A/N: This is just a note to thank you all for your reviews and inform you all that there won't be an update for two weeks; I'm going to be at summer camp. If I get a chance to work on it at all over the break, I will, so that you can read the next chapter as soon as possible. Oh, and to Spoon no Miko and catc10, thanks for correcting the title (I'm only in my first year of Latin). The words 'Dulce Et Decorum Pro Patria Mori' actually mean 'it is sweet and appropriate to die for the fatherland.' As for the rest of the reviewers, thank you, but please, please give me constructive criticism. I'm here to improve, not just get praised, although that's nice. Tell me what you liked and didn't like about this chapter, please. Enjoy!
"Hey, Gaara," Naruto sing-songed, blue eyes gleaming in the half-light from the dawning sun, "Whatcha thinking 'bout?" Gaara blinked, but answered,
"I don't understand why what happened to you is so awful. Does this… does that make me a bad person?" Naruto plucked at his shirt- he had grabbed it and put it on as soon as Tsunade left, uncomfortable with being so exposed- sighed, then looked up, smiling gently. "Nah, just confused. I guess…" The Kyuubi vessel snorted, rolling over onto his stomach. "You know, it's kinda weird: I feel like I can tell you anything, 'cause you don't have any prejudices." Gaara inclined his head in encouragement, finding that he actually enjoyed the feeling of being trusted; even his siblings didn't trust him, afraid to be around him for long periods of time. Naruto inhaled, then said,
"Okay, let's see if I can explain why everyone's freaking out. You know how, um… stuff like that works, right?" Gaara wrinkled his nose at the mention; Kankuro, blushing furiously, had given him a short and incredibly abortive explanation when he was younger, but cut it off when he got a nosebleed. Regardless, he felt that he had a somewhat comprehensive understanding of it, despite his low opinion of the activity. "Yes."
"Well, see-" Naruto swallowed, rocking back and forth, unable to say the words, "it's supposed to be 'fun.' Without getting too girly, it kinda shows you trust the other person enough to do-" he made a wavy motion with his hand, "-that."
"And this was a betrayal of your trust?" Naruto pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping thin, scarred arms around his legs. Gaara instinctively recognized the posture as that of a wounded animal, and felt the emptiness inside him howl in kinship. "Not really. I never trusted Kyuubi. I mean, did you trust Shukaku? It was really… it's made me lose faith in myself, in my own power to protect myself."
"You're too soft." Gaara's voice was flat, non-judgmental, a simple statement of fact. "I could feel it when you killed others. It hurt. You were never meant for war. You took no joy in their deaths like I did. All I felt was an extensive, deep sadness, like you were killing them along with yourself." Naruto glanced at him, then chuckled. "You know, for such a quiet guy, you make some really good observations!
But anyway, it just hurt, you know? It hurt because it was my decision to have Kyuubi do that to me, so I could protect my village from enemies, so I wouldn't ever fail anyone ever again like I failed Sasuke. I just wish…" he swallowed hard, then sniffled, tears welling in the ocean-blue eyes. "I just wish that I could have someone touch me without feeling him, that I could sleep without worrying that I'll wake in the forest with him inside me." The tears trailed down his face while Gaara watched, fascinated. He had never cried after Yashamaru died, despising it as weakness, as a show of something that was unneeded for his existence.
He reached out, wanting to feel tears again. Naruto's head swung around to face him, still smiling. "And now I'm crying, see?" The blond leaned forward, slowly, slowly, until his cheek finally rested in Gaara's cupped hand, wet warmth spreading over Gaara's palm, Naruto's breathing rapid and ragged as he fought to keep from flinching. "Don't cry," Gaara said, surprised to hear himself speaking. "Don't cry, Naruto."
"But I have to cry," Naruto told him, blue eyes half-shut as he clenched his fists, trembling as if he was trying to prove something to Kyuubi, to prove that he was not broken. Gaara stared at him, feeling pleasure at the simple skin-to-skin contact (unexpected as rain, a sudden knowledge that this was what he had been looking for all his life without ever knowing what it was he was searching for) tingling and dancing up his nerves to buzz in his skull. "I have to cry because that's all that's left for me." He finally leaned away from Gaara's hand, leaving Gaara with only phantom feelings and a twinge of regret.
"It is not all that's left," he told him. Naruto gazed at him, snorted, put a hand behind his head and scratched. "Really? What else do I have?" Gaara paused. What else was there? Friends- no, for true friends would know his secret, and until they did and stayed regardless they were not true friends; family- he had never had any; love- Gaara didn't know what love was, but he knew what it was not, and the not-love was what he saw directed at Naruto. But he had nothing, as well. No friends, no family (his siblings did not care for him, and indeed preferred talking to anyone else rather than him), no love, no respect (not even the Kazekage position brought him that, it only increased others' fear).
"You have me," he said finally. Naruto blinked. "You can't stay here, you're Kazekage!" Gaara smiled slightly. "And I have found that being Kazekage has brought me nothing." He felt the truth of the words, felt them vibrate through his body to hum and sing in his bones as the sand sang at night. Naruto was the only one who understood him, who spoke to him and cared for him, who… trusted him. "I will give up the Kazekage position," he continued, "to Temari. The people of Suna have always preferred her to me, and I'd…" he ducked his head, staring at the way the sand drifted quietly through his toes, "I would rather stay with you. You are the only one who makes me feel human."
He peered up through the fringe of blood-red hair at Naruto, watching his face go through several different emotions: shock, disbelief, a sort of desperate hope, then the blond's face settled into a wide, joyous grin. "Really?"
"Yes." Naruto whooped, leaping off the couch and limping around the room, making plans. "Awesome! I'll have to move to a larger apartment-" he stopped. "If you want to live with me?" Gaara, looking at the pathetically hopeful expression on his face, could not find it in himself to refuse. "Of course. I would find any other option disgusting."
"I don't think the old hag will be too happy to let you stay with me," Naruto said as he plopped back down on the couch, trailing blankets behind him. "She will," Gaara said, confident. He would make her let him. Naruto sank back into the cushions, letting his head loll onto the armrest. "Hey, Gaara, how did you keep yourself from falling asleep? I've only been doing this for three months, and it really, really sucks!" Gaara shrugged, looking at the dark rings around Naruto's eyes, uncomfortable at seeing something so personal on someone else, even if it was Naruto.
"I read books and trained."
"But books are so boring!" Both of them looked up as they heard Umino coming down the stairs, his eyes red and swollen from crying.
"Naruto…?" The blond trudged across the room to stand before Umino, looking up at him. Gaara, uncomfortable with such blatant displays of love, looked away, hearing only the quiet sound of Naruto's apologies and Umino's vehement denials that he had done anything wrong.
"You could never do anything that would make me love you less, Naruto," the chuunin said quietly. "When I befriended you I made a commitment, to you and to myself, to love you, to be your friend and teacher, and nothing, not even what the Kyuubi has done, could make me love you any less." He heard a thick silence and glanced out of the corner of his eye: Naruto had extended a hand towards Umino's face, fingers trembling as he brushed them over the scarred nose, before he snatched his hand back to his chest, swallowing. "Thanks." Naruto's voice was surprisingly small and sad, and Gaara found himself missing the loud joy of a few moments earlier.
"Kazekage, would you mind giving Naruto and I a few moments to ourselves?" Gaara inclined his head and stood, hoisting his gourd onto his back and walking out into the foyer, closing the living room door behind him. He looked up, up, up into Hatake Kakashi's masked face, faintly registering his own surprise at how tall the infamous Copy Ninja was. The silver-haired man's visible eye was dull, lips moving under the navy blue cloth as he asked,
"How is he?" Gaara searched for words to properly convey the sense of sadness and fear that stained Naruto's blue eyes. "Tired," he finally said. "Tired, huh," Hatake echoed, seeming to slump even further, as if guilty of some unpardonable sin. "Tell me, Gaara," the tall man breathed his name like a sigh, some sort of blessing, "does he hate me?" Gaara frowned, unsettled at the way the man's black eye probed his, searching.
"I do not think that he possesses the ability to truly hate anyone," he said in an attempt to be diplomatic. Hatake laughed hoarsely. "You're probably right. I've been given a mission from the Hokage, and I'd be honored if you'd join me in it."
"What is the mission?"
"To protect Naruto." Gaara didn't need to think about the answer: it had always been there, only enhanced by their present circumstances and the debt that he still owed the other vessel. "Yes, Hatake-san." His eyes narrowed. "Why do you care for him?" Hatake started, then put a hand behind his head, eye curving into a smile. His voice was bitter when he answered,
"I was his teacher."
"You were his teacher? Where were you when he won against me in the Chuunin exams?" Hatake tried to speak, but Gaara cut him off, white-hot fury rising in his belly at Hatake's betrayal of his student, betrayal like Yashamaru's betrayal, bitter and cold, "Where were you when he nearly died against Uchiha?" Gaara smirked sadistically. "Oh, that's right. You were too busy taking care of your precious Uchiha, the boy who betrayed you and your village, too busy to care for the person who let himself be raped for his friends!" His voice was poisonous. "Don't tell me that you were his teacher."
He turned away and left the house for the Hokage tower, feeling Hatake's black gaze boring into his back all the way.
Kakashi stared after the Kazekage's retreating form for a while; did everyone know what a failure he was? He closed his eye, leaning against the wall as he thought about Naruto's blue, blue eyes. So familiar, but the knowledge dangled tantalizingly just out of reach, taunting him. He looked out the window, restless gaze skipping over the rooftops to land on the Hokage monument.
'Oh god.' Blue as cornflowers, blue as sky or ocean, golden as tarnished brass or sunlight on water- How hadn't he recognized it? How hadn't he connected the hyperactivity, the ramen addiction, the genius for battle?
'Arashi-sensei's son… Yondaime's son?' His fingers curled into fists as he slid down the wall to end up curled in a miserable ball, tracing the long scar across his palm that his teacher had given him. He had failed, failed his teacher, failed his student, failed his comrade. He had broken his own code. By his own rules, he was now worse then scum.
'Arashi-sensei, you must hate me,' he thought, staring into nothingness, remembering his teacher's manic grin and the way he'd punch him on the head for being too serious. Nausea roiled in his gut, his sudden self-loathing dancing on the edge of physical pain. He couldn't bear the thought of Naruto hating him, despite Gaara's words, couldn't bear the thought of those blue, beautiful eyes staring at him helplessly, asking 'why does it hurt so much?' Couldn't bear the thought of his own ignorance consigning his teacher's son to suffering for the rest of his years.
He had failed twice over. He had failed Sasuke, and Naruto had repaired that failure. He had failed his teacher and his student, but Naruto couldn't repair this, couldn't escape from the abuse alone. He firmed his jaw and stood, uncurling his hands.
'On my honor as a shinobi of Konoha, I will not fail him a second time, Arashi-sensei. I swear it.'
Naruto opened the door to the hallway, trembling slightly. He hated this! He hated not being able to give Iruka hugs, hated not being able to take comfort in his teacher's embrace like he had always done. Even just touching Iruka was hard, bringing visions of the Kyuubi's claws raking across his face, splitting skin and muscle to expose his jaw, like the fox had done once. Now that they knew how dirty he was, he couldn't touch them. He'd make them dirty, too. He stopped, blinking at Kakashi's intense gaze, then flushed, looking down.
"Naruto," he looked up, and found himself ensnared in the pool of darkness, "I know that this doesn't really help make up for the way I treated you, but for what it's worth… I'm sorry." Naruto blinked again. His teacher was apologizing to him, the bastard vessel?
"That's okay, Kakashi-sensei," he answered. "There's nothing to apologize for." Uncomfortable with the faintly possessive tinge to Kakashi's gaze, he turned away and began limping toward the staircase.
He stiffened, gasping, as strong arms wrapped loosely about his waist, Kakashi picking him up with an arm underneath his knees, holding him close to his chest as he began to climb the stairs. Naruto squeezed his eyes shut against the horrible feeling of Kyuubi crawling around in him, clapping his hands to his ears as he tried to shut out the fox's grating laughter. 'Stopit stopit nononono-' He felt words rumble in Kakashi's chest, bringing him back from visions of bloody eyes and gaping jaws-
"It's okay, Naruto. It's okay, just look at me, look at me." Naruto opened his eyes and tilted his head back, staring into Kakashi's visible gray eye, curved in worry, letting his hands curl into his former teacher's jounin vest, the drumbeat of Kakashi's heart grounding him in reality. Kakashi nudged open the door and carried him inside, carefully setting him down on the bed. Naruto disentangled his hands, staring at the floor. "Thanks," he mumbled, glancing up. Kakashi smiled underneath the mask, "Anytime."
"Sorry I-" he gestured helplessly, "got you dirty." Kakashi's eye narrowed into an angry, pained slit. "Naruto," his voice was a sigh, "you've done nothing wrong. You were just the victim; it wasn't your fault. Oh, before I forget, the Hokage has taken you off active duty until you recover." He nodded tiredly, rubbing at his eyes. "I'll let you sleep," Kakashi said, patting him on the thigh and getting up. Naruto watched him take a step towards the door, only to whip around decisively. Naruto closed his eyes at the unexpected movement, expecting pain.
Instead he felt cool, dry lips brush lightly across his forehead in a caress, his teacher's gloved hand touching his fingers. The lips left, and he opened his eyes in time to see Kakashi pulling his mask back up. The silver-haired jounin smiled at him, "Sleep well," and left. Naruto resisted the urge to yell that he couldn't sleep, 'cause Kyuubi might want him!
Naruto pulled the shades to the room, blocking the morning sunlight, and moved himself underneath the covers, pulling it up to his chin and folding his arms under his head. He rolled over and stared towards the door that Kakashi went out of, chewing on his lip pensively.
When Kakashi had held him close, his heart beating strongly and comforting words rumbling in his chest, Naruto had almost, for once in his life, felt…
Safe.
'Damn it, damn it, damn it!' Kakashi ran his hands through his hair again, resisting the urge to pace around the room. Why the hell had he done that! The man was a rape victim for God's sake and he'd fucking kissed him! He leaned against the wall, rubbing his forehead. 'Smooth move, Hatake, now he probably thinks you want to rape him too.'
He sighed, missing the feel of Naruto's warm weight leaning against his chest. He hadn't meant to do that, but Naruto had looked so innocent-tempting-tired with his blond hair tousled and drooping in his eyes, blue eyes trusting and filled with an honesty that was all-too-rare in the world of the shinobi.
Sighing again, he removed his book, flipping to his bookmarked page. He just had to be careful of Naruto, careful not to let himself get too close.
Because he couldn't take being broken again.