Author's Note: This reminds me of my tragic, day-long possession of a dog I named Arthur...except he escaped under 'mysterious circumstances' and I'm afraid to ask my mother if she saw him hit by a car or something. I was around six, so I'd rather just believe he found his way home or something optimistic...
Anyway, if you like puppies- check out my NejiTen ficcy entitled Puppy Love. You could even look at it if you just want to read about Neji being mildly annoyed with life, since untrained doggies have a way of making your life miserable.
Gai lowers his burden of plastic bags against the wall; unclips his sandals in one swift gesture, and moves on one foot to remove his bulky Jounin jacket. He pauses in mid-movement, however, when he spots Lee sitting, clean and looking very guilty, on the couch. With a dog.
Gai stares; Lee and the puppy stare back, their shiny-black button eyes remarkably similar. The dog has thick little legs, the body shape of an untwisted circus balloon, and a tightly-curled tail; it's white face features two tawny dots that resemble, disconcertingly, eyebrows; it does not look very smart. The combination of these elements, besides it's docked ears, add up to the tragic kind of cute that gives you cavities. "… Lee?" Gai prompts, still wondering what the thing is doing in his…their, apartment. Lee effectively lives here; already he's received mail.
"I'll take care of it and feed it every day," the boy says rushedly.
Gai's expression remains dubious. "Where did it come from?"
"I'll walk him even when it's dark and snowing," Lee answers. His little, tan hand finds the creature's spine and scratches. The creature goes into a seizure of glee at the stimulation, it's little eyes welding closed in resemblance to a simplified anime character.
"You're still not telling me where it came from."
Silence fills the single room for some time- before the puppy gets up, wagging it's cinnamon-bun tail sweetly, and strolls up to the massive trees of Gai's shins. It sniffs his bright legwarmers and bare, hairy toes for a moment, snuffling it's adorable little nose at the amalgamation of smells that make up a Gai-sensei. And then it moves on to the heap of Gai's jacket, which the doggy proceeds to lift it's leg on.
Gai is not amused, and looks scornfully upon his little roommate; Lee merely grins in that way that's impossible to say no to.
"Let's call him Youth-Dog," he says.
----
Youth-Dog was apparently born with an identity crisis; he answers to no name, and simply stares at one when they try to discipline him. Within the first few hours of his arrival, Youth-Dog urinates on the carpet four times, takes a large hunk out of the corner of the couch, and runs into the hall wall twice. Lee responsibly sets down water and some take-out chicken, and plays with the animal until Gai suggests that they preempt any more 'accidents' by taking a walk. From the matchbox-sized patio, Gai watches the pair march up and down the pavement in front of the building. They have no leash, so Lee has a shrunken green jumpsuit of Gai's tied by one sleeve to the dog's neck; he holds the other, the legs dragging across the dusty ground.
Both of them are much too cute to be thrown to the wayside; as he watches their parade Gai wonders who could have done just that, while at the same time reflecting on his luck that somebody did.
----
But then the evening comes, and Gai begins to rethink his earlier sentiments.
Dogs, apparently, do not follow any conventional sleep schedule. The puppy insists on flouncing through Lee's futon, and the pair are amusing to watch for some time; but when Lee lies down the dog attacks his head good-naturedly, leading to a miniscule amount of blood and a few tears. Gai pats alcohol on the boy's hair and slaps a Band-Aid over the spot, but Youth-Dog is just warming up. It pitter-pats around the apartment in the dark, edging Gai into a sleepless paranoia as he listens for liquid; Lee offers to take him out on the jumpsuit-leash, carrying a waterproof flashlight under one arm. Gai says nothing about the flowers that hang from Youth-Dog's mouth when they return, and even remains silent when the creature begins mock-attacking the alarm clock. Having bitten through the plastic button, Youth-Dog insists on going out for a stroll again; combs Gai's hair with it's teeth once the man has fallen asleep, and begins jawing on the couch again. The dog is asleep by dawn, having woken Gai up roughly forty-five times in the night; he leaves the animal flopped across Lee's body when the doorbell rings at 6 a.m, a friendly visit from the landlady to complain about her uprooted flowers.
Youth-Dog knocks down their neatly-folded bedding; Youth-Dog overturns Lee's cereal bowl in his lap. On his afternoon walk, the jumpsuit finally gives out, and Gai and Lee are forced to chase the wily puppy for nearly an hour, a single green sleeve knotted around it's fluffy neck like a windsock. Youth-Dog caps off the day by leaving a 'gift' of appreciation in the corner of the room, after the threesome return from a long, tedious walk to the pet store in search of a real rope. Gai is ready to suggest that the puppy take a nap in the oven, but Lee follows it around with the spray-cleaner bottle diligently, nothing but love in his stern expression.
Youth-Dog cannot sit, stay, or jump through a hoop by Monday, despite Lee's egregious training. It's favorite activity becomes staring at the wall, when it is not actively trying to open the refrigerator. He and Lee get no sleep over the weekend, which stinks because Gai has an S-rank mission looming. Lying on his back that night, listening to Lee's exhausted sleep-breaths and Youth-Dog barking at the curtains, Gai considers the reality that there is an enemy he cannot face down- and it isn't even housetrained. Never before in his life has he so doubted his own abilities to care for meaningful things.
----
He opens the door the next morning to find a young man of about thirteen standing, grinning with the glee of someone who has slept well for some days. He's here for his dog, he tells Gai; he saw Lee 'walking' Youth-Dog down the street this morning, just trying to keep his feet under him when the creature spotted the magazine store owner's cat.
Lee is seated, cross-legged, on his unmade futon, sleep-rumpled and looking entirely innocent. The teenager steps into the apartment and claps; Youth-Dog flounces from Lee's lap with all of his claws, and jogs over to his master. There are promises to stroll by their house, appreciative thanks to Lee for taking care of the lost creature all weekend, covert apologies to Gai because the bags under his eyes reflect the animal's troublesomeness and tepid acceptances of these sympathies; but then boy and hound depart, leaving the apartment as quiet as it was before Youth-Dog. Suddenly this lack of noise is alien; their lives have changed irrevocably in two days, and Gai isn't sure if it's for the better or worse…until Lee looks up from picking the clumps of hair from his shirt, and solemnly says, "Is that what taking care of me is like?"
The firm resistance melts. "No," Gai tells him, allowing his shoulders to relax and his face to untense for the first time since he saw the puppy. "No, of course not."
Little Lee stares at the door contemplatively, gnawing on a hangnail. " 'Cause I wake you up at night sometimes, and I spill things on the carpet, too. I wet the bed sometimes. I am like- do I make you frustrated?"
Gai is quiet for a moment, leaning one burly shoulder against the wall; Lee seems startled by his silence. "Yes," the man finally mumbles. "You keep me awake some nights, because I'm scared to sleep in case you stop breathing. You dropped chocolate milk on the floor once, but I didn't have anyone to drink chocolate milk with before that. And if you didn't pee in the bed, I'd probably never wash the futons or buy soap- so no, Lee. It frustrates me to think that I lived so long without loving and caring for someone this way. You're always teaching me something new, and to be honest, I've never been happier to be around anybody. I wouldn't trade you for all the world, kid."
The boy lets this message sink in, absorb into his small face and convert into a smile as bright as spring sunshine. He jumps up and hugs Gai's knees, and the man drops a hand onto his slick little head in appreciation. It is more rewarding a moment than any other confession of Gai's life.
But then Lee steps back, and catches his sensei's eyes: "Good. 'Cause now I want a kitten, please."
A/N: You KNOW Lee would name it that. Face it. XD Woo-hoo- I made a human connection out of Little Lee and a lame idea!
