Ten Reasons Why I Hate Rock Lee
1) He's hyper
2) He's ecstatic
3) He doesn't make sense half the time
4) The way he talks ticks me off
5) He's dumb
6) He's a coward
7) If he doesn't like something he ignores it
8) He's totally clueless when it comes to love
9) He stole my heart and broke it
10) He has yet to give it back
Signed, ------
(The name has been meticulously ripped out, as if someone had signed it then decided to leave it anonymous after all)
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Breaking the Music
By FlightAngel
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Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, but I do own this story: so you steal, I kill
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Lee is eating an ice cream cone with all the gracefulness and beauty of a fly trying to fly upwards cross-eyed. There is vanilla ice cream smeared on his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the crease next to his lips and was now dribbling messily down his chin and onto the picnic table. Neji, who is sitting cringing in front of him, looks like he was just barely resisting the urge to grab the nearest cloth—Shikamaru's Vest—to wipe off all that syrup off the other's senior's face.
"Nehji," The green-clad boy says happily in-between slurps with his mouth full, "Jhis is she bestsh ishe cream cone I've sheashten!" Because of Lee's disheartening habit of eating with mouth open, we all had a glorious view of Lee, his teeth, and the workings of his ice-cream covered throat for fifteen minutes.
It was a class fieldtrip, where the teacher had decided the best way to learn about old day times was to go back to actual monuments or shrines where important battles took place. For the first half of the fieldtrip we toured the museum in assigned groups—Neji, Lee, Shikamaru and a girl who had burningly bright blue hair and a dorky smile plastered on her face were paired up with Maito-sensei and I (some teachers who had the day off volunteered to be guardians… Lee was overjoyed that Maito-sensei was his team leader).
After staring for thirty minutes straight at dusty century-old samurai swords and masks, we finally headed outside to go look at some famous shrine down somewhere in the country. To sum it all up, it was like sitting at a graveyard for another hour before the teacher declared that it was time for lunch.
We had all brought our own lunches: Neji with his chicken alfredo and sports drink, Shikamaru and his wrapped up Chinese-food lunchbox, Lee with a bottle of mineral water and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, the girl with something very soupy and I—I, with what should be known as the most horrendous invention on earth.
Lunchables.
"Take it!" Temari had screamed at me this morning as I rummaged frantically through the supplies in the fridge, looking for anything that would give me an excuse not to take the stupid little cardboard carton, "I bought it yesterday, its fine! What, feel embarrassed?" I didn't answer, and Temari exploded. "Gaara get your ass over here and take the stupid thing or you're going to be late!"
Thus, I had grabbed the lunchables in the end and had ended up trying to choke down some raw pizza-crust-cookie-thing with industrialized tomato sauce smeared on the top. The cheese had tasted like plastic and the pepperoni was even worse.
Neji took pity on me and gave me some chicken, which I thankfully used to wash down the crusty-lunchable-creation.
Who knew alfredo sauce plus pizza tasted good?
After lunch, the teacher then towed us to an ice cream shop in a historical district where blah war took place in blah and that is why blah was so blah important. Whatever. Information didn't even go through an ear and out another; it just bounced off my head and flew past me full speed. All that really mattered was the ice cream shop, and was what landed us (or me) in the situation we were in right now.
Neji moans, burying his face into his sleeve, distraught. Lee pauses from his maniacal slurping to look at the other boy. "What?"
"You're disgusting." Shikamaru says, flatly. Lee blinks slower. Maito-sensei, who, I swear, had just been dancing the Macarena to the ice cream song just a minute ago, zooms out of nowhere and cradles the other boy in his arms.
"Oh, Lee," He says, dramatically posing, "Do not feel so ashamed at your actions—it is thus only a minor part of every youth's life, and a mishap shall be conquered! Conquer, oh young spirit, conquer, and reveal the true meaning of youth!" He points a finger into the air, and, with a blinding smile, shouts, "Yosh!"
Lee, who had no idea what the older man was saying, repeated, "Yorsh!" In a slurred tone, of course, as he still had ice cream in his mouth.
I think Neji snapped right here.
He looks around for a napkin holder, finds one, snatches it, and places the thing right in front of the eccentric. Motioning with his hands, he says, "Say 'Ah'."
Lee, who is just a little more naïve then Naruto, looks puzzled and says, "Ah?" At this moment Neji firmly shoves a napkin into his mouth. The turtle-like boy's eyes bulged out a little in surprise, but had no more time to bulge further as Neji deftly takes a few more napkins out of the napkin holder and gets to work on cleaning Lee's face.
"…hate messes…" Neji's muttering under his breath as he wipes away stickiness from Lee's cheek, "…drives me up the wall… stupid Lee… never live this down…" After the initial shock of being gagged, Lee starts to giggle as Neji moves down as he cleans up the dribble-stains on his shirt.
"Neji—" He giggles oddly, trying to twist away, "—Tickles!"
Neji, who is rolling his eyes, glares murderously at all who is staring at him. Taking a towellete from his pocket, he finishes wiping the other boy's face. Lee's eyes pop open as the hot cloth meets his lips, and he howls, lurching backwards and ending up doing a sort of back flip head-first collision into the ground.
"Lee…" Neji says, dangerously angry, while the other boy picks himself up, "How much of a loser can you get?"
"Idiots," Shikamaru says under his breath as he finishes his mango sherbet, "Total idiots."
I don't say anything, but find it totally amazing how Neji handled the situation. Especially the fact that this was Lee we were talking about, here. The blue-haired girl is staring at me and I'm finding it chillingly creepy. I'm hoping to try to get out of here as fast I can, if only the teacher wasn't too busy laughing with his favorite students by that table near the window (Neji had briefly talked to him for five minutes before coming to join us). Shikamaru regards me with cool regard.
"You didn't call me." He says quietly. I absently shrug a little, sheepish because I had really, truly forgotten. My face remained pretty expressionless, however, despite what I felt.
"I've had a hectic week," I say smoothly, sipping my coffee ice cream milkshake with a newborn gusto, "And the more I think about it, the more I think… Dog boy—"
"Kiba"
"—Kiba should ask around if anyone got a letter, too."
Shikamaru raises an eyebrow in thought. "You think someone played the fake love letter trick on him and someone else?" I shrug.
"Possibly."
"You're impossible." I turn around to see Neji giving Lee his almighty-Hyuuga-glare-of-doom, "If you really want to get into the University you have to do better then just fool around and be spontaneous. Sure, you work hard…" The boy's eyes narrows, "But hard work is all for nothing if there's not a real goal to work for."
Lee's meeting the other's glare full-on, lip curled down in that turtle-like pout he was so known for. "I am aware already, Neji. I already have a goal in mind and I wish you would butt out of other people's business. It has nothing to do with you if I want to go to University or not." He pulled his chair out with an ear-piercing shriek and stomps, huffishly, out of the store.
Neji growls, "Hot-blooded loser," before swiveling his seat around and mixing his cake-batter sundae sulkily around in his bowl.
Everyone in the ice cream store, even some local dine-in customers, is staring at the pissed off Hyuuga. Only after he directs his anger at them with a glare they look away, talking to themselves in hushed voices.
I look around at everyone bouncing back to their normal lives as if what happened was an every day occurrence.
"Well," I sigh, cupping my face in my hands, "That could've been worse."
--
I walk into the kitchen, take the nearest spatula in hand and wham Kankuro hard on the head.
"OW!"
"Let me on the laptop."
"No!"
"Kankuro!"
I'm booting him in the head right now with a spatula trying to pry his butt of the seat and he's hanging onto the kitchen table with his life, one hand on the wood and another cradling his precious portable computer. The kitchen table creaks and groans, caught in-between the squabble-between-the-two-brothers-from-hell.
"Give!"
"No!"
"Why not?"
Kankuro lifts his head up, high and mighty, and, tight-lipped, declares, "I need it to read porn off the internet."
I stare at him with an incredulous look on my face, before finally landing a sound whack on his hand and taking the laptop.
"No!" I can hear Kankuro wail as I bring the thing to my room, "Porn-TV!"
"Dumbass." I mumble under my breath as I log off of my brother's account (his wallpaper was one of a girl without her shirt on looking flirtingly up at the camera) and onto mine. Made sense for Kankuro to be porn-obsessed, as well as acne-infested and having a serious BO problem.
I lean over and turn on my stereo system (I'm sitting on my bed), and sit, waiting for the laptop to load, contently listening to one of my many favorite bands (Slipknot!).
My wallpaper, which was tastefully of a picture taken when Naruto, Neji, Sasuke and I went off to a friends-only trip to the hot springs where Naruto was on top of me flinging the 'victory' sign to the camera while Neji's toes can barely be seen the background, hums gently onto the screen. I log in to my email account (crimsonraccoon AT yahoo . com (1)) and, deducing that all the things in my inbox were either prank-emails from fellow classmates who thought it would be fun to scare the 'emo kid' or from sex-porn websites that were inviting to me group orgies, I click on the little button that said 'compose' and got ready to send an email.
From: crimsonraccoon AT yahoo. com
To: emptybird77 AT yahoo. com
Message: hey neji wats up? heh, kidding, nothing much. just mailing you about the whole BOB thing… naruto's going crazy, he's emailing me all this crap and stuff about how we need to get ready and blah. he said he wants me to start writing up a composition for the competition (rhymes… sort of,ha) so yeah I'm attaching the thing right now click 'attactment' and you shoud find it…the theme this year is supposed to be 'love hardships' and some other cliché thing like that so think along those lines when you're writing the lyrics… naruto wants to get a new t-shirt design too but I told him it'd be too much effort for you and he said 'nothing's too much effort for neji-boy!' and I was like blah… (there's no spell check on this stupid thing so my spells and stuff is all messed up… don't even both to try and correct me with your OCD or I'll smack you)
I send the message and wait a while for the other boy to respond. Turning my music on louder, I feel satisfied when Kankuro starts shouting at me from the kitchen to 'shut the damn thing off I can't think straight!' as I stare out the window.
Finally, a reply comes.
From: emptybird77 AT yahoo. com
To: crimsonraccoon AT yahoo. com
Message: The Battle of the Bands is at the KCC on the 26th, right? Don't worry about the lyrics, I've already come up with a sketch of what it'd be like (I read the pamphlet last week; I do keep up with news, you know). You're right, it is a little too much for me to come up with four new t-shirts for everyone in the group, but I can hand you a sketch and you can give it to Shika, ok? He's a pretty decent artist, once he gets his lazy bum up to do some work. Want to talk on the phone? It's a lot faster then typing.
Just as I finish reading that last sentence the phone rings. I can hear Temari cursing as she trips on the broom on her way to answering the phone (useful mirror working again). Picking it up, she says the standard 'hello, who is it' thing, pauses, then shouts, "Gaara!"
Sticking her head into my room, she sort of jiggles the phone, signaling my chance to grab it. Taking a hold of the cheap plastic receiver and screwing my face up into one of distaste at the putrid smell being wafted into my room from the kitchen, I say, "Hey Neji."
"Hello Gaara. How was Naruto today?"
Straight to the how-is-your-relationship-with-Naruto-and-damn-it-if-I'm-letting-you-keep-this-all-to-yourself questions.
"He was ok. He bounced back pretty well from the whole discovering-make-out thing, but I think he's being a little conscious around me, now. He was sort of like 'Hey Gaara are you alright,' and 'Gaara, let's play a game' or 'you want to have some of my noodles'? You didn't go to school today either! I thought you got over the I'm-so-depressed-because-Lee's-the-prince-so-I'm-going-to-go-sulk thing."
"I am. I was absent today because Hinata-sama just decided to finally get her period today."
"Wait, which one's Hinata again?"
"The older cousin. Anyways, she had just been thinking that she was maybe half boy and the she'd never have kids and all that stuff when suddenly I find her, at my door, two in the morning tears streaming down her face wailing that she was dying. After getting her some sanitary napkins and assuring her she wasn't dying, I logged on my PC and showed her some websites about the menstrual cycle and crap…"
"Neji, you fiend! You got your cousin onto porn!"
I can hear him lightly chuckle on the other end, "Oh, ho, funny. She's better now, but she was too afraid to go to school because she just knew she'd bleed through her pants the first time and my uncle ordered me to stay with her because he'd be out and there really would be no one home except for the servants, who don't count."
"Hm…" I get up from my room and poke my head into the hall. Kankuro had escaped into the study room once Temari revealed the contents of whatever she had been 'cooking' in the oven, and Temari was now attempting to make something of her mess. Quietly sneaking into the kitchen, I whisper, "Shikamaru wants me to find out who sent the letter to Kiba and he's been bugging the heck out of me. Any hints on this?" Opening the freezer door, I take out my precious cookie-dough ice cream, shut the door, and scurry back to my room.
Taking out my handy-dandy personalized spoon (seriously… it's a tarnished red and says 'Gaara' at the end, I swear), I dig into the ice cream (I don't really need a bowl since neither Temari nor Kankuro have the guts to eat my ice cream) despite warnings that I would get fat. I mean, I am concerned in getting fat, but, let's face it; it wasn't as bad as my love life or my social life in the least.
"Well… will you promise not to hold it against me if I tell you who it was?"
"As long as you don't hold my past against me, I'm fine."
"I'm the one who wrote the letter."
I spit my ice cream out and end up in a coughing fit when some ice cream made it half-way into my trachea. Neji waits in a frustratingly patient manner to regain my composure.
"I-I... I didn't know you liked Kiba."
I can just see Neji snap, "I don't like him."
"Then why'd you send that letter? Was it a prank?"
"No," Neji drawls out, deliberately, "I was playing the old fake-love-letter trick."
I cough. "Shikamaru and I thought so."
"Really?"
"Mm-hm. So, who were you trying to pair up?"
"You know."
"I know?"
Neji is silent on the other end of the phone for a while, before saying, in a more firm voice, "You know."
I didn't push it. Suddenly, a bright neon light pops up on my screen blaring out words of praises that the oh-so-mighty-Ramen-lover-XOXOXO-1 had arrived on IM. Tucking the receiver in the crook between my shoulder and neck, I log on to Yahoo! Instant Messenger and start my attempt to talk to Naruto.
"What are you doing?"
"Naruto just IMed me and I'm going to talk to him. Give me advice?" Neji always gave good advice. I mean real good advice that actually helps you, instead of some lame 'you'll get through it' thing that never does any good. If only he took his own advice, he wouldn't have half the problems he had now.
Raccoon: Hey Naruto
Ramen Lover XOXOXO 1: GAARA! I'M HYPER! HYPER! XD XD XD HPER!
Raccoon: Hyper?
Ramen Lover XOXOXO 1: SASUKE'S SLEEPING OVER TODAY HE GAVE ME CANDY NOT I CANT GO TO SLEEP HYPER HYPER HYPER HYP1PERS 1EHPS1!!!!111!!!!1111
Neji's voice breathes into my ear, "What's happening?"
"He's hyper," I breathe back, and I can hear Neji sigh, as if he'd expected Naruto's condition currently was somewhat on those lines. "What should I do?"
"Try to get him on a topic," The older boys whispers (why were we whispering?), "Talk about school, or ice cream, or ramen, or something. It'll lengthen the conversation and hopefully make him less hyper."
I type,
Raccoon: Why's Sasuke at your house?
Ramen Lover XOXOXO 1: HOME ECONOMICS PROJECT SO BORING TAPED STUFF TO POSTER BUT HYPER HYPER!11!11! LOTS OF CANDY HEH SASUKE TRIED DOING STUFF SO FUN HYPER! XD XD XD XD WHAT GOING ON THERE DRUNK?
Naruto was starting to scare me now. I say to Neji, "Uh… Sasuke's over Naruto's house…"
"What?" Neji suddenly roars into my ear and the phone almost slips from its crook as I jolt in surprise, "Oh, damn!"
Saving the phone from its untimely doom, I look puzzled, "Damn what?"
"He's made another move!" Neji exclaims, using the voice he only possessed when his mind was trying to think in all directions all at once, "The playing field is evening up a bit… you just lost your advantage!"
I am even more perplexed, "…huh?"
Neji sighs, crossly, "Nah, whatever. You wouldn't understand."
At first I want to push him to brink, as the infuriating boy keeps way too many things to himself, but then decide to leave it. I'm such a nice guy, aren't I?
"Anyways," I say, continuing on my conversation, "He said he had a lot of candy and Sasuke 'tried to do stuff' and he was hyper and he is… drunk?"
"Oh… that's bad… Sasuke's probably three to five steps ahead of you now…"
Again with that cryptic language that I am obviously too dumb to understand. Growling, I reply to Naruto.
Raccoon: What's Sasuke doing right now?
Ramen Lover XOXOXO 1: SLEEPING ON COUCH AUNT TSUNADE WONT LET HIM IN ROOM HEH
Neji whispers, "Ask him if he's free on Saturday after band practice?"
"Why?" I whisper, confused.
"Just do it."
Raccoon: Are you free on Saturday?
Ramen Lover XOXOXO 1: YEAH EXCEPT FOR PRACTICE.
I stare questionably at the phone for advice before the realization that Neji couldn't read what's on the laptop screen hits me, and I slump over at my own stupidity. After recovering, I ask, shakily, "So he says he's free. Now what?"
"You totally owe me one for this, Sabaku," I can just imagine Neji smirking on the other line, "But I think I've just found two tickets to that band Naruto really likes…" I stare off in space (because I can't stare at Neji… who was fifteen miles away), gaping at nothing…
"…no…way…"
"Yes way! Ask him out!"
"What?"
"Ask him out! But don't be stupid and go 'will you go on a date…' so you better make it more casual, like 'hey I got tickets, do you want to go' ok?"
I stare off into space again.
"Neji… he's drunk… he won't remember…"
"I'll make him remember! Ask him out, now!"
I feel the side of my mouth twitch upwards in a sort of smirk or smile, "What, are you being aggressive all of a sudden?"
I can just see Neji tense up in defense, "I have manly pride too, Gaara. But this isn't about me; it's about you—ask him!"
"Ok, ok, I'm asking! Or typing! Or writing! Or—"
"Just do it!"
"Fine!"
Raccoon: I got tickets to your favorite band this Saturday! I only have two tickets and I thought you'd like to come with me?
Ramen Lover XOXOXO 1: COOL AWESOME SURE! WHEN?
"When?" I ask Neji.
"Seven forty-five to ten."
Raccoon: 7:45 PM to 10:00 PM, cool?
Ramen Lover XOXOXO 1: GREAT! MEET YOU AFTER PRACTICE!
/beep/
Ramen Lover XOXOXO 1 has logged off.
I sigh in relief, realizing I had been unconsciously holding my breath. I can hear Neji's voice say, "Did he accept? Did he accept? Gaara? Gaara?"
I ignore him for a while, though, and think back on what just happened. It wasn't the best way I had imagined first asking Naruto out, but then, I was amazed I had actually achieved asking him out.
"GAARA!"
"He said yes," I snap, and the other boy sounds smug.
"See? I told you, you should've asked him out! I'll give you the tickets tomorrow during Drama, ok?"
"Hm mm…" I log off my account and wait for the screen to turn blue again, "Hey Neji…"
"What?"
"Why didn't you go with Lee to the concert?"
There is silence at the other end of the phone, and Neji says, quietly, "I guess I was too chicken, then."
"Neji…"
He sighs. "Just let it go, Gaara. Have a nice time on Saturday and if I hear you two didn't end with a slobbery kiss I'll go up to your house and pummel you to pieces." Before I can answer, he hangs up, leaving me with the dead tone of the receiver hanging in the air.
--
Temari hasn't come home yet and Kankuro is trying to burp the ABC's.
"A," He belches, lips wavering at the force in each gassy outburst, hand on his stomach, "B, C, D…" I stare at him with my brow furrowed in a disgusted, unbelievable manner. How was I related to this guy again?
The kitchen was dimly lit, as the lamp above the kitchen table had just decided to shatter the moment before Temari's precious 'Yuki' was to come over to visit, sending my blonde sibling in a fit of hysteria. After hurriedly grabbing her purse and applying messily-done makeup (her mascara had smeared onto her eye shadow and her lips were over-glossed) she told us she'd be back in a second and flew off to buy another light bulb.
Did it ever occur to her that we already had a full supply of light bulbs at home already?
However, I hate to admit; I wasn't tall enough to reach the lamp without crouching on the table, which wasn't such a good idea as the thing was decades old and threatened to break at the weight of just a measly ten pounds. Kankuro, who was tall enough, was too busy burping to use his brain.
"—M, N, O, P," Kankuro's struggling now, face turning purple as he's trying to summon more bubbles of gas from his over-gaseous stomach, "Q-Q, R, S, T-T…"
I groan in frustration, getting up from the table and fetching my bike-helmet from the musty-smelling closet by the door. Kankuro stops at his little gassy exploitation and says, suspiciously, "Where're you going?"
"Out," I answer shortly. Taking a step outside the flat, I firmly shut the door in his face, knowing full well he'd never go after me. Neither of my siblings ever did.
Looking from the outside of my flat, I observe the surroundings: a clean, white-washed building standing two stories tall. Dirty, dust-shrouded windows stood blearily out from the clean walls, some filled with murky green curtains, or, like ours, white, plastic shades. The doors were all painted a monotonous shade of gray with our room number at the top, and several trees stood hovering over the window ledges, branches full of dark, cropped green leaves. Our joke of a garden stood next to our doorstep, bunches of violets here and bunches of daisies here. Most of it was infested with dandelions, though, so it wasn't much of a sight.
The flat still looks exactly the same as it did five years ago, the day Baki drove up to our new home and ushered us out of the car.
Temari was a hell of a lot shorter then, standing up to Baki's shoulder at her highest, and had been dressed in a drab purple dress and white stockings. Why had she been wearing white stockings again? I don't really remember.
"Is this where we're going to live?"
Baki nodded, putting a hand in a sort of comforting way around her shoulder. Kankuro had his hands stuffed moodily in his pockets, eyes downcast, as he stood fidgeting as far away from me as possible. I myself had stood next to the car, barely registering the information being presented to me at that time. Shukaku was still in the car, however, because he said he didn't trust the house. He never trusted anything except me, though.
"I know it looks dirty now" Baki said in a low, quiet voice, "But the point is to try to make it look like home. The home you three never got to have." Tears welled up in Temari's eyes and she looked down so that our sensei couldn't see her sadness. Kankuro shuffled from one foot to the other, muttering things as he twiddled his fingers in anxiety.
The two brats actually missed our family-abandoning father. They missed the man who had left us in the care of a lawyer not related to us at all in the slums of Suna, while he himself sat probably eating caviar all day in that posh mansion of his in the middle of the city. They missed the man who had refused to come visit even when our mother lay in bed, dying of some illness that had been my entire fault.
They missed the man who had just died without a worry and hadn't even left his will in some appropriate place where people could find it. They missed the man who had unintentionally caused Baki to move us to Konoha, in fear that my father's rivals would go out of their way to try to murder one of us in hopes of leaving Suna Tech without an heir.
How I hated that man. I stared coldly at the floor as Baki instructed Temari to remove the bags from the trunk and help him carry them to our new flat. Shukaku had slipped through the car doors and was quietly curled around my foot. He had no words to say today.
"Hey, brat," Kankuro called out defiantly, though his heart hadn't been into it, "Pick up your stuff and get it into the damn house already." I sneered in his general direction and casually slung my luggage over my shoulder as I followed my two siblings.
The flat had been entirely empty, with nothing but an old kitchen table, an outdated sofa and some termite-infested bookshelves to decorate the hollow interior. Baki encouraged us to find a room as he himself took the one next to the kitchen, dropping his things on the ground and sitting on the floor, cross-legged. He did it only when he was planning a design, and he was probably skimming over his options about refurnishing the place within the budget.
I neither wanted nor cared about any room, as I could easily live on anywhere, even outside, if I wanted. It wasn't like I actually slept. Shukaku clucked at me in agreement, as he observed the white walls. Chuckling, he crackled,
What beautiful, pure walls, perfect to destroy, demolish, soil with red, isn't it? To rip apart the crusted plaster and mix it with fine red liquid, panting rainbows in blood at the wall, yes, good, go along with it, it's fine, persuade Baki, kill Baki, rip Baki to pieces…
I tried to stop him but he dodged my hand, clucking as he bit my hand as punishment. I stare at the oozing blood on my finger blankly, without emotion, as Shukaku cackled maniacally,
Never escape, can't escape, I'm a part of your life, a part of you, yes a part of you, you can never get rid of me, get rid of me, get rid of me, fool don't even try, I'm a part of you, you really like me don't you? Don't you? You like the blood, the smell, the excitement of the kill? Don't' even try…
Shakily getting up from my position on the floor, I had crawled to the closest empty room available, which was the one straight across the hall from the kitchen. It was small, only about ten by fifteen feet and had a single pair of windows staring out above the street below. Baki had returned from his out-of-the-world-thinking and was wandering from room to room asking what we wanted.
Temari, who had obviously been crying judging from those ugly streak marks on her cheeks, sniffed and mumbled something about wanting the walls purple and the wooden line white and she didn't really care about the bed except that she wanted lots of coverlets. Konoha was freezing cold, especially since we'd just come from Suna, which had been situated in the desert. Unused to the unbearable chill, Temari had also worn a thick black parka over her dress, Kankuro had on at least three hoodies and I myself had reluctantly decided to wear a maroon jacket over my blank tee.
Kankuro had wanted some new black clothes and a bucket of black paint to not paint the walls, but to paint murals and writings all over the ceiling. "Why?" Baki had demanded in his commander-voice.
"It helps me get through it," Kankuro had answered quietly, arms stuck straight to his side, "So I don't have to hear her voice at night anymore."
Needless to say, Baki let him have his black paint, and let Temari have her white and purple paint, but he wouldn't let me have the red paint.
I narrowed my eyes at his refusal, Shukaku bristling next to me, arms crossed. "Why not let us take the red, the red, and paint the walls like blood?"
"Exactly." He said, as if it was all explained in what I had just said, "Now tell me something that is at least sane please."
In the end after an hour of not letting me have several things, like handcuffs and more knives, he finally allowed me to get a desk and, amazingly, a stereo system. Our family (if you counted Baki) was more then poor and couldn't afford that many things, especially concerning technology. The only time we received any form of technological entertainment was that one time our father sent us gifts in bulk—Christmas.
Most of the time he just sent Temari a new CD that she didn't even like (she would slip it into my room as bribes to not kill her), Kankuro, a Game Boy game (Kankuro never plays Game Boy games anymore, and, instead, sells them to EB Games and uses the money to buy more necklaces and bling-bling), and me, an iDog. He always sent iDogs to me when he was still alive.
For each year, a different color, even though I already hissed at him more then once with the help of Shukaku that I liked Red, and I only liked Red and damn it if I liked another color so stop sending them to me! That is why, now, I have a whole shelf of the little things, including some iCats and an iFish sent during those years where the iPod company failed to produce another iDog color.
Note he gave me these things years before Baki bought me my first iPod for my birthday. Stupid Dad.
I had sat reluctantly on the floor as the movers struggled to fit four skinny twin beds into the twice as skinny doorframe, contemplating my life as it was going to be. Normally I would have spent hours thinking ways to kill and mince my fellow classmates, but after 'promising' Temari not to kill, I just thought about what I should do.
Shukaku was not so happy about this.
Kill them, here in the room, steal the handcuffs, cuff them to the bed and hear them shriek, shriek so lovingly as you rip into their skin—their-skin—
Stop.
Shukaku stared at me in moment of defiance, and I stared back.
And then it began-- five years ago, in my room, marked the beginning of my struggle for dominance and freedom against a demon that I had so innocently created myself, ten years before.
--
I walk aimlessly down our street, and then back up again, in contemplation. I didn't really know where to go, except taking my bike and driving to Neji's. However, I'd already filled up my mileage limit for the week, with all that driving to Neji's house and then to work and then to the psychiatrist (I chose not to walk there for fear of getting lost again), and I really didn't want to get in trouble with the justice system again.
Speaking of work, I lodge it into my head it would be splendid idea to visit my workplace and maybe catch a glimpse of Naruto in the process. Stuffing my hands in my jacket-pockets, I briskly stride down the street into the No-Man's Marketplace in search of the little blonde. It was around that time of day, too, that he would be having lessons.
The marketplace is bustling, but not crowded, and I easily maneuver my way through the groups of shoppers and duck underneath a large sign that welcomed everyone to Namiki Market Square (the official name, though everyone calls it No-Man's Market anyways). Strolling down beyond the preppy fashion boutiques, I find myself at Konoha Music Industries. Slinking in, I enjoy the sound of contemporary rock filtering through the speakers, and bow habitually to Anko-san, who just looks at me blearily through sleep-deprived eyes. To those wondering how I just discovered a new name, she's wearing a nametag. I cock my head to the side pityingly—the poor woman usually didn't look so down unless she was in one of her no-money-too-much-work-hungry-sleep-deprived stages, which happened about once every three months.
Taking off my shoes before the practice rooms, I slipped into Room 7 and spot Naruto right away.
I really appreciate this organization of musicians because they didn't believe in just playing classical—they encouraged playing more modern music that would actually let us earn our own living in the future by appealing the majority of the population (face it, how many people do you know who listen to classical all day and how many people do you know listen to rock, heavy metal, rap, or pop?). Konoha Music Industries is where Naruto, Sasuke, and Neji learned to play their various musical instruments since they were all children. I, however, learned to play the guitar from forcefully demanding Baki to teach me, and just worked here instead, teaching the kids how this string was a G and that string was an E and no! What are you doing!
Lessons often ended with me struggling to grab a broken string away from an overenthusiastic little brat and them trying to play guitar with it even if it was just a damn string if they broke it and didn't make any noise at all unless they whacked it against something.
"You have to think about articulation here," Hatake-sensei, says, bored, as he points out a mistake the younger boy had made in a particular measure, "If you quicken your pace too fast the piece sounds too rushed. Pay attention the piano sign here, it's supposed to be quiet, not ear-shriekingly loud." Naruto grits his teeth and mutters something incomprehensible under his breath, going backwards to where he made the mistake and replaying the measure.
Hatake-sensei notices me and gives a wink of recognition. I ignore him and sit, one foot resting on my knee, watching and listening to Naruto play.
Naruto didn't only play acoustic guitar—he also did drums (but not as good as Sasuke), violin, and, currently, piano. He only had one teacher, though—the one and only, lazy yet amazingly genius music prodigy Hatake Kakashi, whom his aunt and uncle had hired for him.
I admire Naruto as he plays.
His handsome, yet cute and still childish profile is set and concentrated on his piece. Light, fluffy-like spiked hair is half-combed back and yet still adorably messy at the same time. Beautiful blue eyes sparkled with quiet anticipation and determination, and his pink-tinted lips were pursed together as he messed up over and over again.
"Naruto," Hatake-sensei's voice is stricter, "Focus."
"I am focusing," The boy growled angrily, slamming his fingers against the piano in an obviously unfocused way. I sit quietly, basking in the pleasure that I got to watch Naruto without him realizing I was there.
He never realizes that I was there.
"Now, now," Hatake-san's eye curves up, as if he was laughing (I can never tell because he wears this scarf that covers most of his face), "Don't get angry. Angry clouds your judgment!" Naruto seems to bristle even more.
"Argh…" He looks pointedly at the clock positioned over the piano, "Time's up, Kakashi-sensei. I've got to go." Abruptly standing, he packs his books into his bag and stomps off without once looking my way. I stare at Hatake-san, who stares back and shrugs.
"He's very hot-tempered, that one," The man says off-handedly, "But he's a pretty good musician. Why are you here, Gaara? You're off today."
"I'm bored," I answer shortly, getting up as well, "So I came to watch Naruto."
"Ah…" His eye curves upwards again in a smile, "Young love, eh? Got to tell Iruka about this one…"
"You aren't telling Umino-san anything," I snap a little too defensively, "Keep my workplace and my psychological findings separate, please." I leave too, then, sighing as I wonder where to go next.
Seeing that I didn't have much time left anyhow since Temari was probably running around screaming because she couldn't find me now, I decide to pick up a smoothie from Jamba Juice (copyrighted) and walk back home.
--
"H-he s-said I-I—" Temari wails, tears streaming down her face and all over her white skirt, smearing her makeup, "I-I--- he s-said h-he did-dn't w-want to s-see me an-any m-moooooore!" That last word came out as a heart-wrenching wail and she clings tight to Kankuro, sobbing hard into his shoulder and smearing mascara all over his black hoodie. He doesn't notice though, just grips her in a sort of soothing way and try to comfort her.
"Now, Ne-chan, its ok, its fine, it's not the end of the world… Maybe he didn't mean it and he's coming ba—"
"H-he's n-not coming b-baaaaaaack!" Temari coughs and gulps, then starts wailing again, "H-he e-even told m-me I c-could keep the r-riiiiiiiiiing!"
Right now I want to take my switchblade, track down Shinichirou Yuki and chop him into a million, tiny little pieces. As much as I imagined chopping up my older siblings when I was younger, I still hated to see them, especially Temari, cry. And, Kankuro and I being rather protective younger siblings, because of this it was our duty to go track him down and bring him to justice.
Except the fact that Temari just sobbed harder when we told her what we were going to do.
"I-I st-still loooooooooove him," She cries, and Kankuro goes to get some more tissues for her runny nose and smeared makeup, "I-I d-don't want to huuuuuuuuurt him b-but he h-hurt m-me f-f-f-fi—" Here she just breaks down in sobs, words totally incomprehensible as she's leaning on Kankuro's shoulder again, "W-waaaaaaah!"
I'm starting to feel panicky. I don't know what to do—when Baki was still here, it was his job to calm Temari down. Since she was the eldest, it was always her duty to protect and comfort us, and so we really weren't used to it being the other way around.
I consider my options, and, cringing, pick the one that seems the safest.
"I'm going to call someone over," I inform Kankuro, who looks like he wants to argue but can't because of a certain sobbing, hair messed-up blonde who has a death grip on his left arm.
Picking up the phone, I dial (854)-224-0245 and wait for someone to pick up.
Finally, a drab voice comes out from the other end of the phone line, "Hello?"
"Hey," I say, shakily, glancing at Temari's shaking form with nervousness, "Temari's sobbing her heart out here because her fiancé just dumped her and Kankuro and I don't know what to do. Can you come over and pick her up? Please?"
There is silence on the other end of the phone. I wait for him to reply, and, after a sigh, he says, "Ok, ok, just stay there, alright? I'm on my way."
Putting the phone down in relief, I sit next to my older sister and awkwardly try to stroke her back, "Ne-chan, someone's on their way to make you feel better ok? So just… just…" Kankuro stares at me and I try to come up with some words, "Just wait here?"
We waited in dead silence interrupted by hiccups and sobs wracking Temari's body, until, finally the silence was broken.
The doorbell rang.
--
(1) :: Stupid FFnet doesn't let me use the 'AT' symbol...
Author's Notes: ANOTHER CHAPTER FINISHED! Who is the person knocking on the door? (Ok, so he's ringing the doorbell, but same concept) Lol to reviewers! I love you all! (hugs) Do you want marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate or ramen. GO RAMEN! XD I'm working on the next chapter! I'm actually almost finishing this thing OO. Heh...