Purple Cocaine Prison

Warning(s): None… -_- this is just a mini-vignette; fluff, I suppose.
Disclaimer: Not my characters…

Note(s): I felt like saying that I’m not going to end up pairing everyone off, even if it seems that way. I just have this habit of personalizing some of the characters based on some of my real life friends; thus making everyone seem close to everyone else.


Please continue to read, review and enjoy!

~!@!~

‘Purple Cocaine Prison’
Poker Pieces Part One

~!@!~

{Temari}

“Gaara?”

He’s sitting on the windowsill in the study.

He likes sitting there because no one else in this apartment has the nerve to even approach papa’s office, especially when he’s not in it.

Gaara doesn’t seem to have heard me, but I know better, “Have you eaten yet? And anyway, haven’t you been starring out there long enough?”

I know that he’s only there because he wants to avoid having to talk to any of us, but he doesn’t normally go to great pains like this.

He inclines his head, but I can’t tell if it’s a yes or no gesture.

Getting exasperated, I take a sure step into the room and stop, “You have an appointment today, would you just come along?”

Gaara turns to look at me then. Indoors, he seems to wear even more clothing then outdoors so it’s not entirely unusual to see him wrapped in a kimono print sweater and dark jeans.

After considering me for a moment and narrowing his eyes, he answers monotonously, but irately none the less, “What appointment?”

It occurs to me that papa hadn’t told him about it or had otherwise made it without consulting Gaara, which is bad both ways since Gaara doesn’t like having to go at all in the first place.

I tap my foot while I try to figure out a way to voice this to someone that I know, from personal experience, will get possibly angrier and even less inclined to be cooperative. However, Gaara saves me the effort by walking out on me.

I stare after his retreating figure and I go out after him, shutting the study door as I go.

Gaara opens the door to his room and slips inside, shutting it firmly behind himself.

I stand in front of it, again indecisive.

Another unwritten law in this place is that no one enters Gaara’s room. Not even the maid is exempt.

Telling myself that I have absolutely no reason of being afraid of my little brother, I rap on the door, “We have to go, you realize. We’re to be there before noon”

No answer is forthcoming so I stand a bit longer and try to listen for movement.

Nothing…

Kankuro’s door opens behind me and I turn to say good morning but stop mid greet when I remember that he’s not even remotely human until he’s eaten.

True to his nature, he shuffles silently into the kitchen and flips on the TV.

So, here I am, standing in the hall listening to morning cartoons and still unanswered on the matter of Gaara’s appointment.

I rub my temple to ease the headache I feel coming on. I love Gaara and there’s no one quite like him anywhere, but I wish he wouldn’t be extra broody about these things. It’s not his fault, or mine, that he has another appointment so soon and in the same week, but it can’t be helped.

Papa told me this morning that he expected to hear if Gaara was getting better or not when he returned later.

Abruptly, Gaara’s door opens again and he steps out and shuts his door in a single, fluid motion.

I take a step back to accommodate his sudden presence in the hallway.

He’s changed clothes: the kimono print sweater for a deep red, ripped tee, the dark jeans for black and white plaid capris. Wrapped around his neck, a purple, spider-web print scarf. He’s also wearing the magenta Nightmare Before Christmas belt I got him last Christmas.

He looks at me a moment before turning for the kitchen, “Shouldn’t you get ready?”

I stare after him and return to my room to do as he says. It didn’t occur to me until he mentioned it that I hadn’t even bothered to do my hair first in the event that he refused to go at all.

A quick shower, and I dress and head into the kitchen myself.

Gaara is standing by the counter and placing things cautiously inside the union jack Cookie Monster lunch box he’s had since he was younger. Before I can remind him that he can’t eat anything before the tests, he looks me over briefly before resuming, “For afterwards”

Kankuro is sitting at the bar-side of the kitchen and is watching Gaara instead of the TV.

He returns my greeting with a sardonic grin; he’s been sparred the task of getting Gaara to appointments because they fight too much.

I deliberate only a minute about whether or not I should have breakfast myself and decide not.

Passing by Gaara, I notice that he’s wearing his allergy bracelet. He doesn’t ever wear it if necessary, and it is a sudden reminder that despite Gaara’s headstrong and capable nature, he’s still sick.

I peek at the contents of the lunch box: Sushi, his medication, soy sauce and a bottle of green tea.

Satisfied personally, I get my keys from the basket next to the TV and motion to Gaara that we are leaving.

The walk down the hall and the elevator ride down is all silence.

Once in the car, I put the top down, as it’s sunny this early, and buckle in.

Gaara squints comically in the sun and I resist the urge to laugh. Instead, I reach into my glove compartment and hand him his sunglasses.

They are thick and square lenses, glittery jade green in color, the shades themselves a deep mauve.

Gaara, who always looks somewhat enigmatic, looks even more dramatic when they’re on.

It’s here, in the car, that I observe some true changes to Gaara’s behavior.

Gaara doesn’t fidget; on the plane ride here from Japan, he didn’t go for the bathroom even once and spent the entire time looking out the window. It’s somewhat baffling to watch, half of my attention on him and half on the road, as he jangles my spare set of house keys on a knee, taps his foot and fingers a lock of his hair thoughtfully.

I can’t put a finger on what exactly is different but it occurs to me that somehow, Gaara is less uptight…more relaxed than I’m normally used to seeing him, especially considering where we are going.

I watch, transfixed, as Gaara reaches over and pinches me.

He doesn’t do that either: touching people casually.

Gaara pinches me a second time but I only stare at him.

He heaves an exasperated sigh and looks at me over the rim of his sunglasses, “The light’s green”

Luckily, it’s early enough that people are still pleasant about it.

Squaring my shoulders, I decide to ignore Gaara altogether and concentrate on my driving.

The only think I’m sure about is that whatever’s loosening Gaara up must be a good thing.

~!@!~

{Itachi}

“What the fuck are you starring at?!”

I hold my peace and shrug. It is rare that Sasuke rises in the morning to be so cranky. It also puzzles me as to who could be responsible; I am the only person who can incur such anger in my little brother.

Speculatively, I drink my black coffee.

Sasuke sits more or less across from me, obscuring a view of the TV that I don’t really need to see, and makes a show of drinking black coffee also.

I stare down into the depth of my cup and continue to think.

Anyone would deduct that Sasuke either fought with someone and won or fought with someone and lost. Since the first option is the often-exclusive outcome of our fights; he thinks he’s won, but he really hasn’t; it leaves only the second as possible.

I draw my eyes out of the darkness of my cup and watch Sasuke demolish four pieces of toast successively. My own two pieces are cold already as I take my time about eating them.

I place my cup noiselessly down, “What did you do?”

The question seems to catch Sasuke unawares. The fact that he splutters in his coffee is proof that I’ve hit the nail on the head.

Satisfied with having found my line of questioning, I continue, “Are you going to apologize?”

Sasuke scowls at me, “I wasn’t the one being an idiot”

I incline my head, acknowledging, “But you were the one being aggressive”

Sasuke doesn’t contradict what I say but he does defend himself, “It’s because he’s being thick”

Obviously, I know what to ask next, “He?”

Sasuke gives another black look but clams up nonetheless.

Amused at his effort to conceal these things from me, I take a bite from my toast, “Naruto isn’t the type to be forced into anything, I imagine”

Sasuke gives me a sharp look that means I’ve entered forbidden territory, but I plow on, “The doorman said you’d had friends over”

Sasuke doesn’t reply. I continue to explain, “And you know there is a security system specific to our suite because of the risk of theft”

Understanding dawns on Sasuke but he attempts to remain cool, “How did you figure it was Naruto?”

I smirk and watch Sasuke’s face pinch a bit worriedly, “Of the four with you, it was obvious. That red-head didn’t look like the type you could bully and the smart ass didn’t seem interested”

Sasuke gives me a blank look, “Ha, funny”

Amused, I take a sip of my coffee.

Sasuke seems unable to tolerate me any longer and dumps the rest of his coffee down the drain.

He then proceeds to tell me that he is going out and that I needn’t wait for him.

Teasingly, I reach over and deliberately pinch his arm, twisting slightly, “As if I would”

Sasuke makes no attempt at pulling away and glares at me for the bruise the pinch leaves. He makes as though to ignore me but then stops, mid- insult, considering, “Where’s Kisame?”

The question honestly surprises me; why on earth would I know where Kisame is? After an honest pause of thought, it strikes me that I do know where he is…or rather, where he intends to be.

“He’s driving down to New York for the day…”

Sasuke perks up, “Can I go with him?”

The fact that Sasuke is asking permission at all throws me. Outwardly, I only smirk, “Your asking?”

Sasuke ignores this and waits for what he wants to hear.

Shrugging, I nod.

He almost smiles at me but turns away instead, heading into his room to grab whatever he’ll need.

I stand and clear way the rest of our traces of breakfast and glance at the time.

I suppose he intends to miss school.

I slowly pour the remaining contents of my cup down the drain and look up briefly when Sasuke streaks passed, shouting something to me on his way out.

A moment later, the front door slams shut.

Standing alone in the kitchen, I stop to consider that what Sasuke called back sounded suspiciously like ‘Bye Aniki’.

I glance at the final traces of coffee disappearing down the drain. The coffee, I think, is a lot like Sasuke. It seems black, but it’s actually brown, isn’t it?

~!@!~

{Hinata}

“Neji-San?”

Worried, I knock again.

He startles me badly when he opens the door and looks at me frankly.

I stare down at my feet to avoid looking directly at him, “We’ll b-be late, if we d-don’t leave soon…”

Neji hums an affirmative, “Please wait for me in the foyer, Hinata-Sama”

The door shuts softly and I let out a breath I was holding; turning, I make my way back across to the main house, through the outdoor garden.

I’ve sorta been on my tiptoes around my cousin lately. He seems cooler and more reserved then usual, and I wonder if it’s because of me.

When I think about it, his freedom has been cut down by having to watch me. Anytime I need to go out, he’s to drive me. He’s also had to start training with me, which exasperates most of the Sensei that I’ve already had, as he teaches better then they do and complains the least about my clumsiness. In fact, he rarely speaks to anyone in the main house anymore.

He also goes home to the branch house and has started sleeping out more as well. It’s like he wants nothing to do with the main house but respects my father because he has to and not because he actually venerates him, like he used to.

Neji-san is like someone who’s lost something and doesn’t seem to know how to go about getting it back.

In the foyer, I sit in one of the large leather chairs, my backpack at my feet. Is Neji not feeling well? Did he fight with someone? I’ve also noticed that Naruto seems to avoid not only Neji but me also.

Neji taps me lightly on the shoulder, “We’re leaving”

I jump and stare up at him. He gives me an inquiring look before smoothing his face into expressionless marble.

Standing, I follow behind him as we got out to the garage.

In the car, Neji is still very quiet. I know that we rarely talk normally, but even I feel a little uncomfortable. Unable to start a conversation, I keep thinking quietly to myself.

~!@!~

{Naruto}

I could’ve slept all damn day, but noooo. Tsunade-Hag shows up first thing this morning and wrestles me outta bed like my life depends on it. I’m about as coherent as a cotton ball and I have a headache that’s threatening to kill me before I can kill the hag.

“Hurry up you brat!”

Tugging back ferociously at my comforter, I wrestle it another inch over my head, trying my hardest to ignore her.

Abruptly, she lets go, “Okay, we have no time for this!”

My center of gravity suddenly shifts and Tsunade grabs comforter, walrus hat, and me and hauls everything, minus my sanity, outta bed.

Either I get up on my own two feet or she’s gonna kill me, dragging me out my bedroom door like she is.

I wriggle out of her grip and she’s left holding all my bed stuff.

We glare at each other, me from the floor where I’m huffing at her and her from the doorway where she’s huffing right back.

I groan and flop down on my bare back, “What the hell is this about?!”

Tsunade-Hag grumbles and throws my stuff, all jumbled like it is, back onto my bed, “I said: We don’t have time for this. Grab a shirt, we need to be outta here yesterday”

I drag my eyes open and grab the first shirt that falls under my fingers. It startles me pretty badly when said shirt is ripped from my fingers and a sweater is shoved over my head, “You’ll be warmer in this”

I force the sweater the rest of the way on and stand.

Yawning and rubbing the sleep from my eyes, witty retort about her menopause at the ready, the jib dies in my mouth when I really see the look on her face.

Her whole face is frowning in worry: her mouth turned down a little at the corners, her perfect eyebrows drawn almost completely together and her nose all scrunched up because of the way she’d pinch her mouth shut.

“Wha-?”

Her head jerks up and she seems to snap out of it slightly, “Let’s go”

Asking no more questions, I leave with her, shutting and locking my apartment behind myself.

~!@!~

In the underground garage, Tsunade buckles me tightly into her Volvo and peels out onto the street.

She’s still stonily serious and I can’t find it in myself to ask the questions that have been stewing away in my head since we left the apartment.

I realize though, after a bit, that she’s driving me to school.

When we get there, she tells me to wait for her and hurries towards the center entrance a.k.a. the office.

With nothing better to do, I watch the school busses drop off students.

As I’m losing interest, cars start pulling in, teachers and students alike coming in minutes before the bell.

A silver Audi catches my immediate attention.

Panicked, I unbuckle myself and duck down in my seat, trying to avoid being seen.

The Audi parks only two spaces down from me.

Watching covertly, I spot Hinata first, emerging from the backseat and turning to thank the driver before hurrying off toward the school.

Neji takes his time about stepping out. When he does, I accidentally sit up a little to get a better look at him. He seems to look right at me, but turns away.

Thank God my hood was on.

Stepping away from his car, a messenger bag slung over a shoulder, Neji makes his way towards the school.

He’s wearing the black jeans that make his legs look endless and his army print cargo jacket, which makes him glow almost because the green-black-brown melee of the print contrasts with his white skin. His hair is loose, bangs sweeping every which way into his face.

I note, thoroughly amused, that there is a butterfly clip holding some shorter bangs out of face and behind his left ear.

The next thing I notice is Tsunade making her way back towards the car.

My heart seizes up when I realize that Neji will see her and she’ll see Neji, but then I figure it wouldn’t matter anyway since she probably wouldn’t remember him, having only met him the once.

And anyway, why would she talk to him?

Laughing a little at my own stupidity, I watch her walk hurriedly back towards the car in her high black heels and billowing green overthrow coat.

I unintentionally hold my breath when she walks past Neji and I start to laugh at myself again before I see her pause mid-step then come to an actual stop.

I stare as she turns on her heel and catches up to Neji.

He stops and turns to her as she walks briskly up to him and his face, or what I can see of it over her shoulder, remains mostly passive as she talks and gestures a little at him.

Based on what his face is showing, I can’t even begin to imagine what she must be telling him.

My heart starts climbing up my throat when Tsunade turns back to the car with Neji in tow.

She heads right over to the passenger side door and Neji goes back to his car, opening the back door and tossing his messenger back in.

Tsunade crouches down to my level, “Naru, I need you to stay with your friend for the morning, okay? I’ll call and let you know when you can come back, alright?”

All while she’s saying this, she tugs me to my feet and walks me to Neji’s car.

Her voice is carefully cheerful, like she’s not handing me off to my executioner, and her hand squeezes mine reassuringly.

Neji is waiting; leaning in the space between his car and the open drive-side door.

I’m careful not to look at him and climb into the passenger seat like Tsunade makes me, and I tune out whatever she says to him.

Then, suddenly, Neji is sitting in the car also, and we’re moving.

I peek at the rearview mirror and catch Tsunade starring after us.

~!@!~

I must have still been tired because the next thing I know, Neji is patting my shoulder to wake me up.

I start but still avoid looking at him.

We climb out of the car and I realize we’re inside a garage…an awfully big garage. There are six or seven other expensive foreign cars lined up along where Neji parked.

Neji’s voices sounds far way from where it comes behind me, “C’mon”

Turning, I watch his retreating back. I catch up, falling into step behind him and watch the massive garage door close itself. Near the far end, Neji opens a door leading directly into the house.

The one time I’d been here, I hadn’t been inside like I am now. For one thing, it’s bigger then I first thought. For another, the hallway is huge. Like, can’t-touch-the-ceiling-without-a-ladder-or-reach-the-far-wall-without-using-a-meter-stick-huge.

Neji takes off down the right and I follow.

There is nothing I recognize until we take a flight of stairs down that leads us out to the outdoor garden. We walk along the wooden planking and come from the far side.

We pass by the place where Neji brought me when I came here my first time but the sliding doors are shut.

Making the whole way across the garden, we head up another set of stairs and are indoors again.

This half is completely differently decorated then the first half. There is normal furniture and tatami mat flooring.

Neji goes up another flight of stairs and walks down a broad hallway. He stops at a sliding door and opens it, pulling off his jacket and walking in.

Slightly indecisive, I follow him.

The room is big, like everything else about this place but someone manages to be homey.

There are two, low, squashy leather chairs with a TV set up in the far left corner. Inside, unlike out in the hall, the tatami is somehow softer and has designs painted over it making it look strangely like carpeting. To the right Neji disappears into another room through another set of sliding doors.

I can hear him moving around but I don’t dare go peek so I curl up in one of the leather chairs instead. I pillow my head on my free hand and lean a little haphazardly on the armrest.

I am very nearly asleep again when Neji’s voice rings out to my right, “You’re adopted?”

His voice is surprisingly clear and it feels like I haven’t heard it for a long time. I admit to myself a bit sheepishly that it’s has been forever since I heard it…outside of my dreams, I mean.

For a second, I stay quiet, considering feigning sleep just to get him to ask again.

When it’s clear that he will probably ask again any second, and be aggravated about it, I sit up a little and sigh, “Nope”

Neji considers this, “But you don’t have parents, right?”

I shake my head, “I was an orphan”

Neji shifts, “Are you a runaway?”

I slowly open my eyes and look at the far wall across from where I’m sitting, “Basically”

I interrupt his next question before he even voices it because it’s the question everyone always asks, “And I’d rather not talk about it”

“Hmmm”

I scowl faintly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Neji doesn’t answer and I make the mistake of turning to look at him.

He’s not looking at me, which is a relief, but his face is the marble-mask.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I pull my hood down, “What?”

Neji laces his fingers together over his stomach, “Technically, you’re underage and living alone”

I blink, a little lost. He’s using his matter-a-fact grown-up voice, “Yeah. So?”

Neji shuts his eyes and tips his head back slowly, as if giving something careful consideration, “That’s why your landlady is in trouble. Your school records and her lease statements identify you as having no parents. Which basically means they’ll be wanting to give you a social worker”

I sit, dead pale for a second, and let it all sink in. I have always known that a 17 year old with no parents, living alone, isn’t legal, but it’s never been an issue. I pay for all stuff I need and have never given anyone any reason to look into my business.

I stare at him a long time, “No one ever noticed before”

Neji shrugs, “Maybe they have been and she’s been covering for you”

I think about all the times Tsunade-Hag signed papers on my behalf or companied me for doctor’s appointments.

“They won’t do anything to her, right?”

Neji doesn’t answer me.

“This is so weird. Why now?”

Neji seems not to have heard me, but I plow on anyway, “Would you sit up and look at me?”

Neji’s lips barely move, “You were afraid to look at me in the car, maybe I’m afraid to look at you now”

“Bullshit”

I’m glaring at him and he, finally, seems to feel it.

As if waking up from a long nap, Neji’s eyes slide open, silver-blue like I remember, and he sits up, hair trailing behind him, and looks right at me, “Happy now?”

His voice is smooth and cold, not a hint of sarcasm, but not a hint of anything nice either.

I make a show of starring right back, straightening in my seat to stop myself from fidgeting later, “Yes, thank you”

After a pause, I shift my eyes to the hair fanned out over his shoulder, “I didn’t get a chance to read the note you wrote me”

Neji shrugs, “It was only a poem”

I glance up at his face, “Did you write it?”

Wordlessly, Neji stands and goes to the other room and returns with a notepad. He takes a pen lying on top of the TV and begins to write slowly, in a single, measured speed:

‘Pencil and paper are the artist’s salvation,
The pencil like the sword
The paper like the fabric of life
The free word:
Truth that releases
Balm that heals
Weapon that wounds
Using raw inspiration as fuel
That one may paint with words
Pierce, with the sword-pencil
The fabric-paper of life
And in doing,
Open a window to the soul’

“It’s beautiful”, I tell him, but he only shrugs, “What made you write it?”

“You like to draw”, he says quietly, like that explains everything.

We stare at his curvy writing together.

Something occurs to me, and I don’t know whether or not it’s a good idea, but it’s there, in the forefront of my mind and I decide to act on it.

The worst he can do is deck me, right?

I reach over and grab a fistful of his silver tank top and haul him over.

As soon as he’s close enough, I plant one on him.

While I’m doing this, I try super hard not to think of all the really good reasons doing this is bad: I haven’t brushed yet, he’s still mad at me, I haven’t the faintest clue what I’m doing.

But really, it feels like what I should do.

This poem, for all its words, seems like an apology to me. Or, maybe, acceptance. In any case, he wouldn’t have written it if it didn’t mean anything, right?

Right!

Because, I really, really miss him, and hopefully he’s going to kiss me back and make what I’m doing okay.

So, it’s a bit scary when he doesn’t.

Kiss me back, that is.

But I lean away and look at him and he’s looking at me, so at least I have his attention, “It’s honestly beautiful”

I tell him again to make it clear I meant it, and he just keeps looking at me.

Really looking at me, I mean, like I might have the answers to the mysteries of the universe written right there on my skin.

And he smiles a tiny, Neji-smile.

And the corner of his eyes crinkle, even.

And his eyes are warm water instead of ice.

So, it’s no big surprise when he has to reach over and rub away the baby tears at the corner of my eyes.

Grinning, despite everything, I mould one of my spare hands in his.

Now, if only I could think my way out of this underage-kid-living-alone mess things would be just about perfect.

Neji probably has things to tell me and I have things to tell him, but I’m thinking it can wait.


T.B.C

~!@!~

Ja!