A/N: Wow, thank you all for your super sweet reviews! I originally planned to update this once a week or so, but I can't help it! If I have the next chapter ready and you want it from me, I shall deliver! O

Also to those who have inquired about GaaNaru or NaruGaa, this story, like all of my other stories, is GaaNaru.

Gaara is a lovely top! To those whom it does not matter, enjoy! And please let me know what you think, I love to hear from all of you.

One of the many things I never learned to like was boats; quite comical for living on a dock. The way they rocked like an old crib in the wind was unsettling at the least, let alone any inclinations to sea sickness.

Luckily, this was something I had not experienced in roundabout a decade.

That day might have been a lovely day… that is, if the air weren't so sticky and the fact that I was on board one of the miserable vessels, rocking about as if nobody's business. Maybe it would have been lovely if the company were better, not just that old bat of a sailor, Jiraiya.

But maybe it wasn't the company I was in that irked me so much as the lack of.

As one prone to solitude, I found my thoughts (of a certain blonde with oceanic eyes) unnerving; a craving for companionship like nothing I'd felt in a long while. In the past I would have griped about loading a boat, each water-logged step sent bullets through my spine as the weight of the many crates I lugged back and forth took a toll on the foundation.

Every few weeks or so, when the old man was not slumming around the pub I would lend his (as he never seems to let me forget) weary bones a hand. I did not mind the tedious pacing, the straining arms, or his shouts of encouragement that sounded more like threats…

I just think there should be a minimum requirement for how much solid mass should stand between someone and the big blue.

"Ay! Best grab that candlestick!" Jiraiya bellowed heartily, my eyes drifting to where the lone copper piece lay forgotten. With patches of mossy green and a style that hadn't been in style for many a century, I could only assume it had been purchased at Tackle and Things for a less-than-reasonable price.

It was cold in my hands, as if it'd been left alone to collect dust.

"It's not safe to have anythin' shiny aboard with the sea devils about."

The way he spoke was not in the braggart voice of a drunken Scot so much as a reminder to himself. The way his voice rang softly, it was almost easy to believe we were having a real conversation, no matter how one-sided it may be.

"I swear, even if it's the cheapest piece of plastic you'd ever seen, if it gleams, they'll want it and if you're near it, well, let's just say you don't want to be." I gave a soft grunt, just to let him know that I was listening.

I would not patronize him nor would I raise any challenge to what he said. I wasn't like those other men he found himself surrounded by and I'm sure the coot knew it. So he just kept speaking and I just went on listening, breaking out the mop and bucket.

"They don't just pick off people; don't know what ye've heard but it doesn't work that way. They choose a victim." Two fingers went to his eyes before drawing across to me. "A fellow that compliments them. They tease and they coo at 'em until the poor sod just waltzes after 'em wherever they go."

If you've ever seen a soldier with his hat to his heart over a fallen comrade then you'd have a good idea of the look Jiraiya held in his softened gaze.

I felt like I'd been exposed to some secret, perhaps the one that made his shoulders seem so heavy to the outside world.

It was in that moment, watching each crease in his skin that it occurred to me how old he was.

"No meal is easier than one that follows you into the kitchen."

Just like that he closed up again, the look of a jolly fool back in place where it always was. "That's why it's just so damn easy to fall in love; there just ain't any accidents when it comes to sea devils. Like I said, they choose you, so it's no wonder it feels like it's meant to be."

"And does it?"

If the man was startled by my tangible contribution to the topic he never showed it, just looked out at the waves while I scrubbed away at the deck.

"Whether the demon be a man or woman, no sailor would look down upon another for falling in love with the damned thing. It's an unspoken code, something that should not be detested but pitied…" I wondered what sailors he was referring to; none seemed to be too keen on his theories.

Although it did occur to me that not all were as willing to admit to such delusions as Jiraiya was.

"Just you wait boy, with sea devils about, people are gonna start disappearing…"

As ominous as it all was, from his steady voice to the whistles of the wind, I still could not deny that in a way, it was a lovely day.

I rinsed away the last of the muck from the deck; one thing you probably don't want to know is that nothing in the world eats away ocean scum like a bottle of Cola and a firm bristle mop.

Safe to say after learning sailor's secret I wasn't much of a dark soda drinker.

I much preferred cider.

With my work for the day done with and a lump of cash hot in my pocket, it felt like there was nothing else to do but wait for tomorrow.

I guess at some point every day felt that way, waiting for the next but not really anticipating anything. I wasn't one to stir things up, as anyone who knew me would mention, but sometimes even I had to step off course once in a while.

In this small society of mine one can easily assume I am fond of both the pub and the tackle shop, my visits to these places occurred near daily out of some unrecognized habit.

Today I sidestepped my pub and walked straight into 'The Leaf'; a homey café run by a robust redhead with a mean-streak for girls of the petite sort. She was bustling about with an outdated cash register, crunching numbers for this shack she put every ounce of pride in.

I seated myself along the wall, debating whether or not I could down half a fish sandwich. I wasn't much of an eater, though I ate more than slept. Ultimately I am sure I only ate for survival purposes, I could go on without the taste of the many wonderful things others tended to gorge on.

I can't even remember if I found pleasure in anything I did in those days, though if I did I don't miss it.

My waitress was there in an instant, coffee in hand that was hot like anything else worth drinking.

Sakura and I had acknowledged each other for the first time when her hair was still blonde and I held my ratty old bear in a desperate clutch. Since then she'd dyed it a pastel pink and managed to maintain the almost soothing color for a good many years.

She knew how I liked my coffee, hardly any sugar but a heaping of cream. The young woman had a bounce in her step as I placed my order, who knew what kept her excited through the days of waiting on people both polite and not-so-much.

Maybe the sweet hymn she sang under her breath as she scrubbed down each table contributed.

"Sakura…" The voice was that of the owner, her thick glasses slipping to the brim of her nose. "None of that, now." The hymn faded like a settling wind chime; the diner being engulfed in silence as a hot fish burger was brought my way, something like you could only get in the old stories of iron skillets.

"Thank you."

Sakura gave a lifted eyebrow and a smile, as if to say I was being far too formal… as if to say in a way she may have considered us friends.

That's the problem with the folk at the docks; they met someone and then assumed they had the right to know them.

Maybe that's why I felt no urge to pry into Naruto's life; how long before I became another one of them? Old and telling dusty stories about a sailor who'd had more than his share to drink.

"Karin." I called out to the passing woman, her nerves in an obvious frenzy. "Why did you make her stop?" If I could describe the woman as anything other than a subtle lesbian, it was someone with an heir about them that things where always either going wrong or bound to soon enough.

"Pardon?"

"Her singing, why did she have to stop?"

Because of the generally frazzled nature of the woman, her suspicious glances back and forth did little to alarm me.

"Normally I wouldn't mind it, but sirens, they love a little song and the last thing I need is those sort hanging about my eatery."

With nothing more she was off, a notepad in hand and crunching numbers.

At this point I was convinced that the entire world had gone inexplicably mad.

Let me remind you that I have no qualms with the insane, the immoral, or the disturbed. The belief of those I found myself unwillingly surrounded by was not something I ever concerned myself with, let alone expressed any public dismay at.

This being something I'd felt my entire life, one can easily visualize the expression on my small family's faces at the dinner table when I asked them what their opinion was on this mermaid nonsense.

The fact that I'd asked in the first place was one riddle, my outright choice of description as nonsense was another.

I think that was one of the earlier signs that I was quickly becoming involved in this scandal.

"Well… I never really thought about it." Temari pondered with her fork still hovering above her plate. "I hear a lot of stories everyday while selling. It's not like any one seems crazier than the other." Now that I thought about it, many times I had passed her shop there had been tales spreading around of anything from the great squid god of Cthulhu to Lochness sightings; I just never spared a thought before.

Maybe it was the unrealistic feel of the blonde's skin or the way his gaze welcomed me in with an invitational sweep… I just had the feeling if he and Jiraiya ever crossed paths, well, I'd have to stand between to the two.

I was positive that the coot would think the boy a mermaid and have his try at slaying the beast, so to speak.

I just don't know why I thought that way.

"Don't listen to her Gaara." Kankuro piped up, his glass empty as usual and eyes unable to completely focus. "They're as real as you and I. Seen one before, a wicked little beast." The brunette man found the ceiling and watched it like a movie screen, somehow able to direct bites of rice to his mouth without once glancing at his plate. "He 'ad this wild tan, like he'd been laying on a beach his 'ol life and just drinkin' the sun. Little red stripes dripping down his eyes like poorly painted tears."

Temari rolled her eyes and spared our brother a smile that seemed more of a wince.

"I'm serious! I was out fishing farther than I'd usually ever been when this big creaky boat comes by. Looks like something shark hunters would 'av, I only really looked because I 'eard screaming, though it wasn't like 'ow normal people'd scream." Glass went up, nothing but the water from the melting ice meeting his lips. "He was pinned to the underside of the bow, mess of dark brown hair that 'ad been chopped off. I couldn't see for sure but he 'ad what looked like railroad spikes dug into his belly like one of those butterflies you'd see in a museum."

I was reminded in that moment that my brother belonged here by the ocean. Everyone that belonged here could make that same face, switch to that same voice, like something of a story teller.

I guess the ocean was just the place for a thousand unnecessary tales that everyone and no one wanted to hear.

"I swear then, he got silent, just looked at me from one hundred feet away and yet I could stare right into his eyes as if he were in front of me, tail long and red like a fat ol' apple you buy down south. Now he just stared for a bit and let me see him, all of him, some expression on his face that I can't describe."

I wondered if it was similar to the one he wore then.

"Let me tell you, if I could 'ave walked across that water and right up to him, I would 'ave, and when he realized that I couldn't, he went back to his writhin' and wailin'."

Temari had a look on her face like everything out of his mouth was bullshit; for once I wasn't able to completely agree with her.

"Was this while you were drunk?" She teased, trying to keep dinner light-hearted but it was an unnecessary question, the man was always drunk.

"Alcohol doesn't make you hallucinate you know." The man griped, loosing that edge of wonder in his expression.

"I'm just sayin' you may be exaggeratin' a bit."

"No, what you're sayin' is that I'm a dirty liar."

And it escalated.

I shot Shikamaru a glance, the man finishing his plate and getting comfortable in his seat, already sure that this conversation would go on for a while.

Another thing I never liked was controversy… Ironic seeing as I just served some up with dinner.

"You know that ain't what I mean." There's a sort of ring in her tone, Shikamaru used to tell me that it was something all women possessed but I'd only ever heard my sister use it.

Shikamaru said that's because I'd never been with a woman.

"But it is ain't it? Fisherman pin mermaids to the bows because it gets 'em screamin'. Nothing calls in schools of fat fish like one of their own wailing for help." My brother slammed his fork to the table, standing angrily and fetching his bottle of bourbon to fill his glass. Part of me knew he'd never stop loving the poison yet another part figured he went out of his way to drink it because he knew it made Temari angry.

I tried not to think about it as long as it never intervened with his ability to function.

"Now you're just being ridiculous! I knew you fishermen were crazy." She griped.

"If I recall, it was your ten year old ass that dragged mine to this rat-hole place and then back again every chance you got for the next fifteen years!" He growled.

Slam.

"So suddenly I'm the crazy one because I wanted to own a business? Me? Not all the fishermen here with their disregard-of-hygiene and lack-of-sobriety, God forbid they're the ones with a bolt loose."

Let me tell you something about my brother in law. He was as brilliant as he was lazy, though I may have mentioned that already, ultimately he knew how to sooth a situation gone sour like no one I'd ever met before. Maybe that's why he was able to coincide with Temari on an emotional level like no man her age had been able to.

"Mermaids, or whatever people choose to call them…" The raven started, lighting up a cigarette and filling the room with the heavy taste of tobacco. "They've been a strong part of shoreline culture for centuries." I was inwardly pleased at the way my siblings retracted their claws, settling into their chairs as the sagacious yet younger man quickly took charge.

"It's a choice to believe in them, same as any religion. For people who do believe in them there is plenty of proof and for people who don't, well, there will never be enough." He took another deep inhale and let the smoke gather.

Just like that the household was back to the way it always had been.

I just sat there wondering how Shikamaru had quickly become the only one making any sense in my usually sensible household.

()()()()()

I don't know if I ever fell asleep that night.

One minute I watched the old swollen ceiling boards and the next I heard singing. It was not the desperate wailing of a wench with a missing jaw nor the screams of a striped boy pinned to a boat. It was almost like a lullaby or a pleading for happiness to come its way.

I'd never heard a song like it.

It lifted my eyelids and my body right out of bed, each sporadic whistle and chirp drifting through the open window. It was so coarse yet lovely, how could Kankuro sleep through the melody, his mouth hanging open and the usual empty whisky bottle in hand?

I almost wondered if I was dreaming; I almost wondered if anything I'd been experiencing lately was real at all.

Pulling over a musty shirt, I crept down the hall. It was not difficult getting out of the house, sometimes I worried that Kankuro would never wake up and as for the other two… I tried not to think about what they spent their nights doing.

Even with no windows the song still rang loudly, there were no words that I could make out but I knew what it was saying.

I'm lonely.

Come find me.

It was a feeling I'd known a long time ago; all alone on a playground while I swayed on a rusty swing, no parent to push me and too short for my legs to kick off for myself.

Are you lonely?

Don't be, come find me.

Once upon a time, with my bear clutched in my arms, I asked my now deceased uncle why no one wanted to be around me. He had said I was just unlucky, that someone always has to be left behind for others to move forward.

He had no problem leaving me behind when he hung himself in my playroom.

Please I'm so lonely.

"I hear you."

Did those words come from me?

Outside that door had been cold; everything in my world had always been so cold. His shadow rocking back and forth in the crack beneath the door, my breath clogged in the back of my throat.

I had opened the door and my mouth to scream but nothing came out.

Nothing ever really came out.

On the docks it was completely different; it was warm with sticky summer air and salt. In the swallowing night all I saw was his outline lounging against the railing, feet hanging over and dipping right into the oil black water.

How terrifying.

"It's funny, I was sort of thinking about you. Never would have guessed you'd show up."

Despite what he said, something in my gut knew that he had called me here and like the subservient individual that I tended to be, I followed.

"Sit with me?" He purred, the moon exposing from the clouds to light him up like a present under a tree, those round eyes brimming with kindness. I always thought him one that craved the company of others…

I was happy to oblige to a point.

"I'd prefer to stand."

The thought of letting my feet anywhere near that black pit was stomach churning,

"What's the matter, afraid of the water?"

The water that looked like boiling tar.

"With good reason." I murmured, recalling another one of my darker memories.

Naruto smiled at me like the world had found international peace; I can't even convince myself that I didn't enjoy that smile just a bit. "You gonna share that story?" I thought back to all the people I was surrounded by and their similar love for storytelling.

I didn't want to be like them yet his eyes glittered and I felt… compelled…

"I've been coming to these docks since I was small, my father had several contracts with fishermen, they supplied him with crab and fish for his seafood franchise which has, since his death, been liquidated." I thought back on the zero dollars my father left his three children in his will and how the only reason we have a house at the moment is because Shikamaru had a bit in savings.

He didn't hesitate to pull every penny to give to his wife for her dream home.

He listened like nobody had, head tilted slightly and a look of genuine interest as I told him how I had leaned too far over the railing, falling forward and landing with a splash that echoed in my ears. Bobbing up I tried to scream, mouth open in a silent wail I threw out my arms but caught nothing.

And how there was no one there to catch me.

Floating in the murky water my small heart nearly stopped when I felt something long slide across my leg, cold and ominous. I told the blonde how I'd been convinced I was about to die, I told him how that brush of scales drove the voice from my mouth finally and then I told him how Yashamaru's, my uncle's, hand came from the sky and rescued me.

I did not mention that the reason my late uncle was no longer with us was due to suicide.

"Wow, I guess I can kind of see why you don't much like the water." There was a cross of amusement and empathy in that statement. "What do you think it may have been?" He stood up, eyes level with my nose yet pinned seemingly on my mouth. He was so close I'm sure I was holding my breath though I hardly noticed.

"I'd rather not know."

His laughter was a bell chiming in my ear; I hated and enjoyed it all the same.

I felt a smooth fingertip brush along my jaw line, his eyes focused on my mouth as I watched the sun rise from beyond the ocean over his shoulder.

From dark 'til the sea was cast in orange, it spoke for itself how long he stood there with his hands touching my face, exploring and curious. I wasn't sure what to make of any of it, not of the touches or the stares or how blue the sea looked when he stood in front of it.

"The storm must be over… isn't everything so blue?"

How could he have known? The young man wasn't even facing the ocean.

Then he let go of me, falling backwards and right into the blue water as if he belonged there.

"Are you crazy!? Give me your hand!" I shouted, yes, shouted, leaning over the rail and reaching out to the treading boy.

"Come in with me Gaara." He laughed, shaking his hair free from his face.

"Idiot." I whispered, "I already told you I can't."

Naruto went under for a moment, rising again for a deep breath and a fit of snickers at what must have been the look on my face.

I wonder if he thought the fear I felt was from the water itself. To be honest, it was more from him, floating in deep as if he were right where he belonged.

"I'm going home." I announced with a heavy exhale though I almost took it back when he looked at me with devastation.

"I'll be seeing you again won't I?" It was a hopeful statement and I nearly answered too quickly.

"If that's what you want."

By the smile I received, even my worst doubts could not convince me that Naruto was just another person aiming to leave me behind.

When I got home the house was as asleep as when I'd left it.