encased in leather comfort before a mountainous desk. A desk, Sarutobi always swore he should replace. His predecessor was a bit pompous. Examining the wrinkles left by laughter, the glint of kindness in his eyes, and the calluses on his fingers, the Dean was definitely not.

"A new year is beginning at Konoha. Once again, we are being trusted by parents, the community, and the world that we will bring these children into adulthood, bring them with patience, open minds, and ambition. You are the teachers who will mold their minds, their bodies, and their personalities for the next four years. Do not manipulate. Do not prejudice. Do not harm. Lastly, do have a good time," said the Dean with a grin, tracing through a face as comfortable and leathery as the chairs in his office.

"Hatake Kakashi."

"Ebisu."

"Maito Gai."

"Gekkou Hayate."

"Shiranui Genma"

"Hagane Kotetsu."

"Godaime Tsunade."

"Umuino Iruka."

"Yuuhi Kurenai."

"Mitarashi Anko."

"Morino Ibiki."

"and finally, Sarutobi Asuma."

"Good Luck."