Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Slasher ❯ The Eventide of Innocence Part 1 ( Chapter 7 )

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

I'm trying to get rid of writers block, so I'm making this chapter a part 1 and 2 thing. I would like to thank my reviewers, and I'm gong to be putting a Q to all my readers at the end of this chap.

Disclaimer: Gaara, he who was created in the mind of Masashi Kishimoto and placed upon paper, he who became a living being to so many millions through the medium of paper, TV and the ever great item of the human imagination, is not mine in the sense of ownership. But in my imagination, he is more than a creature to be owned. He is something to be expounded upon, his every virtue tested and evolved by any who see fit to do so. I do not own Naruto. I do not own any of its characters. There are characters that I have either created or have transformed from real-life examples into this story. These characters are subject to my ownership.

Gaara stopped in front of the large double-doors and gathered himself before pushing forward. His small frame entered the gym only seconds before the bell gave toll to the passing period. Unfortunately, that didn’t save him from being yanked forward to stand in front of the class by whom he presumed must be the teacher. The man was of a horrid state of mind, accompanied by black bowl cut hair and green jumpsuit to match.
Gaara pulled his offended arm out of the man’s grasp with a snarl and turned to face his class. Not paying heed, Gai-sensei began to shout about the glories of having a new student. After a few minutes of this, he finally allowed Gaara to disappear within his student ranks. As he did so, Gaara recognized a few students. Both Neji and Sasuke, for one. Then there was that barely-awake-on-his-feet-thing oft referred to as Shikamaru and a few other seniors from his first period class. After that, he didn’t recognize anybody.
But if Gaara thought Kiba was bad, his next encounter was something out of true nightmare. The gym doors slammed open beneath cataclysmic force, a single blur of shocking orange and blonde catching the eye as it flew through them. The blur came to a sudden halt beside him, revealing tanned skin and blue eyes that shone with a need to be seen. The orange-jacketed boy turned to him.
“HEY! YOU’RE NEW, AREN’T YOU?!” the figure shouted from a distance of only two feet from Gaara’s ear as it pointed at him. Much as he had chided himself not to, Gaara couldn’t retain an amiable state long with that annoyance around. His head snapped around, his short bangs flying with the sudden movement, and his eyes narrowed into thin slits within their dark pools of kohl as his lips pulled back to reveal sharp teeth.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP BEFORE I KILL YOU!” Gaara snapped at the blonde. For the second time that day, an entire classroom was silenced. The echoing ring of Gaara’s scream reverberated throughout the gymnasium and students stared, gaping. Even Gai-sensei had the sense to not interfere.
The blonde just stared for a long moment, uncomprehending, before asking in a slightly more sedate voice: “You’re new, right?” he asked again.
Gaara stared at him, his already glaring eyes taking on a hint of disbelief. He had heard of dumb-blondes before, but this was taking it way past the limit. “What does it look like…?” He rasped out in stretched and breathy voice, contemplating future death for the over-exuberant blonde.
“Geez! Okay, okay! I get the idea! I’m Uzumaki Naruto. Who’re you?” Naruto asked, holding his arms forwards and flapping his hands about as if to fend Gaara off. Gaara gave him a angry glare, pointedly reminding himself over and over again that he was supposed to be nice.
“Sabaku no Gaara. And don’t ever do that again.”, he finally grated out as he turned away and crossed his arms over his chest in a standoffish manner, clearly ignoring any further attempts at communication. Gai-sensei finally had the sense to speak up, letting the usual hubbub and murmuring regain its former volume, this time with odd looks cast the redhead’s way.
“Umm…students, its - uh, time to get changed into your P.E. uniforms.” He stated, his shakiness leaving after he got his mental ‘feet’ under him, so to speak. “Gaara, you don’t have one yet, so you don’t have to get dressed out. You have until next week to get one, then I’ll be forced to start taking off grade points. What an atrocity to our youth this grading system is!”
Gaara just ignored him and leaned up against the wall, waiting for the other students to come back out from the respective boys or girls locker rooms. It was about five minutes, when Neji came out and stood by him in a determined stance, Sasuke following shortly thereafter. The rest of the students trickled out in a more or less steady stream until all nineteen had exited into the gym. They stood about, waiting to be sent to their assigned spots for roll call and stretches.
Gai pointed out towards the center of the gym and all the students filed out to stand where they were supposed to, Gai assigning Gaara into a spot between Sasuke and Naruto. Unfortunately, the blonde was in front of him and seemed to have a habit of turning around to try to talk to him or Sasuke. This was nothing short of annoying, although after a few minutes, it had far surpassed that point. Even the ever stoic Uchiha had developed a twitch in his left eye. But then again, if you had somebody like Naruto asking you WHY exactly you wore Hanes boxers…Gaara completely understood just how far the blonde was stretching the others patience.
Fortunately, just then, they were commanded to begin their stretches. First it was hurdle stretches for ten seconds each, then it was fifteen crunches and ten push-ups. A suitable enough workout for lazy high school students. Then came the running. They ran five laps around the gym, then walked three, then ran another four and sprinted one before walking for a handful of minutes to get their breath back.
Gaara noticed that, although he had never really been athletic, he was one of the top runners. Surprising, to say the least. But then again, he hadn’t had to take an actual physical course in his last school. He’d never had a chance to merit his physical ability against other students before. He wasn’t anywhere near as fast as Uchiha or the Hyuuga, but he was certainly faster than Naruto or most of the other classmates. But that could be remedied. Uncaring about appearances as he was, Gaara still didn’t like to be shown up when he could actually make a small effort on his part and excel at something. And so, Gaara actually found himself making an effort at doing something. Who knows, maybe he could actually play the basketball that was scheduled for that day. Meanwhile, some small part of him wondered why exactly he even bothered, but gave up to the fact that Gaara could actually do something if he wanted to put in the effort.

Teams were chosen leaders wee selected, Sasuke at the head of one team, Shikamaru grumbling at the head of the other. Shika had already selected Naruto and Chouji, leaving Sasuke to pick two. He invariably chose Neji before examining the rest.
“You.” He pointed and it took Gaara a moment to realize that he was the subject of the point. A hairless brow and a slender black one rose in unison as both Neji and Gaara gave Sasuke an evaluating look. Finally assessing that the Uchiha was not joking, the sophomore crossed over to stand with the two seniors. A few minutes later, and teams were equally divided between the nineteen students, only a spike haired senior named Zaku standing along the side lines to hold score.
Sasuke looked at Gaara for a long moment before asking a question. “Do you even know how to play basketball?”
Gaara shrugged and said simply, “No. But I can learn.” Taking the matter as settled, they moved to their respective positions on the court and waited for the game to begin.

Thirty minutes later, nineteen hot, sweaty boys filed into the locker room. Sasuke’s team celebrating another smashing win that left Shikamaru’s group in the dirt. Sasuke and Neji’s superior smirks only served to enrage further a livid Naruto, who was shouting at the sleeping Shikamaru whom had called himself out and laid on a nearby bench. If he had managed to stay awake, the genius probably could have thought up a game plan to rival the raw force of the other team. But in his own words, it was “Too troublesome…”. Therefore, Sasuke’s team won again and Gaara learned that he actually could play basketball. He also learned that it was an extremely tiring and sweaty process. If he didn’t change clothes, he’d smell like gym clothes. Not an inviting idea, to say in the least. Thankfully, Sasuke decided that it was due in part to Gaara that the blonde dobe had been knocked out of the game. In amused spirits, he decided to lend Gaara an undershirt, a tee and some jeans.
“Here. Just give them back tomorrow.” Sasuke stated in a monotonous voice as he handed the change of clothes over. Nodding, Gaara took them and found a secluded corner of the locker room to in which to change. He glanced about quickly to ensure that nobody saw, then quickly shed his own undershirt and replaced it with the new. After that, it was no problem exiting his former clothes and changing out into the clothes he had borrowed from Sasuke. The navy undershirt was one of the stretchy versions, so it fit him pretty well, but every thing else hung somewhat off of his thin frame. For a skinny kid, Gaara was pretty fit, but he really didn’t have any muscle mass to fill out the clothes. It really didn’t help that he was vertically challenged as well. And in so being, the jeans fit barely hanging off his hips and the black tee shirt gathered loosely to puddle around one side of his shoulders. Temari would have called it cute. Gaara just didn’t care.
Gaara shoved his sweaty clothes into an empty locker and headed back out to the gym to await the ringing of the bell. No sooner than he had sat down on a bleacher than the bell let out a shrill ring, and Gaara had to leave to his next class.
He walked down the hall and noticed that Naruto and Zaku were heading in the same direction he was. As he opened the plain wooden door labeled 211, they walked in with him. An older man was standing at the front of the class, his knee length white hair jogging back and forth as he wrote a passage on the board, the sound of chalk against board being the predominate sound in the room. Gaara looked around and noticed that the seats in this class didn’t seem to be assigned, so he chose one by a side window and sat down. Running a bored hand through his damp ruby locks, he regarded what the teacher was writing on the board with a slight raise to his brow.
Passages from a novel he had seen only once, in the possession of one of Temari’s friends. They had left it lying on the coffee table in the living room; an innocent looking little orange novel. He had picked it up, curious of its contents. He had flipped it to a page in the middle and read less than two paragraphs before clapping it shut and lying it back on the table with a faint blush to his pale cheeks. Needless to say, it wasn’t exactly suitable reading for young audiences. It was also how he knew that his first period teacher, Hatake Kakashi, had been reading a dirty novel. The novel his art teacher had been reading was a novel from the exact same series as the one that he had picked up two years back. Many times over the past few years, the short scene that he had read replayed over and over again in his mind on dark and sleepless nights when the chill breeze rattled the frosted panes of his window in rapid gusts.
Gaara was very well assured that his English teacher was more than a pervert. The old man probably ranked provert, if not even worse than that.
Finally, the teacher turned away from the board just as the bell rang, signaling that everybody should be seated and prepared for class.
“Alright, today we’re going to analyze this passage from Icha Icha Paradaisu Vol. 1, and your homework is to take home a copy of the book and read chapters one through four and fill out the worksheet that I’m passing out at the end of class. Oh, and we have a new student. One Sabaku no Gaara, so my attendance sheet says. I believe that that would be you.” he finished, gesturing to Gaara. Replying with a curt nod, Gaara tugged at the loose weave of one of his fishnet gloves as the teacher began to go over the different literary terms for different parts of the passage. How boring indeed. If there were something less interesting than literary terms at that moment, Gaara would have been surprised to have known it existed.
“And so, class, is how you determine…” the teacher droned on, gesturing with his chalk at the marks on the blackboard.

A grand total of forty five minutes later, Gaara finally made it out of class, a small orange novel clasped inconspicuously beneath one arm. He headed directly for his locker in order to get rid of the damn thing as quickly as possible. Locker opened, book tossed inside and locker slammed shut once again with Gaara quickly retreating into the distance in search of his history class.
All the way around to the other side of the school, and there it was: Room 108, Umino Iruka. Walking in, Gaara decided that this class might be more interesting than the last few. At least this class room was homey feeling, having inherited a sense of personality from its constant inhabitant, a young and narrow man with brown hair held high by a band and with a scar adding a touch of flavor to his otherwise normal face. A student was already in the class collecting papers from the teacher to pass out during class. At first, Gaara thought it was a girl, but then the long haired boy turned to flash a warm smile in his direction and he realized his mistake.
Looking up, the teacher noticed Gaara and an open smile overtook his tanned features in greeting to his newest pupil. Iruka rose and paced towards Gaara, raising a hand in a palm-upward handshaking gesture. Gaara stared at the out held hand for a moment before taking up on the offer and giving the other man’s hand a brief yet firm shake.
“I assume that you are Gaara, correct?” Iruka asked. Gaara confirmed him with a brisk nod. “Not a talker? That’s okay. As long as your work is turned in on time, I have no quarrel with you. Well, class is scheduled to begin in a moment, so Haku here will direct you to your desk. Haku?” This last was addressed to the long-haired boy that was just now done sorting the papers he had been handed.
“Ah, yes Iruka-sensei. Right this way, Gaara-chan.” Gaara rose a brow in reference to the familiarity with which Haku spoke to him as the other led him to a desk near a side window.
“Here we are, Gaara-chan.” Haku seemed to think a moment before asking a question. “If I may ask, what brings you to Konoha? You don’t have to answer if you don’t wish to do so. I’m just a little curious.” That said, Haku stood in wait of a response.
“Trouble at my last school.” was all that Gaara said as he stared disinterestedly out the window, completely ignoring the other students that had taken up residence in the room. Haku walked off and took his own seat in the front row as Iruka took a stand in front of the class.
“Alright, since we’ve been studying western history this week, I’ve brought a guest today. He’s all the way from The United States, Texas to be exact. Students, meet Yamashiro Aoba.” A tall blonde haired man walked in from the door in the back of the classroom. “And although I call him a guest, he will actually be staying here for the rest of the year in order to finish his training here in Konoha.” Iruka turned to the man and gave him a handshake before sitting in his chair. Much to his surprise, Aoba chose not to sit in the chair provided him, nor remain standing, but instead chose to sit on the edge of Iruka’s desk.
“Um, well, Aoba-san.” Iruka began. “How about you tell the students here about where you’re from, what it is exactly that you do, and why you’re here.” Nodding as if his work there were done, Iruka settled back to watch his students reactions to what Aoba told them about the U.S.


I would like to ask of you, who have waited so long, a question. Whom should eventually become paired with Gaara?
Please RnR. All comments and answers are welcome, although I may not incorporate all responses into future pairings.