CHAPTER 3: Impure

The next day, it was near the end of his shift, and Gaara was leaving his workplace. Outside, Naruto ran to him, out of breath.

"Man, haah, I was scared I'd be late," Naruto breathed loudly.

"Late?" Gaara asked.

"Yeah. I'm so sorry. Shall we head to the pub?"

"Er, okay," Gaara agreed, and slowly followed Naruto.

Naruto was right by his side, talking about his day very animatedly. For an answer, Gaara only mumbled something, hoping it would be enough. With all his brain capacity, he tried to come up with something to say. Something that "the real Gaara" would say. Gaara knew they had been friends for ages, yet for some reason today, he couldn't feel the connection. The wires were cut, and he couldn't find a natural way to respond to Naruto. As if he was an alien in someone else's skin.

At the pub, Naruto brought them drinks to their table.

"Here you go," he politely offered as he sat down. "So, how was your day?"

"It was alright," Gaara came up with. He wanted to add something, but at the moment, he felt strangely disconnected from everything.

Naruto stared at him compassionately, yet there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"Are you sure everything is alright?"

"Definitely," Gaara promised, hoping that he could keep up the social interaction on a satisfying level. He wanted to disappear and come back when he was back to normal.

"Wanna see my new place tonight?" Naruto asked with an unreadable look in his eyes.

"Why not," Gaara agreed. It felt impolite to decline.

The bus ride to Naruto's new home was awfully quiet. Gaara regretted coming.

Eventually, Naruto led them to his new home. "Home sweet home!"

"This is really nice," Gaara reviewed. "Did Ino help you with achieving this polished look?"

Naruto looked at him strangely. "No, she didn't help me. I did this all by myself." There was a dash of annoyance in his voice.

Gaara heard it but didn't react. He felt so small again, like his body was that of an adolescent. It felt tempting to drop down and start playing with the shoes on the hallway floor. Maybe Naruto would take him then and there and have his fulfillment, and then he would be happy again with Gaara, and the anger would be gone.

Instead, Naruto led them to the kitchen. "Look at this stove. It's brand new!"

"Like you knew how to cook," Gaara let slip.

"Hey, not fair!" Naruto exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," Gaara apologized monotonically.

Naruto had that unreadable look in his eyes again. Gaara turned away. His brain couldn't handle it tonight.

"Why don't you cook for us tonight, Gaa-chan?" Naruto suggested with a friendly smile.

"You're hungry and you don't know how to make healthy meals. You lured me here to cook for you," Gaara shot.

"Ouch, you're brutal," Naruto laughed, but right then his stomach grumbled. "And for your information, I can indeed cook, and if it's alright for you, I'd be delighted to cook for just the two of us tonight."

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm afraid I have to get going," Gaara declined, heading to the door.

"Hey, wait!" Naruto ran after him. "Gaara, is everything okay?"

"Yes," Gaara nodded.

"Is there something I should know?" Naruto asked, and there was that hint of sadness in his eyes again.

"There's nothing you don't already know," Gaara phrased.

He saw the shoes again, remembered the earlier anger, and wondered what it was that Naruto wanted from him. They had been friends since high school. Why hadn't Naruto left him already? Why did Naruto still stick around, when obviously Gaara couldn't offer him the kind of a quality friendship a friendly man like him deserved?

"Would you tell me if there was something I ought to know?" Naruto tried again, but the way he looked at him was too serious to give a carefree image.

"You'd be the first to know," Gaara assured.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Good," Naruto nodded, and hugged Gaara briefly.

But Gaara didn't realize to hug back, and now the moment was gone. He wanted to tell his friend that he was sorry. He didn't know what to say, how to act. He wanted to tell that he wasn't the Gaara he had known for ages, but he would be in touch once things were back to normal. He just hoped that things would be back to normal one day. The idea of him remaining as a lacking shell of a human being for the rest of his life scared him. For a fleeting moment he wanted to cut himself, in hopes it would evoke something human in him.

"See you," Gaara bid goodbye robotically, leaving with all the things left unsaid.

Now alone, Naruto slumped on his couch, deep in thought. The odd aura around Gaara bothered him. There was something unusual in it.

As he slid his fingers through his hair, he made a face. It felt slightly greasy on the roots, even if he had washed it this morning, like every morning. Momentarily, he wanted to wash his hair right then and there, but he knew that despite that, he would still have to wash it in the morning as well. It was a routine. And if he acted against it, something bad would happen to him or his family.

He took out a dense comb, and combed through every part of his hair over the basin in the bathroom. Nothing but a few flakes of dandruff fell down. Now, he knew that there were no lice on his scalp, and he had never had lice in his life, but he just wanted to make sure that his scalp suddenly wasn't infested with bugs. He was terrified of them, of the idea of finding himself impure.

Repeating these routines brought him a sense of safety. Next, he studied his eyebrows, and made sure to pluck any undesired hair on his face. Just to be sure, he went through his nostrils with little scissors as well, terrified of the idea that the hair in there would be visible to anyone.

When he was done, he went to the closet where he kept his clothes, and selected an outfit for tomorrow. Patiently, he took out the ironing board and plugged in the iron. Like a surgeon in operation, carefully he ironed out even the smallest of wrinkles. Some of them seemed to re-appear after some time, but he just ironed them again, and again, until he was satisfied.

He had to look spot-on, he had to be clean.

If he wasn't, his family would die, again.

And he had known Gaara since the very first days of high school. The moment their eyes had met, blood had stagnated in Naruto's veins, and he had felt drawn to that piercing, knowing gaze. Gaara's flaming red hair and all-black clothes had been the first thing he had noticed. Next, his odd, dark-rimmed jade eyes had spotted him from the crowd, as if he had seen the real him through all his masks and facades.

Unnerved yet curious, Naruto had approached him with a wide smile, deciding he would befriend that strange boy or die trying.

For months, Gaara had kept him emotionally at an arm's length, even though he had allowed Naruto to sit next to him, or playfully pat him on the shoulder on an occasion. No matter how tirelessly Naruto had tried to lure Gaara into opening up emotionally, it had not happened. The redhead had remained avoidant like a closed-off clam.

Until one evening changed everything.

It had been one of those nights at home. Naruto had stormed off in anger and hurt. The school yard had been deserted by the time of sunset. Naruto had been sitting on the concrete stairs in front of the entrance all alone. Never had he believed Gaara would react to his text message, or show up.

Right in the border of dusk turning into darkened skies, he had seen Gaara walking slowly towards him. The scent of tobacco smoke had reached him before the redhead did. Gaara looked so mean Naruto had feared he would yell at him for dragging him here at this hour.

Shyly, Naruto had smiled at him, but then he had remembered again what had happened at home. Thankfully, tomorrow he could come to this place again, and see all his friends. Gaara had stared at him searchingly, and taken a drag of his cigarette.

"My dad was being an ass. Sorry I dragged you here," Naruto had apologized.

A cloud of smoke had been the only initial response he had gotten, until Gaara had spoken after a while.

"You can stay the night at my place, if you want."

"W-What?" Naruto had stuttered, surprised that his friend would offer such hospitality. "G-Gaara, thanks, but I can go back home, it's not like that. I mean, there's nothing wrong with my dad, or my home, it's just, oh god, now I feel dramatic and stupid."

In silence, Gaara had let him rant for a while, calmly enjoying his smoke.

"Whatever he did, you don't have to defend him."

"He did nothing, okay? It wasn't like that. Jeez, we just had a disagreement, that's all. Everything's alright."

As the sun had already set, Naruto shivered. Gaara had taken off his leather jacket, and placed it over Naruto's shoulders. The blond had looked at him with wide, surprised eyes. Oh, how it had felt warm, and now the scent of his tobacco and deodorant was all around him.

"You looked like you were cold," Gaara had explained calmly. "And it'll cover that bruise on your upper arm."

"Upper…?" Naruto had repeated, surprised, as he had twiddled the hem of his T-shirt. "I got it in P.E. class."

For an answer, Gaara had stared at him knowingly, with care and concern shining in his eyes. Naruto had swallowed. Once again, it had felt like Gaara saw through him, like there were no facades or secrets or coffins of lies he could hide in, without Gaara piercing through all of them.

Ever since that night, Gaara had been more emotionally open around him. He had even begun smiling at Naruto's stupid, feeble jokes.

Every time Naruto reminisced that night, bubbling happiness filled him up.

Gaara was his special friend. There was no one else like Gaara in this world.

They were friends. Good friends. But of course, Naruto reminded himself, he had a lot of friends, and Gaara happened to be just one of them.

In the congregation, they taught that being with another man was an unforgivable sin. Adultery was a serious sin as well. His parents were asking him about his girlfriend, if he had one already, now that Sakura had left him. They were expected to marry right away, because premarital sex was out of question, and his foster-parents were hoping for grandchildren.

They said he was starting to look odd. No wife, no family of his own.

Friends were allowed, of course. He had plenty of them, but the best one, Gaara, was not in the congregation. They were curious about him, sometimes, but they never knew.

They never knew of the things that held most importance.

Suddenly, Naruto felt awful and impure, and he hugged his knees, hoping that praying could make it all go away.

Like every night lately, Kiba was at home, on his computer. Lately, there was not much else to do, and to keep the anxious thoughts at bay, he had gotten immersed in an online game. Over the past weeks, he had been getting to know the other players, and set up his own clan. So far, members were joining his clan at an increasing pace, and it brought him some hope for the future.

Even if he had lost a few jobs due to his personal issues, at least he was still good with people.

His phone beeped. It was a message from Gaara: "Wanna hug me tonight?"

Quickly, Kiba responded: "And not just hug you, if you know what I mean. ;)"

Putting his phone away, Kiba shook his head, wondering what it would be about this time. The image of the moody redhead stuck in his head, the way his black clothes always hung over his gaunt frame, the permanent, dark rings around his dead-like eyes, the pervasive anxiety and anger emanating from him, his odd ideas and the way he sometimes came here only to sit still and stare at the wall.

They were lovers, and despite Gaara's moodiness, the redhead was a dream come true between the sheets. The mere idea of their nightly moments got Kiba's cheeks heated up.

Never, ever would Kiba have imagined that the almost scary, confident Gaara he met in high school, would today be his cherished boyfriend. They hadn't been close friends back then, merely classmates. That blond boy, Naruto, seemed to always hover around the redhead, leaving Kiba no chances of catching his attention.

Then again, Kiba knew he looked only average at best, and he had nothing to boast off about. In a way, it was still a wonder how Gaara had taken interest in him, when they had met in the library almost six months ago. Kiba had been looking for a book, and Gaara had been there to help him.

At first, Kiba had blushed brilliant red, stammering out something unintelligible. Gaara's vibrantly red hair, smooth skin, the dark rings around his attentive, jade eyes, and lastly, the strange, red tattoo on his forehead, had been a sight so breathtaking that Kiba had momentarily lost his ability to function.

Gently and patiently, Gaara had waited for him to collect himself and explain the book he was looking for. Ever since high school, Kiba had feared that Gaara would be mean or demeaning towards him, like those jerks that had bullied him. It was a life-changing moment, when Gaara smiled a small, polite smile at him, and guided him towards the correct section.

During the whole time, Kiba had stammered and blushed, and been vigorously ashamed of his lack of common knowledge when it came to books and stuff. It had felt like his flustered state somehow appealed to Gaara, and Kiba always remembered the moment of feeling accepted (and perhaps even desired) as his shameful, stuttery, dorky old self.

The blank look in Gaara's eyes had turned into something more vivid and personal, and in that moment, Kiba had stopped his fidgeting, and simply stared, caught. Silently, Gaara had taken out a pen from his pocket, holding the cap between his teeth, and lifted up Kiba's sleeve to write his phone number on his skin.

Startling out of his memories, Kiba jumped up from his chair, and began folding away the clothes he had haphazardly thrown around the apartment. The soda bottles lying around were put in plastic bags, and nervously, he aired the room. In manic speed, he washed the dirty dishes that had been marinating in the soapy water for the better part of the week.

By the time Gaara rang the doorbell, the macaronis were almost cooked. Kiba rushed to open the door.

"Come on in, the food is ready," Kiba greeted and walked back into the kitchen, and set the small table.

Gaara entered the room, bringing a scent of tobacco along. He coughed, he looked more sickly than the last time, his eyes cast down, his hair a mess.

"You look hot tonight," Kiba praised bluntly, and Gaara smiled.

"You don't look bad yourself, either," Gaara replied, as he took a small heap of macaronis to his plate.

"But there's so much more left here, won't you take some more?" Kiba wondered, and showed the pot to him.

"Thanks, this'll do," was all Gaara said, as he poured some ketchup on top.

Kiba frowned, because he felt like the redhead didn't eat enough. Then again, he wondered if Gaara was only being courteous, as he knew that Kiba had very little money to buy food. With a sigh, Kiba poured the rest of the macaronis to his plate.

Kiba couldn't help but keep on glancing at the beautiful man next to him. It had been almost a week since they last met, and all kinds of restless fantasies had swirled in his head in the meantime.

Gaara glanced at him, amused, as if he knew his thoughts. "Maybe we will have dessert in the bedroom, eh?"

"You read my mind," Kiba grinned, and started wolfing down his share.

Maybe it was because he was so full of emotions and had a strong libido, Kiba couldn't tell, but it was always hard to keep his hands off of the redhead. And Gaara always let him, and now the scent of old tobacco was mixing up with sweat and hot breath and moans.

"You're precious and I adore you," Kiba whispered, as they lay on the bed after their moment of passion. Gaara clung to his chest.

"You're precious, too," Gaara murmured, and snuggled closer. "I had anawful day."

"What happened?" Kiba asked, and smoothed down his red hair.

"Since morning, I've been feeling under the weather. After work, I met Naruto, and my head felt so tired that I was not much fun to be around. I'm scared he might think I was like that on purpose."

"There there, I'm positive Naruto will understand," Kiba soothed. "I'm sure he has had tired days, too, when you've been understanding towards him in the same sense."

"That's true," Gaara remembered, and felt better already. "I was so worried I wanted to die."

"Oh, Gaara," Kiba squeezed him and kissed the top of his head. "There you are being silly again. You're just a little silly goose," and then he gently booped Gaara's nose.

"I know I'm silly. I wasn't serious, I just felt like it at that moment."

"It's all right now. You're here with me, and I'm going to hug you all night."

In the morning, Kiba woke him up with a kiss. "There's coffee, come on."

"You have coffee?" Gaara was unbelieving, until he saw the shame on the brunet's face. "I mean… That's wonderful!"

Kiba shrugged and looked away. "It's instant coffee. The best before date was some time ago, but I thought that…"

"Hey, it's alright," Gaara quickly got up and hugged him. "You always take my needs into account in the sweetest way. It makes me feel special."

"You are special," Kiba murmured, kissing him again. "It still amazes me how we met. That someone like you would go out with a guy like me…"

"Hey, don't belittle yourself. You're the sweetest guy I've met," Gaara assured.

But Kiba didn't look convinced. "You had cool friends in high school. Like Naruto, and the beautiful girlfriends he had. And you and your brother have a car, and a house."

"Hey, you have a house as well," Gaara reminded, gesturing around.

"This is mom's house. And I'm just house-sitting this, while she lives with that man. She promised she'd come back, but I have a feeling they might get married," Kiba sighed wistfully.

Gaara smiled empathetically. "I know you miss her. She cares about you, Kiba. And grandpa build our small house almost 70 years ago. It really needs renovation, but we can't afford it. And Naruto, well, his foster-parents never divorced and are still alive, so."

"Yeah, I guess," Kiba agreed. "I just always thought that… That you would end up with Naruto."

Gaara snorted, as if he heard a joke. "He's straight. Besides, a guy like me would not be his type."

Kiba bit his lips deep in thought, and shrugged.

"Come on, don't belittle yourself," Gaara encouraged. "You have nothing to feel bad about yourself. You're precious to me."

As Gaara left Kiba's place, conflicting thoughts crisscrossed in his head.

He did like Kiba as a person. He was sweet and beautiful in his own, special way. Despite that, settling down with Kiba didn't feel like an option for Gaara. Sometimes he felt the connection, but there were times when Gaara felt like he was accidentally put into someone else's relationship, as if he was an alien wearing someone else's skin.

Then again, with his carefree way and jokes, Kiba made him laugh and immerse in TV shows and series Gaara would not have found without him. In Kiba's youthful presence, Gaara could forget his boring adult life for a while.

Speaking of boring adult life, Gaara couldn't believe he had ended up working in a library of all places. The most adults there had a suitable academic degree for the job, whereas Gaara wasn't as lucky. Even so, they had hired him, as in this isolated little town there was not enough job seekers to compete with. Nearby cities drew the luckiest ones out of here to build their better future elsewhere, but Gaara and his family had not had the means to leave.

For a long time, Gaara had feared Naruto would be one of those who left. He had a degree and a steady job. By now, it would be a suitable time for a man of his age to engage with a spouse and start a family. It would only be a matter of time until Naruto would go on with his life and leave this familiar life here behind. It felt like abandonment already.

A tight knot hurt in Gaara's chest, and he wished he didn't have to go to work.

He stopped. It felt so lonely and forsaken. A memory of Kiba emerged, and the realization that someone like Kiba would likely never leave him. It was both comforting and sad, but it was enough to get him back to moving.

After work, Gaara took a long stroll in the woods on his way home to clear his head. Setting sun painted tree trunks with a yellow glow. Birds chirped loudly hidden in the foliage, bees buzzed on nearby flowers, and rows of ants marched relentlessly across the path. Oh how less lonely it felt here.

Moss has covered a large rock almost completely. It's everlasting embrace reminded him how certain things took their time, and how his own life was just a blink of an eye on a greater scheme. The problems he had now, would not matter anymore after a hundred years. He was just a small stone on the grit road of life.

When he arrived home, he felt a lot more relaxed. Kankuro was sitting at the kitchen table, having a cup of coffee.

"Oh, there you are," Kankuro greeted with a smile. "Not too long ago, your friend Naruto stopped by."

"Naruto?"

"Yeah. He was looking for you. Said he'd call you or something," Kankuro muttered, and gave him a mysterious look.

"Did he say anything else? Was he worried?" Gaara inquired.

"Why would he be worried…?" Kankuro asked back, sipping his coffee with a piercing stare.

"No reason, forget it," Gaara waved it off.

"Has he asked you out yet?" Kankuro shot, unexpected.

"W-What? No, of course not. He's straight," Gaara blushed unwillingly.

"Oh, he is?" Kankuro pondered calmly. "He's cute, though."

"I know," Gaara smiled, "But for real, he's into women, you know."

"Oh, I get it. So I was mistaken. Anyway, what was Kiba up to?" Kankuro asked.

"The same, the usual," Gaara settled for, shrugging. "He said he met you on that one online game, what was its name again? Anyway, he said you're now in his clan?"

"Yeah, it was a pure coincidence, I had no idea there were locals on that platform. We've been playing together a few times, he's a good kid," Kankuro admitted hastily, quickly looking away, and sipped his coffee again.

"Yeah, he's alright," Gaara knew. "I just don't know if there's a future for us."

"Wow, you just met him. Don't give up so easily. Why would you have doubts?" Kankuro wondered.

"Well, I'm just not sure if there are enough things we have in common, you know? What if I'll miss something while I'm with him?" Gaara argued.

"Like Naruto?"

"He's straight," Gaara reminded.

"So you keep saying," Kankuro shrugged. "I just want the best for you, and I hate to see you miserable. I think that Kiba kid is a safe choice."

Gaara sighed. "He got me a game as a surprise gift. It's a game where you have to do calculations at an increasing speed."

"How thoughtful," Kankuro smiled.

"I work in a library. I work with books. Calculating has never been my enthusiasm, and I have never told him I'd be into something like that," Gaara explained.

"Well, maybe a gamer like him thinks a smart guy like you would love the game. Something from his world, and from yours, you see?" Kankuro offered.

"Whatever," Gaara grunted.

"At least he doesn't play mind games, he's honest," Kankuro reminded, and now the mysterious look was back again. "You should be honest with him, too."

"I am," Gaara assured, insincere.

Kankuro's knowing stare was too much, and so he escaped into his room.