I am chained to the bed stand. Cold, biting handcuffs piercing my wrists, tying them together, forever, a binding agreement that I have not consented to, as I writhe on the floor in agony. Where? Why? How? Dammit, I have to get out for goodness' sake and if there is a God please help me

Steps. Dark, pattering, hollow, the shuffling of a lab coat and maybe the cling of a smile. Everyone tells me that there are no sounds to smiles, that smiles don't make noise. But they are wrong. I can hear the smile. No one can tell me I can't hear it.

Pitter-patter. I am writhing harder, faster, I want to get out, get out, dammit, let me go, the pattering is coming faster—the door opens, a hand, a dark cold hand, on the door knob, that cling, cling, cling of a smile, stretching upon a cruel face as I open my mouth and—

--

Breaking the Music

By FlightAngel

--

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, but I do own this story: so you steal, I kill

--

There is a time and a place where all siblings must confront each other with tedious questions following the lines of: "What is the meaning of life?", "How can I be a better person?", "I want to have sex but I don't know how" and, "What is sex?"

Being that I am already seventeen and Kankuro may or may not be twenty (he might be nineteen… I don't remember) we are, as brothers go, late bloomers in this region. Things such as murder, insanity, polar opposite personalities and other things might have contributed to this, but even so, we were late. Very late. Opening up and talking about inner secrets is probably not one of the things on Kankuro's list of "things-to-do".

"Uh… um…" Kankuro's face has turned a very funny shade of white, his hands in his mouth as he starts to bite his nails with merciless persistency, looking this way and that, knowing full well that there was no way to escape the situation beside jumping out the closed window and killing himself on the concrete pavement. He slowly gets up from his laid-back position and sort of curls up in a little ball in the corner of the bed, opposite of me, where I just continue to smile at him. I find my smile unnerves people.

"So, Kankuro…" I tilt my head, copying the countless numbers of psychiatrists and psychologists that have come before me to try and "cure" my illness, the way they smiled their fake smiles and nodded their fake nods, their cold eyes looking at my form, thinking only of the money, the way they would pronounce every word clearly like I am doing now, "What has school life been like, nowadays?"

"G-good…"

"Like what? What did you do yesterday?"

"Had fun."

"Had fun where? I can't help you if I don't know what's going on, Kankuro. Let's start in the morning. After you woke up, you did what?"

"Gaara," Kankuro is staring at me, pupils large enough to see the deepness of the green there, "Gaara, stop that, that's just scary."

"What's scary?"

"T-that voice! Have you finally gone over your head? You sound like one of your frickin' shrinks for God's sake!"

"Now, now," I reprimand him, having way too much fun teasing him, "There are some people out there who are against using the Lord's name in vain, Kankuro. I suggest you go and be more considerate of others by stopping small habits like these. Then, I am sure; you will be able to make more friends at your university." Kankuro suddenly lurches forward and tackles me.

Seeing that I have been tackled by my brother at least four times today and that in itself should be considered "improvement" because five years ago the most he would do was grab me by the collar, I felt, oddly, too lazy to fight back. Instead, I landed with crash onto the wall next to his pillow, hissing a bit before finding myself suddenly covered with blankets. Before I can even mention the oddness of the situation, I find more and more coverlets piled on top of me, Kankuro being the one that is suffocating me, until there is black. Just black.

"Kankuro," my voice sounds muffled, even to me, "Kankuro, what are you doing?"

"Killing you." is the sound reply. There is silence.

"Why?"

"You're being insane. I have to exterminate you before you start killing people again."

"I won't."

"How would I know?"

"I won't. Now let me out."

"No."

"What would Temari say if she found out you'd suffocated me?"

"She'd be happy."

A pause.

"Why?"

"You'd be out of the way. You won't ever have the chance of killing people anymore. All those people who you've destroyed will finally get their revenge. You deserve to die."

I think Kankuro has gone over the edge. Not only is he being extremely immature, he is also being accusing in a manner that I find twitchingly annoying. I feel my own fury chill my skin until I am sure this body of mine is not mine any longer, instead, a cold figurine of ice that has been swallowed by anger. My eye twitches, once.

"I don't believe that."

Yes, I do— I fear it, on some level. I've always feared it, somewhere, some layer, deep inside my heart that my siblings actually feel nothing for me and that I am a nuisance, a bug that needs to be squashed. However, the way Kankuro says it makes me want to be like a child and retort back, defiantly, with all the real reasons I know why he is definitely wrong. Real reasons I know why I shouldn't fear it.

"Really? What are you going to do?"

"I don't believe that. I know you don't believe it either. Temari's been trying too hard to put this family together to just suddenly welcome a death of one of her little brothers. I won't kill people, so let me out."

"If you want to get out, fight me."

Anger, flicking onto the surface, slithering into my voice. "I'm not fighting you."

"Why not? If you don't, you'll die."

"Let me out, Kankuro. I'll kill you later."

"You said you won't kill people. And I'm not letting you out."

"I'm 'kidding', you idiot. It's a waste of energy for me to fight when you can just easily lift off the covers, saving us both a lot of energy and time."

"Nope. Die, die, die."

"Kankuro."

I know for sure that I can easily throw off the sheets and pummel Kankuro into the bed stand, being that I am very literally stronger then he is and the blankets weren't really that heavy. I also know that I can't die inside the coverlet mountain anyways because that idiot of a brother isn't even pushing down on top of me. I still have ventilation.

In other words, I can stay here forever. But I wanted to get out because it was so damn hot in here and I really didn't feel like beating my brother to a pulp. I used too much energy wrestling with him, laughing, getting tackled and submitted to bouts of chase-the-Kankuro to get up right now. Besides, this way I get the bed. And unless Kankuro wanted to sleep with me tonight, he could just go and rot on the floor for all I care.

"Kankuro."

"Yup?"

"I hate you."

"That's nice. I hate you too."

"I hate you so much that I am willing to slice your body in five pieces using Temari's new kitchen knife and hang your leftovers on the University flag stand for everyone at school to see."

"…really?"

"If you don't let me out now."

A pause.

"You serious?"

I shift a little, feeling Kankuro's knee at about where my own was. Swiftly hooking his leg with mine under a layer of covers, with a yelp from the surprised man, I answer, "Yes. Now."

I feel the blankets come off my back and I crawl out, hair mussed and tangled, Kankuro sitting on his floor of trash staring out the window, frowning. Don't ask me how he managed to get from "landing onto floor" to "sitting onto floor" because I seriously do not care. Instead, I decide that I should pursue my sick curiosity for knowledge and lay down beside him, peering upwards because with my body strewn onto the floor like this, he looks like a giant.

"Have you ever done drugs before?"

"…what?"

I glance at him from an angle, purposely highlighting my face with the dim, dim light that created more shadows then light now. I have way too much fun accenting my gestures with these odd "effects". Ha. "You know… weed… coke… meth…"

"I know what drugs are," he snaps in guilty annoyance, reaching up to bite his nails again, "I was just surprised. Uh… let's see…" He starts counting off fingers, "I tried weed in middle school… did it for a week and quit because it smelled so bad. Did coke in sophomore year and decided that it hurt too much… meth just makes me feel funny… E gives me a headache… and yeah. I've tried lots of them but never stuck."

"I'm surprised that you didn't get addicted." True. I never really pinned my brother down as a druggie but yet, here I am, hearing about his druggie adventures in his teenage years, which never really led anywhere but still. "And after all that you picked up smoking?"

"I'm not addicted," he declares defiantly, though his fingers twitch near his pant leg as if aching to pull out a cigarette and light it. Which I will never let him do because not only do I despise the smell of cigarette smoke but I also know I could cancer from second-hand smoking. If it wasn't for that I'd let Kankuro smoke to his heart's content, though I know in a few decades he'd probably be lying on some hospital bed with four cancers in his lungs. Ha.

Ok, that wasn't funny, but I think about my siblings dying too often in so many scenarios I try to make it as enjoyable as I can. Kankuro twitches again before turning towards me, face large and bulky in the light. I know my sibling wasn't all that in shape but all his out-of-shape-ness is essentially highlighted in the rays. Not that he is fat or anything, it's just that… mm… I've never been good with words. Let me just create an example instead.

I have to ask Temari to never ever let Kankuro take a school photo in blue light. Ever.

"You?"

I sort of bristle. "Me what?"

"You do drugs?"

"Nope."

A thin silence that radiates "impending doom". I don't even know why I'm angry. If Temari was any lesser being that did not know that certain things pissed me off real bad, she'd tell me I was acting like some bipolar PMSing girl who clawed every man that she liked and got in the way. And as Kankuro is subconsciously under my "not kill" list (in my world "not kill" is almost the same thing as "people I like", even if I insist that it is totally not true) he is going to be clawed.

Badly.

"…not even once?"

This brunette needs to buy a zipper and learn how to zip up his mouth at the right times. Even if installing a zipper onto his lips would be extremely painful and bloody, I can just tell him it makes the girls swoon. If girls liked guys with knobby white things on their lips that might potentially catch in their teeth when they tongue. That would just turn a make-out session inside out, what with all the blood and the zippers and the fluids…

Ok. Train of thought ended. I seem to be losing my sanity-of-thought much more frequently for the past several days, for various reasons. It's either Kankuro is rubbing off on me or I need to get back on my meds.

Claws are extending.

"No."

"Oh."

More silence, where I try to calm myself down by thinking of Lee in one of Neji's dresses (Neji owns dresses… he insists they are for his acting but I am seriously thinking he is growing a girly fetish…) dancing the Macarena covered in mud. Not. Working. Kankuro scratches the back of his head.

"So… Gaara."

I try not to sound like I'm growling, which I do when I get insanely pissed off to the point of no return. "What?" The other man scoots away from me, quivering. He is probably somewhere on the edge of "Gee, let's treat Gaara as if he is a normal human being" and "Freak, he's gonna kill me, he's gonna kill me, he's gonna kill me!" I know I shouldn't be on the verge of insane-PMSing right now. It really wouldn't contribute any good to "brother bonding" time, after all. I sigh, gulp that growling snarl down my throat and struggle to regain composure.

"Ok, ok. I won't kill you. What?" Ok, so that didn't come out exactly nice, either. Better then chewing his head off, though. My older brother sort of does a twirl around his mound of stuff and fiddles with his fingers.

"Is there some obscure question in the universe that you've always been wanting to ask me?" Kankuro asks me in a small voice. I stare at him. He stares back.

"…" I look up, look down, look sideways in a way that means that I was fully considering the extremities of his question, though I had already formed an answer. Sighing, I sit up so that I about as tall as he is, maybe a few centimeters shorter, hunching over and seeing that the sun has finally set. Pitch black. Darkness.

Damn.

I sit there, silent, for a good minute or two. Not that I had any qualms freaking out in front of my brother like I did with Neji; it was just that I was very sick and tired of randomly flying in and out of consciousness when I could be doing much more useful things with my time instead. Finally squashing the fear down into the back of my throat, I try to say something but my voice is throttled. Clogged. Stuck-in-my-throat and won't come out. Stupid fear. I can't speak.

"Gaara?"

"…"

"Gaara—" I can just feel his eyes drill into me. "Oh. Oops. Here, I'll—"

Click.

Light. Brilliant, warming light, smoothly gliding over my stand-on-end red hair, crackling with my tension, large green orbs-for-eyes, skinnier-then-normal body cloaked in a dark maroon t-shirt and some cargo pants (Kankuro and I had randomly picked up clothes some time during our prison stay… these clothes belonged to Kankuro, but as I often borrow my siblings' clothes anyways, it had a familiar sense of belonging to it) highlighting the ghost of shadows on my lips, hands, legs, flushed my mind of fear and caused me to sag with relief.

"Gaara?"

A poke. I don't mind. I'm good with poking. When the obtrusive finger comes again I spin around, catch it with an agile hand that has no trouble grabbing little pointy objects coming my way, and say, quite blatantly, "I want to talk about sex."

A pause, as Kankuro digests the information.

"Uh… ok. But let go of my finger."

I make a move as if I was about to release the little wiggling thing, but, after some consideration, decide to put it in my mouth instead. Just to see what he'd do.

"……" Kankuro just sits there and stares. I bite down. Hard.

"AAAAAAAAAGH!" Snapping the mortally wounded appendage out of my blood-thirsty mouth, he cradles it against his chest and stares at me. "Vampire!"

"Druggie."

"Shut up! Twig!"

"Fatty."

He gives me a look of outrage, "It's not fat, it's muscle."

"Right." I give him a look that I have yet to give a name and then sit up again. "Sex."

"Ah." He scratches his head, a little sheepish, "That." Pause.

Brotherly bonding definitely came too late for us. How is this supposed to start? Breaking out and suddenly sobbing into each other's arms because of our failing love life? Kankuro twirls around a little, sit up, and flattens himself against the bed, face down, into the covers so that all that is visible is the back of his magically appearing clothes (we all had pulled on our clothes sometime during our prison stay… I'm not sure when) and his mop of brown hair.

"Gaara," he says, muffled, "remember the time I showed you that porn?"

I roll my eyes heavenwards, "Yes. How can forget?"

"You were… fourteen… I think. Haku had just lent me Zabuza's 'XXX house' video he'd gotten the other day and I dragged you into it somehow…"

I look at him over my shoulder. "You scarred me for life. I hope you're happy."

"You were already scarred for life. Watching a few orgies won't kill you."

"…mm hm."

I glare at him. "Are you avoiding the 'sex' topic?"

"Like the plague."

"Why?"

"Well," Kankuro kindly removes his head from the bed sheet and turns it around so he is now facing me, "If you truly, truly, truly, like someone you wouldn't care about sex, would you? The best way to learn about it is hands-on experience, you know." I quirk my brow at him and my lips twitch a little.

"Did my brother just say something meaningful? Someone call the newspaper!"

Kankuro looks vaguely annoyed, "If that's your sad attempt to make a joke, it's not working, Gaara. Sometimes I really do wish you were like what you were before."

"Why?"

"'Cause back then you were too cool to make corny jokes and wrestle with me on the floor and kick me off the couch because you wanted to watch TV and get beaten about Temari and accompany me to Eegees and understand jokes and use sarcasm and try to have fun and go to amusement parks and kiss girls." He gasps for breath, "You were also too cool to go with us to the beach and to the park and to the closest city and too cool to eat sweets like any normal person and too cool to talk to anyone and even too cool to get sick."

"I haven't gotten sick once in two years," I remind him. "I've just got a killer immune system."

He pauses.

"Yes… but still…"

"How were those bad things?" He looks at me (or the back of my head, at least) as I tug a piece of string from one of Kankuro's atrocious mounds and twirl it around my index finger, "According to Temari… she says that all those things were just steps towards us becoming a better family." I look back at him, green to… dark green, "And that's what she wants, right? For us to be a better family?"

Kankuro fearlessly holds my interrogating gaze for a good moment, without being scared as I wasn't glaring at him or anything— just looking at him—and then turns away. "Y'know Gaara, I just realized that you're just like a little kid sometimes." I twitch. "You're always acting kind of tough on the outside, you know, unbeatable and strong, but on the inside, you're really someone who needs lots of comforting. And you're real naïve, too." I twitch again. Say that to my face one more time, bastard, runs through my head, and brother or not, you will find yourself up on the roof ball-less for the whole world to see.

Kankuro, who, along with Temari, has trained himself to read through my expressions, must have caught my murderous intent because he gulped and tried to calmly say what he wanted to say without peeing in his pants.

"A-and you're always doing that kind of stuff and it's not like Temari and I don't do that kind of stuff either it's just that we've accepted the fact that we're human and we make mistakes all the time but you, you just always act so aloof and inhuman that whenever you do make some sort of mistake or sound childish it comes out real obvious you know." He starts chewing his fingernails, index, middle, ring, pinky, index middle, ring, pinky, single file, neat and organized, "Plus, we—Temari and I—know a lot of stuff too. Like the will."

I raise my brow. "You knew?"

"Yeah, we knew! Baki called us a week after they found it and told us everything… he also told us you're going to be the next CEO of Dad's company. Dude!" He stares at me, "I know you're pretty smart when it comes to music and tech, but seriously¸ you're only… seventeen! I think that the company's safest now, with Uncle leading and everything…"

I furrow my brow.

"…uncle?"

He stares at me in disbelief, "You don't know? We have an Uncle! His name is… Yasha-something. We… you… really don't know him very well, so whatever. He took over right after Dad got killed… kind of like a regent you know? And when you finish your therapy sessions you can go and take your rightful place as the leader of the company…" I twitch again. Kankuro, being the odd person he is, reaches a hand out and touches my cheek. I twitch, three times.

"…is there something wrong with your face? Why are you twitching so much?"

Twitch. Twitch, twitch, twitch.

"…it's cold." Before the words even leave my mouth, I find the same coverlet that had been suffocating me earlier tossed across my shoulders.

"Liar. You just suffer from don't-touch-people-or-I'll-kill-you syndrome." I pull the coverlet down so it's snug around me, looking back as Kankuro yawns a little. "Our family's all messed up."

"You seem to be the only one that doesn't want to fix it."

"Nah, that's not it. It's not that I don't want to fix it, but I suffer from the same problem as you do." I cock my head to left. "I hate change. Even if it's for the better, I hate it anyways." He pauses. "Actually, it seems like we all hate change. We hate it so much we try to immerse ourselves in other things to draw our attention away from it."

I am quiet. Kankuro is being serious. He is being serious. Someone should really go and call the newspaper right now. No, I am being "sarcastic". Not God, I am so bad at it.

"I know we hide ourselves… it may not be obvious to you but I can see it clear as daylight…" He sort of shifts, the bed squeaking with his weight, "For some reason we're all more attracted to artistic things. Temari's obsessed with her photography—"

"She is?"

He snorts, as if I just asked some dumb question. I twitch and he shies away. "Yes. If you haven't noticed, she spends lots of her free time just sitting in the 'garden' taking pictures. She's obsessed with taking picture of the guys she likes too, so her entire wall is covered with pictures of Shikamaru…" Now that he mentions it, I remember, when I was younger—fourteen or so—walking home from school and seeing my sister poised articulately over a budding dandelion in the garden. After asking what she was doing and she, chasing me out of sight, I had forgotten the event.

I hadn't noticed when she swapped her store-bought cameras for a digital one. I hadn't noticed when she swapped that one for a professional. I hadn't even noticed when she turned the old broom closet into a dark room and spent the majority of her Saturdays trapped in there, refusing to come out…

Alright, so maybe I was a little on the oblivious side. But I had my own problems—love, sanity, and career-wise—so I really didn't have that much time to sit down and contemplate it all. Kankuro, on the other hand, has all the time in the world.

"Anyways, she's obsessed with her photography and you know I'm obsessed with my puppeteer-business and acting." He holds his hand in front of his face and looks at it curiously, "I know I'm too obsessed with drama… I mean, it sometimes feel like my whole entire life is one huge play."

I'm silent. True, to some extent. Everyone, in the world of business, is a puppet to another—the worker the puppet of the businessmen, the businessmen the puppet of their boss, the boss who is another puppet of the manager, who is the puppet of the CEO, who, in turn, is the puppet of God. That is how it worked. That is how it will always work, whether people liked it or not. Though not many people saw it that way.

"You—Gaara, you're obsessed with your music. Ok, so not much recently because of your… love interest," Kankuro twists his face into one of bland disgust, scared to go any further less I severely punish him for it, "But you literally hide yourself in that little shell of yours with your headphones on. I know it has something to do with… therapy…" Another word of taboo in this house. My stay at the therapeutic house in Springfield is never discussed at home. "So… in the end, we hide ourselves from changes because of these things…"

He is silent, brooding, and I look up at him.

"Got any more words of advice?"

"I'm being serious here, Gaara!"

"Good. I am too."

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" He looks at the ceiling as, Temari, who is without a doubt enjoying her quiet time without her screaming brothers in the other room, turns on the radio and starts playing some hip-hop, "I'm just trying to say this, ok. It's not that I don't want to have a stable family or anything but it's just that it's real hard because we're all too busy doing our own thing, avoiding the problem! So, if you really want to get this family back into shape…" Kankuro continues to look at the ceiling, biting his lip, "We have to break our habits. Break the photography, break the drama. Break the music."

He looks me square in the eye.

"We have to start breaking the music, Gaara."

I look at him, astonished.

"…Kankuro."

"…what?"

"That was really meaningful."

"…" He stares at me as if I had just grown two horns on my head and had just declared myself in incubus, mouth open, "Uh… thanks?" His eyes narrow. "Wait? What do you mean? Are you saying I don't usually say meaningful things?"

"Nope," I suddenly stand up, coverlet flinging so it (accidentally) grazes my brother's cheek. Peering at the clothes I had picked out for myself from Kankuro's closet—a dark maroon long-sleeve under a black t-shirt and navy jeans—I, fearless and completely tossing my pride and reputation away (reputation already in the garbage from our little talk, of course) stretch a bit and turn towards my brother, who is now cross-legged on the bed. "Kankuro."

"What?" is the small reply.

"Where're the Chevy keys?"

He peers at me suspiciously. "…in the kitchen. Why?"

Reaching over, I grab a very surprised black blob, drag him across the room, open the door, walk into the hallway, into the kitchen, where Temari looks at us surprised and slightly angry at me disobeying the rules, grab the keys, force shoes onto my and Kankuro's feet, put on our jackets and walk out the front door.

Just like that.

"Gaara?" Kankuro's voice is panicked and slightly squeaky as he looks back and forth, "Gaara! What are you doing? Oh, damn, Ne-chan's gonna be so pissed!"

"I don't give a damn what Temari wants," I saw calmly as we walk down the old wrought iron stairs, clanks and groans following our trail as the thing was old beyond belief, leading my brother to the Chevy.

"What are you doing?"

"We're going out."

"Out where?" Voice, high and hysterical with fear. Fear of being squashed by an evil older sister, fear of driving off with an insane little brother, fear of doing anything that was remarkably new or out of character or maybe both.

"Out," I snap, pushing him into the driver's seat and shutting the door. Kankuro and Temari never lock the doors, because no one in their right mind would want to steal this ancient guttering heap of a car. I circle the vehicle and get in from the passenger side, sitting so that I am right next to my brother, who is gripping the front wheel so tight his fingers turned numb.

He looks at me expectantly. His voice has lost its high-pitched-ness and has now adopted a half-calm, half-hysterical edge to it. "What in the world are you doing Gaara? Defying Temari and storming out of the house? Dragging your older brother with you? Acting completely and totally out of character?"

"123 North Main Street," I say, ignoring him, "and guess what?"

"…what?"

I grin in what must be a very disturbing manner, and start the car.

"I'm breaking the music."

"Oh god," is the horrified reply.

And, with a slight screeching noise, one Chevy Silverado Hybrid zooms out into the night.

--

Naruto is beside me—Naruto, my god, my being, my wonderful light, the thing I cling to with all my might, gentle, as he grips my hand reassuringly as we step outside for the first time in almost nine months. Beautiful leaves, naïve, pure, green with a life, brush against my feet, so cold, the ground, a bittersweet chill. "Just hold my hand," the being whispers to me, mouth ticklish against my ear, and I cling to him with all my strength and might as I stare at the blue sky, a true blue sky which has not shown myself to me for months except for behind a plastic glass. Blue, azure, cyan, cyan like my eyes, though bluer.

Tug, tug. Tugged onto a wooden bench, slightly damp with morning dew, the being crawled beside me, smiling, still clutching my hand, and I, with my headphones and my medication in my pocket, the twitch of a smile on my cheek, turn around and face him. My being. Blonde, bright, dazzling with true blue eyes, prettier then any sky in any world, deep, though shallow, glazed over in thought yet holding so many words. I run a hand along his cheek and he looks at me, slightly surprised, by my urge and need for human contact—I run my hand along his cheek, his temple, his neck and under his mess of blondish hair, run my hand onto his lips and a twinkle in my eye.

"Naruto." The word is foreign, so foreign to me, unfamiliar on my tongue and heavy in my mouth and heavier as it left. He is the being, my being, my god, that god that I first met inside, where Shukaku still reigned—Shukaku is inside, not here, never here, I won't let him come here—this is my and Naruto's garden—and I lean forward and snuggle into the crook of his neck.

He lets me, laughing lightly, ruffling my hair as I inhale his scent—the smell of the sun—heard his smile—like gentle bells—saw his kindness—deep and blue, eyes—and say, very gently, "I like you."

Pause.

"I don't know what this is. I like you."

Pause.

"No."

The birds are screaming warnings, flying past, the sky darkening. I lift myself from his shoulder, eyes dark with seriousness as I clutch his hand, harder, tighter, as he stares at me with a face of mixed watercolor emotions.

I say them.

"I love you."

Pause.

Shatter.

Darkness.

Human beings make mistakes. They make mistakes, they hurt others, they remember, they forget. And yet, through the mistakes and regrets people make, there is truth, and there is happiness. And I, in some deep subconscious of my mind, somewhere I had long sealed up and forgotten, deliberately, purposely, am pleased with myself.

For I have loved.

Even if I am not all too certain what love is yet, what it meant, why people needed it and how it clenched your heart—

I have loved.

And I have forgotten.

--

Author's Notes: Sorry I haven't updated in so long! (Avoids rotten tomatoes) Aah! Sorry! It's short too . This chapter was pretty hard to write though :( What happened was I wrote six pages on Temari having a party with Haku and Zabuza but it really got no where and it wasn't what I wanted the brothers to talk about and I (after some tough thinking) decided to totally delete that part and right something less funny but still on topic ;-;. Sorry! Anyway, the big Kankuro and Gaara scene is over! Reverting back to short three-to-four scene chapters next chapter and hopefully the story will start to wrap itself up...

THE MEANING OF THE TITLE IS CLEAR XD. Though it's not the best title and meaning ever, there is meaning! And, as a bonus, I include Gaara's confession to Naruto XD. Can people figure out how and what and when and why he confesses? (hopefully it should be obvious). Anyways, thanks for reading! And DEFINITE thanks to my reviewers/favoriters/alerters! You (to some extent) keep this story alive! Otherwise, it's like me posting stories to myself oO. Anyways, thanks!

P.S. I am aware that Gaara is EXTREMELY OOC this chapter. This is because I am trying to have some "brotherly bonding" and I really can't think of a way other then making Gaara OOC... I'm sorry if I have offended any hardcore-Gaara-fans out there ;-;. I suck and keeping my characters in character. Just to let you know.