Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Slasher ❯ Come Morning, Come Unto Thyself ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A/N: This is going to be a good story. I can tell.

Side note: If you don't like Yaoi, I'd suggest you don't read past Chapter Eight. I plan on putting men in bed, if and or other places, with other men later on in this story. I've only written 1 story that is not Yaoi. The other five or so are all Yaoi. There will always be Yaoi. You can count on it.

Disclaimer: If you think that I own Naruto, you have need of visiting a local and over-rated psychiatrist. I have, however, owned Gaara, Orochimaru, Kimimaru, and Sasuke (along with Itachi and all at the same time!) in my dreams.

Here goes!

Gaara woke up to the shrill trilling of his alarm clock at exactly six o’ clock in the morning. His body being loath to move, he settled for rolling over flat on his face. Fuck school. I’m not moving.
“Gaara! Gaara! It’s Monday, dammit! Get up!” Temari’s voice rang out from the hallway, causing Gaara’s brow to twitch in annoyance. Just like always, another quiet morning ruined by the return of weekday events.
Even though he didn’t want to, Gaara rolled himself out of bed and stood, sleepily rubbing at his eyes. For once, he had actually gotten some sleep, which may be a contributing factor to a possibly good attitude later on in the day. Nevertheless, Gaara was still easily annoyed at this early hour. One of his pale hands shot out and knocked the still shrieking alarm clock off of his dresser, effectively silencing it. That would mean another trip to the store sometime today and the buying of another alarm clock. Gaara took out at least one alarm clock a month. Kankurou had taken out one for everyday of the week before they had decided it was best that he not get another one. Mostly it was Temari’s say in the matter. Gaara never really said much, especially not concerning alarm clocks.
Heading for his closet, Gaara kicked the broken piece of machinery across his bedroom floor. Having reached his destination, he opened the door and stared glumly at the dismal selection of clothing before him. Not much to say about it in the least. Grabbing a favorite long-sleeve undershirt, a black tee and a pair of loose black jeans and slammed the door shut. He then pulled a pair of boxers from a dresser drawer to complete the outfit before heading to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change out his bandages.
After tossing his selected articles of clothing onto the closed toilet seat, Gaara stripped off his night-time clothes before removing his dressings, taking note that his wounds were not unduly inflamed. Good, he thought. I don’t need that right now, anyways.
Having assessed his condition, he stepped into the shower and pulled the door shut behind him. A moment later and steam began to cloud the mirror as the sounds of bathing could be heard within.

Temari poured orange juice into three glasses and set them on the table to wait upon the arrival of her brothers before she grabbed the bowl of pancake mix that she had made earlier and dished out proper-sized blobs of mix onto the hissing griddle that adorned their stove.
Occasionally checking back on the pancakes, she tended the bacon in the skillet upon the other burner. This was her usual morning chore; preparing breakfast for Kankuro, Gaara and herself. Anything from apple juice and French toast to milk and waffles could be depended upon her to serve on most any morning.
Better her than Kankuro, or god forbid, Gaara trying to make a presentable meal. At least Kankuro could put pastries in the toaster and have something reasonably warm pop out. Gaara couldn’t even do that without burning something. Not necessarily the toaster pastries, either. Poor kid.
Flipping pancakes and bacon onto a platter and turning off the burners, Temari placed the big dish in the center of the table just as Kankuro managed to drag his ass into a chair and open his eyes for probably the first time this morning. Only moments after Kankuro had loaded down his plate with fully-edible grub, Gaara ghosted into the room and settled himself silently into a chair. He grabbed a few slices of bacon and a pancake or two and set to eating with a better appetite than usual.
He’s feeling good this morning, Temari thought before smiling happily at her little brother and sitting down herself. She was pleased with his response; the corners of his mouth having curled faintly upwards, and not in that scary way he usually did it. Definitely feeling good.

Gaara slid into the back seat of Kankuro’s black hearse and leaned against the seat as Kankuro got into the driver’s seat and Temari jumped into the passenger’s side. First, Kankuro would take himself to his and Gaara’s high school, and then Temari would drive herself over to her college in the next town over which was only about fifty miles away. Reverse order in the afternoon, Temari would come and pick them up and they would all go somewhere or back home.
Temari dropped Kankuro and Gaara off at the circle in front of their school and headed off as they made their way across the school yard and went inside. Students parted to make way for them and well they did. Kankuro was one of the surliest seniors to ever grace Suna High, and he liked to keep it that way. Gaara was just Gaara. People stayed away from him out of fear for their well being. When you even brushed his buttons, he could go off with no warning. Other days you could irritate him for a good while before he went off on you.
As anybody who had spent any amount of time going to Suna High could tell you, Gaara had been just like Kankuro in temper a few weeks before his father had died in a suspiciously faked accident. Then he just went blank, and a few days later, his father was dead and Temari was their legal guardian. Very suspicious indeed. Especially when the fiery haired boy began to snap with the littlest influence.
Having split the Red Sea of Students, or so to speak, the brothers continued past the cafeteria and on to the upstairs hall. None of the teachers even looked their way, even though students were not allowed to wander the upstairs hall before First Bell. They made their silent way down the echoing halls and entered Gaara’s first period class, English II, almost fifteen minutes before class was due to begin. Gaara’s teacher, Mr. Reyes, sat in his desk with his heels kicked back on the hardwood desk.
After glancing up at their entrance as he did every weekday morning, he said “You’re too early. How come I have to help you every morning before I can teach anyone else?” as he also said every weekday morning. This was usual protocol in Mr. Reyes’ class for Gaara. All he ever did was sit down in his desk at the far back of the room and open his English book to today’s assignment. He was almost always done by the time the bell for class rang, that way he could do whatever he wanted during class while maintaining moderate to high grades in at least one class.
Kankuro waved at his little brother and left, leaving the redhead alone with The-Female-Half-of-the-School’s-Favorite-Teacher.

A bell rang over head and students began to reluctantly pour into Gaara’s First Period English II class. A few of the girls perked up measurably when they remembered just how hot their teacher way, but most of the students were still unwilling to begin their school day. After about ten minutes of disorderly conduct, Mr. Reyes stood in front of the class and began asking questions about the students latest book report project that was due next Thursday. Everybody else had done their reports on Speak, a book a bout some girl who gets raped that they had read in class last week. Gaara had done his on The Long Hard Road Out Of Hell by Marilyn Manson. He rarely, if ever, did a book report on the same book as everybody else, but Mr. Reyes graded according to how well done as apposed to subject matter.
Having spent the first fifteen minutes of class writing down a note or two on what their next project would be, Gaara pulled out a book by Stephen King, Pet Sematary and began to read.

It was Second Period and Shukaku, as Gaara had dubbed his demon, was muttering in his head. Just infantile, harmless things for now, but it would probably escalate into a scathing rage by the time school was out. For twenty minutes, he had been enduring some chic named Hailee singing some popular rap song that followed the lines of “Gettin’ sum head, gettin’, gettin’ sum head. I was gettin’ sum head” or some such. It would have been alright, normally, but not twenty minutes of ceaseless repeating of the same handful of lines over and over again. Gaara’s head snapped up and he snarled in the general direction of the girl and she shut up fast enough for his liking. Bending his head down to work on his paper again, Gaara noticed the math teacher, Mr. Fiend, glaring at him from behind the overhead projector. Great, another teacher that was going to get on his case. Thank some deity that there were only three more periods until lunch. Then he could go and cool off outside for about an hour.
The bell finally rang and he shot up out of his seat and walked at a fast pace out the door and into the hallway. His next class period was Health and Coach Allen wasn’t there today, so he had a more or less free period where his class would stay at the Computer Lab and he could do something interesting for once. He walked to his locker, thankfully on the top row, and spun the combination. He popped it open and tossed his Math book in on top of the rest of his books and slammed the door shut.
Gaara headed down the stairs towards the Computer Lab, walking by Kankuro on his way down and getting a small wave which was returned along with a bored “Mnh.” Gaara walked into the Lab and settled himself at what was reserved as ‘his’ computer whenever one of his classes was in the Lab. It was one of the faster computers in the room, with less loading time, and it was in a corner of the room that nobody could see his screen unless they came around and walked up directly behind him. But they wouldn’t get that far with Gaara’s acid gaze burning holes into them.
He logged in under his school ID and popped up MSN and a web window or two, selecting where he wanted to go as he did so. He decided on checking out a few forums for his favorite bands and a couple of picture searches for weird and amusing things. Next, he signed in on MSN and a chatroom and watched his screen fill up with other people’s conversations.


*SuicideIsPainless* has logged in.
Nihilist_Countess: who the hell is Suicideispainless? i keep seein em‘ who are you?
NightDreamer: How the hell should I know? He never replies. *waiting for SuicideIsPainless to reply*
Nihilist_Countess: ….he ain’t gonna he don’t like us I can tell….
*SuicideIsPainless*: How do you know that?
Nihilist_Countess: it speaks!
NightDreamer: o.O
RichieRich: No shit?
*SuicideIsPainless*: ….
TRUTH or DARE: thas jus whac
The Hailee: Gettin’ sum head, gettin’ gettin’ sum head
The Hailee: Wait did that dude just say something?
*SuicideIsPainless*: I can.
Lordo’thaPuppets: Hey, cool. Welcome to the chat.
*SuicideIsPainless*: Thanks.
Lordo’thaPuppets: No problem. Where do you go to school at?
*SuicideIsPainless*: :D
Lordo’thaPuppets: ?
*SuicideIsPainless*: Closer than you think, Kankuro.
The Hailee: Kankuro?!
Nihilist_Countess: wow he actually talks on the web like a normal person…
NightDreamer: No shit. He’s sitting three chairs down from me. Shit. He just waved.
NightDreamer: You just waved.
Lordo’thaPuppets: No shit, Sherlocke.
Lordo’thaPuppets: SuicideIsPainless….
*SuicideIsPainless*: What?
Lordo’thaPuppets: Is that you, Gaara?
*SuicideIsPainless*: Yes.
NightDreamer: o.O
Nihilist_Countess: CoooooooooooooooooooooooooooL!
The Hailee has logged off.
RichieRich: ….Who is Gaara? I’m from Wave High…
TRUTH or DARE: im from konoha…i don’t know you…
Nihilist_Countess: now that youre actually speaking can i have an autograph?
*SuicideIsPainless*: An autograph? Why?
Nihilist_Countess: youre so cool an all that
*SuicideIsPainless*: Where are you?
Nihilist_Countess: at computer # 13 and the bells about to ring
Nihilist_Countess has logged off.
Lordo’thaPuppets has logged off.
NightDreamer has logged off.
*SuicideIsPainless* has logged off.

Gaara signed out of the chatroom and logged off of the computer. He glanded over at Station Thirteen and saw one of those touch-me-I’ll-kill-you type of girls rustling around in her book bag for something. She pulled it out so that he could see it was a scrap book which she flipped to an empty page and grabbed a red pen and headed over to his station. Gaara glared at her, but she kept right on walking right up to him and held the book out to him.
“You promised. Or, well, actually you didn’t, but you implied you would.” She grinned at him and shoved the pen at him. Gaara grimaced at her. Great. His very own fan girl. And as if she could read it on his face, “And I’m not a fan girl. I just want a signature.” Sighing, Gaara took the pen with a look of distaste and signed a big ‘Sabaku no Gaara’ across the page and made it look like blood was dripping from his name.
“See. That was all I wanted.” Gaara only glared at her. “Alright, alright! I’ll go.” With that, she walked off just as the bell rang. Gaara picked up his own book bag and headed out the door to go to his Fourth Period class, Biology with Mr. Cozby. As long as he did his work and didn’t piss off the teacher, he’d be alright. One bad thing. This was also a class he shared with Hailee. There was no knowing what might happen.
He walked in and sat at his customary desk at the back. A moment later all the rest of the students poured in and made themselves comfortable. Hailee glanced at him and that was all. Piping up from the desk in front of him was a big time prep as she turned to look at him. “Why are you always here so early?” Gaara sent her dagger glares, but she was oblivious. “Well? Answer me!”
“Because I hate you.” Were the silver moonlight words that Shukaku pushed forth from between his lips. “You’re so fucking dumb. Why the fuck can’t you just die like you deserve to. I can help…” His voice was meshed with that of Shukaku’s and it came out as the dry rustle of desert sand shifting with the wind. The girl pulled away from him and complained to the teacher at the front of the room.
“Coach Cozby!! He cussed at me and told me he wants me to die! He’s so creepy, sir! Do I have to sit by him?” She wailed, earning his teachers wrath. Great. Just great. Shukaku was screaming now. The girl’s wailing had struck a nerve. As the teacher reprimanded him, and not softly, a tic developed first in one eye, then the other before it spread down to form into the crazed grin that was Shukaku’s trademark gaze. His eyes grew wide and bloodshot and Shukaku whispered poison in his ear.
She started it. Kill her. She wants to die…Look at him…Look at him challenge us…will you take that? Will you let him command us? Let me have him…mine…mine…I want it…the blood…dripping…over our hands…remember…the feel…of being sated…take what is yours to take…the blood…
The whispered poison eroded his self control. For a moment, just a moment, he became Shukaku. But it was enough. Such a small moment, yet enough to deck the bigger, stronger man that was Coach Cozby and send him unconscious to the floor. Enough to have him reaching out for the girl when he came back to himself with Shukaku pawing and tearing to get out. He used what little control he had to yank himself away, grab his book bag and run out the door, the shocked silence of the room behind him erupting into a frantic babble. He had let Shukaku have control for only a moment, but the amount of time had seemed forever. How could he get out of this one? He had never attacked a teacher, never even actually attacked a student, really. Now he had done both. And to a teacher he actually kind of liked as far as teachers go. If he was lucky, he’d go to Juvenile Suspension. Most likely, though, best not to think of most likely.
Gaara ran down the halls and out of the school building entirely, heading out into the middle of the street and running along it until he lost the power to run anymore. He collapsed in a grassy area beneath a tree and laid there with his vision blurring. The last thing he remembered was thinking of what would happen to him now.

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