Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Taking Your Life Back ❯ Wonderful Christmas Morning ( Chapter 9 )

Snow followed me through the door, winds picking up enough to blow it through the door past me. My blanket was icy, and I threw it off when the door was closed by the redhead, arms outstretched with a loud and shaky groan of discomfort and misery. Gaara smiled, leaning against the door calmly as I huddled myself together.

 

“...Ran away again?” he quietly laughed. I jerked around to him, menacing glare in my eyes. He coughed nervously.

 

“...Yeah, sorry,” he apologized, his silky soft quiet tone calming me. I slumped my shoulders, looking around slowly.

 

“...Nah, it's okay, I guess...Nice place.”

 

He pushed himself off the door and walked past me, gliding stride in tow. Gaara was maybe only 2 or 3 inches smaller than me, but his childish size told nothing of his violent attitude towards life in general, people. He curled two fingers at me, motioning to follow as he descended like death to his room.

 

His room held an eerie glow of incompletion. His walls were painted an adobe brown, and there held a tiny bed and a walk-in closet. There were a few stray magazines, one was really a newspaper, and the other looked to be porn. But it added just a little depth into the emptiness of this living space; a feeling like it's been lived in. A lamp was burning dimly, but no table was under it, for it stood on the floor beside an alarm clock that glared out the red time of 7:09. I let out a tiny shriveled sigh, coughing lightly with a fist at my mouth. Gaara glanced over at me, but I waved him off, withholding another spasm of the lungs. He shrugged at me, turning away to rummage through the closet. I sat on the bed across the big empty room, eyeing the ceiling with another muffled hack erupting from my throat. The movement in the closet stopped momentarily before continuing. The bed was plain and not even that comfortable. With silk sheets of blood, though, it looked beautiful to the eyes.

 

“Here...”

 

A sweatshirt was thrown at my face, and I pulled it over my eyes. It was orange with blue shoulders, a giant red swirl on the back. I liked it, so I pulled it over my naked torso. It was quite big, sagging at my stomach to make me look fat, so it must have been even bigger on little Gaara.

 

“Thanks!” I called out. I saw him nod, throwing all the other clothes back into the closet carelessly.

 

I had known Gaara since 4th grade, and at the time, he was almost the same as me. I had no one to rely on, and neither did he. His brother and his sister had hated him for the fact that their mother had died shortly after giving birth to him, his father hating for the same reason. In 2nd grade, his siblings Temari and Kankuro, both being only a year or two older than Gaara, had begun to spread rumors about Gaara, telling them of the many times where he had threatened to kill them, and the children believed every single one. But Gaara had never killed anyone, never even had the thought cross his mind. But the turn of events, resulting in not a friend to be beside, he had led to the assumption that he was supposed to kill. At the time, Gaara had only once killed a grasshopper by accidentally stepping on it, and he cried. But one day at school, he had taken the taunting seriously, and attempted to kill a boy by suffocating him, face down in a sand box. Teachers had rushed to the scene, with both kids broken down into crying heaps of misery. Afterwards, his father had taken him to counseling, which in the end didn't help one bit. When he was issued into 4th grade, he became more violent, quiet, and dark. He had developed dark rings around his eyes from his lack of sleep and insanity, he wore black clothes to school, and he always carried with him a pocket knife. While he looked dangerous whenever you looked at him, his attitude never wavering, he was nothing like that to begin with. I had approached him along with my friend Lee, and he had pushed us away silently. I didn't take no for an answer, so me and Lee sat beside him every day during school. He did nothing.

 

One day, Gaara had begun to notice the parents that picked their children up. How happy they looked to see their child, and vice versa. Lee's father looked exactly like the boy, and before going home, they'd share a dramatic hug full of tears and happiness. Gaara would cringe most of the time to turn away, but steal glances at Lee when he thought no one was looking. I saw, because I had no one else to look at.

 

The day after, Gaara had asked to meet Lee on the playground. Lee knew of the danger behind that offer, but he had taken the chance, saying it was a great challenge to overcome. Though Gaara began to softly talk to him, in the way his sultry voice had deepened since 2nd grade, no longer the squeaky innocent kid he was. Something in him had broken; either it was jealousy of Lee's friends and family, or just the downright fact that Gaara had hated him. But the fight had broken out. Gaara had grabbed him by the shoulders and thrown him down, and it began as wrestling. This being the playground, metal contraptions in a pit of sand, Gaara had taken the opportunity to pick up a handful of the grainy rocks and throw them in Lee's eyes. With blindness, Lee fought back against the smaller yet strong body trying to kill him. Gaara, in Lee's disabled state of blindness, had picked him up and threw him down against the strong metal bars of the monkey bars protruding from the ground. A sickening crack was heard as his left arm was smashed against it. Lee gave out a pained scream as Gaara lifted his left leg to do the same, a second crack ensuing. Gaara would have kept going too, if Lee's father hadn't been alerted by myself to go help him. I was too small, smaller than Gaara, at the time. And Lee had gotten beaten thoroughly, even though Gaara was atleast 4 inches shorter and so much smaller. I couldn't help anyone. Lee was taken to the hospital, and didn't come back to school for a full 3 weeks. During the time, I had stayed away from Gaara. I knew not to return.

 

4 months after the incident with Lee, and by this time, Lee had not even fully recovered; he had started a fight with Sasuke. It was then that I met Sasuke truthfully, and now that I reminisce, he looks exactly as he did back then, his black hair jetting out in the back and those piercing albeit big black eyes. I had fallen for his cool demeanor.

 

A girl, now that I realize that the girl was in fact Sakura, had tried to break it up, and only got beaten before anyone could stop him. Her lifeless body was beside him while he fought Sasuke, who did put up a wonderful fight, and would have finished it, if he hadn't been sick as of lately. He was coughing and he was having trouble standing, so I jumped in. Gaara had been startled, really, with the fact that I was his friend, and that I had begun to fight him even though I couldn't stand up during the fight with Lee. This time, I had to save Sakura, and help Sasuke. So we took on the fight.

 

It was quite long, for being against someone who fought all the time and someone who had never really fought anyone in their life. But I had tried my hardest, and so had he, but I'm guessing my determination was dominate. During the fight, I had begun talking to him, but I doubt he had wanted to listen. I continued anyway, and it was grating his nerves, so he began to fight harder, punch back faster. I took it all. I had told him there was no point to this fight, that I really liked him, and that I had to fight for what I thought was right. And these things had only made him angrier, and while we fought, people watched silently.

 

“I REALLY LIKE YOU, GAARA!”

 

“THAT'S A FUCKING LIE!”

 

These spats were short, loud, and were getting no where. Finally tired, I grabbed him by the shoulders, and I cracked our skulls together. Blood trickled from our foreheads, and we looked at each other. I was crying, and he watched me with widely tired eyes.

 

“...I do like you...” I had whispered. Everyone around us was silent. Sasuke watched with narrow eyes, following our tender movements. Gaara's aqua eyes quivered.

 

“...How do I know if you're lying?”

 

“...Trust me...I can't lie...”

 

Our grasps on each other loosened, and closing our eyes, he fell backwards to the ground in unconsciousness. Temari and Kankuro slowly made their way to Gaara, looking down at their brother's calmed body, full of understanding. They carried him home, cradled up to him. I had no energy left to lift my eyelids, and my breath was becoming shallower and shallower. I was ready to pass out when someone helped me up by the shoulder, my senses dimming quickly.

 

“...Usuratonkachi...”

 

“...Naruto?”

 

I looked up at him from my place on his bed as he watched me, those black rings under his eyes permanently daring to pick a fight. I smiled widely at him, and he smiled back, the foreboding darkness gone forever from his face.

 

“...What are you doing? Staring off into space again?”

 

“Of course” I answered with a grin, “that's what I do best!”

 

He gestured at me again, and I stood quickly to follow him. The house was small, and he wasn't really planning for anything bigger. This house was only something he had during the breaks. Summer vacation, Christmas week, Spring Break, all of the holidays, he spent here. His father, though his siblings had finally warmed up to him, would not allow Gaara in his home. So he had sent him off to boarding school or something like that. He had told me he didn't like living there anyway, so he wasn't upset in the least. He did miss Temari, and even Kankuro, but he saw them at school sometimes after school and at lunch. Being far away from family like that was giving him heartache, he had told me. It was a strange thing going on with his father that kept his life from continuing correctly.

 

“Sit down,” he told me, waving a hand over to the crimson sofa. I did as I was told, curling myself up to repress the cold. I shivered and sneezed. Gaara stopped before continuing to the kitchen.

 

“...Are you sick, Naruto?” he called out. I shook my head, but he was in the kitchen, so he couldn't see it anyway.

 

“No, I'm not!” I called back. I could practically hear his smirk, a little mockingly funny grunt escaping him. “Really!” I assured. The next thing I knew, a blanket was draped over my sunshine hair.

 

“Sure you aren't,” he said, handing me a mug of hot chocolate. He himself had tea, since he had never been fond of sweet things like I am. I blew across the streaming liquid with a whistle. He threw himself lazily over the cushiony black recliner across from me, his eyes narrowed darkly unconsciously.

 

“...So what's going down, hm?” he called out from behind his cup of tea. I looked up at him from under the warm fleece blanket, sipping lightly on the drink.

 

“...A lot of things...Should I even attempt at updating you?”

 

“...I'd very much appreciate it, thank you,” he quietly whispered before sipping the tea, his eyes drifting over to a picture of Temari and Kankuro, softness lacing his pupils.

 

I smiled lightly, a breathy sigh escaping my throat without opening my mouth. I rested my elbows on my knees.

 

“...Well...I've got myself...You know...” I began. He glanced at me.

 

“...A puppy? A kitten? AIDS? Lung Cancer? In trouble? A promotion? A new house? A girl? ...A guy?” he started filling in the blank, and I would have liked to grin like an idiot and laugh, but I didn't. My eyes met the floor.

 

“...That last one...” I whispered. He stopped his drinking for a moment to rove his eyes across my body. My foot shifted uncomfortably.

 

“...I see,” he said, taking a longer drink than usual. His shoulders shrugged lightly, blowing over his tea.

 

“...What's his name?” he asked softly. I blushed tenderly, shifting again.

 

“...I...Um...You won't really appro-”

 

“Spit it out, Uzumaki.”

 

“...Sasuke...” I whispered.

 

He sat up straight, looking me over once again with menace. I cringed as a shiver flew up my spine. His narrow eyes burned with an intense feeling of wondering hate.

 

“...The Uchiha?” he emphasized his name with a hissing growl. I shrugged up my shoulders in discomfort, nodding my flushed face.

 

“...And how long has it been on for?” I cleared my throat, his narrow eyes beginning to squint in anger.

 

“...I...Umm...A w-week or so, before Christmas break...” I answered timidly. He bore his teeth, something I had never seen him do. But after a moment of silence, he realized I had started twitching under his gaze.

 

“...You two didn't...?” he whispered out.

 

I bowed my head, shoulders shaking.

 

Silence greeted us with a happy face, while we sat there in it.

 

“...I didn't really know what I was doing, you know? I...I was just so happy someone realized I was there, someone who wanted to kiss me, touch me...And Sasuke...He's...I don't know anymore...” I stuttered out, having trouble finding words. Silence met us again, but with a shifting, I realized Gaara was on his knees in front of me. He held my chin in his pale hands, his face coming to meet mine. He kissed me like Sasuke had the first time, soft and gentle with a timid ness that didn't want to scare me off. I wasn't, but I didn't contribute. He pulled away lightly, blowing cold breath against my cheek. His aqua eyes opened slowly less abruptly to me, shining calmly.

 

“...I've wanted to kiss you, touch you...But I never really got the chance...I am still far away from this chance, and that kiss was only a small taste. I'll never get the chance, I know, because of Sasuke...But I'm okay with that, since you're happy. You brought me to my senses, I'll let you have yours...If you love Sasuke, you love Sasuke. That's good enough for even me to understand.”

 

I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in his collarbone. His fingers danced over my shoulders, warmth spreading.

 

“...Thank you so much...” I whispered. He smiled and let out a huff.

 

“...No problem...”

 

I pulled away only a little, to face him.

 

“...There's something...I want to ask of you...” I called out.

 

“...Well, what is it?” his eyes widened.

 

“...I was wondering if you'd let me stay-”

 

Unfortunately, the door bell sounded. I immediately came to assumptions that it was Sasuke, so my eyes widened. Gaara stood, sliding my hands out of his.

 

“...Hold on,” he told me, striding to the door. I thought about hiding behind the couch, but there was no reason. What was I hiding from anyway? Sasuke?

 

“I...UM...ME-MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

 

I looked up to see Gaara's wide eyes staring out at the thing offered to him. A large bouquet of flowers, many colors and varieties, was shoved in his face. Some of the flowers didn't even grow here, or even close to here. But they were beautiful.

 

Lee's eyes were closed tightly, almost like he was afraid of looking in Gaara's eyes. I smiled at him, the way his hands were shaking and his knees were buckling.

 

Gaara stood silently, looking at Lee like he was crazy...Though he really was, with the way he always wore green, were it hats or pants or even socks. Gaara smiled softly at Lee, taking the flowers into his arms slowly, cherishing them. Lee scratched the back of his head nervously, his face blushing madly.

 

“...Would you like to come in, Lee?” he said quietly, soothing and breathy, a way Gaara only talked when with one of importance to him. Lee blinked as he saw me.

 

“N-Naruto-kun!” he announced. But I smiled as I stood, leaving the half drunken cocoa on the table by the sofa and the blanket beside it. I walked past them, and Gaara followed my movements with his eyes.

 

“What was it you wanted to ask me, Naruto?” he called to my retreating back. I waved over my shoulder with a smile.

 

“Nothing, it isn't important! Merry Christmas, and take it easy Lee! Gaara's an easy catch!”

 

Lee stuttered loudly, arms flailing in protest and face crimson with embarrassment. I turned only to see Lee try to explain himself, and Gaara laughing loudly, flowers hugged tightly.

 

M.e.r.r.y C.h.r.i.s.t.m.a.s