Chapter Three
Pint-sized, Full, and Squeaky-clean
He was in a nice, hot bath, and he was definitely enjoying himself. It was a rare treat, he had been using the oasis for this at night ever since he had been kicked out. He always had to wait until the middle of the night too, when it was freezing outside. Desert nights were always bitter at this time of the year. Hinata had brought him some clothes too, a tan T-shirt and a pair of black sweats. They were much too big for him, but they were clean and soft. She had taken his down to the laundry room. He was starting to like her, a lot. She even put in extra bubbles for him!
He happily played in the bubbles, long after he had finished washing himself. A knock on the door caught his attention.
"Gaara, may I come in?" He swiftly checked to make sure that nothing was showing that shouldn't be, then said yes. She came in bearing gray towels. She smiled at him.
"Playing with the bubbles?" He gave a sheepish nod, and she giggled. He was so cute! How could anyone just abandon him? She instructed him to duck his head under the water. He gave her an odd look, but at length, did as he was told. The sand that followed him everywhere was sitting in a pile across the bathroom. The bathroom was brown, and made up of a tiled floor and walls. He recognized the building, but he wasn't sure from where or when.
She began to wash his hair, using gentle circles on his scalp. It felt good, much to his surprise. No one had ever willingly touched him before. He was really starting to like her. After she helped him rinse his hair, she left him to his own devices, going to check on the vegetable and beef stew she had made. She always made enough food to last her a week or so, heating up leftovers for dinner. A stew or soup was a great way to use up the stale bread she was unable to sell. Luckily for Gaara, the meal he was getting tonight was freshly made.
Eventually, the aroma from the cooking stew was too much for him, and he got out of the tub and dried off. He was, according to Hinata, a prune. He didn't mind; the bubbles had been fun. It was nice to be able to relax for a change.
She sliced a generous piece of bread, buttered it, and put it in the bowel, doing the same to the other one. She then ladled the stew into them, and set one down before her guest at her simple wooden table. The ravenous boy fell on it, eating swiftly but neatly; not a single drop was to be wasted.
She looked at him in shock, "when was the last time you ate anything?"
He looked down in shame. "About five days ago I had a few crusts."
"Olay, how about your last real meal?"
"Um, I, well, I don't know…"
"You poor thing! What kind of person lets a child starve to death?!"
He looked at her sharply. "It is my punishment, and my test! I must pass!"
"Punishment? No, Gaara, punishment is a time out, a scolding, or a spanking. Starvation is abuse and neglect, and not suitable for punishment."
"I failed-"
"In what? What could they possibly expect from a child?"
"I killed my mother! And I failed in the attack on your village! I was supposed to release it, but I didn't. they had to force it out of me!" he was on the verge of crying, but was bravely holding it back.
"Well, let me tell you something. Your mother died in childbirth, yes?" he nodded, "So did mine, with my little sister, and you know what? It wasn't her fault, babies can't control how they come out."
"But mine was different! It was too strong for her-"
"Did you put it inside you?"
"No, but-"
"Then it's still not your fault. The only ones to blame are the ones who put the demon inside you. You were an innocent bystander in all of this. Your mother's death was not your fault." He looked down. He had never heard it put that way before. She took his bowl and refilled it, much to his delight. This stuff was really good!
"Eat up, little guy. No one comes into my house and stays hungry."
Gaara obeyed, and by the end of the night had eaten five bowls of the stew. Having told Hinata that he couldn't sleep, she gave him some paper and pencils for him to draw. A soft blanket was put on his shoulders, and she left the lamp in the living room on for him. Just because he didn't sleep didn't mean he should be cold. Gaara had a long, comfortable night of relaxation ahead of him, and plenty of time to ponder what Hinata had said.