Muse

AN: This is a Gaa/Hina, Sasu/Neji story and it goes back and forth between the two couples. I’m beginning to develop a rather unhealthy obsession over Sasu/Neji XD

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1

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Journal Entry #1

I’m not entirely sure why I’m being given a hard time about writing in a journal at twenty years of age. It was fine not having one for the past nineteen years…
In any case, I am supposed to write down things about myself and how I’m feeling. Apparently they wish to open up some sort of page on my website where you can learn personal things about me. I don’t like it, I prefer my private life to be…well private. I’ll have to talk to my agent about that.

I’m getting off track. Alright then, my name is Sabaku Gaara and I am, as of this writing, twenty years old. I do not go out much, I mostly paint or I compose music, both being things that I have actually made a career out of. I don’t enjoy crowds, I don’t care much for physical affection, I suppose my favorite color is green…no, it’s red, I wouldn’t have the ridiculous amount of burgundy colored clothes if I didn’t like the color itself.

About myself. I am considered a ‘genius’, although it’s not in the academic sense. Many people, when asked to think back to the first thing they could remember from their childhood many people say it begins around four to five years of age. My first memory is of a rather elaborate landscape in my head that for some reason I really wanted to put it down on paper. I remember how my father had almost been enraged by the fact that I had drawn on the walls until he actually looked at it and realized that his two year old son could draw at an almost professional level. I remember having to go to I don’t know how many doctors concerning my ‘talent’. I don’t remember the exact number of tests I had to take to prove that I was some sort of genius, I just remember how much I hated it. To this day I don’t particularly care for psychiatrists or hospitals. After the first picture I drew – which is still on the wall, by the way, although it is fully painted – my parents brought me as many art supplies as I could handle. I did not mind sketching but I found myself leaning more towards paints. Acrylics, while expensive, are amazing to work with.

It is very hard to explain how my mind worked when I first began to see these overly vivid images. The images were simply there, there wasn’t anything to ‘learn’ or what have you. At three I became absolutely fascinated with animals, especially felines and canines. I remember having a lot of people come through our house and all of them wanted to speak with me. I didn’t like it, I had been a very shy child and all of those adults had been intimidating to me. I don’t remember many of the exhibitions that I attended, I just remembered how much I hated camera flashes and a seemingly infinite amount of people treating me as if I were ignorant despite my talents. I suppose it truly is difficult to take a three year old seriously.

At five years I was sent to an academy specifically for ‘gifted’ individuals. A large majority of them were mathematical geniuses or they were academic students that were learning at a college level. I hated that school, or rather, I hated being around many of the children there. A lot of them were conceited and I have to admit that I had almost fallen for it as well. When everyone is constantly calling you a genius and telling you how absolutely amazing you are it is very difficult not to get an inflated ego at times. In addition, because I was actually selling my art and making a rather large profit many of these students only tried to be my friend because I was rich. It took a few times of hearing my ‘friends’ talking behind my back for me to get what was going on.

Now then, I am an artist, but that is not all I am noted for concerning being a ‘genius’. At five I became extremely enamored with the piano that they held in the music room. I had seen pictures but never one up close. I had always had music in my head, it was just up until that point I had been more interested in art. So the music teacher saw my interest and had asked me if I would like to learn how to play. She went over all of the notes and how they worked, she played a few songs for me so I could understand how all of the notes could form together to create something wonderful.

I was playing Mozart by the end of the next day.

It all just seemed to ‘click’. One explanation had been enough for me, it had all seemed so incredibly simple, it still does. Music had been as easy for me to understand as a child learning how to count to five without slipping up. It is very difficult to explain it any other way.

The piano was not where my talent stopped. The next day I had asked about the clarinet. By the end of the day I had mastered how to play it. Then I kept going, string instruments, wind instruments, anything and everything you could think of I can play it and rather skillfully at that. If I cannot play it, you need only show me once.

I love music. I love creating music. I hear songs in my head constantly, just like I see all these vivid images for painting. It is just the way I am, this is ‘normal’ for me.

Around the time I turned thirteen my parents decided that since I had now hit puberty and I was becoming more and more interested in females that they would find me a ‘wife’. They had expectations, they wanted the girl to be ‘gifted’ like me, it did not matter in what way. I have absolutely no idea the amount of females I had been forced to go on ‘dates’ with but the number is probably astronomical. The question now is, did I ever find someone? The answer is yes, I found someone but she was not a genius or anything of the sort. She was also not someone my parents had picked. I met – or rather saw – her at a formal dinner. She had attended with a friend from the Haruno family – they own Sakura Cosmetics and ironically enough they had graced their pink-haired daughter with the same name – and it was only later that I learned that she was an ex-heiress. Her father’s company had went under during a heavy economic depression, the media had been all over it because that company had been extremely powerful as well as long standing. Many people had been shocked.

In any case, back to the girl. I learned later that her name was Hyuuga Hinata . When I had first laid eyes on her I couldn’t stop staring. Her hair had been cut short but in a rather cute fashion. She was wearing a beautiful white dress that made me think of an angel or perhaps even a goddess. In the end, it was her eyes that captivated me. Beautiful white eyes with just a tint of lavender, I had never seen anything like it and I had wanted so badly to go up and talk to her.

Unfortunately I was – and probably still am – extremely awkward when it came to emotional situations like that one. I never went and spoke to her, I couldn’t. Words refused to form and all I could do was stare. I think once she smiled at me and waved slightly and I’m pretty sure I fell in love with her right then and there. Of course, because I was an absolute idiot I let her leave without even going so far as to introduce myself. I have not seen her since and I heard her family had actually moved out of the area.

I have so many paintings and drawings of her it’s not even remotely funny, I do hope that doesn’t make me some sort of obsessed stalker or something. For a long while she became my muse, many of my paintings from the ages of thirteen to fifteen had involved women who looked rather similar to her but were otherwise different. I believe there are about twenty songs I composed where I had been specifically thinking of her as I wrote them. I was so enamored by her and I didn’t even know what her voice sounded like or who she was as a person. Are such things like this possible? Is that what they call ‘love at first sight’?

In any case, I have dated many women, mostly through my parents’ influence, and I am currently single. Apparently, I am also considered ‘attractive’; very rarely did a woman say ‘no’ to me concerning anything because of my looks. I think until I turned seventeen or eighteen I had allowed my ego to flare up considerably because of that, believing that I could have any girl I wanted and well…I was a boy.
Genius or no we still have hormones and I am indeed attracted to women. If that gets put on the website I will be extremely upset, by the way.

I believe that is pretty much all I should have to say concerning this first entry. No one needs to know how many exhibitions and concerts I was involved in and I don’t really care to try and remember them all. Really, this entry is all anyone needs to know about me, so hopefully this will appease my agent enough so that I never have to do this again.

xxxxx

Putting his hands through his hair he looked down at the table, frustrated and exasperated. The various tattoos decorating his arms could be seen from his rolled up sleeves and he ruffled his already messy-looking hair as he listened to a conversation he had known was coming.

“You really don’t have anything?” his agent asked him, her expression concerned and not a little unhappy. They were sitting in a small diner which was usually where they held their meetings. “Gaara, you have two months until your exhibition…”

“I know.” The redhead grumbled out, his gaze still on the table “I know that.” His hands clenched in his hair “I just…there is nothing. For the first time in my life my mind is completely blank. I can’t hear any music, I can’t see any images, I have nothing.”

He heard her sigh and lean back in her booth, thoughtful. Six months ago the artistic genius’ mind had ‘shut off’ – that was the only way he could explain it. There was silence in his mind and it was horribly disconcerting and frustrating. It was also rather depressing and his studio had taken the brunt of his emotional outbursts. ‘War zone’ was probably not a good enough expression for what it currently looked like.

The brunette sighed. “Okay then, do you have anything that you haven’t released? Maybe we can work with that.”

“I have…five paintings.” He admitted and he grimaced at the low groan she emitted “Anko, I know.” He repeated “I assure you this is equally frustrating for me. I have held images and heard music in my head since I was a toddler, it’s extremely uncomfortable to have nothing.”

Removing her glasses – they were just for show anyway – Anko sighed once again. “Okay, you’ve hit an artist’s block. Everyone goes through that from time to time. Maybe you just need a new muse. What about your girlfriend? Maybe being around her a little more could inspire you.”

Green eyes rose up to glance as his agent. He still had his hands in his hair “What girlfriend?” he was genuinely confused.

“Um, Matsuri?” she asked him as if it should be obvious “She’s been claiming that the two of you are dating, she confirmed it with the press when they asked her about it.”

“She…she what?” now he was sitting straight up, looking at her in disbelief “We are not…” he put a hand through his hair in frustration. First artist’s block and now this. Matsuri was a friend and she was pretty but they were not dating. She had confessed to him a while back and so he had told her that he would go on a few dates with her and see what happened. Nothing happened, at least not for him anyway. Apparently she had come out of it with a completely different opinion. “We went on three dates,” he explained “and nothing happened. I don’t know why she’s allowing the press to believe that we’re a couple…” he slowly slid his head down his arms until his forehead rested on the table. Really, this day could not get any worse. “Now I’m going to look like the bad guy to the press when they…” he made a rather irritated noise. He was in a horrible mood right now. “I’ll talk to her about it later…” he looked back up at Anko “But she is not my girlfriend.”

“Okay, okay!” Anko sounded a little amused. He did not share her sentiments “Look, maybe you just need to go out more. You don’t go out much, maybe looking at nature or something will help.”

“I have tried that,” he tells her although his voice sounds muffled “I’ve gone camping, I’ve done nature trails, I’ve gone to parks, the beach, the –“

“Okay, I get it.” A small huff “What about your music? You must have a few songs you haven’t released right?”

“They’re all horrible.” He told her “I’d never forgive myself if I played them for an audience. I have a few months until the concert and no, I have absolutely no new material.” He placed his forehead back down on the table. I can’t stand it, six months of emptiness. I know I need to find a muse or something but I just haven’t been able to.”

Taking a sip of her coffee she frowned thoughtfully “We’re going to have to figure something out Gaara, we can’t just cancel. Look maybe…”

He looked up at her when she paused but she wasn’t looking at him, she was looking at something, or rather, someone else. Confused, he turned so that he could see who the newcomer was. The moment he laid eyes on her his brain completely shut down and he could do nothing but stare.

It had been eight years but he would never forget those beautiful eyes. She was taller, her hair was longer; she still had pale skin. Gaara had thought he would never see the girl again and now that she was there, standing there beside him he found himself locking up just like he had at thirteen. Words refused to form and he was screaming at his mind to do something, anything, but his throat betrayed him.

When she glanced at Gaara she frowned thoughtfully but then smiled. It was a gentle smile and her eyes were warm as they regarded him. He could feel his heart pounding at this chance encounter.
Do something idiot!

“Um,” she began and he briefly closed his eyes. He had never heard her voice before but it was soft and beautiful, just like her. He had no idea how it was even possible that he still held the same feelings for her now that he had at thirteen. Had it truly been love at first sight? “I…you look very familiar to me.” She says to him and he can see in her eyes that she wants him to confirm her suspicions.

Unfortunately, his mouth refused to work. He continued to merely stare at her, to a point where she began to look slightly uncomfortable. He felt Anko’s hand on his arm.

“Gaara?” she sounded concerned.

Abruptly he stood up. “Excuse me.” He muttered and walked straight out of the café.

xxxxx
Hinata was not a woman who hated people. Heck, she didn’t even dislike people. She had always been able to see the good in someone, regardless of how mean or gruff they were. She was a fairly positive person who enjoyed the simplicities of life. She loved animals, was good with plants, she had a decent singing voice and she enjoyed writing.

That was until she began to work for the Oto publishing company. Hinata was a novelist although not a highly paid one. She has written a few short books that have been, so far, paying the bills and keeping her family afloat. Now she’s getting to a point where she needs to get a few more books out otherwise her life would become very difficult.
Unfortunately, Yakushi Kabuto, her editor, was an absolute jerk in the – usually – nicest ways possible.

“None of these are any good.” He informed her politely, placing the manuscripts on the table “I’ve read over all of them, I’m fairly certain they won’t sell well. For one, you’re writing in a genre that isn’t very popular right now and two, the quality could be slightly better.”

She normally didn’t hate or dislike people but she definitely did not like her editor at all. In fact, she really hated working for the company altogether but it wasn’t exactly easy to get picked up by publishers. She had to take what she could get.

“Kabuto-san,” she sighed softly “I’ve been writing the same as I always have…they’re not bad even if the genre isn’t popular right now. I would try to write what’s popular but I’m not very comfortable with it.”

“Well, there will always be discomforts in a job, that much is a given.” He adjusted his glasses “I understand your financial situation but I need something more than this. The fact that you’re not comfortable writing it should be inconsequential to you.”

She felt as if he had a point yet at the same time she didn’t believe that she had to go out of her comfort zone to be a good writer. Many novelists were known to only write in a specific genre, why couldn’t she?”

A small sigh “How soon can I expect some new material? Your deadline is coming up quickly.” She looked at him in shock. He really was going to reject them? She had worked so hard and she had really felt that they had been really good stories. Why was it always like this with them? They rejected so many of her manuscripts and then the ones they did publish were hardly what she would have considered ‘good’.

“I will…I’ll try to have something in the next few weeks,” she said sadly, unsure of what to do. She had to have a muse to write and she held no muse for what Kabuto seemed to want from her. Her family was beginning to need more and more support from her and she was struggling to make ends meet herself.

“I’ll be expecting a phone call soon then.” He said cheerfully and she felt a little disgruntled. He was so mean sometimes. “In any case, I must be going.” Adjusting his glasses once more he slid out of the booth and walked out without a backwards glance.

With a small sigh she collected her three manuscripts and placed them in her bag. It was a good thing she hadn’t ordered anything, she wasn’t really in the mood to eat. Sliding out of the booth she adjusted the strap on her shoulder and was about to head out when she saw what she thought to be familiar red hair. There had been a boy she had seen a long time ago with that exact same color and she had thought about him for a long time after that dinner and even when her family had moved away for a while.

The entire night he had stared at her and she had been a little nervous but pleased. The boy hadn’t looked mean or angry, if anything he had looked shocked and a bit shy. Shy was something she understood well. Hinata had wanted to talk to him that night but Sakura had dragged her all over the place and then they had abruptly left. For some reason she had really liked that boy even though she never went up to speak to him. His face had been pale like hers, with bright red hair and beautiful green eyes. She had never seen eyes so full of color and emotion. At thirteen she had thought he was cute and well, cute could equal possible boyfriend, that was just how it rolled.

Curious she approached the table. He had his head on the table with his elbows resting on either side, tattooed forearms up in the air. A dark haired woman who had been sitting with him had given her a curious glance, a girlfriend perhaps? Then he finally raised his head and their gazes met.

Recognition immediately registered in those green depths of his yet just like that night all he did was stare at her. He looked at her as if she were some sort of ghost which was a little disarming. Maybe he hadn’t liked her like she had thought? He continued to stare until she became slightly uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

“Um,” she began “I…you look very familiar to me.” It wasn’t the smoothest way to begin a conversation but she couldn’t just walk over to the table and say absolutely nothing. She didn’t know his name but she knew it was the same boy, those green eyes were unmistakable. He looked a little different, his body was lean and he had tattoos practically covering his arms and a red kanji tattoo on the side of his forehead that said ‘Ai’, or ‘love’. He was still incredibly handsome and she had found herself fighting off a blush.

Then he abruptly stood, excused himself and walked straight out of the café, leaving both females bewildered.

Hinata knew he had recognized her and she knew he was the same boy from that night. Had she perhaps misunderstood what his staring had meant back then? People didn’t just stare at others for no real reason but…

“I’m sorry about Gaara,” the brunette spoke up and Hinata’s gaze shifted towards her. She held out her hand “I’m Mitarashi Anko, I’m Gaara’s agent.”

She was actually relieved when she realized this woman was not his girlfriend. It was strange because she really didn’t know him at all, never spoken a word to him, yet she wanted to see him again and for some reason she liked him. When his eyes had met hers she had felt her heart skip a beat and she had had to fight off a blush. Maybe the attraction was strictly physical, he was very good looking.

“I’m Hyuuga Hinata.” She said, giving the woman a small hand shake “Um, did I…did I upset him?”

Anko stared at her for a moment, as if Hinata had said something strange yet significant. Slowly, her eyes widened for just a bit before a peculiar gleam emerged. It was very obvious this woman knew something she did not. “No, you didn’t upset him at all, he’s just…eccentric. Hyuuga-san I’m curious, do you know anything about what Gaara does for a living?”

She shook her head “No, um…I only saw him once at a formal dinner and we never even spoke. I just remembered him because he had stared at me the entire night.” And I had really liked the way he had looked.

If anything, the grin widened “Gaara,” Anko put on a pair of rather trendy dark purple glasses, eyes on the Hyuuga “is an artist and a composer. He’s really good at it. The kid is also very shy,” she gave the girl a sly look “if you want, I could arrange for you to meet him, I promise he won’t walk away next time.”

“O-oh no I…I couldn’t impose on him l-like that…”

“Hyuuga-san, trust me, it won’t be an imposition. What do you say? You two could get together for a lunch and catch up, if you’re okay with that.”

Hinata’s feelings were mixed. For one, she honestly didn’t know the redhead on any personal level so talking to him would be awkward…especially since he seemed to have an aversion with speaking to her. On the other hand, she had really wanted to know him then and now that she’s seen him, she wouldn’t mind getting to know him now. He seemed nice and she couldn’t shake off the fact that she was indeed attracted to him. It was purely physical but there was something there, something she could sense about him.

“I…I wouldn’t mind it, um, as long as he doesn’t. I-I really don’t w-want to be a bother…”

“No, no, no bother at all.” Anko pulled out a PDA and began punching in information “How about…this Thursday? You can meet up for lunch. If you want, give me your cell number so I can call you with more details.” Another sly smile “I’ll give you his too, he won’t mind, I promise.”

She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks “N-no that’s okay I don’t…um I can give you my number and Thursday is fine.” A worried expression emerged as she gave Anko her number “Are you…are you sure he…?”

“Trust me Hyuuga-san,” the smile turned genuine “he’ll want to meet up with you and catch up. Anyway, I should get going, I’ll call you probably tomorrow alright?” without waiting for the other woman to respond she gave her a small wave and practically ran out of the building with a huge grin on her face and that bright gleam in her eyes.

A small sigh escaped her lips and she adjusted her bag once more. She wasn’t even sure why she was letting this get to her, he really was virtually a stranger. Was she making a good decision by doing this?

I guess we’ll just have to see.

xxxxx

I am an absolute idiot. The redhead mused as he continued to walk who knew where. Eight years, eight years and the moment I see her I act like a complete fool! This day could not possibly get any worse. The exhibition, Matsuri – she and I need to have a really long talk – the concert and now this. I’ll probably never see her again. I just completely threw away my second chance at getting to know her.

Needless to say, Gaara was a little upset as he walked down random streets. He honestly couldn’t understand why his throat closed up whenever he saw her. It was as if his entire body just stopped working and all he could do was stare which was more than likely creepy to her. He wasn’t thirteen anymore, he was twenty years old, he should have been able to do something.

Maybe he could go back to the diner a few more times and hope to see her. Unlikely since he frequented the place and that was the first time he had seen her there, but one could hope right?

I can’t believe I blew such a great chance.

She had remembered him; he had known it the moment their eyes had met. He had been absolutely amazed, they had never even introduced themselves, he had just stared at her the entire night like some sort of obsessed psycho. She had been happy to see him and he had walked away from her. Why was he so awkward around her? It wasn’t as if he’d never approached a woman before or talked to one so what was the problem? Where was he failing?

His pocket buzzed and he pulled out his phone. A text message from Matsuri asking if they could do something on Thursday. She had even put X’s and O’s at the bottom and he shoved the phone back into his pocket, annoyed. He liked Matsuri, she was a very nice girl and she was quite pretty. The redhead had never minded being around her, even though she tended to be somewhat clingy at times. He had met her a few years back at some event or another – her family was rich and apparently her father had been a fan of his works – and they had became quick friends. She wanted more and he knew that, but he just…didn’t feel that way about her.

He really had tried when he had offered to perhaps go on a few dates after she had confessed that she loved him – which had been extremely awkward and uncomfortable for him but had said nothing at the time. He had taken her to dinner twice and once they had lunch together. Each time had been nice, he had enjoyed being around her and she had looked beautiful in the outfits she had worn – she wasn’t an unattractive girl in the slightest – but there had been nothing. Gaara had held her hand once at her insistence and it had felt rather weird to him. On their last date she had asked if he would kiss her and that had just been…really, really uncomfortable. He didn’t quite understand why it was so awkward to attempt to do anything intimate with her, it just was.
It had been a month since that last date and while he did often speak to her on the phone he really wanted to know where in the hell she got the idea in her head that they were a couple. There were times when she could be a little…not dense but rather ignorant of things. It wasn’t even real ignorance, she would just ignore things she didn’t like at times…and then there were her random bouts of horribly misunderstanding a situation. He was pretty sure Matsuri knew they weren’t actually dating, she just wanted to pretend. Or something, hell if he knew.
Once again his phone buzzed and this time it was Anko. Flipping open the phone he stood near a curb on a sidewalk on some street he didn’t even know. “Yes?”

“Thursday.” Came the brunette’s voice, sounding quite happy “You have a lunch date with Hyuuga Hinata. You can send thanks and praises via e-mail or through dango. I’d prefer the dango.”

He almost dropped the phone. His face paled and his heart practically stopped “W-what?”

There was laughter on the other end “I said that you. Have a date. With Hyuuga Hinata. On Thursday. She really wants to meet up with you so try not to walk away from her this time.” There was a small pause “You know, I only recognized her because of those old paintings you had done of her when I had been nosing around in your studio. You really liked that girl, huh?”

“I…” he sighed “I don’t know.” He admitted “When I first saw her I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever laid eyes on. I couldn’t stop painting her for months.”

“Okay, so how do you feel now?”

The question brought him pause. How did he feel? The years had been wonderful to her, if anything she was infinitely more beautiful than when he had first seen her. Flawless pale skin, dark purple hair, beautiful white eyes…he envisioned a few gothic type of scenes, perhaps even Victorian…

His eyes widened at the realization. He had images. There were dozens of images emerging in his mind all at once just from seeing her for those few minutes. There was no music but there were images.

“I…I think I’ll have the paintings for the exhibition done in the next two months.” He said, his voice sounding dull from shock.

Gaara could practically hear her smiling “That’s outstanding. Can’t wait to see them!” and then she hung up.

Six months of nothing and then an explosion of scenes upon gazing at her for five minutes. He suddenly understood why Anko had set up the date; she had been hoping that Hinata would become his muse.

She had been absolutely correct.