Notage for notable people:
HakuoBlake: You make me smile, so here's an update...and an imaginary cookie.
DarkRavie: You get a cookie, too. Just because.
LesAutresSontIdiots: Hrm, let's see if I can clear things up. Gaara finds out that Neji is actually friends with the people who tormented them at the play. Feels unloved, walks away only a little pissed until finding nosy Ino with his sketchbook. Neji wishes he didn't have to talk to Tayuya, Kidomaru, Jirobo, and the twins, because he doesn't really like them. Kido and Jiro are just on the soccer team with him.
And the twins have a strange fetish for Gaara and sadistic love of kicking puppies.
Hope that helps, and am glad you like the story. Can't wait for your thoughts on this chapter.
Me n' Gaaragoboink: Marry me...or, read this chapter and review some more, because you are amazing.
Love.
Oh, yes, and couple confusion. Umm, there are going to be a few strange triangles and whatnot in this story, and I don't really want to announce them ahead of time. But, let's just say that, RIGHT NOW, the only people who are actually together are Sakura and Lee, Asuma and Kurenai, and, kind of, Naruto and Hinata. Implied: GaaNaru, NejiGaa (so far...). And: implied unrequited love, poor poor Chouji.
Although, more were added this chapter...yikes.
BelovedShadowofLight: If you think Ino was a little fucked up last chapter...
Anyways, hehe, I love hearing all the bits you like and your thoughts, they just make my day. I don't know why, but they do. Can't wait for more.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. But, if I did...author leers, kind of creepily
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Oh, and if anyone doesn't get it, Anko and Ibiki are listening to a recording of Shikamaru's second session with Ibiki, like they did in a previous chapter.
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Steam drifted up from Ibiki's thick pewter coffee mug.
The part of the well-muscled, burn-scored man that was all too familiar with the ravages of war and the sudden need for a makeshift weapon was well aware of the fact that the hot, caffeinated beverage could easily cause second degree facial burns, while the bottom of the mug was heavy enough to break a man's nose.
But, the Great Wars had ended over two decades before, and such knowledge had outgrown its usefulness.
Ibiki, however, had not outgrown his.
Depression, identity crises, abusive homes, schizophrenia, obsessive compulsive disorder, ADD: those were the issues that occupied most of his mind, nowadays.
And the only thing he gained in this world of relative peace and prosperity from his hard-earned wisdom was that his coffee definitely needed a good blow before it would be ready to drink.
Common sense, really.
Click.
The audio recorder had come to a stop.
With an air of repressed frustration, the woman seated across from him bit down into a thickly buttered bagel. When she was approximately halfway done chewing, Anko broke the silence, "Two sessions and you haven't cured him yet, Ibiki. Losing our touch, are we?"
The sardonic grin she gave the man told him that she was merely teasing.
Reaching over to her 64oz soda, Anko lightly chastised her mentor, "And, did you have to piss the kid off like that? Nara's bad enough when he's just lazy and mildly annoyed. Now, you've got him hostile, too."
In an effort to hide his mildly amused smile, Ibiki raised the coffee mug up to his lips, blowing lightly upon it before taking a sip. Savoring the bitter, black taste, he answered, "Shikamaru had every right in the world to know that Asuma reports to me, concerning their meetings and conversations. Although, I'll admit, I was searching for some form of reaction."
Peering around for a wastebasket to throw her butter-drenched napkins in, Anko absentmindedly replied, "Well, you certainly got one, didn't you. And, what good did it do, huh?"
Striding across his pristine office with its framed diplomas, right angles, and hard leather chairs, Ibiki grabbed the trash can from behind his desk and held it out for his old patient, "It gave me a good idea of how emotionally stunted the boy actually is. "
Placing the wastepaper basket (now, half-filled) down next to his chair, Ibiki sat and with a little exhaustion in his voice, "I must admit, I am relieved that the boy felt betrayed by Asuma's lack of discretion. It shows some evidence for his ability to build bonds with other people. Further illustrated when I asked about his best friends."
Getting a little uncomfortable in the neat and tidy office, Anko fidgeted as she asked, "Yeah. He did not want to talk about them. So, last time you were concerned with his ability to care for other people, but now he's shown that he can and does. What else is wrong with him? Besides his tendency to act like a superior little shit, at times, of course."
Settling back in the old, creaking leather, Ibiki explained his thoughts, "I am relatively positive that the boy is having some form of identity crisis. Shikamaru seems to see the world moving around him, but is unable to become a part of it. The closest he ever comes is in the friendships he very rarely gets the energy to develop. In fact, one of the reasons Shikamaru's attachments to his best friends are so strong might be because they are the only real link he has to the world."
Running her callused fingers through mussed hair in frustration, "So, what are we going to do?"
Taking another drink of coffee, Ibiki continued, "We can't do much, if anything. That is still an unfortunate fact. In my opinion, the only thing that is going to shake him out of his tiny world and get him to start being a part of this one is experience. A real emotional, physical experience of some kind.
Distractedly rubbing the scars on his right hand, Ibiki admitted, "I can't deny that my antagonizing of Shikamaru today was, at least, slightly in the hopes that he might confront Asuma about it. Have a fight. Get that catharsis he needs. But, the boy was already calming down by the time he left my office. I doubt he even mentions this session to anyone. He'll just be more cautious about what he says from now on."
Looking directly into the man's eyes, Anko stated, point blank, "He's going to hate you before this is all over, you know."
Ibiki's eyes softened but his gaze was heavy with thought, "I know…If I remember correctly, you also grew to hate me during our sessions together. Just out of curiosity, do you still?"
Without answering his question, Anko got up and headed for the door, "I think it's time for me to go, Ibiki."
Glancing back at him as she walked out, the scarred man saw the truth in her eyes.
Yes, she still hated him. Probably always would.
But, she loved him, too.
And, the worst part was…
It was for the exact same reasons.
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Shikamaru, on the other hand, held absolutely no love for the large and formidable psychology director. Neither did he hate Ibiki, for hating implied a level of excitement that the apathetic brunette avoided reaching, at all costs.
Rather, he burned with a mild dislike for the man.
No, no, burning was too strong a word.
Shikamaru simmered with a mild dislike for the man.
At least our session didn't run long, I can still make breakfast, the brunette thought as he lazily made his way back to the dorms.
Sitting on the small railing outside the hall's door, Ino was her usual blonde, beautiful self (if a tad quieter than usual), while Chouji looked like he was about to fall asleep standing up.
Shouldn't have stayed over at Gaara and Lee's so late last night, if he's going to be all tired like that the next day.
Isn't healthy.
Both of Shikamaru's best friends cheerfully waved to him, as they noticed the brunette's approach.
Something weird is going on.
"Well, at least you actually showed up today, dumbass. Thanks for skipping out on us to go to some stupid advisor meeting yesterday morning," bitched Ino, although her words were lacking their usual forehead-creasing bite.
Nope. It's the same as every other day…
"I said I was sorry, ok? Can't we just be done with it? Mendoukusai."
Thankfully, Chouji stepped in before Ino lost her short temper with an unexpected confession, "I should probably apologize to you guys now, too. I can't stay for breakfast, this morning. I've got my meeting with Asuma today."
Both of the pleasantly plump young man's best friends looked at him, confusedly, but Ino was the one who asked the question, "So, why did you even bother coming-"
"Didn't want you to have to wait by yourself," Chouji explained quickly, beginning to walk off as he spoke, "See you later, guys."
"Later."
"Bye, have fun."
For a moment, Ino and Shikamaru sat in silence, both trying to muster up the energy to get up and go to breakfast.
When, all of a sudden, the blonde turned to the boy with a serious, almost distraught look, scrunching up her delicate features.
Oh no, something happened with Sasuke.
Damn it. That is the last thing I want to have to deal with right now.
Ha, what am I thinking? I never want to deal with it.
"Ne, Shikamaru?" Ino's voice was uncharacteristically solemn. Twisting to face her, the brunette was surprised by the redness around the girl's blue eyes and the subtle downturn to her small, pink mouth.
"Can I ask you a question?"
His brows touched in cautious confusion, "Yeah, I guess, go ahead."
"Am I pretty?" Crystal blue eyes stared directly into brown.
Oh, is that all.
"Of course, Ino," said Shikamaru with a sigh.
Anticipating the girl's frustration, knowing his answer was not enough to satisfy her, the brunette elaborated, "In my life, I have seen a little over 2,000 women. Personally, I know about thirty. And, I suppose, you're easily the most beautiful out of all the ones I've seen, at least," he ended with a shrug.
"So, I'm like Little Miss Perfect, then? Only as good as I look, but, you know, never thinking about anyone but myself?" The blonde girl inched closer to her best friend, eyes directed at her lap with real melancholy.
Where in the hell did this come from?
While the blonde may have been rude, bitchy, unrelenting, self-centered, and superficial at times, Shikamaru knew her better than anyone, besides maybe Sakura or Chouji. The slim young man had seen how much Ino cared about those she considered friends, and how, even though she might not act like it, the girl was a better than decent human being.
Most of the time.
Plus, she was one of his best friends. How else could he answer?
"Nope. Not at all like that. Think of all the times you've helped out me and Chouji," Ino looked up at him with eyes shining, and Shikamaru, absentmindedly continued, "It's even a little surprising that you're as-"
Wet.
Golden blond hair swirled over the tops of Shikamaru's shoulders.
What is she-
Thick eyelashes grazed his own.
Are we kissing?
Most of Shikamaru's mind rebelled at the thought. He cared for Ino as a friend, but that's where his feelings stopped. Unfortunately, the brunette was also an adolescent male experiencing his first real kiss. And, his slim, teenage body acted and reacted, instinctively.
It was the tightening of his pants that brought him back to reality and the situation at hand.
His best friend was kissing him, and it needed to stop.
Right Now.
"Whoa, wait, Ino," the tan boy desperately tried to extricate himself from the blonde, "What's going on?"
Her face less than three inches from his own, Ino did her best to whisper seductively but ended up just sounding indignant, "You said it yourself. I am the most beautiful woman that you've ever seen. And, you may not be Sas-the man I always imagined myself ending up with, but, Shikamaru, I-"
Dear God, this can't be happening.
"Listen, Ino," Shikamaru's voice was a little strained from the girl half on top of him and the total ludicrousness of what had just happened, "Maybe you should just calm down, take a deep breath-"
This has to be some kind of a nightmare, thought the slim brunette. Sadly, the scent of flowers on his skin and taste of strawberry lip balm on his lips begged to differ.
"Calm down? But, Shikamaru, it's perfect. You and I could-"
Closing his eyes, partially in fear of her rage, partially because his body had continued to respond to the squirming girl on its own, "Ino, listen. You sound insane. You-you don't know what you want. You may not be Miss Perfect, but you are beautiful and everything does come pretty easily to you. Except for Sasuke, of course. Now, I show you some attention, and you think that I'm the new man for you. You never think about the choices you make; you only want me because I told you what you wanted to hear."
She is going to kill me.
After a few seconds of not being flung through the air by the power of a mighty, estrogen-filled punch, Shikamaru cautiously opened one eye to see Ino sitting next to him, not angry but disconsolate, "Is that what you really think of me?"
"Well, part of that was from a conversation I had with Chouji-
Wide-eyed, the blonde stared out across the campus in disbelief, "Chouji?"
Shikamaru took her incredulity as an opportunity to straighten his shirt and cross his legs. By the time, he had finished and begun to answer, Ino had already walked away.
"Tch. Mendoukusai," the look on the boy's tanned face was annoyed and embarrassed.
With a deep sigh, Shikamaru settled himself onto the railing, waiting for his body to return to its normal, non-hormone fueled state.
It was going to be awhile.
All I wanted was some breakfast.
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Gurgle. Grumble. Gurgle.
Gaara's stomach complained loudly about the redhead's lack of recent food consumption.
His hand paused momentarily at the intrusion, but quickly returned to sketching out the scene in front of him.
Lee sat sleeping against the foot of Gaara's bed. Shining black bowl-cut tousled by dreams, and right arm sprawled casually over his bent knee. Head curved to one side.
Coming from behind to put her arms around Gaara's thin shoulders, Sakura looked at her boyfriend and whispered, "I am so lucky."
Moving to sit beside the redhead, the pretty pink-haired girl placed a plate complete with homemade cinnamon roll and small, coffee-filled paint can on his lap. The redhead's stomach gurgled politely, in thanks.
Breathing in the rich scent of cinnamon and coffee beans, Gaara, who (unlike Lee) had not gotten even a nap last night, smiled sleepily at Sakura and replied, "You're right."
Taking a tiny bite of his breakfast, the redhead continued, "And, Lee's very lucky, too."
"Hmm, did you know that you are the very first person to agree with me?"
"About?"
"Me being lucky to have Lee," the pretty girl said with a tense grin.
"Other people are assholes," claimed Gaara, as he went back to sketching the exhausted boy, in front of him.
Cupping her face in her right hand, and leaning on Gaara, Sakura sighed, "Yeah, I mean, I depend on him so much, every single, day. He's always there making me smile, making me laugh, making me-," the pink-haired girl coughed a little in embarrassment at what she had been about to say before continuing, "And, the love and comfort and," she made a silly face in a sweet imitation of her boyfriend, "youthful passion… I, honestly, don't know how I made it so long in this world without him."
Shading the side of Lee's left leg, Gaara agreed, "Yes, and Lee gets you, the girl who loves him enough to put up with a martial arts minor, just so he doesn't have to worry."
"Actually," Sakura grinned a bright pink, "The martial arts minor was something I've been interested in since Lee started teaching me in high school. Strangely enough, I love sparring."
Sakura flushed an even deeper red, as she recalled a weekend (about a month ago) when both her parents and Lee had been out of town. Images of a pretty-pink-haired girl in bright red underwear practicing her moves, while kung-fu music played in the background ran through Sakura's brain. Not to mention, the thirty minute chocolate binge prior...
Still, there were other memories that weren't so happy or so silly that filled her mind, as well: waiting beside a hospital bed for five months, having to help Lee up from the ground when he tried training too early, listening as the doctors claimed that he would never walk again…
Peering down into her lap, Sakura had to pause for a moment, finding the nerve to tell the redhead what she had kept secret from even the young man she loved, "It's really the medical major, that's because of Lee."
Pencil stopped, Gaara stared.
"You know, he got in an accident his senior year, right?"
A nod.
Getting a defiant look on her face, Sakura stated with difficulty, "It was so hard to sit by that hospital bed, day after day. Especially, after I realized that I was in love with him."
The girl smiled to herself, "Haha, Lee even claims that the first day I brought him flowers was the first day we officially started dating, rather than four months ago."
Shaking her head, getting herself back on track, Sakura forced herself to concentrate on the painful memories, "Anyways, after all of those days, waiting, crying, praying to anyone who would listen, I hear the doctors telling Gai that Lee will probably never walk again. But, because anything else just wouldn't have been like him, Lee starts training the second he's conscious for more than few hours at a time. Even when he should still have been in bed. But, he did it. After a few more scary operations and a lot of hard work, he was better than ever physically."
Looking up at Lee again, and avoiding Gaara's gaze, she whispered in a voice hoarse from checked emotion "But, from then on…"
The girl tried not to let the tears in her eyes fall, a determined set to her mouth, "I decided that if he ever got broken again, I was going to be able to fix him."
She paused, "...And, that's why I am here."
Wiping her eyes with one hand, Sakura turned to Gaara with a small, sad smile, "Please don't say anything about this to Lee, ok?. He already feels guilty, because he thinks that my martial arts interest is just an attempt to make him happy."
Cautiously (because he had never done anything like this before), Gaara put an arm around the pretty, pink-haired girl and whispered, "Don't worry. I won't…"
Having been pulled close enough to see what the redhead was working on, Sakura's face, instantly, became thoughtful and appreciative, "Gaara, that's gorgeous. Do you think…I mean, unless you really want it…do you think I could maybe have this after you're finished?"
Scratching at his kanji tattoo a little in frustration, Gaara bobbed his head," Of course, but, ugh, something is wrong with it, and I just can't figure out what."
Glancing back and forth, between the picture and her youth-filled boyfriend, the light of understanding dawned in Sakura's eyes. The pretty girl leaned over and swept some of the dark hair out of Lee's eyes, uncovering the boy's large, black eyebrows. They had been hidden beneath the glistening locks of passion, but now their proud manliness could shine forth once again.
"Yep, that was it," Gaara went back to scribbling.
Sakura arose and began to pick up the boys' messy room. A pile of crumbs in the corner might as well have had a sign that said, "Chouji was here." While, Gaara's bed sheets were twisted into inextricable knots that could only have been created by an unconscious Naruto. Fortunately, Sasuke had poked his head in around one AM, looking for the blonde. And, without much talk or explanation, casually picked him up and carried him next door.
For a moment, the pink-haired girl's perverted mind focused on how absurdly close Naruto's friendship with Sasuke was.
But, only for moment.
After all, Naruto liked Hinata, and Sasuke…
Well, Sasuke didn't like anybody.
Suddenly, as she was leaning over Gaara's bed, trying to reach her left shoe, which had somehow gotten underneath it, the phone rang.
Quickly, so the sound didn't wake Lee, the pink-haired girl answered, "Hello. No, this is Sakura. Yeah. Oh? Yeah, sure he is here. No, hold on, I'll get him for you…"
Turning to Gaara with phone in hand, Sakura relayed the message, "Hey, Gaara, it's for you…it's Neji."
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The air that drifted through the KU café was filled with the scent of almond biscotti and lemon poppyseed muffins.
However, the tense Hyuuga seated in one of the coffee shop's sun-lit corners did not notice the delicious smells and completely ignored the bleating of his stomach, as it called out for breakfast.
Some people might have even said that Neji looked a little nervous.
But, Hyuugas don't get nervous.
Regardless of that fact, Neji's palms were sweaty and his head ached and he desperately wished that Gaara would just show up, already.
Oddly enough, the café bells jingled as the redhead pushed open the glass door, mere seconds later.
Ask and you shall receive, huh?
But, Gaara's face was as blank as a sheet of paper, and the redhead had even left his sketchbook back at the dorm.
This did not bode well for the dark-haired Hyuuga, and his stomach increased its moaning, in response.
The redhead stood silently beside the chair across from Neji, who motioned for the other boy to take a seat.
"No thank you. I'm not planning on staying long, "taking a deep breath, emptying himself, Gaara stared blankly into Neji's eyes, "I really appreciate you asking me here, and wanting to be friends with me,but…but I wanted my life to be different, when I decided to come to college. And, it has been. You may not realize it, but the things your friends say about me…well, they're probably half true. I am screwed up, but, for the first time, I have friends of my own and am actually a little happy. It's just every time I see you or people see us, everything turns back-- turns back the way it used to be."
Pausing to take another breath and steeling his resolve, Gaara confessed, "And me, fucked-up, messy, crazy me is making your life harder, too. From what I've seen, having a friend like me is both a hassle and social suicide for someone like you," looking down at his hands for moment, before returning to peer into the Hyuuga's pale lilac eyes, " I don't want to be any more trouble for you than I already have been, could be. So, I think it's best, if we just don't try this anymore. I'll still help you with your art, if you want, but in class."
Sighing, the redhead bowed his head in Neji's direction, "So, see you then, I guess."
"I hate my girlfriend!"
Gaara halted mid-stride at Neji's strange outburst. Turning to face the, now, standing Hyuuga, Gaara's face had a hint of the quizzical about it.
Blushing a little, Neji stammered a moment before trying to justify that bizarre exclamation with an even odder explanation, "I-I've been dating her for over three years, and I hate her. It's not her fault. She's exactly what she is supposed to be, exactly what her parents and my uncle want her to be. I just, ugh. And, I do it. I date her, because I know it's what they want, and because then I don't have to deal with other girls, pawing all over me. I do everything that I am told and I've never ever been truly happy in my entire life. And, you are the first real friend that I have ever had. Even Lee sees me more as a rival, his dad being my coach, and all. And, everyone else, the endless sea of acquaintances are only around me because of how I look or who my family is or because it's socially required."
Scuffing his shoes against the ground and trying not to look at the other boy, Neji began to sit back down, "Still, you're right. I make your life worse than it needs to be, mostly because I don't do anything to make it better. But, I don't want you to leave thinking that you-that you're some freak, who isn't fit to be around me. If anything, I am-what-what are you doing?"
The dark-haired boy's diatribe had been interrupted by Gaara pulling out a chair and seating himself opposite Neji.
With a little, self-conscious grin, the redhead replied, "That was a really good speech."
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"Ramen! Ramen! Thank you so much, Ero-sennin!" The blonde boy bubbled with joy, slurping up noodle after noodle, purchased by his pervert foster father. Naruto's hair was even messier than usual, due to having been pulled out of bed by the large, white-haired man. At first, Naruto had been understandably upset with Jiraiya and his early Sunday morning wake up call, but then breakfast had been mentioned and…"
"Yay! Do you know that this is the best-"
"Naruto!" Jiraiya stopped the boy's bubbling joy; it was starting to get a little annoying.
Plus, he hated that nickname.
Realizing that he'd been babbling more than usual, Naruto stared red-faced into his ramen bowl.
Almost feeling guilty about shutting the boy up so abruptly, Jiraiya tried to make up for it by feigning an interest in the blonde's life.
"Sooo, how have classes been going? Any hot teachers?" the white-haired man asked, his dark eyes checking the are for suitable ogling material.
With a deliberating look on his face, Naruto pondered his choices; none of his teachers were female, but,"I don't know. I guess, my English teacher could be pretty hot."
Suddenly, Jiraiya was all ears, "And, what is this lovely vision's name?"
The blonde pouted his lower lip in thought, while Jiraiya tried not to become frustrated by the boy's ignorance. Luckily, before too long, the light dawned, "Oh yeah, I remember, now, Hatake Kakashi. Hey, Sakura, even, said that he used to be a detective on the Konoha Police Force. Did you ever work with him?"
The white-haired man's face was a mix of horror, disappointment, and incredulity, "Naruto, I-I never knew."
The picture of complete innocence, the blonde replied, "Didn't know what, Ero-sennin?"
Normally, Jiraiya would have reprimanded him for the nickname or smacked him over the head, but this time he just put a kindly hand on Naruto's shoulder, "I never knew you liked men, Naruto. You should have told me. You didn't have to hide it all of the years, buying those magazines, pretending to date that Haruno girl-"
The blonde looked like someone had smacked him in the face, "WHAT?!"
"Kakashi, you find him attractive-"
"I do?! No, no, no, I was just saying that he could be pretty hot…for a guy…if I had seen the rest of his face…who I am not attracted to…I don't want him…I just don't have any teachers that are girls and you asked…Jiraiya! Stop giving me that look!" cried out Naruto, unsure of how to defend his heterosexuality, never having had to do it before. And, it wasn't made any easier by the patronizing looks his white-haired foster father kept giving him.
"Yes, yes, I know, son. I know. In fact, I know a lot of things. Like, I know Kakashi. That little Haruno girl was right. We were on the force at the same time, but he left for personal…well, I can talk to him about this little crush of yours. He always struck me as a little perverted," says the man who writes make-out books for a living, "I'll make sure he doesn't try to take advantage of my foster son."
The blonde's shoulders began to sag in resignation; Naruto realized that the old man wasn't going to give the joke up, any time soon, "Fine. Thanks. Whatever."
Picking at his own bowl of ramen, Jiraiya said with evident sorrow, "There's really no point in asking if you have any new ladies in your life, then, huh?"
For a brief moment, the blonde considered telling his foster father about the amazing date he had planned for the wonderful Hyuuga Hinata; there was a tie and flowers and fancy restaurant involved. But, he quickly realized that Jiraiya wouldn't believe him, and Naruto's body crumpled further down onto the ramen shop stool.
Things got even worse for the blonde, when Jiraiya asked in a sort of apprehensive tone, "Well, if there aren't any new ladies, how is that, uhh, Uchiha boy doing?"
The look that Naruto gave him was one of complete and utter horror, so the white-haired man decided a change of subject would probably be for the best. After all, there was a purpose behind his visit, beyond leering at beautiful college coeds and destroying his foster son's fragile, young mind.
"Well, now that we've taken care of your whole "coming out" part of my visit, let's get down to why I came by today."
"You didn't just stop to say hel-oh, never mind," the blonde poked at his ramen, dejectedly. While Naruto was certain that Jiraiya cared about him, the boy also knew that caring did not extend to an actual interest in his life or a desire to spend unnecessary time together. And, although he would never admit it, the blonde boy was more than a little hurt by his foster father's lack of curiosity.
"I am a busy, busy man," stated Jiraiya, as he leaned off of his stool to get a better look at the ramen shop girl, who happened to be bending over to pick up a fallen receipt. As her head snapped up to glare at him, the white-haired man took the opportunity to turn his attention back to his foster son.
"Just wanted to make sure that you're keeping out of trouble, keeping safe," said the old pervert, with a grim look crossing his dark brown eyes.
Indignantly pushing his bowl away, Naruto crossed his arms, and mumbled, "Yeah, I lock my doors before I leave and-"
"Are you making sure that you don't walk home alone at night?" Jiraiya interrupted; his voice was, unexpectedly, both monotone and utterly serious.
Blonde brows scrunched together, "I didn't think I needed to. I was supposed to be alright here. That's what you said. That I wouldn't have to worry all the time, anymore. That I'd be safe."
Leaning his elbows onto the ramen shop's bright red counter, the white-haired man admitted, "I thought you would be. I mean, you are. It's just-"
Twisting towards Naruto, hands outstretched, shoulders shrugged, Jiraiya explained, "I got a call from one of my friends on the force, yesterday. Seems that a new gang is causing trouble uptown. At first, it was just a little assault and battery, the occasional puppy kicking. But, now...well, there have been a couple of bombings and even more kidnapings."
'Kidnapings? Who are they kidnaping?" nervously asked the blonde.
"Haha, it's nothing, Naruto. Don't worry about it. I just wanted to make sure that you weren't being too reckless, that's all."
A little desperation pierced through Jiraiya's cheerless laugh, a poor attempt to change the subject.
"But-"
Hopping up and throwing some cash onto the counter, the old pervert proceeded to excuse himself, running away from the blonde's uncomfortable questioning, "Listen, kid, I got an appointment that I can't miss. Let's do this again sometime soon."
Jiraiya began to walk off, but something made him stop and say, one last time, "I meant what I said, Naruto. If you need to go anywhere after sundown, find a friend to go with you, ok?"
And then, the man was gone.
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Having both sat down and, basically, decided that friendship was still a possibility, Gaara and Neji proceeded to stare at one another in awkward silence. The dark-haired Hyuuga was feeling a little foolish, due to the scene he'd just made (in the middle of a peaceful Sunday morning breakfast at the KU café, no less...for shame). While the redhead was just naturally awkward and prone to staring.
Floundering at the unexpected turn of events, Neji cleared his throat and tried to jumpstart the conversation, "I suppose, we just start over, then...clean slate."
Smiling more widely and openly than he'd even thought possible, the handsome boy reached out his right hand to take Gaara's left in a firm handshake, "Hi, I'm Neji Hyuuga. You must be the incredibly talented friend of Lee's that I've heard so much about."
An amused look lit up Gaara's naturally vibrant features, "I don't know about talented, but, yes, I'm a friend of Lee's. It's nice to meet you, Neji. I'm Gaara. Gaara Kage."
As the boys shook hands, Neji realized something and was startled that the discrepancy had never bothered him before.
Kage? I remember, that's how he first introduced himself, but on his door...there's an S, isn't there? And wasn't his brother's last name in the program something different, as well?
"Hey, Gaara, I know that we just met and this might seem rude," the young man grinned at their new inside joke, "but could I ask you a personal question?"
The redhead gave a silent nod in assent.
Inwardly, the last of Neji's tension unwound, for the other boy's quiet nature had ceased to be malevolent and was calmly comforting, once again.
"Your last name is Kage, but on your door, there's an S, and your brother..." the Hyuuga trailed off, due to the air of sudden anxiety that tainted the redhead..
"Kage is my mother's maiden name. But, the last name on my birth certificate is Sabukano, my father's. I hadto use it to register for school. H-h-he doesn't like me using it unless I have to," now, it was the redhead's turn to drift off into silence.
Gaara's pale, triangular face was devoid of emotion.
Neji's sympathy for the redhead's situation and his, obviously, shitty father fell into that emptiness like light into a black hole.
"You get used to it," said Gaara, "I don't really care anymore, that he, you know, wishes I was never born." The redhead flushed a little at the last statement, having let out more truth than he'd intended.
For an instant, Neji's whole body turned burning hot and then ice cold, as he experienced a flash of pure, unadulterated hatred for Gaara's father. Whatever that bastard had done to the boy (or not done, for that matter), it had wounded Gaara deeply.
Placing one graceful hand across the smaller boy's pale forearm, in comfort, Neji noticed the slick feel of scars underneath his fingers. Trying not to look at the intricate network of lines he felt crossing the redhead's wrist, the Hyuuga commiserated with the other boy and his pain, speaking truths that he'd learned from years of hard-won experience in a soft, honest voice, husky with emotion,
"Funny, how much harder not caring seems to be, and how much more it always seems to hurt."
For one perfect moment, the pair was able to share their past sorrows. And rather than gaining new hurts and anxieties to dwell upon, each boy felt lighter, freer.
The seconds passed.
Life continued.
And, both of the boys found themselves relearning how to breathe.
The dark gray clouds that so often filled Gaara's sky blue eyes had been chased away, and they shone like crystals in the warm, early morning sun. Ruby red hair seemed to caress his pale face, curling, ever-so-delicately, onto the back of his black shirt collar. A slight smile tugging at his parted lips served to bring new life to the young man.
Neji's eyes softened in affection.
He is so beaut-
The dark-haired Hyuuga stopped the thought, the careless, senseless thought, that he hadn't been about to actually think, anyways. Not him. Not Hyuuga Neji. How many times had he reassured himself over the past few days that all he wanted out of the talented, young artist was friendship?
And, it's true. It has to be true.
Regardless, the handsome boy's heart was still beating like a drum, and his stomach felt like a jar of butterflies had been let loose within it.
Cling Clang. Cling Clang.
Whether it was a fortunate occurrence or not, the Hyuuga's potential crisis was averted by the entrance of two rather conspicuous individuals, who sat down at the table behind Gaara, and proceeded to point, smile, laugh a little, and joke in such a way that their ridicule was obviously being directed at the unsuspecting redhead, whose back faced the pair.
Any second now, Gaara would notice and...
I won't let that happen.
With that, the handsome young man's resolve easily pushed aside the remnants of other more troubling thoughts, involving misplaced attraction and a Hyuuga's duty.
The only problem is--how can I do anything about those two without him noticing...and without lying to him about it?
Neji couldn't have said why, bu he knew that total honesty was the only way their friendship was going to work. For, there were already so many problems plaguing its beginning, added misdirection and falsehoods would only insure an inevitable falling out.
So, what do I do?
As luck would have it, the Hyuuga's stomach chose that moment to start whining, once again, about the absence of breakfast.
Removing his hand from the redhead's person, Neji put it on his protesting abdomen with a mildly, self-effacing grin (if Neji had been anyone other than who he was, except for maybe Sasuke, the grin would have kicked up the irony a notch, to embarrassedly self-effacing), "Those biscotti smell delicious," the dark-haired Hyuuga said, as if in explanation, "I think, I'm going to grab some real quick. Do you want anything?"
The redhead's face was nearly wistful, as contentment warred with addiction (Gaara loved lemon poppyseed muffins); he lamented, "They are serving my favorite muffins today, but Sakura already force-fed me some wonderful, homemade cinnamon rolls this morning."
Instantly, Neji's mind filled with the disturbing image of Sakura tying Gaara down to an old, wooden chair in some abandoned warehouse, holding his nose closed so that he ended up having to open his mouth (for air), and which she would then proceed to shove tasty bits of frosted cinnamon delight into.
Sometimes, Neji was a little strange.
"But, thanks, anyway," said Gaara with a genuine crinkle of his eyes, as he slyly reached for the napkin dispenser, pulling some pens out of his pocket.
The dark-haired Hyuuga suppressed the urge to chuckle at the other boy's actions and merely hnn'd politely, as he started off on his mission.
Neji made haste to purchase his five almond biscotti, two large coffees, and three lemon poppyseed muffins, grabbing a fistful of sugar and half/half on his way. Asking for an extra large paper sack to carry his purchases in, the brunette had to set the immense caffeinated bulk down as he drew near to the two conspicuous persons. A second after having done so, however, Neji wished that he had kept the huge bag with him, for it occupied his hands and made it less likely that he would slam his fists down onto their table in a fit of anger.
Still, the boy was able to control himself, as he remembered that Gaara might notice the loud thumping noise behind him, and then, well...
So, the Hyuuga, tried his best to be intimidating without noise or violent actions, letting the dangerous edge to his voice say it all.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" commanded the handsome boy, anger darkening his pale features. The result was more haughty than frightening, but neither would have impressed the pair before Neji, anyways.
"What does it look like? We're just getting some breakfast, yeah," retorted the kid to Neji's right. Blonde hair was swept up into a partial ponytail, while long strands were left loose to nearly cover the entire left side of the boy's face, only one bright blue eye visible. Outlined in perfectly-applied, black eyeliner, the blonde's bored gaze seemed to hold a number of dark intentions and delights, sadism, and a love of destruction.
Standing tall and crossing his arms, Neji made his point perfectly clear, "You were staring at us, making jokes or whatever, and now, you are going to stop."
Getting right in the blonde's face, the Hyuuga whispered, "Got me?"
Nervously, the blonde licked his lips, while the boy beside him took his companion's silence as an opportunity to address Neji, " Excuse us, but we were merely discussing whether the two of you were actually an item or if you just liked to hold hands for the hell of it. It's not our fault that you chose to have your...private moment on display, as we walked in."
If the blonde boy was made of chaos and uncontrollable destruction, the other with his auburn hair, copper penny eyes, and stone-cold face was his exact opposite. Even his voice held a quality of infinite time and patience.
Chuckling warmly with the heat of domination hardening his blue eye, the blonde reprimanded his friend, "Come now, be honest, Sasori. Tell him what our discussion was really about. I want to see his reaction, yeah."
With a patronizing smile, Sasori indulged the other boy's request, mocking the enraged Hyuuga before them, "So, is it love, then?"
The level of Neji's anger was reaching monumental heights, even though he knew that the boy named Sasori was manipulating him, trying to draw him out (for whatever reason), he could barely control his volume as he declared in vicious tones, "And, so what if we were in love with one another? What if he was my boyfriend? Would that be some kind of joke to you, assholes?"
Henna-colored eyes stared woodenly into Neji's, "Why, yes, yes it would. Seeing as how we grew up with Gaara and all."
"And know him sooo well, yeah," added the blonde, peering suggestively up at Neji.
While the blue-eyed boy was, obviously, trying to antagonize the Hyuuga with his words and tone, it was Sasori's matter-of-fact eeriness that set Neji on edge. In fact, it took a few seconds for the actual information he was just given to process through the handsome boy's brain.
These guys are from Suna, then? Gaara never...I guess, it wasn't just his dad that made him want to start over at college. These bastards-
"Well, I know him, too. I know him well enough to know that the last thing he needs is you ruining his breakfast and wasting his time," claimed Neji, hoping against hope that his voice didn't really sound as whiny as he thought it did.
Sasori raised a single eyebrow.
The blonde licked his lips, again, but not because he was nervous, "You know him? Has he let you see him angry, yet? Has he told you that he's the biggest mistake that his father ever made? Do you know him that well, yeah?"
The Hyuuga was lost.
Make him angry, what? And, talking about that fucking father of his? Neji may not know what the blonde boy was talking about, but he did know one thing.
"What if I do, huh? What does it matter? The only thing that should matter to you two is the quickest way out of this place," bluffed the Hyuuga, letting the threat of a fight hang heavy between himself and the boys.
"And, who, may I ask, are you to make such a demand," Sasori calmly asked.
Unlike Gaara, whose gentle monotone held the silence of a lazy summer day, warm and comforting, the auburn-haired boy's held the hush of the battlefield, when fighting has ended and blood soaks both the triumphant and the defeated.
"Neji. Hyuuga." stated the boy, daring them to make a move, even while wishing he could glance back to make sure Gaara was still oblivious to this whole exchange.
Sasori's face appeared to be a stoic mask, but Neji's response had added an air of thoughtfulness to it. The blonde boy hadn't noticed the change in his companion, and, always being ready for a fight, continued to push the Hyuuga's buttons, "Hyuuga Neji, yeah? What a pretty name for such a pretty boy? No wonder, Gaa-"
"Deidara," the auburn-haired boy's tone brooked no argument, as he halted the blonde's tongue.
Snapping his head around, Deidara glared in confusion at Sasori, who seemed to have completely changed his attitude towards Neji,
"You are right, Neji. I think, it is time for the two of us to be leaving. Besides, Deidara and I have an appointment, we musn't missHaven't we?" the wooden, young man stood as he spoke, bringing the blonde up with him.
"Appointment, yeah. But, it'll only take a few minutes to-"
"Deidara, we don't want to be late. You know how I hate to keep others waiting," said Sasori with a hint of malice, peppering his words.The blonde took the not-so-hinted suggestion, and started to make for the door of the café, scowling at Neji as he passed.
Turning back to the smaller, auburn-haired boy, the Hyuuga was given one last parting shot, "You may think you know our little Gaara, Hyuuga Neji. But, trust me, when I say that you are opening yourself up to a world that you don't belong to. It is dark and twisted and a part of that beautiful, unassuming boy, over there. He needs it. Before too long, you are going to wish you had never met him."
"I will never wish that," stated Neji with conviction. But, it was slightly shaken, when the only response Sasori gave was a knowing smile and a wave goodbye.
Absentmindedly picking up his huge bag o' breakfast, Neji wasn't all that hungry anymore and regretted having purchased so much food.Sitting back down across from the redhead, who was sketching little cartoons onto the cafe's napkins, Neji had a few seconds to examine the other boy, before Gaara looked up.
I won't ever wish that...
No, I won't, I won't, I won't...
Will I?
The redhead's eyes lit upon Neji's mountain of food with amusement, his innocence shattering the Hyuuga's indecision.
"Hey, I'm back," he said with a good humor lighting his pale eyes, "Are you sure you don't want a muffin?"
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Truth be told, Neji was not the only person who suddenly found themselves switching their perspectives on the pleasures of eating this morning
Having made it through eight orders of ramen before Jiraiya's warning, Naruto was, now, feeling all eight of those bowls threatening to make their way back up the blonde's throat.
It was always like this when the fear and panic set in.
And, it was a feeling the tanned boy had hoped never to experience, ever again.
Blonde head down, rough hands clutched to his middle, Naruto plodded across the balmy KU campus, heading back to his dorm.
Why? Why did this have to happen?! No, stop, don't worry yet, Naruto. Everything is going to be fine. All that old pervert said was to be safe, be careful. It's just some random crimes being committed and he's worried I will get caught in the crossfire. Okay, kidnapings, not so random, but I never had to worry about kidnapings, I only had to, Oh God!
The blonde picked up his pace, as his mental distress increased; his hands tightening across his scar-strewn stomach.
They caught those-they found the bodies of those two thugs. They're dead. They're dead and they're not coming back. And just because a new gang is in town, kidnaping whoever, doesn't mean they are looking for me. I'm just an old dead Detective's kid, what good am I? But, why did Jiraiya warn me? What if he thought he was keeping me safer by not telling me the truth? What if they are targeting people like me?! What if-!!
But, Naruto was unable to finish that thought. Actually, the blonde was barely able to make it off the path and into the bushes before he began to become reacquainted with this morning's breakfast, last night's supper, and yesterday's lunch.
After emptying the contents of his stomach, the boy continued to dry heave into the bushes, his panic causing him to hyperventilate.
Fifteen minutes later, throat sore, Naruto lay on his back in the lush grass, next to..., well, let's just say, in the lush grass. One tanned arm fell across his hot forehead, blocking out the dappled sunlight, falling through emerald green tree leaves..
I haven't freaked out like that in over a year.
Perspiration coated the boy's body, soaking through his orange beater. The salt of his sweat ran into barely open blue eyes, causing them to burn a little in irritation.
Not since I met Sasuke. Not since he saved my sorry ass.
The blonde closed his eyes and tried to breathe away the vise crunching the air out of his chest. Right now, Naruto would have loved for someone to talk to about this, and Sasuke, his supposed best friend, would have been the perfect candidate. The Uchiha knew that Naruto had been a target for the local gangs since the blonde's detective father had gotten too good for the Konoha crime syndicates to put up with.
Since Naruto's father had been killed, alongside his mother in the bloodiest double homicide Konoha had ever seen.
Since the unkillable Uzumaki brat had become a new challenge for every thug in the city.
Yes, Sasuke would have been the perfect person to unload upon, only...
He's so busy with scholarships and studying, I doubt that he'd take the time to listen to me. Besides, it's not like he's told me anything about him and his brother yet. But...
"Agh! What am I going to do?!" the blonde cried out in frustration and fear.
"Naruto? Uzumaki Naruto, is that you?" a familiar voice called from the forgotten pathway.
Sakura.
Swiftly leaping up, brushing off his clothes, and wiping his mouth, Naruto hurried to get out on the path, before the well-meaning, pink-haired girl decided to come in for him.
Faking a toothy grin, Naruto laughed, "Haha, ahayo, Sakura!"
Sakura was not a fool.
In fact, the pretty girl was exceedinglyly intelligent. Far more so than the blonde boy, facing her.
And, it helped that they'd been best friends since their senior year of high school.
She knew something was wrong.
"Hey, Naruto. Why were you in the bushes?" Good question.
Looking everywhere but at Sakura, the blonde replied, "Oh, well, umm, I tripped...and fell...and landed in the bushes...but," Naruto got stuck here for a moment, but scrunching his eyes tighter helped him think of way to end his perfect alibi, "it was really comfortable, so I was relaxing, when you came by. What are you doing?"
For a split second, the blonde convinced himself that Sakura would be satisfied with the story and move on.
Holding up Gaara's sketchbook, she said, "Gaara forgot this before he left for the café. I wanted to go run some of my more boring errands before Lee woke up and figured that I'd drop this by on my way-"
Interrupting her, in an effort to keep the topic away from his lie, "Errands, huh? What kind?"
"Buying a picture frame. But, Naru-"
Sakura's answer was clipped, but the blonde was faster still.
"Picture frame, huh? I suppose, it's for a drawing of Gaara's. Lucky you. I wish I had one. Speaking of Gaara..."
That's someone I could talk to. Someone who I know would listen.
"I was about to head over to the dorms to see if he wanted to hang out, but if he's at the café, I guess, that's where I need to go. If you want, I can take that for you," Naruto held out his hand for the thickly bound sketchbook.
Reluctantly, Sakura passed it to the blonde, feeling as though she had lost some sort fo battle before ever getting the chance to fight,"Ok, thanks, but Nar-"
"There, now, you can go do your errands without worrying about anything else, ne? And, I better head out if I am going to get this to Red, before he leaves the café. Talk to you later," Naruto waved goodbye, effectively dodging the pink-haired girl's curiosity.
Now, some people might wonder why he didn't just talk to Sakura and tell her what his foster father had said, rather than run off to find Gaara, whom he had just met a few days ago. She would listen. She would understand. She knew nearly as much about the situation as Sasuke did, but...
No.
A memory from last night, of Sakura laying happily in Lee's arms, as they talked and laughed the hours away.
She's happy.
I'm not going to ruin that with my problems.
Never.
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Never had Gaara been so totally content in his entire life.
As he strolled (yes, GAARA was strolling) down the twisting paths of KU college, his pockets stuffed full of ink-filled napkins, his stomach stuffed full of Neji's coffee and lemon poppyseed muffins, the redhead considered how different life was this morning, as opposed to yesterday.
The boy was feeling so great and full of good will that he even began pondering a call to his siblings; Gaara needed to congratulate Kankuro on his wonderful performance, and Temari...
Do I really need an excuse to call my own sister?
Stopping in the middle of the path, the redhead thought about that not-so-rhetorical question.
Yes, seeing as how I don't think I ever have called her on my own, even once. But, there's a first time for everything, right?
Like being happy...
And, thus, Gaara continued strolling, sometimes even ambling, down the sunny walkways, until he heard a voice that took every happy thought, every sweet intention, every tender idea and dashed them all to pieces.
"Look what we have here, if it isn't little Gaara."
No, please, no. Not now. Not now.
"Walking around all by himself, too, yeah."
And him. Why did it have to be him, too?
Caught like a deer in the headlights, the redhead couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't believe what was happening.
They're here. Kankuro never told me they came here.
As Deidara and Sasori drew closer to Gaara, like predators nearing prey, the blonde seemed to be the more excited one, barely able to contain a wide, sexy but frightening smile, "Glad we got done with our appointment so soon, yeah."
The redhead could feel Deidara's breath brush against his ear, as he spoke in that terrifying whisper that pulled at his chest and...
Sasori stood back, enjoying the show. The slim boy was able to feel but not see the blonde's hands lick like fire up into his hair, gripping it roughly, and pulling back Gaara's head, farther than was comfortable.
The boy's pale neck lay bare.
A pile of sketch-filled napkins had fallen out of the redhead's pockets onto the cement sidewalk, casually kicked away by Deidara, while his strong fingers stroked the length of Gaara's throat.
"We aren't the only ones who miss you either, Gaara. You're uncle tells me that you haven't even called to tell him how your first week was. Now, is that how family is supposed to treat one another? He's missed your-, well, he's missed your company nearly as much as we have," stated Sasori, calmly, while the redhead felt his entire body go weak with frantic thought.
Yashamaru. I couldn't. I can't. I am never going to talk to him, again.Not ever.
The blonde chose that moment to continue his attentions, pressing the boy's neck down, painfully, farther.
Unable to control himself, Gaara let out a cry, "Ahhh!, D-duh-d-don't, De-de-dei-"
The other boy's hands drifted down his body, pulling the redhead close against him with delight, "I missed that little stutter, yeah."
Pressing his lips up against Gaara's ear, the blonde mocked him with a hungry grin, "
P-puh-puh-please, Dei-Dei-Deidara. Puh-puh-please, Duh-don't, S-s-s-stop."
Without even a twinkle in his eyes to show his enjoyment of the scene, Sasori cautioned, "Perhaps we should get off the path first. This place is a bit too public for what I think you have in mind, Deidara."
Please, if no one sees us, I will do whatever you want. Just don't ruin this for me, please, the redhead thought, but he knew better than to voice his plea aloud. The two boys, his greatest tormentors growing up, would delight in doing exactly the opposite of whatever he asked.
Letting a pink tongue barely flick the tip of Gaara's ear, Deidara smirked at the redhead's barely withheld groan, "You're right, Sasori. And, maybe, after we find ourselves somewhere more private, and if I am very good, you can give me some lovely scars to cover my right arm, Gaara. My left hasn't been the same since the last time we played, yeah."
The redhead shivered in a mixture of fear, revulsion, and, although he hated to admit it, desire. The part of him, the tiny, disgusting part of him that welcomed the blonde's touch was Gaara's greatest source of pain.
And, as he remembered how roughly the blonde liked to play, the redhead closed his eyes and wished, Just get it over with. Play with me all you want. Do it now, before someone sees us.
But,Gaara's wish was not be fulfilled and playtime was soon interrupted by an obnoxious but loveable voice, which the redhead prayed he was only imagining.
"Hey! Let go of him!"
No. No. No one can see this. No one can know about this.
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After leaving Sakura, Naruto was glad to see that his bushes weren't all that far from the coffee shop. And, five minutes of walking should bring him to Gaara and, hopefully, peace of mind.
But, every single one of those minutes was torture. The blonde felt as though each person he passed by on the sidewalk was staring at him, judging him, waiting for him to show some sign of weakness before pouncing.
Fear dripped like burning acid into Naruto's mind, eating away the past week. Hell, the past year, where he had been safe, where he had been healthy, where he had been...
Happy. Why is it that every time something good happens in my life, ten horrible things happen right after? Are there just some people in this world who aren't meant to be anything but miserable? Is this just fate's way of telling me to shut the fuck up and die, alone and without-
Naruto's frenzy of dread and self-indulgence was cut short by a voice he recognized, its cry coming from around the next bend in the path, "Ahhh!, D-duh-d-don't, De-de-dei-"
Barely, the blonde made out two other voices as he picked up his pace, trying to reach Gaara, who was obviously in trouble, all of his fear forgotten.
"I missed that little stutter, yeah. P-puh-puh-please, Dei-Dei-Deidara. Puh-puh-please, Duh-don't, S-s-s-stop."
"Perhaps we should get off the path first. This place is a bit too public for what I think you have in mind, Deidara."
As the he rounded the bend, Naruto saw two boys towering over the little redhead. One was standing back, a voyeuristic air to his stance. The other, "You're right, Sasori. And, maybe, after we find ourselves somewhere more private, and if I am very good, you can give me some lovely scars to cover my right arm with, Gaara. My left hasn't been the same since the last time we played, yeah."
The other was going to get the crap beaten out of him, for even thinking of touching Gaara.
"Hey! Let go of him!" Naruto yelled, dropping the redhead's sketchbook on the ground as he leaned back and prepared to punch Deidara, as hard as was humanly possible. But, unfortunately, the blonde Uzumaki couldn't follow through, for the boy used Gaara as a shield against Naruto's sudden attack, shoving the redhead into his arms.
Gaara slid straight out of Naruto's grasp, onto the ground, his eyes wide with terrible disgust and self-loathing.
"Gaara? Gaara, are you alright?" The blonde asked, not precisely knowing what was going on, other than the fact that someone had just hurt his friend.
Sasori and Deidara had regrouped and were standing opposite the two boys, appearing unruffled by either Gaara's distress or Naruto's rage. However, the auburn-haired boy's eyes were uncharacteristically lit, as he watched the younger blonde try to, simultaneously, comfort the redhead and glare at his tormentors.
"You assholes...,"Naruto growled, "How could you do something like that to Gaara?"
For the second time that day, Sasori halted Deidara's movement, as the pony-tailed young man prepared to kick the shit out of the tanned punk in the orange beater, who had the balls to call him an asshole, "Deidara, we are leaving. Now."
Grabbing the other boy by the upper arm, Sasori began to drag Deidara away, while the blonde protested, "Damn it, Sasori, what's the big idea, yeah?" The auburn-haired stoic did not dignifyhis companion's question with a response, but continued to lead him in the opposite direction of Naruto and Gaara.
As they left, Sasori called out, "Farewell, Uzumaki Naruto, I hope we will meet again."
How did he know my name?
"And, Gaara," Sasori turned his head to the side, so that a cruel smile could be seen, "We will be seeing you, again, as well. Very very soon, I hope."
So, the older boys were gone, leaving behind Naruto, pissed off and confused and Gaara...
And, Gaara...
The blonde boy glanced quickly around the area.
Where the hell did he go?
The answer was: about ten feet to Naruto's right with the distance rapidly increasing.
Before too long, the blonde's searching blue eyes found him, and he ran to catch up.
Drawing near to the recently molested redhead, Naruto heard him muttering under his breath, while his chin buried itself into his chest, "It's all over now. It's all over. I can't see any of them. He'll say something, and everyone will find out about me and..."
Luckily, Naruto was not the kind of person who became weirded out by muttering, traumatized teenagers, who had just been sexually assaulted and who seemed to have had similar experiences numerous times in the past, from how those two boys had acted, anyway.
He was the kind of person, who pushed aside the awkwardness of any situation with his kind spirit and goodwill. He was the kind of person who cared more about who a person was, then what people said about them. He was the kind of person who forgot all of his fear and self-consciousness, when it came to protecting a friend.
He was the kind of person who put his arm around Gaara and promised that everything was going to be alright; he wasn't going to tell anybody what had just happened; and he still wanted to be Gaara's friend, no matter what might have happened in his past.
And, even though the redhead knew that things had just gotten fucked up again, and his life was no longer the shiny, happy place that it had been (for all of five minutes), he let a part of him believe the blonde, because...
Naruto was, also, the kind of person that Gaara had always wanted to be.
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Ring Ring.
Ring Ring.
"Hello? Oh, hey, Ino. What? Why not? Oh, more practice...well, did you maybe want to meet after—...No? Okay. Alright. Sounds good. See you-...well, goodnight," Chouji placed the phone back into its cradle, an expression of bewilderment covering his agreeable features.
"Hey, Shikamaru, Ino says she can't make it to breakfast tomorrow. Something about an emergency dance practice or something. Don't you think that's kind of weird?"
The dark-haired boy, who had been lazing upon his comfortable, pillow-filled dorm bed, paused momentarily before answering, "Well, Ino's weird. But, if she said she has dance practice, then, I guess she has dance practice."
Peering out of half-opened eyes to see how Chouji was taking his response, Shikamaru was relieved to see his pleasantly plump best friend nod and go back to his desk to finish Monday's homework.
Sigh. Things just keep getting worse and worse...
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Author's Note: There was a lot of strange smexing going on in this chapter, and so, I have brought Ebisu, closet pervert in to discuss...mostly because I want this note to be short and I don't much like Ebisu.
"HEY!" cries out the creepy, sunglass-wearing Special Jounin.
I would say I'm sorry...but I'm not. They stare at each other in awkward silence.
OKAY, anyways, pretty quick update if I do say so myself. And, I actually got five reviews on my last chapter, does huge silent hurrah! motion, this brings me one step closer to my goal of 100...But, even better than that, I got tons of new reviewers.
I love you, guys.
The only thing I really have to add up in here is a question for people to answer, if they review this chapter (which you really should...it makes my heart grow three whole sizes bigger), and that is:
Would anyone be interested in side fics (1-3 chapters in length), detailing minor storylines like how Shino, Kiba, and Hinata got to be friends and a little of how they grew up together.
That's just an example, but also most likely the one I would start with.
They can be stand alone fics, I just wanted an idea of how many people might want to read them, who read Painted Dreams.
Anyways, R&R (as you have been told...EXHAUSTIVELY) rocks my world. So, please do it, and-
"Hey, what about me? I am supposed to be your special guest?" Ebisu whines. The author sort of glares at him, and then says, "Sorry, looks like its too late. Why don't you go...oh, I don't know, teach some obnoxious but loveable kid to walk on water using chakra control, or something..."
He pouts and walks off, as the Author makes the "shooing" gesture with her hands.
NEXT WEEK: "Soccer, soccer, soccer. Gaara's first game!"
or
"Sasuke FINALLY makes a reasonably long appearance...yay for fangirls!"